Chapter 149: Family Across the Sea
After separating from Waymar, Bjorn followed the two Northern men deeper into the Sealord's palace.
The halls were wide and richly decorated, though Bjorn barely looked at any of it. His thoughts were already on Aldric and Sera.
One of the Northern men walked slightly ahead, guiding him through the eastern wing.
"Lord Aldric is in the conference room, my lord," the man explained. "He's meeting several important Braavosi merchants and keyholders. They've been discussing trade since early this morning."
"He does that often?" Bjorn asked.
"Nearly every day."
Bjorn smiled slightly at that.
The last time he had seen Aldric, he had still thought of him as his little brother—the quiet boy who preferred books and numbers over swords and hunting. It was difficult to imagine that same boy sitting across from the most powerful merchants in Braavos.
They turned down another corridor and reached a pair of tall wooden doors.
A slim man stood before them.
He wore light clothing suited to movement, with a thin Braavosi blade hanging from his hip. His posture appeared relaxed, but his eyes followed Bjorn's every step.
The Northern guide slowed.
Bjorn knew who the man was even before anyone spoke.
The First Sword of Braavos.
"We're here to see Lord Aldric," the guide said. "This man is—"
"Lord Aldric is not receiving visitors," the First Sword interrupted. "He is in an important meeting. Nobody is allowed to intervene."
"It will only take a moment."
"No." The First Sword coldly.
The Northern man frowned. "You don't understand....."
"I understand that you're asking me to allow an armed stranger into a guarded room during a private meeting."
"He isn't a stranger, he is ..." The guard tries but no matter what he didn't budge.
"He is to me." The man still rigid.
Bjorn stopped a few paces away, watching the exchange with quiet amusement.
"This man has come from the North to see Lord Aldric," the guide insisted. "Lord Alric will want to receive him."
"Many northern men come to Braavos and claim a connection to Lord Aldric," the First Sword replied. "Some claim to have served his father. Others say they're distant cousins, childhood companions or old friends from Winterfell. Most want coin. Some want access to the Sealord. No access to the room will be given. If you want to meet him take a proper process."
"This isn't some merchant begging for favour, he is ...."
"That is what you say."
The guide's face began to redden. Now even he started to get angry and rage. Northerners aren't especially known for thier patience."Stand aside."
The First Sword's hand settled upon his hilt.
"No."
The single word was enough to silence the Northern man and action enough to do the repeat the action.
Bjorn stepped forward. He didn't want to escalate further than it's already is.
"I don't mean Lord Aldric any harm," he said.
The First Sword turned his attention fully toward him.
"Men who mean harm rarely admit it before entering."
"A fair point, I guess" Bjorn asked
"Return another day. Request an appointment and give your name to the household. If Lord Aldric wishes to meet you, you'll be allowed through."
Bjorn looked at the closed doors.
"I crossed the Narrow Sea to see him. I am..."
" I don't care who you are, If you know him Then one more day will not kill you."
"No," Bjorn agreed. "But it might ruin the surprise."
The First Sword remained unmoved.
"Go back."
The man was simply doing his duty. Bjorn couldn't fault him so he didn't get angry.
If anything, Bjorn was pleased. His brother lived far from the North in a city built upon trade, secrets and hidden knives. Finding someone this cautious standing between Aldric and an unknown visitor was comforting.
Still, Bjorn had no intention of leaving.
The two men stared at each other.
When Bjorn took another small step, the First Sword drew his blade.
The thin steel came free without a sound. He did not attack, but held it ready at his side.
"It's my final warning, Go back and you can try to meet Lord Alric another day."
A quiet warning.
Bjorn stopped.
His own hand remained far from his weapon.
The Northern guide shifted uneasily beside him.
"You've made your point, but keep that weapon away before it becomes more than it needs to be." the guard said.
"Then leave."
Before Bjorn could answer, a voice came from behind them.
"Put the sword away." Waymar said with authority.
Waymar approached down the corridor, moving quickly. The faint amusement in his eyes was mixed with concern. But the authority still steeled in him.
The First Sword did not lower his blade.
"You know this man?"
"Better than most." Waymar stopped beside Bjorn. "This is Bjorn, eldest son of Artos Stark, A man everyone might now. And new Lord of Sea Dragon Point."
The First Sword looked at Bjorn again.
The change was immediate.
Waymar allowed the silence to hold before adding, "More importantly, he is Lord Aldric's elder brother."
The First Sword lowered his blade and returned it to its sheath.
"My apologies, Lord Bjorn." He inclined his head. "I didn't know your face."
