Hey guys, so this is my first attempt at a GoT fanfiction, so please bear with me! Some of the actual timeline of events may be slightly altered for the purpose of the story and, since it is of course Game of Thrones, there will be scenes that are definitely not fit for children. I've always been super interested in the story of Jon Snow's parents (spoiler alert if any of you haven't watched season six, I apologize), so this is what my imagination came up with! Of course, I own nothing, and reviews are welcome! I will try to update as quickly as I can!

Mina

Present

"Could you be more stupid?!" Lyanna cried, crossing her arms in distress. A small vein in her forehead began to stand out under the pale flesh, and he felt an adoring grin spring to his lips. She scoffed, "You have a wife and children! I have a betrothed! AND THEY WERE ALL WATCHING US!"

Rhaegar leaned casually against the hard wood of the dresser and watched her rant in silence. She really was the most beautiful woman he'd ever encountered. Lyanna possessed the beauty and femininity of her mother, the temperament of her father, and the spirit of her brothers. Whenever she was around, Rhaegar was reintroduced to excitement and wonder. She set his senses ablaze, and he couldn't help but appreciate the irony that lay in the fact that a lady of the North could set the young dragon on fire.

"You did it to us, Lyanna," he said, shrugging slightly, "You were too beautiful. I could not stop myself."

She rolled her eyes and tried not to smile. There was something about the way that he always seemed so comfortable and so sure he was making the right choice that was attractive to her. It always had been, since they'd met only a year or so before, when she had gone with her father to visit her brother, Ned, a ward in the Vale. Rhaegar had been there by chance, roaming the kingdoms aimlessly as he often did, much to his father's dismay…

Nearly two years earlier

She'd stumbled upon him while he was sitting in one of the corridors by a window, holding the little stringed instrument that the south loved so much. He was beautiful, of course. His hair was as silver as the very stars in the sky, his eyes a deep violet that seemed to dance in the light of the sun. He had a sincere smile, one that appeared on his face as soon as he'd seen her approach him, and his voice was the listening to the sound of honey.

"Lady Lyanna Stark," he said warmly.

She blinked, unsure of what to say. Her name had rolled off his tongue without awkwardness or uncertainty; he knew exactly who she was and he wanted her to know that. She wasn't used to such informality, "Yes, my prince. I could hear you playing from my chambers. I am sorry, I did not mean to disturb you."

He shrugged slightly and leaned against the stone wall, "Beauty never disturbs."

She felt a blush rise in her cheeks. Her father, though an honorable man, had always failed at hiding his dislike of the Targaryen house. Throughout his daughter's childhood, he had described them as being too ostentatious and self-obsessed to ever be truly successful rulers. He'd slighted their beautiful appearances and their lack of honor too many times for Lyanna to count. All of those judgements, all of those opinions completely dissolved as she stared down at Rhaegar Targaryen.

She swallowed hard, "You flatter me, my prince, but surely I disturbed you a little. You stopped playing."

He playfully strummed the strings and raised his eyebrows at her, "I was simply finished with the song. And please, call me Rhaegar."

"Rhaegar," she said, the name feeling too comfortable on his lips. Before she could stop herself, she repeated the name, "Rhaegar…"

He rose to his feet and bowed for her politely. There was something bold about him that intimidated her as he spoke, "You have a soothing voice. Do you sing?"

She snorted, "Hardly. My father would not approve of us learning to play instruments and singing songs."

"And why ever not?" he asked, cocking his head to the side slightly. His eyes floated over her figure and she grew warm.

Lyanna cleared her throat, "I – I suppose he just finds it unlike the North."

Rhaegar's brows furrowed, "I see…well I will just have to show you. Have you ever heard 'The Lady of Lynese'?"

She shook her head. A sweet smile danced across his lips and he began to play, "And the black hearted Lady of Lynese, with black eyes and black hair; whose beauty condemned the hearts of men and whose presence warmed the air; she chilled the lives of enemies, she conquered and she killed; but towards a knight, a fair fair knight, she found her heart was willed. And so the lady of Lynese, though beautiful and strong; fell in love with a simple knight who everyone deemed as wrong. She sacrificed her riches and she cut off her black hair; and the lords of Lynese cried their black hearted lady was not there."

Lyanna was mesmerized by the sound of his voice, and she found herself wishing that the song was longer. She chuckled slightly at the end of it, "So she fell in love with someone she wasn't supposed to, and the world weeped for her?"

Rhaegar nodded, "In essence, yes."

"What a funny idea," she said softly. He was still standing, and she suddenly felt the need to be closer to him. There was something magnetic about his quick smile. It called all of her senses to attention. She loved it; she had never in her life experienced anything quite like the feeling of being around Rhaegar Targaryen.

