Rickon

"I still think you could have told him a lot better than you did." Rickon said to Bran. They were both in Bran's chambers sitting in front of the burning hearth while Ghost was resting on the bed. There was quite amount tension going on with all of the Starks right now given the usurpation of the Northern Crown by Sansa. Arya spent almost all of her time alone or with Lady Brienne training and hardly said a word to anyone.

Bran practically took no side in any of it. He only spoke when spoken to and didn't keep anything secret when asked. That was how Sansa kept an eye on Jon and what he was doing. "I told Jon the situation, that's all."

Rickon scoffed at his older brother. "But you made it sound like we're the ones betraying him." He didn't know where he stood in this. He did feel that Jon should be in the north since he knew better than anyone how they had to prepare, but at the same time, he could feel that seeking aid from the saith was the best course of action.

Bran looked from the flames to Rickon, but his stare remained the same as it always was. Blank. "I'm sorry. It didn't cross my mind."

Rickon sighed as if exhausted with talking to his brother. "There's got to be a way to get some feelings back into you."

"I remember how I was when I could still feel. I could act that way if you'd like, but it wouldn't be real."

Rickon rolled his eyes as he turned his gaze back to the flames. "Like I said, there's got to be a way to get some emotion back into you." He wasn't necessarily mad at Bran for being how he was, he just missed how he used to be. Gone was his brother and now he felt alone in a way.

There was a pregnant silence that followed. "How's your practice coming?"

"You're all seeing, aren't you? You tell me."

"It's not like that. I can see it's bits and pieces but never all at once. I'm trying to learn how to see better."

Rickon understood even though he didn't which felt ridiculous. The greensight was such a confusing power. "I'm still not strong enough to wield my sword yet, but I have no problems with a bow."

"Osha helped you with that, didn't she?"

Rickon couldn't help but feel discouraged. "Yes, she did. She taught me how to hunt and how to survive, then we were captured." The memory saddened Rickon. He missed her. She never acted like it, but she was more of a mother to him than his real one had the chance to be.

"I'm sorry that happened."

"It wasn't your fault. How could we have known the Greatjon was dead when we got there?" There was a brief silence between the two of them, it was becoming frequent and awkward. "What do you see in your visions lately?"

"The last one I had showed Jon and Theon win against the Ironborn. He rode on the back of a dragon, he seemed like he belonged there."

Rickon's head shot up along with his body from his seat. "He what? He rode a dragon?" This was the first he heard of this. "But I thought Ygris and Lyrras weren't big enough yet." Although, considering how fast they grew, it wouldn't come as a surprise if they had a spontaneous growth spurt.

"He didn't. He rode on of Daenerys Targaryen's. The big green one, Rhaegal."

Rickon sat back down, almost feeling the need to catch his breath. Did this mean that Jon had a third dragon now, or was is a one time event? Considering that it was the dragon named after his blood father, it couldn't have been a coincidence. "I wish I could ride a dragon. Ygris and Lyarras are almost big enough, but I doubt that they'll let me."

"It's not impossible. You need don't to be a Targaryen to have the love of the dragons. Ygris and Lyarras prove that every day when they spend time with us."

Rickon perked his head up. "So, it's possible?"

Bran didn't say anything, he just looked back into the flames of the hearth. "I wish to go the Godswood."

Disappointed with no answer, Rickon figured that the conversation was done. "I'll get some help." He said before he grabbed his sword left the room with Ghost. He did his sword belt around his waist and displayed his weapon proudly. He didn't intend to use it. For now, it was just for show like a few of the other lords and ladies did. With the help of one of the Winterfell guards, Rickon went with Bran as they made their way to the Godswood.

Once they got there, the guard departed back to his duties and left the two Stark boys alone. Bran sat next to the weirwood and placed his hand upon it. His eyes turned a ghost white and he sat there motionless. It always made Rickon feel uncomfortable when he watched Bran do this. Ghost seemed to feel the same way and always kept a distance. They both looked at Bran as if they didn't recognize him.

