The Red Keep, King's Landing, The Crownlands

Outside of the throne room in the Red Keep, Eddard Stark waits with his hands clasped in front of his body. The clenching of one hand is the only sign of his discomfort. He would much rather meet Robert in his study, or a tavern, or anywhere other than this gods damned throne room. Anywhere else, so long as he never has to see that scorch-marked floor or the steps where Tywin Lannister's pets had thrown the corpses of the little prince and princess ever again.

He may love the new king like a brother, but even Ned can admit that courtesy is not his strong suit. Or even kindness. Understanding, perhaps, was out as well. Ned muses, maybe while he sang Robert's praises, Lyanna saw the truth of him and fled. The realm saw the truth of him and plotted.

Arthur saw the truth of him and sneered. He saw the truth of Ned himself, too, and raged. He saw the truth of Lyanna, he must have to break a solemn oath to the gods. To kill someone he has lived and ate and fought with for so many years. To devote himself to a dead woman's son. To condemn himself to a life away from his true family, to surely be hated by those he once called friend, to be forever grouped with Lannister's oathbreaker of a son. To spend the rest of his days living a lie.

Arthur, Ned realizes, must have come to love Lyanna fiercely in their time together. Fiercely and deeply, to agree to raise another man's son, betray his oath to the gods and his own sworn brothers, and shame himself in front of the entire realm. And to call the boy Ashara's.

Would Robert have done the same for Lyanna? If he knew of the babe's true father, would his love for Lyanna stay his hand? Or would he turn his back and allow Tywin Lannister's rabid dogs to murder yet another child? Would he laugh again at the sight of Lyanna's babe with his head bashed in, if he knew that child to be half Targaryen? But surely, Ned thinks, Robert loved Lyanna to go to war for her and even now he loves her still. Arthur's voice drifts from the dark of his mind.

Arthur whispers, voice uncomfortably soft in Ned's mind, "Is his love for a dead woman enough to overcome his bloodlust for 'Dragonspawn'?" The words curl and drift through his thoughts, decimating all of Ned's poorly considered plans.

Can Ned truly risk Jon's life on Robert's devotion? Robert who, though Ned love's the man like his own blood, already has three bastards that Ned knows of. Bastards that Robert hasn't bothered to meet.

Perhaps if Robert just saw the boy first. Jon's resemblance to Lyanna is remarkable. He has her hair, a brown so deep it almost appears black. And Flint curls from Ned's own grandmother Arya. But Ned knows that even if he could guarantee Robert's reaction, Arthur would sooner kill them both than let him bring Robert anywhere near Jon.

Perhaps Arthur's rage is not for Ned, not truly, but for his own loss. And for the same fear that Ned himself feels, for Jon's life. For Jon, Arthur will ruin himself in the eyes of the realm and the gods. For a boy that isn't even his blood, Arthur would risk his life. What must he think of me, Ned thinks, that he would die for Jon and yet I waver? That question shocks him. Why is he debating over this decision, when he knows that Arthur is guaranteed to protect Jon? Is he really willing to risk his only nephew on the possibility of Robert's love? Arthur will defy all the gods to protect Jon. In this moment, Ned knows he must do the same.

Resolved, Ned thinks, for Jon. He would even lie to the gods themselves, if he must.

"He is my son," Ned whispers to himself, voice wavering at the lie. Behind him, the great doors leading to the throne room open and he is announced. He readies himself for the show, not to protect his reckless sister, but for the dark haired boy at the inn, too young know that he should be afraid. He repeats, still at whisper, but voice certain. "He is my son, Jon Snow."