Chapter 39 - Frustration of the Exiled one
Alaric lifted Arya carefully and handed her to a waiting servant who carried her with the practiced ease of someone who had done this before.
He straightened.
Ned was standing at the hall's edge.
Looking at him.
He gave a small nod toward the corridor.
Alaric followed.
The solar was exactly as he remembered.
The fire. The desk with the papers that were never fully cleared. The chair behind the desk that was Ned's and the chairs in front of it that had been Alaric's and Robb's and Jon's at various points depending on what needed discussing.
Ned sat behind the desk.
Alaric sat across from it.
The fire settled.
Neither of them spoke for a moment — the specific silence of two people who had a great deal to say and were deciding where to start.
"How have you been Alacric. I Heard quite great things about you from a lot of people I might say. Lord Starke , Lord Royce, Late Lord Jon Arryn. I am proud of you son. "
Alaric was quiet for a moment." Thank you Lord Stark."
Ned heard it and was disappointed at hearing that. " I know you feel like you have been exiled from the North, that's why it took you so long to come back home. But trust me when I say this, It was not my intention to hurt you."
Alacric shook his head " It's nothing like that, it's just ."
Ned didn't let him complete his sentence." Then why call me Lord Stark instead of Uncle. You hurt me son. Why wound me like this." Ned said genuinely hurt by this.
"It seemed appropriate, " he said.
"It seemed like your anger and frustration towards me , i am not saying it's wrong. On the other hand I could understand it better. I have feel the same way in the past. I was also sent in Vale for fostering" Ned said.
Alaric looked at the fire.
"When I left," he said. "It felt like a sending away. I know the reasons. I understood them at the time and I understand them now." He paused. "But it still felt like what it felt like. "
Ned said nothing.
"And I told myself it was for my good," Alaric said pouring his heart out. "That I had taken it and made something of it. Which is true." He looked at Ned. "But the beginning of it wasn't my choice. And calling you Lord Stark was — I don't know, maybe it was frustration."
Ned was quiet for a long moment.
"I sent you away," Ned said, "because Winterfell wasn't big enough for you. I always felt like you are being held back here. But if you feel like I cast you out I am truly sorry. But if I have to make a decision like that again in the past ,i would do the same . Because i know your potential. I could see my brother in you."
Alaric looked at him.
"Not as a punishment," Ned said. "Not because of what happened in the yard. Because I had watched you for three years and I could see what you were going to be and I knew — I knew — that if you stayed here the walls were going to be left behind in one thing that take my brother from me . Take half my family from me ." He paused. "Edwyn could give you something I couldn't. The Vale could give you something the North couldn't. Not better. Different. Things you needed — Restraint and patience and Political awareness."
Alaric said nothing.
He looked at Alaric directly.
The fire settled.
Alaric sat with it.
Four years of distance and mercenary work and tournament victories and all the name and glory. But it wasn't enough for Alacric to satisfied.
It didn't fix everything.
He craved home but felt angry every time he thinks of that day.
"You read Edwyn's letters," Alaric said.
"Every one's , every letter" Ned said"The Royce's.And Jon Arryn's." A pause. "And the Blackfish's. Which were the most interesting because the Blackfish doesn't write letters unless something has genuinely surprised him and you surprised him several times."
Something moved in Alaric's expression.
"I was proud," Ned said simply. "I want you to know that. Whatever the distance was about — I was proud. Every letter. Every report."
He held Alaric's eyes. "I am proud."
Alaric looked at the fire.
At the desk.
At the man across it who had raised him without being asked to and had done it imperfectly and was acknowledging the imperfection with the same directness he acknowledged everything.
"Forget about it.There is something I need to discuss with you, that's why I came here." Alaric said. "About the king. About what comes next."
Ned's expression shifted — the personal giving way to the lord, the two things existing in the same face the way they always existed in Ned's face.
" What about it." Ned said.
"He's going to ask you, you know To become the Hand of the King." Alaric said.
"He already did ask me that. Ordered me to be the Hand of the King."
"Refuse him, anyhow. Refuse him." Alaric said.
Ned was quiet." You know I can't. It's an order from the King. We can't refuse it and you know it."
Alacric got angry"Because you always say yes to things you believe are right," Alaric said. "Regardless of what it costs."
Ned looked at him for a long moment but was right.
"I have been in King's Landing," Alaric said. "I have seen what it is. What it does." He leaned forward. "I have enemies there. The Lannisters specifically. For the sake of Old God's, I beg you to refuse it."
Ned was quiet.
Ned looked at him for a long time.
At the seventeen year old who had gone away at thirteen and come back with a reputation that had preceded him all the way to the Small Council chamber and was now sitting in his solar telling him about King's Landing .
"I haven't said yes yet, but Robert won't let me refuse. You know as they say King gets what they want." Ned said.
"If Kings gets everything they want you still would be fighting the rebellion, as you say." Alaric said.
Ned almost smiled.
The fire burned
Outside Winterfell was settling into its night — the castle sounds diminishing, the cold pressing in, the specific quiet of a northern fortress at the end of a long day.
"Uncle Ned," Alaric said.
Ned looked at him.
Something moved in Ned's expression — the contained thing finally allowed to be what it was, briefly, before being contained again because Ned Stark had been containing things his entire life and old habits were what they were.
"Get some rest," Ned said. "We'll talk more tomorrow."
Alaric stood angrily and frustrated.
Moved to the door.
"Alaric," Ned said.
He stopped.
"I'm glad you're home," Ned said.
Ned Stark. The man who had raised him without being asked. Who had sent him away without explaining why.
Four words that had been sitting in the solar for four years waiting to be said.
Alaric stood at the door for a moment.
"Aye," he said. "Me too."
He left.
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