Snow began to fall lightly. The flakes of white disappeared as soon as they landed on the Stark boys' cloaks. Bran came back to himself and looked over at Rickon. "What did you see?" Rickon asked.

He took a few deep breaths first. "Jon and Theon just made it to Flint's Finger. Would you like to see?"

"What? I can't do what you do. I'm not a warg or a greenseer."

"A warg, not yet. But a greenseer, yes. The day father died, we both saw him in the crypts. The day Robb died, you saw it in a dream. The Night Jon died, you saw it in the flames of a fire you made with Osha." Bran extended his hand out to Rickon, offering to show him. "Don't worry, you won't end up like me. I became this way because I made a mistake and my training happened all at once."

Rickon was hesitant, but he took his brother's hand and placed his other on the weirwood too. He felt a sensation flow throw him. The next thing he knew, he was standing next to Bran at the docks of a village. "What is this?" He asked as he looked around.

"Welcome to Flint's Finger. It is only a part of what I see, every day, every hour, every moment, everywhere." The docks were lively with activity and everyone around them seemed to be in a very joyous mood. "This way," Bran said, guiding Rickon with him.

They walked among many people unloading fishing barges as they left the docks and walked by all the buildings across a road. "Can they see us?" Rickon asked.

"No, they can't. Look over there." Bran pointed over to a stable and next to some horses were Jon and Theon. Jon's arm was in a sling and Theon's left arm was bandaged. But more than just bandages, Theon had many bruises on his face healing.

"Are they alright?"

Bran nodded. "You don't want to know what happened. It's rather gruesome." For Bran to say that for how he probably meant it truly was as it sounded. They walked over to them and listened in to the conversation.

"Are you sure that's what want?" Theon asked.

"Aye," Jon said. "The North has lost faith in me, but Daenerys hasn't. Here I am trying to unite everyone to survive, and all the lords care about is about the dirt beneath them and who it belongs to."

"If we get through this, I'll give you all the support I can."

"You will get through this. Sansa will support you for rescuing her, and the lords trust her. As for me… if I'm not wanted in Winterfell then I'll stay with the family that does."

Rickon looked to Bran as they continued to talk. "What's he talking about?"

"Daenerys offered Jon a place among her council if he is cast out. He'll be commander of her armies and maybe even more soon. If House Stark has no place for him, then House Targaryen does."

"What? No! Jon's our brother and a lord of the North. He can't just be thrown out like he's nothing!"

"If Sansa commands it, then he will be. She's Queen in the North."

"This isn't right. It isn't fair." Rickon's attention was drawn to laughing he heard. Across the road at the docks, he saw a small boy playing with a toy sword. He couldn't have been older than four. Something about the boy seemed awfully familiar to Rickon.

Rickon suddenly noticed a horse galloping towards them on the road. The boy was right in its path and the horse wasn't slowing down, it was going to run over the boy. Rickon panicked, he couldn't help but scream for help. "WATCH OUT!"

From behind Rickon, Theon sprinted as fast as he could and dove at the boy, moving them both out of the way and keeping him from being crushed. The boy started to cry as Theon got up and checked on his condition. "Are you alright?" Theon asked. The boy nodded, tears falling from his eyes.

"Theon!" a woman shouted. Theon and the boy both looked over to a woman running from the docks to the boy. She picked the boy up and held him closely to her. "Seven hells! How many times have I told you not to play at the roads, you could've been killed!"

"I'm sorry mama," the boy cried. He hugged his mother as tight as he could before looking at Theon. "He saved me, mama."

The woman looked over at Theon, wide-eyedas did Theon. "I can't thank you enough, I owe you a great debt."

"You owe nothing." He took another look at the boy as did Rickon. The little boy looked very similar to Theon. "What's his name?" Theon inquired.

"His name's Theon Snow, I named him after his father." Theon turned paler than he already was. Rickon was lost for words.

"It's a good name," Theon told her, his voice shaking.

She smiled at him as she gave a small curtsey. "It is, that's why I chose it. Thank you again." She walked away back to the docks with her son in her arms. Theon couldn't seem to stop watching them until they were out of sight. He turned back and walked back to Jon, who heard the whole thing.

