Revenant.

They spoke often of the fire in the North, but few dared admit the truth of her beauty. Aelaria Stark was unlike any child born to Winterfell. Her eyes were bright and violet, like frozen stars rimmed with secrets; her hair a deep, blazing red that caught the light like living flame. Her skin bore the warmth of the South, darker than the pale shades of her kin, and at her temple lay a mark no one could ignore-a pale kiss of ice upon her brow, brighter than the rest of her skin, as if winter itself had tried to lay claim to her.

They whispered she was an omen, and a bad one at that. On the night of her birth, fire-strange and sudden-rose in the North, tearing through timber and hall alike, stealing lives that should have endured the winter. From that day on, Aelaria, daughter of Lyos Stark, second son of the house, was branded unlucky, her very name carrying the echo of ash and ill-tidings.

And yet, for all the suspicion and fear that followed her steps, she glowed too fiercely to fade into shadow. She longed to be snow, unseen and unremarkable, to disappear into the stone and frost of her kin. But she burned too brightly, her beauty as undeniable as the whispers that clung to her. The question lingered always in the air around her: would her fire prove the gift the North never asked for, or the doom it always feared?

Jacaerys Valeryon x OC

P.s the timeline has slightly shifted