Eddard watches his wife lying on their bed peacefully, her golden curves framing her perfect angular face. She is the most beautiful woman he had ever met. She deserves better, the thought never leaves his mind from the day they met. But he loves her, and she loved him.
Cersei Lannister, the light of the west. She remained unattached throughout her teenage years, presumably because Lord Tywin aimed for her to marry Prince Rhaegar. It should not concern Eddard, for he was only a lowly second son, destined to marry a northwoman and eventually be a loyal bannerman of his brother.
Harrenhal. It always comes back to Harrenhal. In this cursed tourney Lyanna met the prince, and Eddard saw Cersei, sneaking out from Casterly Rock in hopes of meeting her brother.
Instead, she found Eddard, and Eddard found her. The golden maid, her emerald eyes full of frustration and disappointment, the pride of the lioness wound. Eddard didn't know what she felt she was cheated out of by then, but he had cheered her up.
...He had, hadn't he? He hesitated at first, but the vivid memories of Brandon dancing with Ashara pushed him. He didn't want anyone else to take this opportunity from him, not anymore.
Cersei didn't take kindly to him at first, he could see it in the way her lips twitched. I'm looking for the king's newest kingsguard, she had crossed her arms when she said that, her eyes moving up and down between his face and the direwolf pin on his clothes, do you know where he is, Stark?
He explained to her that Jaime Lannister didn't come to the tourney, and her lips pursed, her brows knitted, her eyes burned like two pots of wildfire— he would see those latter when they took King's Landing from the mad king— and Eddard, driven by that slight, promised to accompany her throughout the tourney, to make her journey worthwhile.
Eddard smiled fondly at the memories. Her laughter rang like bells in the flower field, her hair fluctuating wildly in the wind as they danced. Eddard is known to be cold, but he felt as if the lioness had brought out a side of him that he never knew existed. He smiled, more than Robert had ever made him. More than his family, more than anyone.
Yet it was because of Eddard only having his eyes on Cersei, that Lyanna was seduced. Charmed. Taken away by the dragon prince when he called for her, like a moth to the flames.
And so Father died, Brandon died, and Cersei's brother died as well, all by the hands of the mad king. The realm save for Dorne and the Reach rose against the dragons, and so they were put down, and Robert was made king, Lyanna queen.
Lord Tywin was secretly hoping for Lyanna to be dead, that was clear to everyone, and when she returned unharmed Tywin demanded to be rewarded. But Robert has nothing to give him, and as he had disclosed to Eddard, he didn't want to. They both remembered what Tywin had wanted to do to those children.
He doesn't remember whether he or Robert raised the idea of the match. Perhaps Eddard had told him about his affection towards Cersei, and Robert pushed for it. Or perhaps the wine made him brave enough to suggest it. Either way, the next day Lord Tywin grudgingly gave his consent, and she was his.
Eddard struggles to remember. She must have been happy, right? They have spent time before the marriage, exchanging innocent words, and there was light in her eyes when he talked of their future. She had planned for the wedding, from the food to the dress to what songs should the bard sing. No Rain of Castamere on my wedding, she had said with a smirk.
She was happy. They were happy. They should always be happy, together. Eddard slowly put a hand on her cheeks. Cersei does not stir.
She has come clean about her past. As horrible as her relationship with her twin was, Jaime Lannister was dead. Perhaps Eddard should have done so too, right from the start. Maybe he should convince Lyanna to tell Robert the truth.
If he had done so, there wouldn't be two corpses in Winterfell today. One of his wife, and one of the nephew he has sworn to protect.
Yet Eddard could only weep silently as he feels the warmth in Cersei's body fades. She killed Jon because she loved him, and it was because she loved him that when Eddard confronted her she told him of her forbidden relationship with her twin. But it doesn't matter now. All that's left is to accompany her, and make sure Winterfell will be left in the better hands of Benjen, who will never repeat his mistakes.