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"You blame your father for dumping you here?"
Lynn pointed at Grenn. "He was three when his father left him outside a farm to die."
His gaze swept to the others. "Pyp stole cheese because his sister hadn't eaten in three days. It was either the Wall or lose his hand."
Grenn and Pyp stared at Lynn, bewildered. How does he know?
Seeing Lynn defend them, Jon bristled. "They hate me! They ambushed me because they couldn't beat me fair!"
Lynn nodded. "You are better than them. Not everyone gets Ser Rodrik's personal training. These two? I guarantee they never touched a real sword before coming here."
He paused. "Still think you're so superior?"
Jon froze. I only beat commoners. What's there to be proud of?
Everyone at the Wall had their own burdens. They weren't as contemptible as he'd thought.
Seeing Jon reflect, Lynn knew he understood. Better to drop the prejudice and fit in than fight everyone.
This would help Jon bond with his brothers. And let Lynn take Longclaw with a clear conscience.
Lynn clapped Jon's shoulder and gestured at Grenn and Pyp. "Teach them what Rodrik taught you. Train them. You'll have real friends soon enough."
Tyrion, arms crossed, watched with something like admiration in his mismatched eyes.
"You're fascinating, Lynn. You should be High Septon, not stuck in this frozen hell."
Lynn ignored the quip, keeping his eyes on Jon.
Jon's face flushed red and white. He'd thought taking the black meant abandoning everything Stark. Now he realized—he'd never truly let go.
Grenn and Pyp hung their heads. Their resentment had melted after Lynn's words.
"Let's go." Lynn patted Jon's shoulder.
Jon nodded silently.
"My Lord, a raven from Winterfell."
A brother handed Mormont a small roll of parchment. The Old Bear unrolled it by the firelight. His wrinkled face softened.
"Good news." He looked at Benjen and Maester Aemon. "Bran Stark is walking with crutches."
Benjen's face lit up. "The Old Gods be praised!"
Aemon smiled, sensing the joy even without sight.
When Jon heard, his body jolted. Bran... the little brother who followed me everywhere, who dreamed of knighthood. Who fell from the tower and wouldn't wake. He's walking?
Wild joy shattered the gloom he'd carried. He stood, wanting to share this.
But looking around, he saw only numb, indifferent faces. No one here could understand.
His heart sank. He thought of Bran, Robb, Arya, Rickon. Winterfell's warm hearth. His family's smiles.
He drained his ale. The cold liquid slid down his throat.
"Drinking alone is a bad habit."
Tyrion sat across from him, pouring himself wine and refilling Jon's cup.
"To Bran Stark." Tyrion raised his glass.
Jon clinked cups without a word. Clink.
"You don't look happy. Your brother's walking. Isn't that wonderful?"
"I..." Jon opened his mouth. Nothing came out.
He was happy. But more than that—guilty. His family needed him, and he'd fled to the end of the world.
Tyrion seemed to read his mind. "You blame your father?"
Jon shook his head.
"Yourself, then?"
Silence.
Tyrion pulled out a sealed letter and slid it across. "What's this?"
"Boring advice. How to survive here and stay human."
Jon stared at the envelope without reaching for it.
Tyrion smiled and stood. "Don't refuse yet. Maybe someday, you'll need it."
He wobbled off, leaving Jon alone with the letter.
Night deepened. Jon found Lynn cleaning his sword. Torren and other guards packed supplies—arrows, dried meat, waterskins.
Tomorrow, they'd leave for beyond the Wall.
"Lynn." Jon stood in the doorway, hesitant.
Lynn looked up. "Yes?"
"You're going to King's Landing. Will you pass through Winterfell?"
Lynn paused mid-wipe. Seeing Jon's hopeful eyes, he nodded. "Of course."
"Could you... tell Bran something for me?" Jon's voice trembled. "Tell him I think of him every day. That he has to stay strong."
Lynn stood and clapped Jon's shoulder hard. "I will."
Two simple words. Jon's eyes reddened. He nodded and left quickly.
Lynn watched until he disappeared.
"My Lord." Torren's voice pulled him back. "We're ready."
Lynn thought of the Northmen's reckless charging style. I need to set them straight.
He walked to the map, finger tracing. "Our target is here." He stopped at a marked area: Haunted Forest.
"Mormont says wildlings are active there. Listen carefully: never charge blindly. Wildlings are stronger than you. Use your heads. Don't throw your lives away."
He scanned each guard. "Poison. Traps. Arrows. Use everything. I don't want to lose a single man to those savages."
Not very Northern. But who doesn't want to live?
"Yes, my Lord!" Excited, suppressed roars filled the room.
Other lords preached honor, bravery, sacrifice—empty words. Lynn was different.
Lynn nodded and opened the window. Icy wind and snow blasted in. In the distance, the Wall loomed like a sleeping white dragon.
Beyond it, in the endless dark, countless experience points waited.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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