The sun was high in the sky as King's Landing held its breath in anticipation. The square in front of the Red Keep was packed with citizens eager to witness the execution of Eddard Stark, the former Hand of the King. The atmosphere was thick with tension, every person eager to see the traitor, who had dared challenge the crown, finally brought to justice.
Eddard stood stoically, his hands bound by chains, ready to face the executioner's axe. His eyes, weary and accepting, scanned the crowd. Sansa, Arya, and Bran stood in the distance, their hearts heavy, unsure of what to do or what to think. They had no idea what this day would bring, and they feared it would be the last time they would see their father alive.
But there was one Stark who was not standing at the square. Annie, the youngest of Eddard Stark's children, was nowhere to be seen. She had stayed away from the public spectacle, as she often did, preferring to remain out of the limelight. But today was different. Today, she would reveal herself in a way no one had ever expected.
The crowd fell silent as the executioner raised his axe, preparing to end Eddard Stark's life. Joffrey Baratheon, seated on the Iron Throne, looked on with a smug grin, eager to see the traitor's head fall.
"Kill him," Joffrey commanded, his voice dripping with venom.
The executioner swung the axe, but before it could make contact, a sudden wave of intense heat surged through the air. The onlookers recoiled, their faces contorted in shock and confusion. A brilliant flash of orange and red filled the square, the unmistakable crackle of flames sending a shiver through the crowd.
From the shadows, Annie Stark appeared, her small figure framed by towering flames that swirled around her like a tempest. Her long red hair glowed with an eerie light as she stepped forward, her emerald eyes glowing with a malevolent fire. Her small hands glowed with heat, and the air itself seemed to shudder in her wake.
"Stop," Annie's voice rang out, a childish lilt in her words, but there was no mistaking the deadly intent behind them. The flames swirled with her every movement, crackling with a violent energy as if reflecting her fury.
Her hands snapped up, and the chains binding her father disintegrated in an instant, the iron melting into molten pools on the ground. Eddard Stark, who had expected his death at any moment, was momentarily taken aback by the fiery spectacle, his eyes widening in disbelief.
Annie grinned at her father, a wide, unsettling grin that was anything but innocent. "Don't worry, Daddy," she cooed sweetly, her voice full of childish glee. "I'll take care of everything!"
Without another word, she raised both hands to the sky. Fire erupted from her fingertips in a searing blast, sweeping over the square like a wave. Soldiers who had been standing at attention froze in terror as the flames engulfed them. The executioner's axe, the guards, and the onlookers—everyone who had once stood in judgment of Eddard Stark was now nothing more than ash, consumed by the unstoppable flames Annie unleashed.
The fire swirled around her like a protective shield, never touching her family but scorching everything else in its path. Screams filled the air as the flames raced across the square, their heat unbearable. Those who tried to flee found themselves trapped, their escape routes cut off by the roaring inferno.
Joffrey Baratheon, sitting on his throne, watched in wide-eyed terror as the young Stark girl wreaked havoc upon his city. The flames consumed everything, leaving nothing but scorched earth behind. His own guards were incinerated before he could react, their screams drowned out by the roar of the fire.
Annie's eyes burned with sadistic joy as she watched the destruction unfold. She was no longer the innocent little girl who had once played in the gardens of Winterfell. She was something darker now—something unstoppable. She reveled in the chaos, her voice high and bubbly, as if she were playing a game.
"Oops," she giggled, her laughter echoing in the charred remains of King's Landing. "Looks like they're all gone. But don't worry, Daddy, you're safe now!"
As the last of the flames died down, only a handful of people remained alive in the square—Eddard Stark and his children. The charred bodies of the soldiers, the nobles, and even the innocent bystanders lay scattered around them. The square, once a place of public judgment, was now a desolate wasteland.
Eddard Stark stood frozen, his heart still pounding from the shock of what had just transpired. He looked down at his daughter, whose face was beaming with joy, as if she had just won a prize. The flames that had engulfed the city seemed to have no lasting effect on her, her skin unscathed, her smile innocent yet terrifying.
"Annie," Eddard said, his voice trembling, unsure of what to think or say. "What have you done?"
Annie looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes, her expression nothing short of pure happiness. "I saved you, Daddy!" she exclaimed, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. "I didn't want you to die, so I made sure they couldn't hurt you. Now we can all go home."
Her words were cheerful, but there was an undeniable cruelty in her tone—a viciousness that contrasted with her childlike demeanor. She had wiped out everyone in her path, without hesitation or remorse. The innocent and the guilty, the soldiers and the nobility, all had fallen beneath her flames.
Annie turned to her siblings, her eyes alight with mischief. "Let's go, everyone!" she urged, her voice full of excitement. "We've got a lot of fun things to do now!"
As they made their way away from the burning remains of King's Landing, Annie's eyes glinted with a dark excitement. She had saved her family, but at what cost? The city lay in ruin, and the once-great city of King's Landing had been reduced to ash by the hand of a child. But to Annie, it didn't matter. She had her family, and that was all that mattered. Everyone else? They didn't matter at all.
The Stark family had been spared, but King's Landing would never be the same.