"Do you know her?" Jon asked as he came to him.

Theon nodded. "We spent a day on a ship together when I first returned to Pyke."

Jon seemed to put two and two together after he heard that. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I couldn't. I wanted to but I couldn't." He looked back over to the docks one last time. "It might be better if I don't, for now."

"For now?"

"If I come back from Winterfell with my head still on my shoulders, then I will." He took one more look to where he last saw the woman and her son. "Seven hells, I have a son."

Jon smiled at Theon. He didn't seem to show it, but they all could tell Theon was happy. "How'd you know the horse was coming?" Jon asked curiously. "You had your back turned to the road then suddenly you ran."

Theon shook his head. "I thought I heard some shouting but… the more I think on it, it was rather like a thought or just a reaction. I don't know."

Rickon froze, they could hear them? Before he could do anything else, Bran placed a hand on his shoulder and they both returned to themselves in Winterfell. Rickon fell backwards into the snow, exhausted. "I thought you said they couldn't see us." He said to Bran, but directed it up to the sky.

"It's complicated. You'll understand soon."

"No thanks. I've had enough of this magic for one day." Rickon brought himself up as a couple of guardsmen approached the boys.

"Lord Rickon, Lord Brandon," One of them said. "There's a man of the Night's Watch here wishing to have an audience with Lord Brandon."

"Samwell Tarly." Bran said.

"Uh, yes, how did you know?" He was one of the newer men recruited from a refugee hamlet about a fortnight ago. The others had been here long enough and knew that Bran possessed a magic of some kind.

The guard next to him rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Best not to ask." He advised. "We'll have him brought here at once, my lords."

The two men left the boys at the weirwood and soon after they returned escorting a large man in black and a woman carrying a child in her arms. The large man approached them both and bowed his head. "Bran, so good to see you again." His gaze turned to Rickon. "And you must be Rickon Stark."

"I am, but who are you?"

"Forgive my manners, I'm Samwell Tarly, and this is Gilly and our son, Little Sam." He gestured to the little boy in Gilly's arms. The child gave them both curious looks. "I can't tell you how good it is to see you safe, Bran. I thought for certain I sent you to your death letting you through the Wall. But when I heard at the Citadel you sent ravens warning everyone about the Army of the Dead. I never doubted it was really you."

"The other maesters didn't listen." Bran stated.

"No, they didn't." There was a brief moment of silence between all of them. "What happened to you beyond the Wall?"

"I became the Three Eyed Raven." Bran said blatantly.

"Oh... I'm afraid I don't know what that means."

"It means I see everything. Everything in the past, everything happening right now. I'm still trying to piece it all together, but there are things I can see right now. I saw you kill the White Walker with the dragonglass dagger. I saw you on the ship to Old Town. I saw you when you first read the note Grenn gave to you when you left Castle Black. You know about Jon."

Sam's eyes widened. "You do as well?"

"I saw him born in the Tower of Joy. Lord Howland Reed was here to confirm to our sisters that he's not our father son."

Rickon shuffled in place. "It's still hard to believe he's Rhaegar and Lyanna's bastard. Dangerous, even."

Sam looked at the ground nervously for a brief moment in silence then shook his head. "Actually, he's not."

Bran, for the first time Rickon has seen him since his return, looked confused. "Rhaegar kidnapped Lyanna and raped her in Dorne."

"No, he didn't. At the Citadel, Gilly and I transcribed the High Septon Maynard's diary. He annulled his marriage to Ellia and wed Rhaegar and Lyanna in a secret ceremony."

Rickon gaped upon what Samwell just said. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Are you certain?" Bran asked.

"There's a way we can find out." Rickon told him. They both looked at the weirwood and Bran placed his hand on the weirwood and Rickon followed quickly, forgetting about what he said earlier. They both found themselves standing next to a river and some trees in the summer.

There were three people standing at the edge of the water. A Septon, a man with silver air dressed in red and black clothes, and a woman with raven black hair who looked just like Arya but older. The Septon tied a band across the man and woman's hands as they spoke the wedding vows of the Seven to each other.

