Chapter Twenty: Ned

The reluctance Ned feels to meet with his friend during his short trip home to the city is not a familiar feeling he associates with Robert, and he regrets not for the first time that their professional relationship has begun to come between their personal one after all these years. He knows Robert will inevitably mention the Baratheon contract, the elephant in the room, and Ned will be forced to yet again state his dissatisfaction with the reports on the technology. His concerns weren't met with any kind of levelheaded response from Robert the last time they came up, and he doesn't imagine that will change should the topic be brought up again. He'd much rather spend the day with his wife, who is busy downstairs working on a clothing drive for one of her charities, a project Sansa has been helping her with in the evenings after she gets home from her internship.

It might not be precisely where he'd prefer to be at the moment, but he pulls Robert into a one armed hug and submits to the usual heavy back thumping his friend delivers, as Robert enters his home office and immediately asks what Ned has in the way of something to drink.

"What did you have in mind?"

"Something good and stiff."

Ned glances at the clock. Only quarter after two in the afternoon. Not typically a time when he grabs for a drink.

"I might have some bourbon tucked away somewhere."

"That'll do," Robert says, easing himself onto the sofa that is hardly ever sat in, although Rickon has been known to jump atop it, when Ned is trying to finish up some work in the evening.

The throw pillows Cat picked out to match the green of the wall paint don't leave enough room against the back of the sofa for Robert's ever increasing size, and he pulls one from behind his back and chucks it onto the chair opposite Ned's desk just as Ned finds the mostly empty bourbon in his crowded shelves out of direct sunlight and pulls out the glass stopper. It's good bourbon, a gift from a few years back from Rod Cassel. Robert's office is much better stocked with booze from what Ned's seen, but Ned has never felt comfortable mixing business with intoxication, unless it was strictly expected of him at the time. Times such as these.

"Best pour one for yourself too," Robert adds.

"Is it going to be one of those types of talks?" Ned asks, as he grabs for two cut glass tumblers placed on a silver tray beside the small assortment of liquors.

He might not regularly partake, but Cat has the room stocked for such an occasion, just as she sees to all the other little comforts in his life. No one could ask for a better wife.

"It isn't social to sit there sober as a judge, Ned. Makes a man nervous."

Ned pours two fingers into one glass, four into the other. Hopefully neither of them will actually need the full pour. Robert seems jovial enough, and while Ned isn't entirely convinced this is a friendly call, he wants to believe that they're going to put their recent unpleasantness behind them and get back on solid footing. Ned can't compromise on the issue of the government bid, but he also doesn't want to lose his friend.

"Cat looked good," Robert says, as he reaches for the proffered glass. "Is she doing better?"

Better is relative. Coping is probably a more accurate term for what they've all learned to do since Robb's death, but Ned doesn't really want to get into the particulars with his friend, not when even the subject of their respective families is suddenly not so safe a topic.

Cat increasingly feels Cersei is working against them here in the city, poisoning the water amongst friends and acquaintances alike, undermining them for some unknown purpose. She got the idea from her sister, Lysa, a woman whose opinion Ned can't put too much stock in, but Cat seems convinced after more than one heated phone call from her sister on the matter. What is clear is that Ned and Cat are not getting invitations to the places they once were welcome, although he isn't ready to blame Cersei for it quite yet. So he gives another nod as he pulls his desk chair around to face Robert, the felt circles on the legs muting the sound of wood on tile, and lifts his glass to him in an attempt to end that line of discussion before it starts. They both take a sip—Robert's decidedly more of a swig.

"And the kids?"

"Good. Busy with their summer activities. You know how that goes."

He's been home almost a week and barely sees any of them outside of sitting around the family dinner table, where Arya's headphones and Bran's comics have been banished over time with a return to something like normalcy. It's not a bad thing that they're busy: Ned's glad to see it after the quiet desolation that hung over the house this time last year. He only wishes Jon would find something to occupy his time too, but he still spends most of his time in seclusion. It's good that Sansa has her internship and is so obviously thriving, but without her around, Jon's spending too much time alone again. Cat seems relieved, but it was nice to see the two of them developing a bond.

"Cersei handles all that."

Cat handles much of it too, since Ned can't be home as much as he'd like, being always away in Washington, but Robert's lack of involvement goes beyond what Ned would consider acceptable in a parent. Robert's boy needs someone to model himself on, so he doesn't turn out as badly as that eldest son of Cersei's. Their daughter has never shared any of the details with either him or Cat, but Sansa breaking up with that insufferable boy was one of the few good things that happened to them last year. She deserves much better. A nice boy would be a good start.

