The Targaryen Princess

XVI

Natari's POV:

"No, Ned," I say with a sigh. "You must maintain a certain image, an image without weakness or sympathy. As hard as it is, you must become someone other than yourself."

"So lie!?" Ned yells, clearly frustrated.

"Yes!" I return with my own frustration now evident.

"Where is the honor in that!?" Ned replies. I look down and massage the bridge of my nose. We have been at this since I got back yesterday. Every moment he wasn't busy readying Winterfell for Robert's visit, Ned was with me, preparing for King's Landing. It has not been easy, and he has not gotten over this part yet. I expected this and release a heavy sigh. It is impossible for Eddard Stark to renounce his honor.

"Ned," I address softly, "where you are going, no on cares. They would betray their closest friends if it provided the slightest advancement."

"I know, Nat," Ned resigns slowly.

"No, you don't understand," I push. "There is no honorable option here. You either play the game or die. Life or death: that is what we are talking about." Ned doesn't offer a reply; instead, he just looks at me with love in his eyes. Before anything else can be said, someone knocks on the door.

"Enter," Ned says, and Robb opens it without stepping in. We catch each other's glances, and I quickly get lost in his eyes. After a moment, Ned gets impatient. "Yes, Robb?" This startles us from our stupor.

"Pardon the interruption, but we have received word of the King's arrival. He will be at Winterfell in less then an hour," he informs him. "Mother has asked that we all make pains to look 'presentable' as she put." Ned laughs at his wife's antics.

"Yes, quite right," he answers, still grinning. I stand up and walk to the door where Robb waits for me. I look back and see Ned in the same spot and having dropped his smile, apparently lost in thought. Although, he did notice our presence in the room still. He snaps his head toward us and the twinkle in his gentle eyes returns. "Go on you two. Cat will be mad if you are not ready in time."

"Ned," I try to press.

"I'll be fine, Nat. Go on," he dismisses for the second time. I want to argue, but Robb has the sense to pull me from the room.

"Hey," I protest once we are out in the hall. "I wasn't done." Robb knows of his father's situation and how critical it is that he is well prepared.

"But he was," Robb says as he drags me by the arm down the hall. Truthfully, however, I am not putting up much of a fight. He stops pulling me along once he sees that I am not resisting, but I won't look at him. It is not Robb that I am angry at, but he oftentimes gets the brunt of it. "I know you're scared for him, Nat, but, honestly, I'd be more of afraid of what my mother would do if you didn't get ready in time." His attempt at a joke does not settle my mind like he wants it to.

"Robb," I say with exasperation. He stops us, stands directly in front of me, and places his hands on my shoulders.

"Listen, Love. My father will be fine. He is a strong, intelligent man," Robb says.

"He is stubborn," I argue.

"Nonetheless," Robb concedes to me with a smile, but goes one, "there is no person I trust more to come back to his family, besides maybe you." It is a simple reassurance, but it has the desired effect. Robb notices my shift in demeanor immediately and smiles in satisfaction.

"Thank you," I tell Robb.

"For what?" he asks.

"For being able to stand me when I'm angry at you, especially for no reason," I explain, "and grounding me again."