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Chapter Twenty-Three: Words in the Solar
The dim candlelight flickered against the stone walls of Ned Stark's solar, casting long shadows over the three men seated around the heavy oak table. The tension in the room was thick, the silence stretched taut as Lord Rickard Karstark swirled the wine in his cup, his face unreadable.
Benjen Stark sat beside Ned, his expression carefully neutral, though the occasional flicker of amusement danced in his sharp grey-blue eyes. Ned himself felt the weight of the situation pressing against his shoulders.
Robb and Alys.
They had been caught in a compromising situation, one that did no favors to either House Stark or House Karstark. The North valued honor above all, and whispers of their heir's indiscretion could not be ignored.
Rickard was the first to break the silence, his gruff voice filling the room.
"That boy of yours," he said, shaking his head with something between exasperation and admiration. "Jon Snow, he's something else. My sons are some of the best fighters in my hall, besting older men in the yard more often than not." He huffed a breath, his eyes gleaming with something close to respect. "To take down three of them single-handedly like that? He'll be a terror on the battlefield in a few years."
Ned couldn't help but smile, a rare moment of pride warming his chest.
Benjen chuckled, shaking his head. "Aye. That boy of ours doesn't know how to do anything halfway."
Rickard let out a small laugh, breaking some of the tension in the room.
For a moment, silence returned, but this time, it was lighter.
Still, the issue at hand remained unresolved.
Ned exhaled, folding his hands atop the table. "This is a difficult situation, Rickard," he admitted. "But we must be straightforward with each other if we are to properly deal with it."
Before he could continue, a knock sounded at the door.
All three men turned toward it.
"Enter," Ned called.
The door swung open, revealing Jon Snow.
The boy stepped inside with his usual quiet grace, closing the door behind him. He stood tall, his posture sure and steady, his grey eyes calm but filled with purpose.
Ned frowned slightly. "Jon, why are you here?"
Jon met his gaze evenly. "I've spoken with Robb."
The air in the room shifted.
Jon continued, his voice measured but firm. "Robb understands the consequences of his actions. He is ready to take responsibility. If necessary, he is willing to wed Alys."
Rickard's brows lifted in surprise, but there was approval in his gaze.
Ned, however, shook his head. "Robb is just a boy."
Jon did not falter. "Boys younger than Robb have been betrothed before."
Ned's mouth pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing.
Jon pressed on. "We can say that House Stark and House Karstark have been in betrothal talks for some time, and that Robb and Alys, in their excitement, got ahead of themselves. This way, the good name of both houses remains untarnished, and no stain is left on Robb or Alys."
Rickard let out a short laugh, nodding in approval. "A clever solution. You have a sharp mind, boy."
Ned, however, still looked unconvinced. His gaze was heavy as he studied Jon. "So you want me to lie?"
Rickard leaned forward, his tone pragmatic. "I will lie to protect my daughter's good name, Ned. It is the nature of boys that age to chase after girls, and my daughter Alys should have known better."
Ned sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He was not a man who took falsehoods lightly.
Jon stepped closer, his voice quieter but no less certain. "It is a good match, Father. Robb will not find a better girl than Alys in the entire North. She is intelligent, strong, and will be a good wife for him."
Ned exhaled, his resistance beginning to waver.
Jon delivered his final point with quiet certainty. "And more importantly, she has the Stark look."
Ned stilled.
Jon continued, his grey eyes unwavering. "Alys has the dark brown hair and grey eyes of the Starks. The next generation of Starks will have the Stark look."
Ned remained silent, but Jon could see the wheels turning in his father's mind.
It was true. Of his four children, only Arya had the traditional Stark features. Robb, Sansa, and Bran all mostly carried the Tully coloring— dark auburn hair and blue eyes.
It had not caused any open dissent among his bannermen, but Ned knew well that the lords of the North valued blood and appearance as much as honor. A Stark should look like a Stark.
Alys Karstark would ensure that the next generation did.
Finally, Ned let out a slow breath, his expression grim but resolved. "Very well."
Rickard grunted in approval, satisfied. "Then let us make it official."
Jon inclined his head, then turned on his heel, leaving the room with measured steps.
Benjen followed, clapping Jon on the back as they walked down the hall. "You always did know how to get to him," he said with a smirk.
Jon only nodded, his mind already shifting away from the matter.
Behind them, the door closed as Lord Rickard Karstark and Lord Eddard Stark began the formal betrothal negotiations for Robb Stark and Alys Karstark.
And just like that, the future of House Stark and House Karstark was sealed.