"Speaking of which," Robert says, pausing to scratch at his beard. "We both know why I'm here. Cersei's been after me. I told her to mind her own business, but she's never been any good at that. A right pain in my ass."

Ned's face twitches and he shifts in his chair to cover his obvious discomfort. He hates the way Robert speaks about his wife. Ned can only imagine that she's not the easiest woman to live with, but Robert married her and no one should speak that way about their wife. It is totally disrespectful.

"Actually, you'll have to fill me in. What can I do for you?"

This could be an opening to speak about whatever it is Cat suspects is going on with Cersei amongst their friends or it could have to do with the government contract. Either way, Ned's gut clenches at the prospect of speaking about it here in his home, which he likes to keep as free of politics of any kind as possible.

"I'm glad you've put it that way. There is something you can do for me. It's the government contract. We've always seen eye to eye on this business, and I'm stumped as to why the hell that's changed now."

"It's as I've told you before," Ned begins, but Robert cuts him off with a swat of his large hand.

"Let's cut the crap."

Ned wants to say that he's been nothing but upfront with his friend already, but instead he sets down the mostly untouched glass of bourbon down on his desk and clears his throat. "Go ahead. Let's have it out."

"Cersei thinks you've been listening to the wrong people. I'd hate to think that after everything you and I have been through together, you'd do something like that, listen to small minded, jealous assholes."

Robert would no doubt think Tyrion the worst possible person to discuss his business with, since Robert has little love for the Lannisters, despite the fact that they are major investors in his company and therefore his lifestyle. Ned doesn't care much for any of them either and it must be unpleasant to always have them hovering around thanks to Cersei's continued interaction with her ex's family, but Tyrion was right on this count. That's what matters.

"Man to man. You'd tell me if that prick, Tyrion Lannister, was whispering bullshit in your ear, wouldn't you?"

Ned is momentarily struck dumb. Yes, it was Tyrion who initially put the notion in his head that the tech was bad with his well timed phone call, and if rumors are to be believed, Tyrion might have had personal reasons to place that phone call. Still, Ned did his own legwork and came to his own conclusions. It's not as if he let Tyrion's opinion determine his course of action. He was determined to be fair about whether or not to support the bid, not only because he didn't want to do his friend a bad turn, but for the sake of the people he represented too. Anything he supports is equally well vetted. The tech didn't stack up and he couldn't in good conscience support the Baratheon bid. It was as simple as that, even if personally inconvenient. Ned isn't ready to put his friendship with Robert ahead of his principles.

"Cersei swears that's what's been going on, Ned. I've defended you to her, you know, even though you haven't stuck by me with this government bid."

"I did what I had to. I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry? Is that it?"

"I don't know what else to say," Ned admits. "It wasn't meant to be personal."

Robert makes a grumbling noise as he stares down into his glass. "Don't be so damned naïve. Business, politics, it's all personal. I'm just asking you for the chance to set you straight and a little heads up on whether I've got a wolf in sheep's clothing lurking around my business. I'm asking for the truth."

"You've gotten nothing but from me."

The Lannisters very well might be undermining Robert. Ned hopes for Robert's sake that's not the case—he's as wary of being on the wrong side of the Lannisters as Robert must be—but he has no inside knowledge of it besides the phone call from the youngest member of that family, which could have been an act of altruism for all Ned knows. He's not going to throw Tyrion under the bus without further indication there was mal intention on his part.

"Faulty tech, bullshit reports, safety concerns," Robert says, placing one hand on his side. "Does that mean you're not going to tell me whether or not I need to be worried about these God damned Lannisters? I thought I could count on you."

"You can, which is why I read the reports. That was more than enough for me to make my recommendation. It wouldn't look good for your name to be attached to bad technology like that. I know you don't want that."

Robert takes another huge swallow of bourbon before gesturing with the glass, thrusting it out in front of him, almost sending the amber liquid sloshing out onto the marble tile floor. "My people assure me that this tech is not only good, but will protect our soldiers' lives. Just the kind of thing you and I can appreciate, Ned."

That would be the sort of technology Ned would appreciate and happily support for a government contract. Solid military tech that protects soldiers without endangering innocent civilians is good tech, but the reports didn't show that kind of potential at all. Quite the opposite.

His hands grip the wooden arms of his chair a little more tightly."You might be the one listening to the wrong people." In fact, Ned is almost certain that's the case. If Robert only knew the truth, he wouldn't be pushing this tech on Ned or the US government or US troops. He refuses to believe anything else of his friend. Robert's not the kind of man who would take the possibility of killing innocents lightly. At least, not the Robert he thought he knew. "The reports I read were less than satisfactory, and I'd be happy to discuss it with you if that's what you want to do. If you knew better what's going on, you might be able to salvage what you've got there and make something truly exceptional from it. We can hammer out a plan together."

