Charlotte was born a royal, a princess. A Lannister. Through the acts of thievery, she ends up in Winterfell, being raised by Lord and Lady Stark. As Jon Arryn's death has come to pass, King Robert needs a new Hand. Who other than her father, Eddard...
"There is a lot that can happen between now and never."
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"Princess, we have to get as far away from the city as possible." Ser. Barristan throws a large cloak over Charlotte's shoulders and continues to push her through the halls of the Red Keep. "Joffrey already believes you to be dead, we cannot have you resurrected within the same hour."
Charlotte mumbles under her breath, "wouldn't be the first time." To her, death is just a mere friend waiting in the shadows to finally grab ahold when all is lost. Peace. Deliverance from long-suffering. Was death such a bad thing? She throws herself against the wall at the sound of approaching footsteps. "Guards?"
Ser. Barristan shakes his head back and forth. "No."
The cold air blowing freezes the roof of Charlotte's mouth. "I need to get something from my chambers... It's-uh... valuable." Barely able to form coherent words, she willingly closes her mouth and points in the opposite direction.
"Sorry, princess. It's too dangerous."
"My sword, I want my sword." Charlotte bites her tongue anxiously, as if unyielding energy builds beneath her skin. Energy in need of releasing with no apparent exit. "It's all I have left. If not myself, can you retrieve it? I'll wait." She twiddles her thumbs, unable to meet Ser. Barristan's gaze. "It'd-uh, mean a lot."
"I can never deny a warrior her sword and shield." He looks both directions before disappearing into the nearest room. Charlotte smiles with silent satisfaction.
Another set of footsteps echo through the halls, these of metal and cladded boots. The real guards. Charlotte pushes herself into a small cranny in the wall. Rocks dig into her back and legs, reminding her of the moment she learned she was Charlotte Baratheon; hiding behind a collapsing rock trying to escape eyes of the King. "I thought I heard something." The guard's voice stills Charlotte's body immediately.
The footsteps slowly disappear into the distant halls as Charlotte finally takes a breath. Sneaking away was never a strong suit of hers. She always got caught in the end, and she can only hope this time would be different. "Charlotte?"
A familiar voice lightens Charlotte's heart. "Arya?"
"I've been searching everywhere for you. Father, he..." She appears from the shadows with a wooden sword in her hand.
Charlotte pushes herself out of the wall and stumbles right into Arya's shorter figure. "I know. I tried everything I could to save him. Joffrey's beyond convincing and I've released all familial ties from my mother. I should've learned long ago, once a Stark, always a Stark."
Arya rushes into Charlotte's arms. "They can't just put him on trial. He didn't do anything wrong!"
"We have to be stronger then our enemies. We have to rise above our feelings. We have-" Charlotte searches Arya's eyes, another tangible connection to the North, of their home, "to be brave, and when we get stronger, we have to fight back. Promise me, Arya, that you will not put yourself in danger. Promise me..." Both of her hands find Arya's shoulders. "We have to survive if father is to ever be revenged."
