Deep within the Frostfang Mountains, beyond the world of men, an eternal glacier swallowed a canyon whole.
Locked beneath its shimmering surface were bones—massive, coiling bones that glinted faintly blue under the ice.
Not giants. Not direwolves.
Lynn knew what they were the moment the dream showed them. He had seen their shapes only once before—in a book Tyrion Lannister had loaned him by firelight. Even frozen for a thousand years, they were unmistakable.
Dragon bones.
The Three‑Eyed Raven's voice echoed quietly through his mind.
"Not all the dragons died, child. Some flew north—back to the grave that birthed them. Their resting place hums with ancient power."
The vision shifted, sinking into the glacier's depths. There, in a hollow of melting ice, lay an egg. Smooth, dark, scaled like obsidian—sleeping as if waiting for something only he could awaken.
"There is something waiting for you," the raven said. Its voice trembled under the strain. "It belongs only to you. It will answer only you. Find it—perhaps then you will understand which path your fate truly follows."
The cave began to shatter into light.
"Unforeseeable child," whispered the raven, fading from sight. "You are a sword of two edges—able to cut down darkness, or to turn upon the hand that wields you. Choice is yours. But your choice will weigh on the lives of thousands."
The green light broke apart, and the dream collapsed.
Lynn jolted awake.
The tent was pitch‑black. The campfire had long gone out; only dying embers glowed faintly by the wall.
He sat up, heart beating hard, the echo of the raven's last words still ringing in his skull. His wounds tugged sharply as if to remind him he was back in flesh, in the world that still bled and breathed. He groped for a wooden cup and drank greedily, washing the taste of smoke from his mouth.
"The burial ground of dragons," he murmured. "Something… waiting for me."
He barely had time to gather the thought before dawn trickled through the flap.
Ygritte's red hair caught the pale light as she pushed inside. "Finally awake? How's the shoulder?"
"Better," Lynn said quickly. Too quickly—he didn't want another visit from that soup.
Then an odd seriousness crossed his eyes. "Ygritte—if you had to do something impossible, something that could change the world… and you weren't sure if it was right—what would you do?"
She tilted her head, thinking for a heartbeat, then grinned. "Easy. Ask one question first—will it keep me and the people I love alive? If yes, I'll do it. The rest is for the gods to worry over."
She left humming, the smell of breakfast following her—thank the gods, not her cooking.
Stay alive.
Protect those who matter.
Simple words. But in that moment, they felt like the only truth that still made sense. Whatever the vision meant—whatever doom the raven had seen—his purpose, for now, was clear: keep them alive. Keep the North alive.
When Lynn returned to Castle Black, the blizzards had risen again.
Lord Commander Jeor Mormont waited for him in the chamber atop the tower. The fire cracked, filling the silence with heat that did nothing against the chill that had settled in his tone.
"So," Mormont said at last. "Mance Rayder will talk."
"He will," Lynn said, spreading the map. "But he wants proof. He needs to see the Watch's good faith—that a home in the North is more than a story. Only then will he order his clans to stand down."
Mormont leaned over the map, the shadows of the flames rippling across his face. "And you think we have homes to give? Provisions to feed them? The Watch can barely arm its own men."
He circled a finger over several dots etched in charcoal. "Oakshield. Long Night Fort. Stonegate. Ruins, all of them. Crumbling walls full of ghosts. Maybe habitable if rebuilt—but by whom? With what?"
"They don't need palaces," Lynn replied. "They have builders, smiths, hunters—more skill than we give them credit for. All they need are food and tools to start."
"Food and tools?" Mormont's voice rose a notch. "You've seen our storerooms. My blacksmiths melt chamber pots to make spearheads. And you'd have me feed an army of wildlings?"
The quartermaster's thin voice joined in. "The garrison barely has enough grain to last till spring—if spring even comes! You bring in tens of thousands and we'll all starve before the equinox."
From the corner, Alliser Thorne's familiar sneer twisted. "Let him promise Southron charity all he wants. The lords of the North will never share their harvests with thieves. And Lord Eddard is gone. You think his boy and a tired old knight can command the bannermen?"
The door opened before Mormont could reply.
Iron clattered on stone. Fur‑lined boots struck the hall floor.
"Maybe I can."
Robb Stark stepped through, taller and sterner than the boy who'd once laughed in Winterfell's yard. Behind him came Ser Rodrik Cassel, beard white with frost, and four Northern guards.
"Lord Robb," Mormont said, surprised. "We didn't expect the heir of Winterfell."
"I couldn't sit in my hall while you faced this alone," Robb said firmly. "My father told me before he left—keep the North safe at any cost. If the Free Folk are willing to talk instead of bleed, then we talk."
Thorne scoffed. "They haven't laid down their blades yet."
"But they're willing to," Ser Rodrik snapped, stepping between them. "That's more progress than the last hundred years have seen. Tell me, ser—if they storm the Wall, you think your jeers will hold it?"
The hall went quiet. No one dared say yes.
---
Two days later, under skies turned bronze by dusk, the first shadows of riders appeared before the Wall.
Mance Rayder had come—with only six at his side. Tormund. Ygritte. Four chosen guards.
True to his word, he'd brought no weapons. But the air around him carried the weight of a king without crown or armor—a flame that made lesser men grip their spears tighter.
The black‑cloaked watchmen on the gate shifted uneasily as the wooden creak of the portcullis filled the wind.
Inside, the courtyard was still as frost.
Robb Stark, Jeor Mormont, and Lynn Auger waited before the gate.
"Now," Mance said, meeting Lynn's gaze with a wry smile, "I believe it's time we finally talked."