rillpup

[rillpup]

@youngestdcg

     Yet again the teenager had found himself in and out of juvie in a matter of days ( thanks to the perks of his surname ). Nevertheless, he was still required to participate in the mandated community service hours. How many times would he have to “give back to the community” before they realized he was simply beyond teaching. For rebellion was the only thing Rickon had. His defiance was his. Of course, the relentless comparisons to his older siblings only annoyed him further — “Why can’t you be more like Robb. Or Bran?” — but at the end of the day they weren’t here. They were too busy to make any effort to include their baby brother in their lives. And so, the longer the abandonment lasted, the tighter he held on to his anger.      A heavy sigh escaped lips so often accompanied by blood, as he entered a small building where he was to work. Beaten-up boots took him to what seemed to be a front desk, however it was deserted. “Hello?” The teen called out, with little effort made to mask his persistent annoyance. A few moments of silence passed before a hound trotted up to him. Rickon made his best attempts to stifle the grin which threatened in response as he reached his hand out and began petting the dog.

[rillpup]

     He had grown so used to his older siblings making him feel left out . . . alone. For a while, Rickon simply thought he wasn’t meant to be around other people. That only among the wolves did he belong. Only when beside Shaggydog did he feel loved.      But Iren was . . . different. Logically, he knew his siblings loved and cared for him, but sometimes he felt like he was forgotten about. Or perhaps ignored. But Iren paid attention to him. And seemed unbothered to do it.      A grin spreads as her hands find his messy tangles. Her touch was soothing, and for just a moment, the child within him cried out for a mother he had lost with so little time between them. In an instant, however, Rickon forcibly ignores such achings, instead laughing with the other.      “Yeah, and then I’ll ride a dragon too.” Responded the young man, voice heavy with sarcastic exaggeration.

[rillpup]

     A large grin akin to a Cheshire found its place comfortably upon Rickon’s expression, followed by a stifled giggle. The wild youth eagerly obeyed, moving closer to the wall so that the others might join. “Tell me more about the skinchangers, Jon.” A sheepish pause, with his voice quieting ever so slightly. “And is there a way I might become one?”

[rillpup]

     “Well maybe they should.” Rickon quipped, furrowed brows dancing in blatant confusion. While he wasn’t able to spend nearly as much time with Robb, Jon, and even Theon, as he wished he could have, the few instances had taught him all about fighting, and when a man should defend his honor. ( Despite knowing very well his lordfather would disagree. Yes, sometimes it was a wonder the pacifistic Ned Stark created such a boy of claws and teeth; one as wild and untamed as the winter’s storms. )      The boy is hesitant to release his anger, but as the other musses up his hair an easy smirk finds him once again. “Okay . . . but we could still spit in his drink or something, if you want.”

[rillpup]

     Starry-eyed with a Cheshire grin, the boy gives a dutiful nod. Cogged gears turn diligently as Rickon begins his pace towards the nearest exit. If anyone asked of him, he had decided he would claim he was on his way to the privy.      The youth hadn’t realized he had been holding his breath until the moment he is passed the great door and a large exhale eagerly escapes him. His smile is returned, as he beams upon his newest companion.

[rillpup]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃.   /   𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐄𝐃.

    Wide eyes of youth look up at the man before giving an enthusiastic nod. Rickon immediately scrambles to his feet and nears the other. “Show me something exciting!” He practically demands, excitement making him forget his well rehearsed manners. “I’m not allowed to go anywhere without an escort, ‘nd everyone’s too busy to take me anywhere fun.” The brunette added, with just the slightest pout to his words.     “What are your crypts like?” Asked Rickon, head tilting alongside his question. He had frequently taken refuge in the crypts of Winterfell, and naturally assumed all major castles had a similar area.

[rillpup]

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