Rickon Stark
Rickon Stark, the youngest child of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Stark, is a boy of three years at the opening of the story, yet he already displays the fierce, untamed spirit that the Starks call "wolf blood." He is described as wild as a winter storm, prone to weeping and anger by turns, and deeply bonded to his black direwolf, Shaggydog, whose savage nature mirrors his own. Unlike his older siblings, Rickon is too young to fully comprehend the catastrophes that befall his house, but he feels them with a raw, visceral intensity that shapes his every action.
Identity and Early Life
Rickon is introduced as a baby, the youngest of the Stark children, and is initially defined by his age and his relationship to his direwolf. When the Stark children discover the direwolf pups, Rickon is given the smallest, a black-furred wolf he names Shaggydog, a name his brother Bran considers "pretty stupid." From the beginning, Rickon's wolf is the most unruly of the litter; its fur darkens until it is all black, and its eyes burn with green fire. Rickon himself is described as a "little baby" by his siblings, but even at three, he shows a stubborn will. When his father and older brothers ride out to see a man beheaded, Rickon is left behind, and his reaction to the events that follow reveals a child who feels abandonment with a depth that surprises those around him.
Life and Plot Trajectory
Rickon's world unravels with the departure of his father and older siblings for King's Landing. He is left at Winterfell with his mother, Catelyn, and his brother Bran, but Catelyn becomes consumed with nursing the comatose Bran after his fall. Robb, the acting lord, notes that Rickon "thinks everyone has deserted him, so he follows me around all day, clutching my leg and crying." This sense of abandonment intensifies when Robb calls the northern banners and marches south to war. Rickon refuses to come down to say farewell, screaming "NO farewell!" from his chamber, and later tells Bran that "no one ever comes back." His grief manifests as wildness: he refuses to eat, cries and screams for most of a night, punches Old Nan, and vanishes into the crypts of Winterfell, where he is found slashing at his rescuers with a rusted iron sword snatched from a dead king's hand. Shaggydog, chained in the kennels for savaging a third man, is set loose by Rickon, and the wolf bites Mikken and Gage before being subdued by Robb and Grey Wind.
Relationships and Conflict
Rickon's primary bond is with Shaggydog, a direwolf as wild and untamed as the boy himself. The wolf is described as having eyes like "green fire" and is feared by the castle's inhabitants. When Maester Luwin tries to argue that Shaggydog must be chained or killed, Rickon defiantly declares, "He was not made for chains." His relationship with his siblings is marked by a desperate need for reassurance. He clings to Robb, but Robb's departure for war leaves him feeling utterly abandoned. With Bran, he shares a bond of grief and fear, but Rickon's terror is more primal. When Bran dreams of their father in the crypts and goes to investigate, he finds Rickon hiding in their father's empty tomb, having had the same dream. Rickon insists, "I saw him last night. You leave him be. He's coming home now, like he promised." This shared prophetic dream reveals a deep, intuitive connection to the Stark bloodline and the old gods, but it also underscores Rickon's inability to process the truth of his father's death.
Change and Ending
Rickon's trajectory is one of increasing isolation and wildness. As the war claims his father and draws his mother and brother away, he retreats into a world of grief and fury, his only comfort the savage presence of Shaggydog. By the time Robb marches south, Rickon has become a creature of the crypts, waiting for a father who will never return. The final image of him in this volume is of a small, heartbroken boy, clinging to the belief that his father is coming home, while the direwolves howl in mourning for a loss he cannot yet fully name. His story is left unresolved, a thread of raw, untamed Stark blood that has been driven deep into the darkness of Winterfell, waiting for the winter that is coming.
