"Robert didn't know me." He believed he did. He was so enamored with the idea of becoming Ned's brother that the marriage became overblown in his mind. He looked at her face and created an ideal to match the union he wanted. It was never about her, it was what Robert wanted. He didn't see the dirt on her cheeks or her tangled hair. He didn't look at her fraying hem or her grimy fingernails. She wasn't wild or a wolf to him, only a proper southron lady in her silk dresses that embroidered and sighed for a husband. He went to war for that woman, but never would have won her, even if Lyanna had lived. "When he spoke of me, it always seemed like he was describing another woman. If he wanted a stone idol, he can find her in our crypts."

She sighed, instantly regretting her words. The subject of her death was painful to Ned and it wasn't what he needed to hear while he was ill. "I know you would have." She clutched his hand tighter. "When Rhaegar died, I didn't know what I was going to do. I knew though that you would take me home and keep me safe. If I couldn't be with my husband, I would be with you."

The fever seemed to make him speak nonsense, insane nonsense. She quickly applied another cloth to his brow and tried to shush him, urging him away from topics that would excite him. "Don't think of that now. Ser Arthur isn't here. He isn't keeping us apart." Howland though. She hadn't seen him and hadn't asked what became of him, afraid to learn that he died. He was with Ned, at least. Ned wasn't alone in the end.

"Heard who? Who did you hear?"