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...
"Chaos isn't a pit. Chaos is a ladder. Many who try to climb it fail and never get to try again. The fall breaks them. And some are given a chance to climb, but refuse. They cling to the realm, or love, or the Gods... Illusions. Only the ladder is real. The climb is all there is. But they'll never know this, not until it's too late."
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Charlotte's POV
"Arya?Jon?" I walked along the covered bridge in hope that my past siblings would acknowledge me, or even recognize me. Jon and Arya were my last hope at ever reconciling with the Starks. They needed to know that I still loved them... In a distance world they would still be considered my family if none of this 'missing princess' rummage had come to surface.
The two of them stare through me as though I was a ghost. Nymeria, Arya's direwolf, growls softly. Even the wolf doesn't want me here.
I was the betrayer among wolves. A lion in the midst.
Desperation fills the void of my voice. "Please... I just want to talk to the two of you."
Jon speaks deeply, allowing his voice to rebound along the boards of the covered bridge. "A lioness does not concern herself with the opinions of sheep."
I narrowed my eyes, the green of my pupils blazing from the reflection of the sun. "I am no more a Lannister than you are a Stark."
Jon drops from his perch on the sill, standing feet away from me with anger filling his face. "You're a mirror image of the Queen, if you failed to notice." I place one foot in front of the other, coming to settle right in front of his face. "You could be the very picture of Lord Eddard Stark. Long face, eyes of the North."
He mumbles in rough undertones. "I carry the blood of a bastard."
"I carry the blood of a Baratheon."
Jon backs away, complete frustration lining the depths of his eyes. "I do not understand your words, Princess. You have been given the best of both worlds. Royalty and riches. As a Baratheon, you carry the rank of authority. As a Lannister, you belong to one of the most powerful families in Westeros."
"You do not understand the complexity of your words." I turn away. "If it has come this far, you may never understand. We have much in common. You and I, Jon Snow. " I allow my feet to carry me off the covered bridge. The tenacity of their stares bore into my back.
My once hope in reconciliation was now crumbled, ashes in the wind.
•••
After confronting Jon and Arya, I found myself wandering into the Godswood. Only the trees could offer me comfort in this time of need. I laid my cloak down against the mossy ground, sitting against a Weirwood tree .
My eyes began to close, darkness being the last thing I see before falling into a deep slumber.
