Once Ned had forced such thick, difficult words from his throat, he had settled back into the bed, his head on the pillow, eyes drifting shut. There is no threat of him falling asleep, his skin and body far too hot and uncomfortable to do so entirely. It's more to give himself a chance to gather his thoughts again, and to allow his words to settle into Robb's. He knows that hearing such candid talk from his father is jarring, especially after a lifetime of silence.

When his son's voice again fills the room, Ned opens his eyes and lets them search out Robb's face. He lays in quiet admiration of how strong the Tully side of his lineage has come through, strengthening over time. He cannot help but wonder if the eldest son and daughter had stolen all the copper for their hair, leaving only the Stark darkness behind for the rest who followed. The weathered lines of his face soften at Robb's words, his lips tugging ever so slightly into something like a smile.

"Old Gods be good, you are speaking truth and whatever this is will leave my body. But I could not risk letting all these things being buried again, in the event they see fit to close the book of my life." Permanently, this time.