"An afternoon hashing out outdated tech reports isn't necessary. I have people that take care of those kinds of details. They know what's best, so I leave it to them."

"I say this as a friend, Robert. There were things in those documents which indicated a real lack of concern for safety. It all looked rushed, and you know this isn't the kind of thing you can rush."

"Don't bore me with the gory details again. It's my company, and I'm telling you the technology is ready to go. It's even further along than it was a few months ago. I'm going to sell this to someone and it should be our government."

Ned can tell by Robert's steely glare that he wants Ned to bend, the way he might have done when they were in college together, but this about deciding whether or not they should get another keg of Busch Light for the Saturday night party and Ned finds himself erring on the side of caution, while Robert wants to go big. This is a matter of life and death.

"I don't think we're going to see eye to eye on this matter, Robert. It's probably something we will just need to agree to disagree on, so we can move on. If the tech has improved like you say, we can address the bid again after I get a look at new reports, but that's all I can offer you."

It's disturbing to think Robert is determined to push forward with this subpar, dangerous technology, but Ned can do very little to stop him, when he's already refused his political support. He can only hope Robert's trust in his advisors isn't entirely misplaced and that improvements are truly being made, so that the tech ends up doing no harm in the hands of whoever buys it.

Robert taps his glass on his knee three times, watching him intently. "It wouldn't just be good for the military. It'd be a good thing for your family too."

The mention of Ned's family makes him bristle, and his shoulders straighten in the back of the chair. Why'd Robert have to bring his family up? It smacks too much of a threat with Cat's warning from earlier echoing in his mind for Ned to let it go without comment.

Be careful what you say to him today. Lysa swears they're after all of us. She got a call from Petyr and he said he heard something about it all the way in Boston. In Boston, Ned. Why would they be talking about us in Boston? Trying to assassinate our characters like that?

He brushed it off. Because some people have nothing better to do. That's what he's been doing for weeks, brushing off Lysa's harried communiqués as the paranoia of an overly active imagination. He urged Cat to go on as if nothing is amiss and wait out this strange lull in their social calendar. He told her to ignore the odd looks she swears she's been getting at various events. But he could be wrong about it all being a coincidence. There could be more to this, something sinister and deliberate stemming from Cersei and the rejection of the Baratheon bid. It certainly wouldn't be the first time Cat was right. In which case, he really does need to be mindful of what he says about his family around Robert. The less ammo he unintentionally gives Cersei through Robert, the better.

"Let's not bring our families into this."

Even if no threat to his family is intended by Robert's remark, Ned has never been in politics so as to advance himself. Politics have been good to his family, if you consider life here in the city to be a step up from their quieter life in Michigan, which Ned can't say he does, but material and social advancement wasn't why he pursued this life. He views public service as his sworn duty. Always has. The implication that he might support the tech, so as to continue to benefit from the advantages his family currently enjoys doesn't sit well with him.

"And why is that?" Robert asks, leaning forward to place his glass alongside Ned's abandoned one. "A rather odd distinction to make, when your decision to withhold your support for the Baratheon bid has affected my family. We needed the money that contract would bring in. Not just the company, my family needed it."

Ned's shocked Robert would admit such a thing, but maybe it's gotten bad enough that he has no choice.

"I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm sure you'll find other avenues. Baratheon Industries is more than viable."

"Don't be smug, dammit. I'm hardly in the mood."

Ned frowns. Smug isn't what he's feeling at all. Corned in his own home is more like it.

"From what Cersei tells me, you best look to your own family."

"That's enough now."

More than enough to tell him there is something to what Lysa has told Cat.

"I only thought I'd mention it as a friend," Robert says, pushing to his feet, and his tone, dripping with scorn, betrays how little he thinks of Ned's own friendly advice, "before I leave."

And not a minute too soon, since Ned feels as if a few more choice words out of Robert's mouth and he'd be forced to throw him out. Not a scene he wants to foster in his house. If something is afoot with Cersei, surely that kind of antagonistic gesture would be just the thing to fuel her vendetta.

"You think my company isn't in order?"

"I don't know anything about the state of your company. I've only said what I felt I needed to about the bid, nothing more."

Robert stops at the door of the office, spreading his weight over both widespread legs in an imitation of the once youthful, broad power of his body. "People are talking about those perfect kids of yours. Keep your own house in order."

Notes: Next up, Tyrion at Jaime's apartment...