It all goes downhill rather quickly.
The facts, sparse as they are, are these: there was a skirmish that escalated, crown against crown, and in the chaos, sword turned against brothers and now one of their own nobles has gone and turned traitor. Some say there's a Hoshidan princess at the helm; others say it is a clever ruse, meant to draw the standing Nohrian army further away from their capital.
Their eyes are still scanning the horizon for insurgence when new orders come, Chevois banners flying as they speak of rebellion more frequently, becoming bold as their enemy forces become spread thin.
Their new commander comes from the capitol, armor fresh and face young. She smiles at him and he asks for her strength, oblivious to her—looking past her, even, to the weary guards and seeing… something.
A bunch of tired foot soldiers, most likely.
Charlotte decides she doesn't like this new commander shortly after his arrival, youthful face and immaculate armor and title only given once, a name thick on his lips she only vaguely remembers.
She says as such, the night before they leave, leather between her teeth, refastening the strap of her axe that hangs at her wrist, Benny with pauldrons and polish at his knee. He is at least a touch fairer.
Blood simmers just beneath the smile taut on her lips, and all but boils once Port Dia erupts as the traitorous Corrin is uncovered. There are forces larger than expected; orders yelled at her to secure the ships, lest anyone try to leave again.
(Charlotte very quickly decides she would despise travel by sea, too.)
Waves underneath creaky boards and her aching feet have her itching to leave; she thinks of a letter unsent, still half-written and envelope empty at her back pocket, at rebels with flowering blooming against steel, and swings her axe with reckless abandon at the lady knight and cohorts who board the ship in big, lumbering steps.
It sings through the air to parry her lance; it misses the mark but strikes something better.
…It almost takes a chunk out of the steed of a princess as she makes a reckless approach to the enemy forces. Upon reflection, she's livid at herself for not catching a name before simply swinging at her first and asking questions later.
But despite missteps, she is welcome with open arms.
And welcome to a better pay, if only she turns tail and follows the Lady Elise. Charlotte's mind is made up in an instant.
Fortune favors the bold, after all.
(The facts, as sparse as they were, do not even scratch the surface of the truth. But there is a gentle hand upon her shoulder that evening, and although she chides Benny on wasting energy for her act, moments later there's an exhausted grin to match his own.
"We're in the big leagues now, Benny! Hehe… I'm got a feeling this is exactly the chance we've been waiting on!" So assured, spoken victoriously in a hushed hiss, all but threatening to grow louder with every word, unable to contain her excitement.
"Whatever you say, Charlotte." A reply following a meek nod, arms crossed but still smiling, despite fatigue.)
Also featuring Silas, Effie, and Elise in passing. and Arthur, although sadly his presence is only implied.
In the original draft, this chapter didn't even exist, but when I was reworking it I decided I didn't like the amount of time skipped between two and three.