A Crown of Thorns

She was crowned. Green sticks over her dark hair, pretty red roses adorning her temple. And, for the first time since he had first picked up a sword, a smile could be seen reaching Rhaegar's eyes. She didn't know how much that would cost them both.

He took her hand and led her into a dance, King and Queen, at least during that spring. Everything was possible during those few days, even an honorable love between the Prince and Lord Robert's promised wife. Words and smiles, looks and dances, it would be no more than that, she thought.

And on the last day, Robert had come to talk to her father about the best date for their wedding.

Lyanna was a Stark, and not a lady as they would have her be in Storm's End. She had loved Robert dearly, but the very idea of following her duty now thorned her heart. She wasn't like her brother Ned, dutiful. She was like her brother Brandon, willful. And, as everyone went to sleep, she left her flowered crown on her bed and searched for her Prince.

Some would say she was mad.

But not Rhaegar. He took her, and put her in a sell of her horse and if it were a throne, and road as fast as they could to safety. She knew she wouldn't be forgiven. She had betrayed her house, and for love alone. She wouldn't have a true crown, a true throne, a true husband. She wouldn't have true children; she would be nothing but a mistress, and a dangerous mistress at that. Martells would hate her, her people would hate her. She shamed them all, but it didn't matter.

He made her other crowns, akin to those she had left behind. He took her into his arms, loved her with his eyes, kissed her with his fingers and enthroned her upon his bed. It was the only throne she could ever hope for, she could ever want. It was home, in between his arms.

And she hoped to be forgotten, she hoped to be abandoned, but it was worse, much worse. They claimed her back, as if she was a thing that could be handled at their will. They cried that it was a crime, and never believed it was love. And while her womb grew in life and love, the ones that had claimed to love her spread death and hatred through the seven kingdoms.

They claimed her lover's life as well, and she would have gladly given up her own, but she didn't belong to herself anymore. It wouldn't have mattered, for she was the cause just in name, they claimed to fight for her freedom, for her life. Yet, the only dished served was death and chaos. She waited, as a fairytale princess, in a glass tower while war raged, knowing she would be again a prize to be won.

Some would say it was her fault.

She didn't fight to live after the birth, and why would she? Could Robert ever truly forgive her for being another's? Could she ever forgive him for killing her beloved? And all there was around was her tiny child and her brother's sad eyes. She knew that Ned wouldn't tell Robert her secret, he loved his friend too much for that, enough that he would have strangled her himself if she wasn't dying already.

It didn't matter.

She would die the queen that never was in the throne where she belonged, and Rheagar's bed would never know another woman or wear another crown. She had lost it all, in the end, for all her hopes had turned as false as the spring in which she first fell in love.

She closed her eyes, one last time.

And her crown was made of thorns.

Author's Note: My first ever ASoIaF fanfic. Yey for me!