{♔}-— His spirits lift at Sansa’s suggestion. As improbable as it truly is, to Rickon’s understanding it makes enough sense. The King’s belly was round, therefore he must like food. If he likes food, he must like celebrations of all kind. The idea is good enough for the boy. So, he turns his head to beam at his playmate.
”I bet there’s a big table we can all sit at together, and I’ll sit with you at the head of it. And Jon can visit from the Wall!” More hopes from the very depths of his still pure heart. Up and up, he climbs the winding stairs with more spring in his steps than before.
However, true to his elder sister’s word, the pitter patter of paws against stone and soft w o o f i n g can be heard from behind them.
”Don’t worry, Sansa! I’ll protect you!”
He reaches for her hand again, wrapping his smaller fingers around her slender ones. Rickon quickens his pace. He figures that while they’re no match for their wolves, they will give their best effort.
:: 〖 ❣ 〗――— ::
For all she acts like a lady, Sansa was never truly cold to her siblings. They are her companions after all, and she remembers the day her lord father had placed a small sleeping babe in her arms. He had wisps of dark hair, didn’t so much as gurgle in Sansa’s arms—- Bran was quiet and so peaceful as he dreamed.
Rickon’s first order of business was to tug on her hair and she still remembers the restless shift of his body in her arms, so utterly dangerous at that time. She laughs about it now because in hindsight, it goes to show the kind of energetic boy he grows up to be.
"I bet he’d like that. Maybe there’d even be a tourney held for your presence, great brother of the North!“ Oh, she could daydream about this all day. Tourneys and knights and her favor tied around a strong arm, a wreath of flowers in her hair. Soon, she thinks exulting.
His fingers are so small but his grip is tight, determined. Sansa laughs and makes to hasten her steps. She is just as into the game as he is, as they take the stairs– mindful of the sounds behind them. In a bit, she has been huffing and puffing and– ”Oh, Rickon. Should we make a stand here? Like true heroes!“