Ned limped along the corridor towards Robert's rooms, his steps weighed heavy with trepidation. The King had returned from the hunt, and he must be told.

"...feasting tonight!" he heard as he pushed open the door to Robert's solar. Robert's tone was full of hearty cheer; the hunt had obviously been successful. "Crackling skin, a crisp roast apple in his mouth, and- Ned! I hope you're hungry for pork!"

"Your Grace." Ned nodded in greeting, armouring himself in formality. Robert was seated at the heavy oak table; Boros Blount stood to one side, doing a poor job of concealing his boredom.

"Well, what do you want?" Robert demanded. "We've only just returned home. Surely the kingdom can wait, at least until I've had a drink."

"Your Grace, I must speak with you. Alone."

Robert raised an eyebrow. "As you wish. Blount, get out of here." The knight saluted and withdrew, and Robert waved Ned to a seat across from him.

Ned was silent for a moment, wondering where to begin. Finally, Robert's patience ran out. "Well, spit it out, man!"

"Your Grace... I wish that I were not the one to tell you this, but someone must. Cersei has been unfaithful, and-"

Ned was startled by Robert's sudden boom of laughter. "Is that all? Gods, by the dour look on your face, I thought you were here to tell me of the Doom of Westeros, if not the end of the world!"

"Your-"

"Don't 'your grace' me, you know I hate it. And don't worry so much." Robert's face hardened. "She won't do it again, I'll see to that. Now, come down to the kitchens and see the rewards of my hunt!"

Ned blinked, then took a deep breath. "No, your Grace, you don't understand. Cersei has been unfaithful... with her brother." Across from him, Robert suddenly stilled.

"They have been sleeping together for some time," Ned pressed on - better to get it over with all at once, "and the children... the children are not yours. They are Jaime's, born of incest. She admitted as much to me, and-"

"What!" Robert's furious roar drove Ned to silence. The king stood suddenly, fists slamming the table with an audible crack. "Seven fucking, buggering hells and a plague of Others besides! She... and him... How dare she? How dare they? Get them in here, right now! Send for Ilyn Payne. The children, too! Go!"

Robert's face was rapidly purpling, his breathing heavy and uneven. For a moment, Ned wondered if the man was going to have an apoplexy and expire right in front of him.

"You're not moving," Robert ground out, seeing Ned's hesistation. "Get them in here, now."

"Your Grace..." Ned spoke slowly, hoping to find the words that would keep the situation from boiling over. "Robert, you must not do this."

Robert stared at him incredulously. "No one tells me what to do! I am the king!"

"You are the king," Ned agreed, "and your responsibility is to the realm. You must act wisely."

"Wise? I'll tell you what's wise! I'm going to cut off Jaime Lannister's prick and feed it to him! Then I'll cut those incestuous hellspawn into pieces and send them back to Casterly Rock. As for Cersei, that treacherous whore, that lying, rutting cunt-"

Robert strode towards the door, and Ned made haste to interpose himself between them. "Robert, think!" he said desperately. "The crown is millions in debt to Tywin Lannister. How will he react if you murder his family? And the children? You loved them, Tommen, Myrcella, even Joffrey. They are innocent of their parents' crimes. Can you look into Tommen's eyes and tell him that he must die?"

Robert raised clenched fists, and Ned braced himself for a blow. They stood for a moment in frozen tableau, then Robert growled low in his throat and dropped his hands. "What would you have me do? I suppose you would just carry on as normal, for the good of the realm." He spat the last words as though they were poison.

Ned sighed. "I told Cersei to take the children and flee across the ocean. With luck, they have already gone, and you will never see them again. Strip Jaime of his white cloak and his titles, and send him back to Casterly Rock under Tywin's supervision, to marry and eventually inherit. And you must do the same - the kingdom needs an heir."

"Seven hells," Robert muttered, his face dark. "Damn the Lannisters, and damn being king. I should never have accepted the crown you forced on me."

"But you did." Ned pressed on, inexorable. "You did, and now you must act as a king, for the realm and the people of Westeros."

"The realm!" Robert spat. Suddenly all the fury seemed to drain from him. "Gods, Ned," he whispered hoarsely, "Cersei... Lyanna... How did it come to this? This isn't how it was supposed to be."

And Ned, reaching out to grasp his friend's arm in a small gesture of useless comfort, couldn't help but agree.