Chapter 18 — "Letters"
The land grant had been approved and the papers signed but the ground itself was still empty. Settlement took time — structures had to be built, livestock sourced, the first season planned before winter closed the roads entirely. Edwyn had people working on it. The Painted Dogs were still camped two miles from the Gate. The passes were quiet.
Alaric had been back inside House Starke's hold for a week now , sleeping in a real bed for the first time since a long time, eating at Edwyn's table, He hasn't been here for a long time. He almost spend his time at Bloody gate or mountains to be honest. He feels that is more independent and free to do so. But after coming here after a while he feels comfortable. He decided to come here after Lord Edwyn talks last time. He decided to be at home after a while.
The letters have been piled up for months now,He people the recent ones and decided to read them.
He read them alone in the solar with the fire going and the mountain dark pressing against the narrow windows and the sounds of the hold settling around him for the night.
He read Robb's first.
Alaric —
Gods man it's been almost three years brother. THREE. I had to check the date twice because I couldn't believe it myself. Bran says you've forgotten what we look like. Arya says you've probably gone feral and started living in a cave. I told them both to shut up but honestly if you don't come home soon knowing you that won't be very far from truth.
Things here are well enough. Father is Father. Serious and quiet and working always. Mother is well, to be honest happy a bit with your absence. Rickon is walking now which is chaos as you can imagine. Sansa has become very proper and very southern which you can form your own opinions about.
Jon is Jon. You know how he is. Won't say much but he asks about you more than anyone. He has become more outspoken and confident taking a inspiration from you which has caused a tension to my mother but still far from your kind of troubles
I'm learning what it means to be heir. Father has me in council meetings now. Sitting and listening mostly. Sometimes I want to stand up and say something and then I look at Father's face and I sit back down. He says that's the first lesson. I think the first lesson is that lords spend most of their time listening to things that bore them and pretending otherwise.
I sparred with Jory last week and actually held my own for the first time. Thought you should know since you spent your time teaching me basics.
Come home. Even for a moon's turn. Winterfell is too quiet without someone breaking rules and bones.
— Robb
Alaric read it twice.
The second time slower than the first.
There was something in Robb's letters that had always been the same — that particular warmth that came off the page the way warmth came off a fire, uncalculated, just present. Years hadn't changed it. Alaric hadn't expected it to. Robb Stark would be warm at the end of the world and find something to joke about in the rubble.
He set it down and picked up Jon's.
Alaric —
I hope the Vale has been good to you. I hope you are well.
Things at Winterfell are the same as they always are. I train. I study. I try to stay out of Lady Stark's way which gets harder as I get older. You know how it is. You have experienced it first hand. But it's okay.
I've been thinking about what you said the morning you left. About holding my head up. I've been trying. Some days are easier than others. Most days are easier than they used to be. I think that counts for something.
Father says you've done well. He doesn't say more than that but the way he says it is different from how he says ordinary things. You can always tell with him. He doesn't need many words when the few he uses are the right ones.
I miss you.
Come home when you can. There's no rush. But come home soon big brother
— Jon
He sat with Jon's letter longer than he sat with Robb's.
Jon had always done that — said the thing nobody else said because everyone else was busy deciding whether to say it. Three years and he was still doing it. I miss you. Plain and clean and costing him something to write and written anyway.
Most days are easier than they used to be. I think that counts for something.
It counted for something.
The fire had burned down slightly by the time he picked up the third letter.
Ned's handwriting was what it always was — precise, unhurried, the handwriting of a man who said what he meant and stopped when he had finished saying it. No wasted words. No wasted space. Just the thing itself.
Alaric —
Lord Edwyn writes well of you. He has written well of you for two years and I have read every letter.
Your brothers miss you. Your sisters too, though Arya expresses it differently from the others. Bran asked me last week what the Vale looked like. I told him it looked like mountains. He seemed unsatisfied with that answer. I expect you would describe it better.
I find I would like to see you.
I have heard about lot of things of you both good and bad. You are same as your Father. He would have been proud to see you. I am proud of you to the man you have become.
Come home when the road permits. There is no urgency. The North will be here when you arrive. Your siblings misses you.
— Eddard Stark
He read it three times.
The first time quickly. The second time slowly. The third time he wasn't reading so much as sitting with it the way you sat with things that didn't need more processing, just more time.
I find I would like to see you.
Seven words. From a man who had raised him without being asked to. Who had buried his brother and kept his promise and handed a bastard boy a leather purse at a gate and told him to make them proud.
He folded all three letters carefully.
Put them in the inside pocket of his coat where they sat against his chest.
He looked at the fire for a long time.
Outside the window the mountains were dark shapes against a darker sky. The same mountains they had always been — the mountains that had built him and broke men and swallowed two years of his life and given him something he still didn't have a clean name for.
He almost smiled.
The fire went out.
He sat in the dark for a while longer.
In the morning he would again leave for the gates and mountains.
--
Donate your power Stones if you like the story. Please Comment and Share your thoughts about the story