"There's no need to apologise," Bjorn replied. "You did exactly what you were meant to do."
"You stopped an armed stranger from entering a guarded room." Bjorn glanced toward the doors. "I'm glad someone like you is protecting my brother. He is far from the North. It's good to know you take his safety seriously."
The First Sword studied Bjorn for another moment before giving a small nod.
"You may enter, My Lord. Though I should warn you, his meeting has not ended and I would need your sword here."
"Aye, take it.I'll try not to cause too much trouble."
Bjorn glanced toward Waymar. "Are you coming?"
"No. This is your surprise." Waymar gestured toward the doors. "Go on. I'll find you afterward."
Bjorn nodded and entered alone.
The conference room was long and bright, with tall windows looking over one of the canals.
Maps, ledgers and open contracts covered a great table in the centre.
Several Braavosi men sat around it, all dressed in fine dark clothing. Some wore rings on nearly every finger. Others carried the careful expressions of men who could judge the value of a ship before it even entered the harbour.
Aldric sat at the head of the table.
Bjorn stopped inside the doorway.
For a moment, he did not recognise his younger brother.
Aldric sat straight-backed, listening while an older merchant spoke. When the man finished, Aldric answered in fluent Braavosi, his voice calm and controlled.
Bjorn could not understand every word.
He understood the room.
The men around the table listened to Aldric. They did not humour him because of his age or because he was Artos Stark's son. They treated him like someone whose approval mattered.
One merchant interrupted.
Aldric allowed the man to finish. Then he looked at him in silence for several long moments before answering.
The merchant leaned back.
Bjorn almost smiled.
There was so much of their father in Aldric that it was unsettling.
The posture. The silence before an answer. The quiet certainty which forced other men to listen. Even the slight narrowing of his eyes when someone pushed too far.
Artos did it naturally. Bjorn doubted their father even realised when he had taken control of a room.
Aldric had to work at it.
The effort would have remained hidden from nearly everyone present. Bjorn only saw it in the slight tension across Aldric's shoulders and the care behind every pause.
He saw it because he knew them both.
And he was proud.
The door closed softly behind him.
Aldric looked toward the noise, his expression already showing annoyance at the interruption.
Who had dared come inside disturbing him and his meeting.
Then he saw Bjorn.
The words died in his mouth.
The calm young lord disappeared so quickly that two of the Braavosi exchanged confused looks.
"Bjorn?"
Bjorn smiled. "Good morrow, little brother."
Aldric stared at him for another heartbeat.
Then he pushed away from the table and crossed the room almost at a run.
Bjorn caught him in a tight embrace.
Aldric laughed, gripping the back of Bjorn's cloak as if he needed to make sure his brother was real.
"When did you arrive?" Aldric asked as soon as they separated. "Why didn't anyone tell me? How long have you been in Braavos? Does Sera know? Did Father send you? How long are you staying?"
Bjorn blinked at the flood of questions.
"Aldric."
"Did you sail directly from Westeros? How was the crossing? Where are your men? Does Grandfather know you're here?"
"Aldric."
"What?"
"I'm happy you're excited to see me," Bjorn said, laughing, "but calm down before you choke yourself."
Aldric stopped.
He drew a breath and looked over his shoulder.
Every man at the table was watching them.
His face changed almost immediately. The excited younger brother disappeared, and the controlled young lord returned. He straightened his clothes before walking back toward the table.
"My lords," Aldric said, "forgive the interruption. My elder brother has arrived from Westeros without warning."
One of the merchants smiled faintly. "We gathered as much."
"I would ask that we end our discussion here for today. We can continue the remaining matters tomorrow, if that is acceptable."
The men looked among themselves.
They were not pleased. Their time had value, and they clearly disliked having a meeting delayed for a family reunion.
Yet none appeared offended enough to challenge him.
An older Braavosi began gathering his papers.
"Family arriving from across the Narrow Sea is a reasonable cause for delay. Tomorrow, then."
"You have my thanks," Aldric said.
The men rose, offered their courtesies and left the room one by one. Several studied Bjorn as they passed, already judging the young lord they would soon be expected to trade with.
Bjorn waited until the doors closed.
Aldric's formal posture collapsed again.
"You truly told no one?"
"Waymar and Lord Valen knew."
"Grandfather kept it from me?"
Bjorn nodded"Aye, it seems that way."
Aldric shook his head.
Bjorn gripped his shoulder.
"You handled those men well. I remember Father seeing that. "
Aldric's expression became uncertain.
Bjorn smiled. "You reminded me of Father."
Aldric went still.
"Truly?"