The two Stark brothers were witnessing the marriage of Rhaegar Targaryen and their Aunt Lyanna.

"I never imagined getting to see our aunt." Rickon confessed. There were many traits she shared of her father. The dark brown hair, the eyes, even the noses were almost the same. Aunt Lyanna's was smaller since she was a woman.

They were suddenly inside the bedroom of a castle and their aunt Lyanna was bleeding and dying on a bed. Next to her bedside was their father, but he was far younger. She leaned up to Ned's ear and whispered something to him. "His name is Aegon Targaryen. You have to protect him. Promise me, Ned. Promise me."

Bran and Rickon returned to themselves and both inhaled deeply. Rickon felt like he had ran across the hillside of Winterfell again.

They looked at each other, surprised and in disbelief. "Robert's Rebellion was built on a lie." Bran said. He looked over to Sam and Gilly. "Rhaegar never kidnapped our aunt or raped her. He loved her and she loved him. And Jon's real name is Aegon, Aegon Targaryen, the rightful heir to the Iron Throne."

"We have to tell someone!" Rickon said, still comprehending what he witnessed. "We need to tell Arya!"

"Yes, we should. Although, I think it would be best to keep this from Sansa." Bran said. For once, he wasn't going to be an oblivious blabbermouth.

"Your sister?" Sam asked. "If she already knows about Jon being Rhaegar's son, why keep her from this?"

Obviously because of Littlefinger. He seemed to enjoy when there was commotion and conflict and this would create the biggest of both. Before either boys could answer, the two guards returned to them. "My lords, your presence is requested in the Great Hall."

This was curious. Usually Sansa tried to keep them out as of late. "You're about to find out why." Rickon said to Sam as he walked behind Bran's cart and began to push him through the snow. Sam, Gilly, and Ghost followed closely behind them.

Almost all of the Northern Lords were gathered inside the Great Hall. Bran and Rickon took their places at the head table while Sam and Gilly stood off to the side. Arya wasn't present. Ever since the lords renounced Jon, she never attended the meetings and was rarely seen out in the open.

Sansa entered from the front of the room followed closely by Lord Baelish. Her 'ascendance' to become queen had changed her. She looked at ahead of herself rather than those around her and almost all the time was being whispered to by Lord Baelish. She sat down between her brothers' seats while Littlefinger stood behind her.

"Your Grace," Lord Glover said, "has there been any word of Jon Snow's whereabouts?"

Sansa looked over to Bran, expecting him to know exactly where he was.

"He's on his way from the Iron Islands." Bran informed. "He conquered the Ironborn for Daenerys Targaryen and travels with Theon Greyjoy and Ser Jorah Mormont and Lord Howland Reed. They are on their way here as we speak." At least he didn't mention that he rode one of the Dragon Queen's dragons.

"He travels with the traitor, Theon Greyjoy!?" Lord Glover exclaimed.

"He brings him to answer for the sacking of Winterfell no doubt." Lord Cerwyn added. "Perhaps there's hope for him yet." Some of the lords banged in agreement. Bran leaned over to Sansa, whispering something to her. Rickon guessed he was correcting Lord Cerwyn's assumption.

As Bran leaned away, Sansa addressed her lords. "Theon is traveling here on by his own will. He plans on giving himself up to face justice."

"What about Jorah?" Lady Mormont asked. "He was exiled after dishonoring his house. What purpose does he have at Winterfell?"

Sansa looked back to Bran, hoping for some clarity. "He is queensguard to Daenerys Targaryen. She'll be redevueing with them at Castle Cerwyn."

"Snow brings the Mad King's daughter here?" Lord Glover said. "He expects us to make peace with her?" Many others shook their heads in disagreement with such an idea. "I'll hang before I bend the knee to a Targaryen." Technically, he already did.

