Theon G

The snow fell softly on the towers of Winterfell, blanketing the rooftops in a brilliant white. The fortress walls buzzed with life and laughter, a reflection of the peace that had reigned in the Seven Kingdoms for years. Inside the great hall, the warmth of the hearth filled the air, and the aroma of freshly cooked stew mingled with the sounds of lively conversation.

Theon sat near the fire, holding his young son in his arms. The child had his eyes, warm and full of life, but his dark, tousled hair was a reflection of his father. Theon spoke softly to the boy, who tried to grasp the kraken insignia on the collar of his robes with his tiny hands.

You were nearby, gently adjusting the baby's blankets. Despite the emotional scars of the past, Winterfell had transformed Theon, giving him back a part of himself you thought was lost. He had become a devoted husband and a protective father.