Dragon.
A species that ended the Seven Kingdoms' strife before Aegon's Conquest, then vanished with the Targaryen dynasty's fall.
Now—a living, even more bizarre dragon than legend described—appeared before them!
Appeared in the North's heart. Winterfell.
They simply couldn't understand.
Why would a dragon appear in the North?
This was... too absurd.
The right blood-red head clearly relished these two strangers' terror.
It released threatening rumbles from its throat, stepping forward, exposing mouthfuls of fine, sharp teeth.
"By the Old Gods and the New..."
Robb instinctively pressed his hand on his sword hilt, shielding Maester Luwin.
He could feel scorching breath from that monster, and primal fear from deep within his bloodline.
"Lykirī."
Lynn uttered a word lightly.
The violent crimson head paused, shaking its head unwillingly.
Finally, under Lynn's gaze, it reluctantly retreated, lying back down.
This scene shocked Robb more than the dragon's existence itself.
Lynn... he can command a dragon!
Maester Luwin's lips trembled. He steadied himself against the table.
Those wisdom-filled eyes now held only horror.
He pointed at Dark Sister at Lynn's waist, then at Winter on the floor, voice distorted.
"Targaryen sword... Targaryen dragon..."
"Lynn, you..."
He wanted to ask something, yet didn't know where to begin.
Who exactly is Lynn?
How many more secrets does he hide that overturn their understanding?
"Its name is Winter."
Lynn didn't explain the sword's origin, only reaching out to gently stroke the smooth scales of Winter's middle head.
"I brought it back from beyond the Wall."
His gaze turned to Robb, tone becoming solemn.
"I'm heading south to King's Landing soon. Winter is still too weak. I can't take it there."
"I need a place."
"An absolutely safe, absolutely secret place to foster it."
The room fell silent again.
Robb's expression changed repeatedly.
Foster a dragon?
At Winterfell?
His first reaction—absurd. Refusal.
This is too insane!
"Lynn, do you know what you're saying?"
Robb's voice somewhat hoarse.
"This is a dragon!"
"Once news leaks, what waves will it cause?"
He took a deep breath, forcing himself calm.
"King Robert despises everything Targaryen."
"If he learns the North harbors a dragon, what will he think?"
"He'll believe House Stark wants to support a new Dragon King. He'll think we've betrayed him!"
"Then the entire Westeros will view the North as enemy!"
Maester Luwin also recovered from shock.
He nodded repeatedly, face full of worry.
"Robb's right."
"Dragons symbolize power, but also become war's fuse."
"This is too dangerous, Lynn. The risk is too great."
"I know."
Lynn's answer—unexpectedly calm.
"I understand Robert Baratheon better than you."
"So this matter must become our secret."
Lynn looked at Robb.
"Robb, your father's situation in King's Landing is far more dangerous than you imagine."
"That place is a battlefield more terrifying than the frozen wastes beyond the Wall."
"I'm going south to help him, and for our North."
"And Winter—is our trump card."
Lynn's voice dropped very low.
"It's still weak now, but it's growing."
"Someday, it will become a true dragon."
"Imagine—when the Long Night comes, when the White Walkers' army breaks through the Wall, or when the North goes to war with the Lannisters."
"What will the North use to resist?"
"Soldiers' flesh and blood?"
"Or a dragon that can breathe dragonflame?"
Every word struck Robb's heart.
White Walkers...
He'd heard Lynn describe them before.
Later confirmed through ravens.
Monsters that couldn't be killed by ordinary weapons. Terrifying magic that could convert the dead into their kind.
That was the North's true mortal threat.
Compared to that inevitable war, King's Landing's power struggles seemed less important.
Robb's breathing grew heavy.
He looked at the three-headed hatchling on the floor, then at Lynn.
Lynn's strength is the North's strength.
This principle—he understood.
An ally who possesses a dragon—invaluable.
The North needs this power.
House Stark needs this power.
"I understand."
After a long while, Robb finally spoke, eyes already incredibly resolute.
Seems he'd made his decision.
"Winterfell's oldest First Keep was abandoned centuries ago."
"It connects to underground crypts, and has a secret passage leading outside the castle."
"It's solid enough, and secret enough."
"I'll order it completely sealed, declared forbidden ground."
"Besides us three, no fourth person will know of its existence. Not even my mother."
Maester Luwin opened his mouth, seeming to want to say something.
But seeing Robb's unquestionable gaze, it finally became a sigh.
Robb has grown up.
No longer the boy following Lord Eddard.
He's begun learning to think and decide like a lord.
"What about food?"
Maester Luwin raised a practical question.
"A dragon's appetite will surely be astonishing."
"I'll handle it." Robb looked at Lynn, giving his promise.
"I'll use expansion as an excuse, having people transport supplies to the First Keep daily."
"Winterfell's finest livestock, freshest meat. Plenty."
Lynn looked at the youth before him, warmth rising in his heart.
He hadn't misjudged.
Hadn't misjudged House Stark either.
Truly helping when difficulties arise.
Robb Stark—though young—already possessed the potential to become a qualified leader.
"Winter's temperament... it won't cause destruction?"
Robb still somewhat uneasy.
That blood-red head didn't look docile.
"Don't worry." Lynn smiled.
"It's smart. Understands commands."
He crouched down, looking at Winter's three differently colored eyes, speaking in a low language carrying ancient rhythm:
"Valyrīha, ūhadārilaros."
(Wait quietly, my prince.)
"Skorkydoso glaesā, skorkydoso jikās."
(Eat what's given, do what's told.)
"Ao yn maiorās."
(You must stay inside.)
Winter's three heads tilted simultaneously.
Amber, glacial-blue, and blood-red eyes all showed confusion.
But they still obediently released low hums, as if responding.
Lynn stood, patting Robb's shoulder.
"Then I entrust it to you."
"Don't worry." Robb nodded heavily.
"It's the North's hope. Since I've chosen to care for it, I'll protect it like I protect Bran."
The matter was settled.
Lynn left Winter at Winterfell, entrusted to a reliable ally.
That night, Robb—using structural safety inspection as pretext—personally led his trusted guard to completely clear that centuries-abandoned "First Keep."
Sealed from outside with massive stones and iron doors.
Only one inconspicuous small door, hidden in a vine-covered corner, key personally kept by Robb.
Simultaneously, Robb continuously deployed forces there.
From then on, Winterfell held its deepest secret.
And Lynn could finally embark south without concerns.
Standing at the Guest Tower window, Lynn gazed at the Kingsway shrouded in night, eyes becoming profound.
Unlike the North's straightforward communication style.
King's Landing—that was a true arena devouring people without spitting bones.
This time, he was no longer an insignificant Night's Watch deserter.
He was an envoy entrusted with important mission by Lord Commander Mormont.
A warrior bearing two legendary swords—Longclaw and Dark Sister.
More—a... cheater.
He could even use skinchanging to secretly incite conflict.
Use greensight to discern enemies' movements.
He'd see.
Whether those clever people in King's Landing who consider themselves "players" are ready to welcome him—this true variable.
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