He had always been told that he was more fearless than wise. From a young age, he had shown glimpses of it, approaching beasts such as direwolves and whatnot without a second thought. His mother would reprimand him for it, while his father would find it funny. His brother was a mix of both, encouraging him and his fearless instincts while also making sure he knew what he did wrong and why it was wrong. It didn't work much. He was glad for it, for this fearlessness had made him better than his peers when he became part of a greater cause. But it was also this fearlessness that brought about his ruin.
Many a times from the above Wall he would see a figure in the nearby forest beyond the Wall. A woman would stand there and watch him. He had grown curious about the woman, the feeling only grows the more he saw her until one day he decided to ride beyond the wall to see who she was. His men tried to stop him but he hardly listened to them. He took his horse and found the woman, a pale thing with eyes as blue and bright as stars in the night sky.
He woke to the sound of snow crunching. He sat up with a start, axe ready to strike instantly. Though seeing as who it was, he lowered his guard.
"You shouldn't sneak up on me like that," the man said gruffly, a light glare pinned at his guest.
"The Last Greenseer sends you one final gift" the Child of the Forest spoke, lowering the covered parcel it brought with it. The man looked at the parcel curiously, reaching out and taking it from the Child. Unwrapping it slowly he found himself a little surprised.
Wrapped in the rotting black and grey cloth was a sheathed long sword. The sheath was in surprising condition, looking almost new. The cross-guard was wavy gold with a single ruby fixed in the centre, the grip was made of leather dyed grey and hilt gold designed to look like burning flames. He pulled the sword out from its sheath and marvelled at the weapon. It was lighter than he expected it to be. The blade was a dark grey, almost black, with ripples running across it. He swung it a few times and found how easy it was to wield. He sliced the tree he had been sleeping under and saw how deep he cut so easily. This was a dangerous weapon.
"Did he linger long after our talk," the man asked, sheathing the blade and strapping it to his waist.
"He is still holding on by a thread. He believes there are still things he might be able to do, things to help you" the Child shrugged.
"What about your people? What will you do now, after the Greenseer's passing."
"What we have done since the Wall had been built, remain on this side and watch as you had many years ago."
"You could do more on the other side. We will need all the help we can get."
"We all have our role, Rickon Stark. Ours is on this side."
Rickon Stark, now that was a name he had not heard in a long time or a name that had not been used for him for centuries. He had seen how the times had changed in the Weirwood minds, the events from his death to the present day. He does not exist in this world, not anymore, not after the atrocities he had committed.
"It's truly not, is it? You were ousted from your homes when those Andals invaded your homes, when they burned the trees and killed your Kin. You were forced to this side of the world. You can find a home on the other side once more. There are still groves of Weirwood there. You do not need to hide anymore."
The Child stared Rickon down for a while before it jumped into the tree and vanished in the foliage. Rickon stared, expecting some form of a reply. He received none.
A shiver ran down his spine as the temperature dropped around him. He felt it from deep within, a sort of cold that froze even the hottest of flames. Darkness seemed to descend and immediately he found cover behind the trees. A man came running down the path he had been walking on, a man in all black, a man of the Night's Watch from what it seemed. He looked scared, his eyes large and his mouth gaping open. The man looked everywhere with a wild look in his eyes as if he was looking for something. And then he stopped, staring forward with absolute dread. Rickon stared as well and what he saw chilled him.
A tall and gaunt figure stood on the snowy path, its flesh pale as milk. Its cold eyes burning like ice stared at the man opposite to it. For the man, the reason for his terror was easy to guess. The thing was holding the head of a man. But for Rickon, the dread came for another reason. The sight of this thing reminded him too much of that woman, the one that had lured him in and turned his world around in the worst way possible.
The thing threw the head in his hand at the man, who stared at it in horror. He could only stare before letting out a cry of fright and running away from there as fast as possible. But the thing did not move, it did not give him chase. It only watched the man run away. Then it turned to walk away, but stopped and stared. He had seen Rickon hiding in the shadow of the trees.
He cursed under his breath and walked out, knowing for certain that there would be no escaping for him. The thing stared at him and he stared right back at it. A flicker seemed to pass in the thing's eyes and it drew its sword. Rickon was barely able to draw his own to block the strike.
You have…retained…some boons…from your…condition, the Greenseer had told him in the cave. Maybe that had been what allowed Rickon to block and push the thing back. The whole ordeal seemed to surprise the thing, looking as if it couldn't believe that his strike had been blocked. Rickon used this moment to his advantage, getting in close and burying his sword into the thing's chest. Blue blood seeped out of the wound before the thing burst into tiny shards of ice.
Rickon heard the wailing of multiple voices, their screeching sounds hurting his ears. But the sound did not last long, the sound of objects falling on the snow following it. He touched his face where he felt the cold caress him and silently observed the blood on his fingers. For a moment he could have sworn he saw hints of blue in it.
He wiped the blood on his pants and resumed his walk down the road, cleaning the blade on the cloak he wore and sheathing it. A little further he found a horse standing by the side of the road, staring at him. A small smile formed on his lips as he grabbed the reins of the horse and mounted it. With a gentle kick to the horse's side, he rode towards his destination.
