Lyanna had grown up on tales of heroes, raised listening to nobles and servants boast about how the young lady Stark had the wolf's blood flowing through her veins. A temper and hotheadedness she shared with Brandon, and to a lesser extent Benjen. They were three of a kind, the Wild Wolf, the She-Wolf and the Young Pup. Yet, as she stood across from Ned, she couldn't help but feel she'd made a mistake. Erred in her judgement that the blood of the first men ran weaker in him, than it did the rest of them. A quiet wolf still had fangs.

She loved Ned the most of her siblings. He was memories of soft smiles teased out of his dour expression by her antics, of a shoulder to cry on when Brandon was lost in his own world and Benjen was too young to understand.

So, to see his soft cloud-grey eyes harden with rage cut deep. He hadn't said a word, yet she could feel the emotions rolling off of him as she and Rhaegar took a seat. Her husband had wanted to stand, to remind Eddard that though he was Lord Paramount and Rhaegar's good brother, Rhaegar was now king by Eddard's own hand. A soft reminder that he was a king who lacked an army had ended that small defiance.

"My sister," Ned spoke, his expression dark as his eyes bore into Lyanna's. "Has begged for your life. Said that there was no abduction, that she went with you on her own free will. I wish to know, why."

"I was in need of another heir." Rhaegar's voice was low and as calm to match Ned's as he continued. "We met at Harenhall, and your sister impressed me as the Knight of the Laughing Tree. I was sent to unmask the Knight, my father thinking they were a traitor, and instead I found her. The crown of flowers were to show my respect. After that, we started exchanging letters and fell in love. She did not wish to marry Lord Baratheon, and I needed a daughter to fulfill my son's destiny. When presented with the chance, she came along with me. I love her no less than Elia, and as soon as this is over, I shall marry her before the Seven, just as I had your own Gods." He made it sound so simple, as if the rebel's were the unreasonable party in this war.

"Ned-" Lyanna began, hoping to clarify as Ned tensed at the mention of Robert. A wound that was still swore, one of many she'd inflicted upon him. But her plea was cut off, as Ned's hands slammed into the table. Hands go to their respective pommels as Kingsguard and Ned's bodyguards wait to see who draws first. Ned's voice cut through as he continued.

"You have said your piece for now." He asks, teeth bared in a way that brings back memories of Brandon. Ned turns his gaze to Rhaegar. "Your son's destiny?" He bites out, never one to mince words in the first place.

"As the Prince Who Was Promised. A song of ice and fire, to bring forth the dawn and put an end to the Long Night. A Visenya to go alongside Aegon and Rhaenys, for the dragon must have three heads. I was simply trying to protect the kingdom." Rhaegar said with cool confidence, until he saw a queer look pass over Ned's face.

Ned lowered his chin, shaking as he gripped the edges of the table, knuckles white from the strain. "My King." Lyanna refused to shudder at the venom that dripped from her brother's voice as spoke. "A question. Who were the founders of House Targaryen?"

"Aegon the Conqueror and his sisters."

"And in what order were they born?"

Rhaegar narrowed his brow in thought. "Visenya, Aegon then Rhaenys. Why do you care?"

"For a man so concerned about prophecies and wishing to invoke them, you let your carelessness betray you." Ned shot back, and Lyanna watched as her husband's face shifted from confused to horrified understanding.

"Ned, plea-" She could fix this, she had to fix this. She couldn't lose Ned after all this.

"No!" He shouted, as his steel grey eyes cut through her. "I have heard enough excuses! Prophecies, destinies, fairy tales and a minstrel's fantasy! Is this what this war has been fought for?! Is this why Brandon and Father died?"

"Lord Stark, it was King Aerys who-" Ser Dayne began only to be frozen with a look.

"They were doing their duty, trying to protect their sister, and their daughter. My father was burned alive, my brother strangled in a vain attempt to save him and you wish to put the blame on a dead man? There was no note, no announcement, nothing to indicate that this was anything other then actions most foul, and you have the audacity to sit before me and act as if you are the wronged party?"

Ned took a breath, as if to calm himself. "In this war, I have lost two fathers." Her own father, and Lord Arryn, she thought unable to bring her eyes up off the floor. "Two brothers." Brandon and Robert. "And when I finally return to Winterfell, do you know what will be waiting for me? A woman who is love with a shadow of a man, and got nothing but his lesser of a brother as a reward. I won't be able to look my wife in the eye for the rest of my life, without wondering if it is me, or Brandon she truly wants." He sighed."I watched as thousands of men, suffer and throw themselves on the sword in an attempt to rescue you. Simply because you bear the name Stark. Because you weren't able to do your duty."

"Duty?!" Lyanna shouted, incensed by her brother's words. "I never asked for Brandon and Father to come rescue me! I never asked for your friend to raise the kingdom for me! If it was my duty to be sold like a broad mare, sod it. All I wanted was freedom! A chance to make my own decisions for once!"

"And what has it brought you? Where is this Visenya, your Lord Husband speaks so highly of?! For I have seen a nephew placed in my arms! Are you going to make him a eunuch, in some attempt to stop the cock between his legs from interfering with your husband's beloved prophecy?! Men from the furthest reaches of the North, all the way to the deserts of Dorne lost their lives for your supposed freedom! Do you think you'll be happy here? Do you think the people of the realm will love you, when all your selfishness has brought is fire and blood!? They will not remember how gracefully you rode a horse. How your boasts of being a better swordsman than Benjen were amusing as a child. They will only remember that because of you, their son is dead. Their father is dead. Their brother is dead. You want freedom? Have it. As Lord of Winterfell, I grant it to you. You are hereby stripped of all titles and inheritance, by the power invested in me as Lord Paramount and Head of House Stark. You will bear no more responsibilities than the ones you desire. May you find some happiness in that."

She was a girl raised on stories, with a love for beautiful things. And yet, as she watched the last smudges of grey marched off in the horizon, she wondered what it'd have been like if she hadn't fallen for the knight in shining armor come to rescue her from her fate. Had chosen a brash young lord who sought her affection at every turn and died for it, instead of a prince who charmed her with soft songs and promises of a brighter future.

Perhaps, she would have still had her pack. Might have found love in a man who was loved by all but her. Spent her days as a Lady adored by those around her, free to do as she wished, instead of having to stubbornly walk by as servants whispered barbed words behind her back, and a husband that grew cold at her failure to produce a proper heir. Unfortunately, the gods are cruel, and she'd never get a chance to find out.

AN: I'm hoping this story came out as less bashing Rhaegar and Lyanna, and more of Ned being justifiably pissed at the two of them for being the biggest pair of idiots in the kingdom. Anyways, hope you enjoyed the story, and feel free to leave a comment, concern or review if you so desire.