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— [Y/N] woke up to a quiet castle. There was no Cregan, or Jacaerys, or any of Cregans handmaidens.
Little Rickon was waiting for her with his Septa. And the two walked with Ethon outside around the walls of Winterfell, enjoying the lovely windy morning.
Rickon was talking about what his Septa had taught him - the house sigils - and was distraught about how many there was, and how many house words they had.
[Y/N] was partially hearing what her nephew was saying. She watched Ethon in awe – he walked in unison with the Stark's, making sure his paws were timing well with their feet.
"Papa told me he'd be gone for a while.."
This caught her attention.
Her partially bruised face, glanced at him. "How do you mean, Rickon?"
Rickons Stark curls, turned towards the floor. "He told me it's a secret."
[Y/N] stopped walking, Rickon and Ethon mimicking her, she grabbed the boy by his shoulders and knelt to his height.
"Nephew, please. I'm good at keeping secrets. Promise."
"Promise on mama?"
[Y/N] stared at the boy. The eyes he had got from his mother stared back. She felt her words get trapped, teasing her, telling her to "Choke, girl. Don't lie to the boy."
"I promise, sweet boy."
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[Y/N] sat in the dining hall. Thinking everything over. Her brother was off marrying a woman.
Not even a moment to let the child he had from his first wife get to know her. Her brother had not a braincell to spare.
After Rickon had spilt his guts outs, he and Ethon began to play with the other children of Winterfell – Ethon moreorless being their guard, making sure no harm came to the children.
Her Septa, Joenne, walked towards her, a bowl of soup, of which [Y/N] loved, was sat in front of her.
She sat in front of the girl, her hands subconsciously clamped together. They were shaking previously.