"Now you try," he said, taking one of her hands and placing it on the stringed instrument. The contact, however small, set her entire body on fire. She swallowed hard and looked up at his face to see if he, too, was surprised.

Rhaegar's face was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. His eyes were widened, his lips slightly parted, and his expression was impossible to read, yet he was still perfect. He glanced down at her lips, a silent question in his eyes. She felt the urge to step into him and allow him to kiss her. She quickly realized that she hated the feeling of desire almost as much as she loved it. All she did then was simply nod, and everything else vanished.

Rhaegar had felt every single nerve ending in his body rejoice when she nodded her head. Lyanna Stark was, for lack of a better term, compelling. She was gorgeous, of course, but she was also firm. He could immediately tell that she was a respectable young woman and that she surely would never encourage his fantasies. But with that nod, that beautiful little gesture of consent, all of his doubts melted away. He leaned his head down and pressed his lips to hers in a moment of sweet passion, and never wanted to escape it.

Present

Even two years later, the feeling of that first kiss burned on Lyanna's lips. She paused, reminding herself of the situation they found themselves in. Elia Martel was there with their beautiful children. Robert Baratheon was there, his heart and his future hers for the taking. Robert had always been in love with her, and it would be a horrific thing of her to break his heart along with the marital vows that Rhaegar had made. She was an honorable woman. She was a Stark. She couldn't possibility do anything as stupid as fall in love with the prince, Rhaegar Targaryen.

"Why did you pull me in here?" she asked, gesturing to the small tent that they were standing in. There was a bed and a dresser, though both were far too modest to be his.

He looked around, his violet eyes serious, "I wanted to speak with you."

"But why?" she asked desperately, her skin growing warm all over again. Her voice grew sarcastic as she asked, "Have another song to teach me?"

He smiled, "No, not quite. I do not really have an answer. I just enjoy your company."

"That's a dangerous pleasure, my prince."

"Rhaegar," he corrected her immediately, "And I am aware. It does not mean it was not worth it. I knew you would never agree to speak with me privately if you did not have something to say."

Lyanna crossed her arms, "So you decided to make a spectacle of my embarrassment?"

"It worked, did it not?" he said, smirking seductively.

She swallowed, choosing to ignore his arrogance. She faced him completely, her expression suddenly very serious, "What do you want from me, Rhaegar Targaryen?"

"All you can give me, Lyanna Stark."

She straightened her posture and tried not to react to his words, "You barely know me."

"I disagree with that," he said, shrugging slightly, "I think we understand each other quite well, actually."

She sighed loudly, "You think. We live completely different lives. We met once, for a very brief period, what makes you think I am at all interested in spending time with you?"

He took a step toward her, and he immediately felt the tension rise. He knew that she feared what she felt, as did he, though he was obviously more cavalier than she was. He liked that she didn't know what to make of him. He liked that she was conflicted about what it meant in regards to her honor. All of the things that made her the mysterious, chaste beauty that she was, he liked, "That kiss."

A blush painted her cheeks, "It – It was a mistake, you know that."

"Was it?" he asked softly. He took a few more steps toward her and searched her eyes for an answer, "Because, normally, one learns from mistakes."

"Yes," was all she managed.

"I learned several things that one afternoon, all of which make me want to repeat the mistake, over and over," he breathed deeply. Lyanna allowed him to press his body against hers as he kissed her again.

She felt a rush of emotion. There were so many things wrong with the situation, but she couldn't pretend that she hadn't thought about the kiss hundreds, maybe thousands of times over the past two years. All thoughts of Elia were forgotten, all thoughts of Robert were forgotten. All that there was lay in between their two bodies.

Rhaegar slipped his tongue past her sweet lips and she stiffened against him. His touch was like fire against her skin, an impossibly delicious fire that left her entire body tingling the second he pulled away. She couldn't stop the whimper that escaped her throat.

A slow smile crept across his face, "My my, Lady Lyanna, it seems you agree."

She rolled her eyes playfully, but would not give him the satisfaction of vulnerability. She straightened her already straight skirts and tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear, "We should get back before anyone notices."

"When will I see you again?" he asked, his honey voice dripping with desire.

Lyanna paused, "When do you want to?"

"Whenever you are ready," he smirked, planting a small kiss on her swollen lips.

She blushed, "I'm sure I do not know what you mean."

Rhaegar assessed her figure quickly, taking in how truly beautiful she was. He wanted every second he could get with her alone, and he meant to spend future time wisely, "Ok."