The cold wind of the North cut through the air as the Stark family, weary from their harrowing escape from King's Landing, approached the towering walls of Winterfell. The journey had been long and exhausting, yet the sight of the ancestral home brought a sense of relief to Eddard Stark and his children. The haunting events of the last few days—fire, blood, and destruction—seemed distant now, as the familiar, snow-covered landscape welcomed them back.
Annie, perched on her father's horse, looked ahead with wide eyes, her expression a mixture of childish excitement and unspoken intensity. The fire that had raged inside her since King's Landing had dimmed for now, but there was an uncontained restlessness about her. She twirled her fingers absently, and tiny sparks of flame danced above her hand, unnoticed by the rest of the family. Her fiery powers were unpredictable, an ever-present reminder of the chaos that followed in her wake.
Eddard Stark rode at the front, his gaze fixed on the walls of Winterfell, though his mind was still occupied with the events of the past days. His thoughts lingered on the lives they had left behind, the destruction they had caused, and the tenuous future that awaited them. He had saved his daughters, and that was the only victory he could hold onto. But the question of what kind of world they would return to lingered. The Lannisters were defeated, but the realm was still fractured, and the Targaryens—who once posed a threat—were now a ghost in the wind.
Behind him, Sansa and Arya rode in silence, both haunted by their own thoughts. Sansa, ever the dutiful daughter, had been a quiet presence since their departure from King's Landing, her once bright eyes now shaded by the weight of everything she had witnessed. Arya, the younger of the two, had grown more distant in her own way, her memories of King's Landing a fire in her chest that no amount of snow could extinguish. The sisters exchanged an occasional glance, but neither spoke. There was a distance between them now that hadn't been there before.
Jon Snow, who had been with the Night's Watch when news of the Starks' return to the North reached him, had made his way back to Winterfell at a pace that matched his growing anxiety. He had long known of Annie's unpredictable powers, but to hear the stories of what had transpired in King's Landing had sent a chill down his spine. The last time he had seen her, she had been a small child, playful and innocent. Now, she was someone entirely different, a dangerous force wrapped in the guise of a girl who sought only affection from her family.
As they neared the gates, the guards stood at attention, their faces a mix of surprise and concern at the sight of their returning family. Winterfell had always been a place of strength, but after the destruction of King's Landing, the people of the North would not know what to expect from the Starks now.
The gates creaked open, and Eddard urged his horse forward, entering the courtyard with a quiet determination. The rest followed, the heavy sound of hooves on the stone echoing in the stillness of Winterfell.
Annie's eyes lit up at the sight of the great hall ahead. She hadn't been back to Winterfell in what felt like forever, and the familiar sights of home sent a wave of comfort through her, if only for a moment. She leaned forward on the horse, glancing up at her father, her voice light and innocent. "Papa, do you think we can play when we get inside?" she asked, her face the picture of childish innocence.
Eddard's gaze softened as he glanced down at her. He reached out a hand to her, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "Not today, Annie," he said gently. "We need to speak with the people of Winterfell. There's much to discuss."
Annie pouted but said nothing more, her small hands playing with the reins absentmindedly. Her mood shifted with ease—just as unpredictable as the flames she could conjure. In moments like this, she was a child again, eager to feel loved and safe.
Inside the hall, the family dismounted, and servants hurried to assist them, offering hot drinks and blankets. The Stark children were ushered inside, while Eddard remained behind for a moment, exchanging a few quiet words with the captain of the guards. There was a new tension in the air, one that even the warmth of Winterfell couldn't chase away. The world outside was uncertain, and the Starks' place in it was far from secure.
As the family gathered around the hearth, Eddard couldn't help but glance at Annie. Her eyes were shining, but there was something dangerous lurking beneath that youthful exterior. He feared the girl she would become, though he loved her with all his heart. He had saved her from King's Landing, but he wondered, at what cost?
"Father, are we safe here?" Arya asked, her voice more serious than it had been before. The girl who had once been carefree now carried a heaviness that was impossible to ignore.
"For now, we are," Eddard said, his voice steady but filled with uncertainty. "But there is much we must do to secure the North."
Jon Snow stood at the edge of the hearth, his gaze lingering on Annie. Her fiery powers had caused the destruction of King's Landing, a feat that left a stain on his heart. She had killed for no reason other than her own twisted sense of justice. The memory of her actions haunted him—she had spared no one. Yet, she was family.
Jon didn't speak to her directly, but his eyes met Eddard's. The father saw the concern in his son's gaze. Jon had always been the one to speak his mind, to ask the hard questions that others might hesitate to voice.
"Father," Jon began, his voice careful, "Annie... she's changed."
Eddard sighed, his shoulders heavy. "I know, Jon. I know."
Annie, oblivious to their conversation, sat by the fire, playing with the flames in her hands, her face lit by the flickering light. She seemed to be in her own world—one that no one could touch, no one could understand. Her innocence had been shattered, but she was still just a child, even if the flames within her burned with the fury of a thousand battles.
"Will she always be like this?" Jon asked, his voice filled with concern.
"I don't know," Eddard said quietly. "But we will protect her. We will protect each other. That is all we can do now."
The Starks had returned to Winterfell, but nothing would ever be the same. The North was theirs, but the world outside would never forget what had happened in King's Landing. The fire that Annie had ignited there would continue to burn in the hearts of their enemies. And as the family settled into the hall, the fire in Annie's hands flickered, casting long shadows across the walls of Winterfell.