"Some old wounds never truly heal, and bleed again at the slightest word."
Third Person POV
Jaime arrives minutes after the separation. It appeared as a quarrel between two lovers. If not for the bloody chains amongst the bricks, and the unpleasant smell of smoke whirling around the room, he would have believed the quarrel to be true. Only through his eyes, did he see his daughter laying unconscious in the corner of the room.
Charlotte's body laid against the wall, her head propped up as though someone had laid her in that graceful position. A red rose woven into her hair, enlightening the new color of red it gleamed.
The rose a symbol of blood shed, yet an innocent saved.
Dante and Nerezza had long since left the room, not leaving any sign of their previous presence.
Jaime quickly rushed to her side, using his hand to see if her heart was still beating. To his relief, it was strong and constant. "Charlotte..." He whispers, softly shaking her shoulders as though it would wake her. "Charlotte..."
Nothing was waking the girl.
It was as though he was finally becoming aware of her physical wounds, seeing her entire body covered with cuts and bruises. Dried blood was caked against her face and arms. Her once beautiful blue dress was dull and red-stained with blood.
Carefully, he picks her up with both arms and cradles her as he once did when she was a scrabbling child and refused to go to sleep for her mother. If Jaime was to be a father to her anytime soon, that time was now. Even if it was only in emotional spirit.
A few Kingsguard pile into the room. Ser Barristan rushes to the aid of his nephew, whilst the others surrounded Jaime as he tended to Charlotte. The room was beginning to fill with whispers, but this didn't faze Jaime. Instead, he exclaims loudly in the direction of the loudest speaking Kingsgaurd. "Find, Cersei! Now!"
*~*
Charlotte's POV
"Help me! Somebody, please help me!" I screamed into the darkness. The burning flames were approaching from all sides. There was no sign of escape. "Help me!" A figure emerges from the flames. One with black eyes, and the face of a woman. "Lord of Light, take this life!"
"Charlotte, open your eyes! Wake up!"
My eyes flash open, immediate relief filling every part of my body. It was only a dream. My mother was sitting on the bedside, worry etched into the furrow of her eyebrows. "Are you okay..." She softly rubs my cheek, knowing that, yet again... She was waking me from another nightmare.
I leaned up slowly, resting against the backside of my bed. "Each night, it gets worse... I can physically feel the heat of the flames wanting to burn my skin. Each night, she yells the same words." I pulled the sheets up to my chest, still trying to hide the disappearing bruises and the scars that would never go away.
Three days later, and there was still signs of torture and abuse.
I crossed my arms over my chest, aching to just feel comfortable in my body again.
"Do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep again?" Her light voice pierces my troubled thoughts. I reply with a single nod of my head. If I looked at her, it would be a confession of my eyes. For they held my true feelings, and the fear that continued to grow in my heart.
She joins me in the bed, putting her right arm softly behind me back as she pulled me close.
Third step... Admitting to myself that my problems are no longer my own. I can allow others to carry my burden.
"I can assure you that your father is doing everything he can to ensure the bastards that did this to you are caught." At the very mention of the word father, I squirmed under her hold. He despises your very existence, from the minute your were born. He wanted you dead.
I close my eyes, trying to maintain what little sanity I had left.
"What is it Charlotte? Is there something your not telling me?"
She knew I was hiding something, but I dare not speak the truth to her. It could ruin everything, and I was not going to be the one who ended the reign of Robert Baratheon, for if my mother knew the truth ... She would definitely kill him.
I look up at her with dull eyes. "I don't want father to know about the nightmares... I don't want him to see me this way." I don't want him to see me at all... "He doesn't need to know everything. It's better if this just stays between you and I. I wouldn't want him worrying. He's already drinking his way into an early grave." The sooner, the better.
She places her hand behind my head, and kisses me on the forehead. "If this is what you want."
No, but it's the only way to ensure peace.
*~*
The definition of a hero is plainly stated as this: an ordinary individual who finds the strength to persevere and endure in spite of overwhelming obstacles.
*~*
Third Person POV
Two days had come to pass and rumors were beginning to fly through the Keep. None of which were particularly becoming. Everyone was convinced that Charlotte had become a harlot, and was now selling herself in Flea Bottom.
