A/N: I wanted to write something else in this format, something fluffy and short. I hope I managed that. Enjoy!

are we the wicked ones?

Her laughter is contagious.

You slide a warm hand down her side, your nose pressing to her's, a smile at your lips. "Good morning, my lady wolf." Your voice is smooth, your eyes alight with a gentle fire. She laughs, turning her head to the side when you go in for a kiss, so that your lips slid across her jaw instead. "You break my heart," you tell her, shifting to lean onto your elbow, eyes on her even as white blonde hair falls across your brow.

Her eyes, grey-blue, jump to yours, a sweet smile on her lips. "Whatever will you do, my dragon?" She shifts, long strands of her mousey hair sheeting her bare shoulders. Her smile is quaint, one arm draped across her chest and holding up the sheet while the other slides across to his hand to twin together their fingers.

You pounce, pulling her hands above her head and stealing a passionate kiss from her. Though it falls apart quickly due to her soft squeak turned to giggles and your own laughter mingling into the shared space between the two of you. Lyanna Stark was not a woman to giggle and you seize the moment, wanting to remember it. "I do believe that was almost lady-like," you tease and she pulls her hand back to swat at you, another peal of laughter falling from her lips.

"Lady?" she scoffs, pushing at your chest and sitting up, glancing towards you. "You wound me, my lord." She slides her fingers through her hair, not caring as it falls to a side in a curtain, darkening one side of her face in shadow.

You sit up straighter, pushing your hand through her hair and winding it through your fingers for a brief moment before your hand settles at her cheek. She presses her face against your hand, her eyes fluttering briefly closed. "Marry me," you whisper and her eyes focus on yours. "Lyanna, you're pregnant.." Your hand slides down to touch her belly.

Her hand closes on yours, rubbing your knuckles. "Give me time, my love," comes her reply, soft as winter wind. "You are bound to another." There is almost something sad in her tone, but she doesn't look at you.

"No one has to know, Lyanna. Not yet."

She shifts, drawing another blanket around her as she stands, crossing to the window of the tower and looking out across the land. "And what happens when the word gets out?" she questions to the air. "Rhaegar Targaryen sires a son with a betrothed Northern princess." She shakes her head. "Your name will be ruined."

There is laughter. It slides up from you. "Do you think I care for names, dearest?" You rise, finishing pulling up pants and padding to her side, wrapping an arm around her and drawing her back against you. "Lyanna, I wish only for the name given to our child. I want them to have a place in this world."

She turns in your arms, one hand holding the blanket up, other against your bare chest. "Promise me, Rhaegar," she whispers. "Promise me our child will have a place."

"I promise." You kiss her to seal it.