The cold, crisp air of Winterfell felt almost like a second home to Annie, the fire within her flickering as she scampered across the snow-dusted courtyard. Her red hair, as wild as her spirit, flew behind her in a fiery halo, and her emerald eyes sparkled with a mischievous light that couldn't be contained. Winterfell, so stark and ancient, had become her playground, and today she was determined to have as much fun as possible.
"Papa!" Annie shouted, her voice ringing through the stone halls as she dashed through the castle's corridors, her little feet barely leaving the ground. "Come play with me!"
Eddard Stark, seated at the long wooden table in the Great Hall, chuckled quietly to himself as he heard his daughter's excited voice. He had not expected his return to Winterfell to be so tumultuous, but he couldn't deny the joy that came from seeing his children safe once again. They had all been through so much, but there was still innocence in Annie, even if it was buried beneath the weight of the tragedy in King's Landing.
But today, she was a child again—full of energy, full of life.
Annie bounded into the Great Hall, her eyes immediately locking onto her father's. She grinned, her cheeks flushed from the cold, and in an instant, she was climbing onto his lap with a giggle. Eddard looked at her, his face a mixture of exhaustion and fondness. "What is it, little one?" he asked, though his tone was gentle, filled with a warmth he didn't often show.
Annie's hands were already sparking with small flickers of flame as she leaned forward, her tiny fingers tracing the fire that flickered above them. "I want to make a bonfire!" she exclaimed, her voice bubbling with excitement. "A big one! Like the one in King's Landing! But this time… no one's getting hurt!" She giggled at the idea, oblivious to the deeper implications of her words. She only wanted the fun, the excitement—the power to control the flames as she wished.
Eddard hesitated, but the sight of his daughter, so full of life and joy, made it hard for him to say no. "Not today, Annie," he said gently, brushing a strand of fiery red hair away from her face. "We need to keep things calm here, especially after everything that happened."
Annie pouted for a moment but then shrugged, jumping off his lap and running back toward the doors. "Okay, Papa. I'll go play outside then! You'll see! It'll be fun!"
Without waiting for a response, Annie dashed out of the room, her laughter echoing down the long corridors of Winterfell. Outside, the snow crunched beneath her boots as she ran to the courtyard, her cheeks flushed with excitement. She was a whirlwind of energy, bouncing off walls and leaping over piles of snow, her red hair dancing with each movement.
She stopped for a moment, staring at the open space before her. Winterfell's courtyard was vast, and the cold wind swirled through the high towers, but to Annie, it was a challenge waiting to be conquered. She clapped her hands, and a flicker of fire appeared between her fingers, dancing in the palm of her hand as she looked up at the looming walls. A wild grin spread across her face. "Let's make this fun," she muttered to herself, the fire growing hotter as her excitement mounted.
From the windows above, Jon Snow watched his youngest Stark sibling from a distance. He had never seen her like this—so carefree, so full of fire, in both the literal and figurative sense. It was as if the weight of what had happened in King's Landing had been temporarily forgotten, her playful energy filling the cold air. But Jon knew better. Annie's playful nature could switch to something darker, something dangerous, in an instant. Still, for now, he allowed himself to smile at the sight of her joy.
Meanwhile, Sansa and Arya made their way down the hallway, both sisters wrapped in furs, their steps light as they approached the courtyard to see what Annie was up to. They had seen her play with fire before, but never quite like this. Annie's relationship with her powers had always been something they struggled to understand. Sansa, ever the protective older sister, wasn't sure how to feel about it. She had seen the devastation Annie's fire could cause. And yet, when Annie was like this—bubbly and excited—it was almost as though everything that had happened before had never occurred.
Sansa watched from the doorway, arms crossed, her face softening as she observed Annie twirling in the snow. "She's always so full of energy," Sansa commented, her voice laced with affection. "She's like a fire that can't be contained."
Arya, standing next to her, gave a short laugh. "Maybe we should let her burn some of the snow down. Give her something to do." Her tone was half-joking, but there was a glint in her eyes. She had never been one to worry too much about consequences, but even Arya knew that Annie's fire, when unchecked, could be dangerous. Still, it was hard to ignore how much fun Annie seemed to be having.
Annie, noticing her sisters watching, waved at them enthusiastically, her small fire still flickering between her hands. "Come play with me!" she called, running toward them. "I'm going to make a big snow tower, and when I light it on fire, it will be so pretty!"
Both sisters exchanged a glance. Sansa took a deep breath and walked out into the courtyard, but Arya stayed back for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she observed Annie. She had no fear of her sister's powers—she had seen Annie's fire burn through King's Landing, after all—but there was something in Annie's eyes that hinted at the unpredictability of the girl she had once known.
Still, Sansa smiled at Annie's boundless joy, moving closer. "Alright, let's see what you've got, little firestarter."
Annie's eyes lit up as she eagerly dragged Sansa and Arya to the center of the courtyard. Without warning, she clapped her hands together, and a small flame erupted from her fingers, creating a blazing trail of fire that shot across the snow. She spun around, laughing wildly, as the flame traced its path in the air. "Watch this! I'll make it bigger!"
Jon, still watching from the window, chuckled quietly to himself. Despite the darkness of their recent past, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope. If nothing else, they were safe for now, and Annie was still his little sister—the one who could make everything feel a little less cold, even if her fire was something they all needed to keep in check.
As the fire blazed brightly against the backdrop of Winterfell's stone walls, a sense of peace settled over the courtyard. It wasn't the kind of peace that came from knowing everything was perfect, but it was the kind that could only come from family—a reminder that, no matter the storm, they would always have each other.
And as the flames danced in the air, so did the laughter of Annie, a child playing with fire, unburdened for a moment by the weight of the world.