When he had laid the crown on her lap, in front of everyone, she was sure her heart stopped. He had passed over his wife - his wife - and many other women much more beautiful than her. And he had done it without seeming to care about what anyone else thought. His father, his wife, her brothers, her betrothed, practically every other person in King's Landing - he had ignored all of them and laid the crown on her lap.
She laughed despite the pain as she remembered how Robert had raged. How dare that silver bastard do that to my Lyanna, he had cried. Her face had been a mask of calm, hiding the smile that threatened to break. It didn't matter how many flowers he gave her, how many children they had, how well he took care of her; she would never love Robert Baratheon.
Her brother's childhood friend had acted as if they were already married. Robert had made promises of love, of loyalty. He swore that he would never share another's bed, but she knew it was not true. The man would never keep to one bed. She was sure that whatever promises he made her, in a few months, he would make the same promises to another woman.
She wondered how Robert would have reacted if he found out she was the Knight of the Laughing Tree. How would he view her when he learned that his Lyanna didn't care for being ladylike and obedient? Would he love her all the more? Or would he hate her, hate having a wife that would rather practice with swords and ride horses than sew dresses and give him little lords and ladies?
Rhaegar had understood her. He had understood the moment he met her that she wasn't a woman to be treated as inferior, as a way of making heirs. That's what brought them together. Neither had been happy with their lives. She was betrothed to a man she didn't love, made to be something she wasn't. He had been forced to marry a woman he didn't love. At least, not in the way he loved Lyanna. They had been perfect for each other.
When he offered her the chance to run away she had accepted without a second thought. She would rather spend her life running away with Rhaegar than locked away in Storm's End as nothing more than Robert Baratheon's whore. She would have given Rhaegar all the sons and daughters he wanted if he would let her be herself, if he didn't force her to be the perfect little lady that she was supposed to be.
All her dreams were put to a halt when they learned of what King Aerys had done to her father and brother. Oh, Father, Brandon, I'm sorry. She'd locked herself away in her room for two days. She refused to come out, even for Rhaegar. When she finally did come out, she could see the regret in her Silver Prince's eyes. She knew that those emotions were reflected in her own eyes.
In the end, he had left her. I'll come back, he told her as he mounted his horse. If only she knew that would be the last time she would see him. He would never see their child, never become the great King he was meant to be. He would die young, crushed under Robert's hammer.
She would never forgive Robert. If she lived through this, she would leave for Winterfell. She would refuse to marry him, refuse to even see him. Never would he be allowed the satisfaction of making her his wife. She would never marry that monster.
The news of Elia and the children's fate had torn at her heart. Robert hadn't punished Tywin Lannister for murdering children. Dragonspawn, he called them. Rhaenys, seven years old, and Aegon, an infant, both murdered brutally. Elia, raped after watching her son's head bashed on a wall. And Robert had rewarded the man responsible! If Rhaegar had been confronted with this situation, he would have punished Tywin for those horrors. But Rhaegar was dead and Robert sat the throne.
Her life was slipping away. She didn't care that much. Rhaegar was dead. Father and Brandon were dead. It was only fair that she die with them. But she couldn't let go, not yet. First, her son had to be born. She could hear her brother fighting the three Kingsguard outside. She knew what she had to do. Either way she would die. But if she gave up now, her son - her baby boy - would die with her. No. He had to live. He had to survive where his mother and father didn't.
As his first wails pierced the air, as she held him against her breast, sadness overwhelmed her. Her first son, her only son. She would never get to hold him as he slept, she would never hear his first words or see him take his first steps. She would never see him spar with other boys his age, would never see him marry and have a family of his own. And he would never know his mother and father, and how much they loved him.
Her brother was beside her now, staring at the baby she held. His wolf blood had dominated the dragon blood flowing in his veins. His hair was brown, not silver. His eyes were grey, not violet. He was beautiful.
"Promise me, Ned," she whispered, her hand clutching his. She was fading quickly. But she would not let her son suffer that same fate as Elia's children. Robert would kill her son if he found out. But her brother would protect the boy, would raise him as his own. Her brother would protect her secret.
"Jon," she murmured before the darkness overcame her and her hand went limp in Ned's. The last thing she heard was her brother's sobs and her son's wails as Lyanna Stark, the Queen of Love and Beauty, died in the Tower of Joy.