𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐜𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧 | 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐎𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 [ 𝐉𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 ]

Chapter Sixty One

           
  
          
                     ∞༺༻✧

Meanwhile, Rickon was training… in other areas, aside from swordsmanship or archery.  Learning how to write in three other ways, other than the Westerosi alphabet was a tedious task, but there was one thing the Kamakura nobles noticed, it was how the little pup was learning and growing fast.

Rickon had started to lose his Northern accent, and had gotten better at using his chopsticks. In that place, he was known as Yoshirō, for safety reasons. If he wanted to write to friends in Westeros, he would use that alias.

He was concentrating on his brush strokes; one wrong move could ruin the entire message of that letter. He could have looked into the sakura tree again, but he would rather practice his calligraphy. After getting scolded by Kyōko about his tree-surfing one too many times, the boy had stopped doing that altogether.

“雷龍があなたを導きますように… " (May the Thunder Dragon guide you…), he wrote. It was supposed to be a correspondence with a certain exiled emperor, whom he prayed was safe and sound.

It was such a misfortune that someone had to interrupt his work, a hooded fight, who did not look too friendly. He seemed to be intelligent enough to recognise the youngest Stark, even if his hair had been dyed brown.

“Well, well, well… if it isn't the missing pup. The Queen will have a field day with this one. " he muttered.

“その通りです。… あなたは死んだオオカミを探しています " (That's right… you are looking for a dead wolf), replied Rickon, who choose to speak the language of his newfound family.

“Ha! Quit the act, Rickon Stark; I know you understand me. "

"“彼は行ってしまった。 菅原義郎です." (He's gone. I am Yoshirō Suguwara now.)

The assassin was not having it.  Pulling out his dagger, he lunged forward, attempting to take the child's life. Rickon immediately dodged, utilising the space in his room to flee. He was young and still learning how to properly use his weapon, so he had no chance of ever fighting a trained assassin.

Running across the hallways woke some of the residents. It had been a surprise how there were no guards near the boy's room, not even one. Rickon… or rather, Yoshirō ran for his life, hiding behind pillars as his pursuer tried and failed to navigate the large palace.

Screaming for help would be a foolish choice, especially when there was a nearby balcony which the pup could use. The assassin smirked to himself, thinking that he had cornered the lad.

Taking the chance, Rickon used a trap that a guard had set there, tripping the criminal, disarming him, and giving the man the scare a lifetime. As the grey eyes of a wild wolf gazed into his blue ones, the young boy smirked.