It pained Charlotte to know that her people thought of her this way. However, Charlotte knew there was a way to resolve such issues, but it required much on her part.
Today was the Hand's Tourney. A dedication to Lord Stark for becoming Hand of King.
Golden flags were lining the Jousting arena. The ground was tilled to the point of perfection, a wooden fence separating each side of the competition. Knights were decorated with the sigils of their families. It was a magnificent event, with an even more glorious reward to the winner of the joust and archery competitions.
*~*
Charlotte's POV
The members of my family were already sitting amongst the dais. Joffrey was sitting to the left our mother, whilst Tommen and Myrcella were sitting a few feet in front our father. All eyes were watching my approach as I took careful steps to my seat.
I had dressed myself in golden lace. It was hanging gracefully from my shoulders as to hide the marks that covered my arms, only my hands were visible. My hair, sparkling from the incoming sun rays, was blowing softly in the wind. A gleam of red in the distance.
Immediately the crowd began to whisper under hushed tones. I pretend not to take notice, and kept my face forward. I focused my sight on one object. The face of my fath... Lord Stark. He smiled at my appearance. It was only he and a few others who even knew of what happened to me.
From the very beginning, I had decided to sit encompassed by my people. A space was available beside Renly. I took this as an opportunity to bond with my uncle, whom I was sure wasn't as vile as the King.
"Charlotte... It's so nice to blessed by your presence. "
I narrowed my eyes at my young uncle. "Hush it, Renly. These flowers in my hair will be down your throat the next time you say my name."
His face widens before turning away, and watching the approaching knights.
One was clothed in armor, his face covered with his helmet. The other, however, was Sir Loras. A red rose was held tightly in his hand. Unbeknownst to me, Loras was riding straight in my direction. "Charlie... I would stand. Loras is presenting you with the rose."
"He's doing what?" I hissed under my breath.
Renly pulls my arm forward, in the perfect position for Loras to place the rose in my hand. He bows his head respectively. "Princess..."
Before I knew it, he was riding away and I had not taken the opportunity to thank him. I turn to Renly, the rose still in my hand. "What just happened?"
Renly chuckles loudly. "If Loras wins this joust, he will crown you the queen of love and beauty."
"I thought that was only for the daughters of high lords?"
He shrugs his shoulders. "I don't think Loras actually cares. Anyone in their right mind would have picked you. You are quite beautiful." I grabbed one of the flowers intertwined in my hair and throw it at his face. "Stop the flattering!"
The two knights continue forward, coming to stand in front of my father. He offers his approval with the nod of his head, and they part ways. Gregor Clegane parts to the right, whilst Sir Loras retreats to the left.
"I sure hope Loras survives this..." My words were loud enough for Renly to hear. Fear was apparent on his pale face. What does Renly fear?
"100 gold dragons on the Mountain." Littlefinger bets, turning to face Renly. "I'll take that bet."
Littlefinger continues. "Now, what would I buy with a hundred gold dragons? A dozen barrels of Dornish wine...Or a girl, from the pleasure houses of Lyse."
"You could even buy a friend." Renly retorts, causing me to giggle softly. Littlefinger raises his eyebrows in approval, as if he knew something. I really need to get out of the Red Keep...
My eyes are immediately drawn to the stampeding horse that belonged to Sir Gregor. It looked like a wild animal from the fields of Casterly Rock. A huge black stallion the size of a small wheelhouse. It was out of control. "He's going to kill, Loras..."
Renly vents with anger. "He's one of the best. I wouldn't underestimate him..."
"I'm not underestimating him the slightest. I'm just predicting the outcome of this joust. Do you think I want Loras to die?" I closed my eyes for a complete second, debating my next words. I reached into my silk pocket and pulled out a very small amount golden coins worth much in value. "Give these to Loras as a token of my thanks if he manages to survive this. Tell him to meet me in my bedchambers as the sun goes down tonight."
Renly grabs the coins. "As you wish, Princess."
I stood from my position amongst the crowd, and backed away down the hidden stairs. My mother's eyes were following me the entire time, but she didn't stand to follow me.
The last thing I heard before entering the Red Keep was the gasps of the crowd as the sound of a scrabbling horse echoes through the air before dying.