"Aye. You had the whole room waiting for your answer."
Quiet pride entered Aldric's face before he managed to hide it.
"Father never has to think about it," he said. "He walks into a room already believing it belongs to him. He is a man with natural authority but you don't have natural authority but a authority that you have been inspired by."
"Aye."
"That doesn't make it less impressive." Bjorn squeezed his shoulder. "If anything, it makes it more impressive."
Aldric looked away, but not before Bjorn saw the smile.
"Come," Aldric said. "Sera will murder half the palace if she learns we kept you from her."
Bjorn laughed at that " Then go and meet her."
They found Sera in a garden overlooking the canal.
She sat beneath a tree with a book open across her lap, arguing with one of her attendants about something neither appeared willing to surrender.
Aldric stopped beneath the archway.
"Sera."
She looked up. "What?"
"I found something."
"If it's another contract, or meeting with another Lord, i don't want to."
"Its not that ."
Bjorn stepped out from behind.
Sera froze.
Her book slipped from her lap and landed open upon the stones.
For a moment, she only stared.
Then she screamed.
"BJORN! BROTHER!"
She ran across the garden without caring who watched. Bjorn barely had time to brace before she crashed into him and wrapped both arms around his waist.
He lifted her from the ground and held her.
Sera laughed and cried at the same time, striking his chest between embraces as though unable to decide whether to welcome him or punish him.
"You didn't tell me!"
"That would have ruined the surprise."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
"NO,I do."
She buried her face against his chest and held him harder.
Aldric stood nearby, smiling.
Bjorn rested one hand against the back of Sera's head.
She had grown since he last saw her, but she still felt painfully small in his arms.
"I missed you too," he said quietly.
"You should have come sooner, I missed you especially after Father ..."
The words carried more pain than anger.
Bjorn's smile faded.
"He wanted to," he said. "But he couldn't leave King's Landing."
"He always has something he cannot leave."
Aldric looked away.
Bjorn lowered Sera carefully to the ground but kept his hands upon her shoulders.
"He misses you," Bjorn said. "Both of you. More than he'll ever say properly."
Sera still silent at that.
Sera tried to remain angry, but the attempt failed. She embraced Bjorn again.
A servant appeared beneath the archway and bowed.
"My lords. My lady. The Sealord asks that Lord Bjorn attend him in his solar."
Bjorn glanced at Aldric.
"Grandfather already waited while you interrupted my meeting," Aldric said. "You shouldn't make him wait longer."
Sera took Bjorn's hand. "We'll come with you."
Bjorn hesitated before nodding.
Lord Valen stood beside the windows when they entered his solar.
The Sealord turned from the canals and looked at the three of them together—Aldric composed once more, Sera still holding Bjorn's hand, and Bjorn suddenly less certain than he had been before the First Sword.
"Lord Valen," Bjorn said, inclining his head.
"Forgive me for failing to present myself when I arrived."
Valen studied him.
"No need my boy. I know enough about Starks and their love for their pack "
"Aye." Bjorn smiled
"But it's still A poor beginning."
Bjorn bowed his head slightly. "It was. That's why I am here to resolve it My Lord."
Valen allowed the silence to remain for a second.
Then his mouth curved.
"A mistake But not an unforgivable one."
Sera smiled. Aldric looked unsurprised.
Bjorn raised his eyes.
Lord Valen approached slowly.
"You've have certainly become a capable Lord," the old man said. "The boy Seraphine described in her letters was still smaller."
Bjorn's expression shifted at the mention of her.
"She wrote about me?"
"Often. More often than you might think."
Bjorn did not know what to say.
Valen looked at Sera's hand still wrapped around Bjorn's, then at Aldric standing close beside him.
"You called me Lord Valen."
Bjorn stiffened slightly. "I didn't wish to presume."
"No. I expect you didn't."
The Sealord understood the matter without needing it explained.
Bjorn was Artos's eldest son, but not Seraphine's. No Valen blood ran through him. He had no claim to the old man except through the people they both loved.
Yet Aldric and Sera did not look at Bjorn and see half a brother. Artos had never treated his eldest as something separate from the children who followed.
Seraphine's letters had never done so either.
"You are not my blood," Valen said plainly.
Sera's fingers tightened around Bjorn's hand.
"But blood is not the only thing from which a family can be made. You are Artos's son. A man i came to love as my son.You're the elder brother of my grandchildren. My daughter wrote of you with love." Valen held his gaze. "That gives us something, if you wish to claim it. If you wish to , that is. "
Bjorn swallowed at that. Still confused on how to answer that.
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