"My Lords," Sansa said, "Whatever purpose Jon would have to bring her here, I can assure you, he wouldn't bend the knee to her. Whatever her purpose is for coming here, I'm sure that without her armies it is not to conquer us. We shall wait until that time comes and prepare for the worst should it happen." Lord Glover seemed content, and the hall began to quiet down. Sansa looked over to where Sam and Gilly were. "A brother of the Night's Watch arrived today, claiming he had important information for us." Everyone's gaze turned to Sam as he stepped forward and bowed his head.

"Forgive me, your grace and my lords, but the information I had was meant for Jon first. It concerned him and the wars to come."

Rickon looked directly at him, slightly shaking his head. 'Don't tell them.' He thought.

"Jon Snow failed to fulfill his duties as King in the North," Lord Baelish said, "We have turned to someone who truly has put the North in front of her own ambitions." Rickon hated him. His voice was felt like it was a snake choking his victim. "Whatever information you have, you can entrust it with us."

"Lord Snow." Rickon corrected as he nervously stared down Littlefinger. "Jon is Lord of the Dreadfort therefore you will address him properly." There was silence. No one dared to take either side.

Sam looked uneasy, not trusting anyone in the room but the stares he received seemed to break his silence. "My name is Samwell Tarly. I was training to be a maester at the Citadel, but since I was the only one who seemed to do anything useful, I decided to leave and come here. Before I left, I stumbled across a piece of information and uncovered a great secret thought to have been lost." He paused, looking unsure whether or not to continue.

'Don't say it!' Rickon screamed in his mind.

"My Lords, your Grace," Sam said, "I may have discovered how to make Valyrian steel once again." Rickon sighed in relief as murmurs sounded throughout the halls. But once he realized what Sam had said, his interests peaked up.

"Did I hear you right?." Sansa asked.

"Yes. Valyrian steel. Aside from dragonglass, it's the only other thing that can kill White Walkers. Jon used his Valyrian sword at Hardhome to kill one."

"Are you sure about this?" Sansa leaned forward in her seat. Her mood seemed to feel a bit different than how it's recently been. It was like she wasn't trying to be Queen in the North right now.

"Jon wouldn't lie about it, not when he was in the position he was in." Sam said firmly.

"It seems he did better work as Lord Commander than as King in the North." Lord Baelish said. "Maybe it would be best to send him back to the Wall." Sansa didn't respond to that, but a few of the lords banged their tables at that. "So tell us, how does one make Valyrian steel?"

"I'm still not fully sure about the forging," Sam said, "but the key to the steel is the quenching. It's a special technique and can probably only be done by those who know how to rework the steel."

"I know of a man who knows how in King's Landing. I'll send word to have him brought to the North."

"Very good, Lord Baelish," Sansa told him. "Thank you for coming all this way, Samwell Tarly. I'll have a room made ready for your stay here." Sam bowed his head and stepped back to Gilly. "That will be all for today, we shall reconvene next when Jon arrives." Everyone got up from their seats and dispersed.

Littlefinger stole Sansa away to a corridor while Sam gathered with Bran and Rickon. "Let's find Arya," Rickon suggested. "We can talk with her somewhere private."

They found Arya in the crypts at the statue of Lyanna Stark. As they got closer, Arya spoke up, not even looking at them. "It's sad when you think about it, never knowing your mother. It pained my heart when our mother died at the Twins, but at least I knew her. Jon never even got to meet his mother, or his real father." She looked over to them. "Who's he?" She looked over to Sam.

"This is Samwell Tarly," Rickon told her. "He's the one who let Bran beyond the Wall."

"Pleasure," she said.

"If I may," Sam started, "why did the lords renounce Jon?"

Arya snorted, as if the answer was obvious. "Because they're proud cunts. They don't want anyone's help who isn't from Westeros against the dead. They put up with the foreign men at the Wall, but it seems they can't handle an army of actual fighters from another continent to help them. They got tired of Jon not being in the North, so they put it to a vote and made Sansa their Queen. But I really know why. Littlefinger's been planting seeds of doubt in all of the lords and Sansa. All he would need to completely turn them over to his side is the knowledge that Jon's a bastard of a Targaryen."

"Actually," Sam said. "There's something you'd might like to hear."