"Father, Mother, may I have a moment of your time before we break our fast?" There was a note of weight in Rickon's tone. Her eldest had inherited the best of Jon and Shireen - a sharp, long masculine face with high cheekbones and delicate eyebrows framed by long raven locks. His burly frame threatened to spill from underneath an intricate silver-lined padded surcoat that mirrored his father's sigil but in black-on-grey. Tall and dashing, as muscled as his father, if not more, courteous with an easy smile resting on his lip, he made many a maiden swoon after him.