Ned's (POV)
"Ned!" A boisterous voice roared out as Eddard slipped into the Great Hall in the Red Keep.
Robert Baratheon, red-faced and grinning, stood up from his chair and raised his goblet in Ned's general direction, surreptitiously dumping a serving wench off of his lap and to the floor. Deep red wine sloshed over the edges of the cup and ran down the King's hand, splashing on the high table and likely staining the white linen tablecloth that covered the bare wood.
'What a waste,' he idly thought to himself. Linen fetched a high price in the North.
"You're still pale as ever, Ned," Robert called out with a deep, booming laugh, catching the attention of the entire hall. "Did you even make it to that sun-blasted wasteland?"
"I did," Ned replied, his voice calm despite the sorrow he still carried.
"Well?" Robert demanded, an expectant look on his face. The entire hall went quiet, every person in attention watching and listening with rapt attention. "Did you find her?"
Ned paused for a long moment, and examined his childhood friend. 'Is this… is this what Lyanna saw in him?' he wondered. 'Deep in his cups with a comely lowborn maid in his lap? It's no wonder she was so reluctant to marry him…'
Ned had been in the throne room when Tywin Lannister had presented the dead bodies of Princess Elia and her children to Robert. The way his old friend had reacted, the cold dismissal of the murder of innocents and the savage grin he'd worn as he stared at the mutilated bodies, had seriously shaken Ned's faith in their friendship. The boisterous but good-natured young man he'd grown up with in the Vale, under the guardianship of Jon Arryn, wouldn't have done that. The Robert he knew wouldn't have been so pleased at the murder of babes and toddlers, no matter their parentage.
The argument he'd had with Robert after that had nearly destroyed their friendship. Even now, staring at the way his friend behaved, Ned wondered if Robert Baratheon was still the same man he'd once known. By the look of things… he doubted it. 'Perhaps this is who he was all along,' Ned thought, his mind full of doubt.
Shaking off his musings, Ned solemnly bowed and shook his head side to side.
"She was dead when I found her," he lied. In truth, Lyanna hadn't passed until several hours after he'd arrived at the Tower of Joy. She'd survived long enough to give birth to her son, and to name him, and to tell Ned what had really happened… But Ned couldn't tell any of that to Robert; after the way his… friend… had rejoiced over the murder of Princess Elia and her children, Ned feared what he would do if he found out about Lyanna's son.
'Rhaegar's son,' Ned reminded himself.
Robert froze for a long moment, staring at Ned. A cough from somewhere in the crowd broke the moment, though, prompting Robert to drain his goblet and let himself drop into his chair with a heavy, pained sigh.
"Was she… did she…"
"She died of a fever," Ned answered Robert's half-formed question, the partial truth falling easily from his lips. "Her bones have been prepared by the Silent Sisters; I will bring them to my family's crypt in Winterfell."
Robert was silent for a long moment. The entire hall was silent, tensely waiting for the King's reaction.
"I would like to pay my respects," Robert stated, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. The hardness in Ned's heart softened a bit.
"Tomorrow," Ned agreed with a solemn nod. "For tonight, I need some rest, and a drink."
A hint of Robert's usual boisterousness crept back into him. He turned to a nearby serving girl (the same one he had dumped on the floor minutes earlier, Ned noted) and demanded, "A chair for my friend, and a goblet of wine!"
"Yes, your Grace," she replied before scurrying off.
"Jon wants me to marry the Old Lion's daughter," Robert said as Ned was being seated. "Since Lyanna…"
Ned nodded with a pained grimace. The loss was still too fresh to be casually reminded of it.
"What do you think?" Robert asked him.
Ned considered it for a long moment as he filled his plate with the rich, succulent foods so common here in the South. On one hand, his sister had been dead for less than a moon's turn. For a man that claimed to love his sister so much, how could Robert speak of marrying another woman so soon? And yet… as King, one of his duties was to secure the line of succession.
"It makes sense," Ned reluctantly admitted. "The North, the Riverlands, and the Vale are tied by marriage, and our alliance put you on the Iron Throne. Bringing the Lannisters into the fold would secure your reign…"
"Aye, it would," Robert agreed. "Cersei is a beautiful woman, or so they say. I could do worse for a wife."
"Aye, you could," Ned neutrally replied. 'Not better than Lyanna,' he dismissively thought, if only in the privacy of his own mind. 'Then again, Lyanna would rather run away with a married man and start a war than marry you…'
"But speaking of wives, have you heard what yours has been up to?" Robert asked, his joviality coming back to the surface.
"I can't say I have," Ned replied, feeling a bit of trepidation. "I was on the move too frequently to receive ravens from her. The most recent news I have is of the birth of my son, some moons ago. What have you heard?"
"She's an industrious one," Robert answered with a chuckle. "While you were gone, she went and created a weaving workshop right there in Winterfell. Ships from White Harbor loaded with your wife's wool cloth have been selling it all up and down the coast. By all accounts, it would seem she's making you a very wealthy man!"
"What?" Ned asked, dumbstruck.
"The Seven only know how she's done it; rumors say her workers can do a sennight's worth of weaving in a single day," Robert continued with a chuckle. "And that's just the cloth; you should hear the way the noble ladies are fawning over her skin cream!"
"Skin cream?" Ned asked, bewildered.
"Some strange concoction she's making up North," Robert answered with a dismissive wave of his hands. "Smells like flowers and drives the ladies to madness. Costs a pretty penny, too!"
Ned sat in silence, completely bewildered by the tales he was hearing. Seeing the dumbstruck look on his face, Robert laughed and slapped his friend on the shoulder.
"Don't worry too much about it, Ned!" The King guffawed. "The Seven know the North could use the coin!"
"Aye…" Ned hesitantly replied. "I suppose we could…"
He stayed in the Red Keep for three days, letting his men rest and the King pay his respects to Lyanna. Afterwards, the two had drowned their mutual sorrow in wine, and if their friendship wasn't fully repaired, well, it was at least bandaged over. Ned hoped that, in time, Robert would grow into his role as King and take his duties more seriously, in much the same way that Ned had to become Lord Paramount of the North.