Dragons.
A species that ended the wars of the Seven Kingdoms before Aegon's Conquest, only to vanish with the fall of the Targaryen dynasty.
Now, a living dragon—even stranger than the legends—stood right before them.
In the heart of the North, Winterfell.
They couldn't comprehend it.
Why would a dragon appear in the North?
This was... simply absurd.
The blood-red head on the right was clearly enjoying the terror of these two strangers.
A threatening gurgle rumbled in its throat as it took a step forward, baring a mouth full of fine, razor-sharp teeth.
"In the name of the Old Gods and the New..."
Robb instinctively placed his hand on his sword hilt, shielding Maester Luwin behind him.
He could feel the scorching heat radiating from the monster, and a fear stemming from deep within his blood.
"Lykirī."
Lynn spoke the word calmly.
The temperamental red head froze mid-motion, shaking itself unwillingly.
Finally, under Lynn's gaze, it reluctantly retreated and lay back down on the floor.
This scene shocked Robb even more than the dragon's existence itself.
Lynn... he could command a dragon!
Maester Luwin's lips trembled, and he had to lean on the table to steady himself.
His wise eyes were now filled only with shock.
He pointed at "Dark Sister" at Lynn's waist, then at Winter on the floor, his voice cracking.
"A Targaryen sword... a Targaryen dragon..."
"Lynn, you..."
He wanted to ask, but didn't know where to begin.
Who exactly was Lynn?
How many secrets did he hide that could overturn their understanding of the world?
"His name is Winter."
Lynn offered no explanation for the sword. He simply reached out and gently stroked the smooth scales of Winter's central head.
"I brought him back from beyond the Wall."
His gaze turned to Robb, his tone becoming solemn.
"I am about to head south to King's Landing. Winter is still too weak; I cannot take him to that place."
"I need a sanctuary."
"A place absolutely safe and absolutely secret to foster him."
The room fell silent again.
Robb's expression shifted rapidly.
Foster a dragon?
In Winterfell?
His first reaction was absurdity, refusal.
This was madness!
"Lynn, do you know what you are saying?"
Robb's voice was dry.
"This is a dragon!"
"If word gets out, do you realize the storm it will cause?"
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.
"King Robert hates everything Targaryen to the bone."
"If he learns the North is hiding a dragon, what will he think?"
"He will think House Stark intends to raise a new Dragon King. He will think we have betrayed him!"
"The entire continent of Westeros will see the North as an enemy!"
Maester Luwin recovered from his shock as well.
He nodded repeatedly, his face full of worry.
"Robb is right."
"Dragons are symbols of power, but they are also the fuse of war."
"This is too dangerous, Lynn. The risk is immense."
"I know."
Lynn's answer was unexpectedly calm.
"I know Robert Baratheon's character better than you do."
"That is why this must remain a secret between us."
Lynn looked at Robb.
"Robb, your father's situation in King's Landing is far more dangerous than you imagine."
"That city is a battlefield more terrifying than the frozen wastes beyond the Wall."
"I go south to help him, and to help the North."
"And Winter... Winter is our trump card."
Lynn lowered his voice.
"He is weak now, but he is growing."
"One day, he will be a true dragon."
"Imagine when the Long Night falls, when the army of the White Walkers breaches the Wall... or if the North goes to war with the Lannisters."
"What will the North use to defend itself?"
"The flesh and blood of our soldiers?"
"Or a giant dragon breathing fire?"
Every word Lynn spoke struck a chord in Robb's heart.
The White Walkers...
He had heard Lynn describe them before.
Later, ravens had confirmed it.
Those monsters that ordinary steel could not kill, that terrible magic that turned the dead into their kin.
That was the true existential threat to the North.
Compared to that destined war, the power struggles in King's Landing seemed trivial.
Robb's breathing grew heavy.
He looked at the three-headed hatchling on the floor, then at Lynn.
Lynn's strength was the North's strength.
He understood this logic.
An ally with a dragon was of inestimable value.
The North needed this power.
House Stark needed this power.
"I understand."
After a long silence, Robb finally spoke, his eyes now resolute.
It seemed he had made his decision.
"The First Keep is the oldest part of Winterfell. It has been abandoned for centuries."
"It connects to the crypts below and has a secret passage leading outside the walls."
"It is sturdy enough, and secret enough."
"I will give the order to seal it off completely. It will be forbidden ground."
"Apart from the three of us, no fourth person will know of its existence. Not even my mother."
Maester Luwin opened his mouth as if to speak.
But seeing the unquestionable look in Robb's eyes, he simply sighed.
Robb had grown up.
He was no longer the boy trailing behind Lord Eddard.
He had begun to think and decide like a Lord.
"What about food?"
Maester Luwin raised a practical question.
"A dragon's appetite must be astonishing."
"I will handle it." Robb looked at Lynn, giving his promise.
"I will claim we are expanding or renovating. Supplies will be moved to the First Keep daily."
"Winterfell's best livestock, the freshest meat. There will be enough."
Lynn looked at the young man before him, feeling a warmth in his heart.
He hadn't misjudged him.
Nor had he misjudged House Stark.
When trouble came, they truly stood by you.
Robb Stark, though young, already possessed the qualities of a capable leader.
"Winter's temperament... will he cause destruction?"
Robb was still a bit uneasy.
The red-eyed head didn't look like a peaceful creature.
"Don't worry." Lynn smiled.
"He is smart, and he understands commands."
He crouched down, looking into Winter's three pairs of mismatched eyes, and spoke in a low voice, using the language with its ancient rhythm:
"Valyrīha, ñuha dārilaros."
(Wait quietly, my prince.)
"Skorkydoso glaesā, skorkydoso jikās."
(Eat well, grow strong.)
"Ao ynoma iōrās."
(You must stay inside.)
Winter's three heads tilted simultaneously.
Confusion flickered in the amber, blue, and red eyes.
But they emitted a submissive low hum, as if in response.
Lynn stood up and patted Robb on the shoulder.
"Then, I leave him in your care."
"Rest assured." Robb nodded heavily.
"He is the hope of the North. Since I have chosen to care for him, I will protect him as I would protect Bran."
And so, it was settled.
Lynn left Winter at Winterfell, in the hands of a trusted ally.
That very night, citing a structural safety inspection, Robb personally led his most loyal guards to clear out the "First Keep," which had been abandoned for hundreds of years.
He sealed it from the outside with massive stones and iron gates.
Only an inconspicuous small door, hidden in a corner covered with vines, remained accessible. Robb kept the key himself.
At the same time, Robb began quietly shifting guards to patrol the area.
From then on, Winterfell held one more deep secret.
And Lynn could finally embark on his journey south without worry.
Standing at the window of the Guest House, Lynn looked out at the Kingsroad shrouded in night, his gaze growing dark.
Unlike the straightforward dealings of the North...
King's Landing was a true pit of vipers, a fame-and-fortune arena that swallowed people whole without spitting out the bones.
This time, he was no longer an insignificant Night's Watch deserter.
He was an envoy entrusted with a heavy burden by Lord Commander Mormont.
He was a warrior wielding two legendary swords, Longclaw and Dark Sister.
And more than that... he was a cheater.
He could use skinchanging to secretly incite conflict.
He could use greensight to see his enemies' moves clearly.
He wanted to see.
Were those clever people in King's Landing, who prided themselves as "players," ready to welcome him—the true variable?
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