Growing up, Arianna Baratheon always believed there was something different between herself and her siblings. She had been born into the royal family as a princess due to her father's and Lord Eddard Stark's quelling of the rebellion, but she always found it curious how she had always been treated different than her older brother Joffrey and her younger brother and sister, Tommen and Myrcella, also princes and a princess.
The most noticeable difference, were the differences in appearance. Arianna's hair fell in soft, jet-black waves around her shoulders, her eyes an icy, storm blue identical to her father's, King Robert, the first of his name. Her siblings, however, really bore her no resemblance. Where her hair was dark, theirs was a light golden blonde, and instead of stormy blue eyes, theirs were as green as southern grass. For this, Arianna had always felt like an outsider within her own family. There were times when her mother, Queen Cersei, queen of Westeros, would look at her strangely, before her expression faded into one of love.
Her father, however, seemed to favor her. Maybe it was the resemblance she bore him, but he had always treated his oldest daughter with affection. He showered her with gifts, which Arianna felt was unnecessary but appreciated, as well as took her on private hunts when he wanted to spend a little extra time with her, leaving matters of the throne in the hands of her mother and the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn. When she had made her first kill, Joffrey had been jealous and would not speak to her for two weeks.
When she had been a girl of twelve, she had begged her father to show her around a sword and a bow. Hearing her Uncle Stannis tell stories of famous warriors were her favorite parts of royal feasts and tourneys her father held. When he had told her the story of the female warrior Visenya Targaryen who wielded a blade she had named "Dark Sister" into battle on the back of the dragon Vhagar, to say she had been enraptured would be a momentous understatement. In the beginning, her father had said no, but Arianna had convinced him within a few days of having first asked him. If there was one thing she had inherited from her mother's side of the family, it had been her cunning wit and persuasive manner.
This training had exceeded into her present age, ten-and-six. She daresay she had much more training than her older brother had. When her mother had found out about sword and bow training that Arianna had been receiving, she was furious. Her mother and father had fought all that night and had been at each other's throats for as much as a month after she had found out. It was a miserable month, but in the end, Arianna's training had been allowed to continue.
She was a girl of sixteen, so it was rather a surprise to most of the common folk that she had not been married off yet. The prospect of marriage and children had frightened Arianna to no end, and she had begged her father to put off marriage until she was ready. It had worked in the beginning, but she could see that her father and mother were getting impatient, which meant that Arianna was quickly running out of time.
She only hoped they would choose someone worthy and honorable.
Like her other royal siblings, Arianna had been educated by the Grand Maester himself, Pycelle. Something about the man had always rubbed Arianna the wrong way, and she was frequently chastised for "unladylike conduct" while in lessons. However much she had disliked the slimy old man, she had retained a lot from his lessons. She had grown to be very intelligent, and in the words of her father, "your mind is the only Lannister trait you carry."
Being a princess was not the life that Arianna would have asked for. She had the spirit of a Baratheon, and wished to have the privileges that men held. She would have never told her mother, but she wanted to be knighted, eventually. Maybe by her own father. It delighted her to think of it. She wanted more than to be a broodmare for a lord heed his every order. She wanted to be free, her own person.
Her fiery passion had been noticed by her family, friends, and the common folk alike. She had been nicknamed the "little Doe" due to her father's Baratheon stag sigil and her own energy and outlook. Unlike her brother who was the heir to the Iron Throne, she made an effort to win the affections of the people. She walked among them and spoke among them. She bought among them and played among their children. When they asked something personal of her or asked her to bring something to the attention of her royal father, she would try her hardest to do so. Her mother had been slightly peeved that Arianna spent some of her days among the common folk, either believing it unladylike or fearing that she could get hurt, but simply being judged would not stop her. She was loved by the people for her earthy, down-to-earth demeanor and she wouldn't have it any other way.
When there was a sharp rap on her door, Arianna quickly shoved her sword under her bed. "Dragon's Tooth" she had named it. It had been her father's fifteenth name-day gift to her, a year past. It had been forged out of Valyrian steel, the finest steel that a blade could be forged from, with a pommel of gold and encrusted with black diamonds, the Baratheon colors. Arianna had been enraptured with its beauty and after a stunned silence when he presented it to her, she had shot up into her father's arms and nearly choked him with her embrace. He had returned her tight embrace, laughing deeply, before explaining to her that his "little Doe" always received the best. Joffrey had been wroth with envy and ever since the day she had received her sword, she had practiced with it every day.
"Yes? Who is it?" She voiced, breathless from shock, adjusting her gold and black silk gown.
"Your favorite uncle," the voice responded.
Arianna grinned widely and strode to the door, wrenching it open when she reached it. Tyrion Lannister stood on the other side, grinning back in greeting. She stood a little more than a foot over him, but what he lacked in size, he made up for in cunning. "Greetings, Uncle. Are you well?"
Tyrion nodded in response. "Fabulous. I was heading down to the Great Hall for supper and was wondering if you would accompany me. There's something I would like to speak to you about." Arianna agreed, closing her chamber doors behind her as she stepped out into the warm hallway. Like always, Arianna and her uncle swapped pleasant stories and japes as they walked the hallways of the Red Keep. But when Tyrion grew silent and serious, Arianna knew the matter he needed to speak to her over was a serious matter, as her uncle was rarely silent.
"Arianna, there has been talk among the royal court…"
"There's always talk among the royal court, Uncle." She responded, amused. Tyrion flashed an amused expression before regaining his serious composure once more. Arianna sighed. "Over what?"
"Over your father's heir."
"My brother?" Arianna asked, curiously.
Tyrion sighed and stopped walking, turning to face his niece. "There is talk among the court that King Robert should leave the realm to you after he is dead."
As soon as the words left her uncle's mouth, Arianna shook her head hard and continued down the spacious hallway. "Absolutely not."
"Is it such a bad idea?"
"The throne belongs to my brother. I would not make a good queen."
"On the contrary, I believe only the people who believe they are wrong for the job make the best rulers." Arianna stopped walking again, allowing her uncle to catch up to her, having fell slightly behind in her angry stride. Before she was able to respond, Barristan Selmy, Lord-Commander of the Kingsguard, had appeared looking disheveled and troubled beyond measure. Arianna approached him, worried.
"Ser Barristan, is something wrong?"
"It's Jon Arryn, Princess. He's dead."
Arianna's eyes widened in shock. She glanced back at her uncle for several seconds before shoving past Barristan Selmy in search of her father.