Lynn and his company rode back toward Winterfell.
Along the way, Lynn did nothing but ride and train his body.
Attribute points could be increased through hard work, and he refused to waste a single moment that could be used for improvement.
Time slipped away quietly during the monotonous journey.
Finally, the massive grey silhouette of Winterfell appeared once more on the horizon.
On the ramparts, the direwolf banners snapped in the cold wind, as if welcoming their return.
The arrival of the company caused a stir at the gates.
Robb Stark and Ser Rodrik Cassel hurried out upon hearing the news.
But when they saw the approaching men clearly, their steps slowed involuntarily.
This company was nothing like the one that had left.
Every soldier rode in silence, their movements synchronized and disciplined.
Lynn, riding at the fore, felt indescribably foreign to them.
His expression remained calm.
But in his eyes, something profound had settled deep within.
Most striking were the two longswords at his hip.
One they recognized—Longclaw, the Valyrian steel sword gifted by the Old Bear, though the bear-head pommel had been replaced with a wolf's head.
The ravens had already carried news of this.
But the other...
Robb's breath caught in his throat.
A slender blade with a hilt of black jade carved into a dragon's head. He had only seen such a weapon in the illustrations of ancient tomes.
The ancestral sword of House Targaryen—Dark Sister!
How did such a thing end up on Lynn's hip?
"Lynn!"
Robb pushed down the turmoil in his heart and strode forward to greet him.
"You've returned!"
Lynn dismounted and nodded to Robb and Ser Rodrik.
"How is Bran?" Lynn asked the question closest to his heart immediately.
"He is well."
Mentioning his brother, a warmth softened Robb's tense face.
"Maester Luwin says he is recovering quickly. He can already walk a few steps holding onto the wall."
Hearing this, Lynn felt a weight lift from his chest.
Just then, Arya leaped from her pony like an agile cat and rushed straight into Robb's arms.
"Robb!"
"Arya?" Robb caught his little sister in a delighted embrace.
Arya wriggled free, her face beaming with unconcealed pride.
"We went to the Wall! And beyond the Wall!"
"We killed so many Wildlings, and Lynn killed a... a terrible monster!"
The little girl gestured wildly, her descriptions chaotic but filled with sheer worship for Lynn.
Robb and Ser Rodrik exchanged glances, their gaze upon Lynn growing even more complicated.
How many secrets was this man hiding?
---
Lynn went to see Bran first.
The once lively boy now sat quietly in a chair. The view outside the window no longer tempted him to climb.
Clearly, that "accidental" fall had left an indelible shadow on his heart.
Lynn gave him Jon's letter and conveyed Jon's longing for him.
Seeing the long-lost smile on Bran's face, Lynn felt relieved.
A Bran who didn't become the Three-Eyed Raven was still that lovable Stark child.
Bran didn't know that his fate had been completely rewritten by the man standing before him.
He would not be paralyzed again, nor would he be targeted by the Three-Eyed Raven.
In this life, he could live peacefully as Robb's bannerman.
Lynn was given the most spacious room in the Guest House.
The fire in the hearth roared, and hot water flowed through the pipes in the walls, keeping the room as warm as spring.
Winter loved this temperature.
Though it preferred to burrow into the furs, curling up on the bear-skin rug before the fire, its three heads dozing contentedly.
In just a few days, its size had ballooned as if inflated.
It was now the size of a half-grown hound.
Its scales shimmered with a dreamlike cyan-blue luster in the firelight.
The once-weak forelimbs had grown thick and powerful.
When its claws occasionally scraped across the rug in its sleep, they left deep gouges.
The personalities of the three heads were becoming distinct.
The central head with amber eyes was the most steady.
It spent most of its time sleeping. Occasionally, it would open its eyes and study Lynn with a scrutinizing gaze.
It gave Lynn the illusion that it was thinking.
The left head with deep blue eyes was a diligent sentry.
It was always alert. Any disturbance would make it crane its neck, emitting a low, threatening growl.
As for the right head with blood-red eyes, it remained the definition of violence and greed.
It was either tearing at the rug or trying to gnaw on the table legs, as if its world consisted of only two things:
Destruction and feeding.
Lynn sat at the table, holding the ancient Valyrian text left by Maester Aemon, murmuring the old words in a very low voice.
"Lykirī." (Calm down.)
As soon as the words left his mouth, the red-eyed head, poised to bite a chair, froze.
It shook its head impatiently, its red eyes full of reluctance.
But under Lynn's gentle gaze, it eventually slunk back down, emitting a disgruntled gurgle.
For now, they were finally quiet.
The corners of Lynn's mouth turned up slightly.
The little thing was temperamental, but obedient enough.
A moment later, a knock came at the door.
"Lynn, it's me, Robb."
Lynn raised an eyebrow.
"I'm here. Come in."
The door opened.
Robb Stark and Maester Luwin walked in, one after the other.
Their gazes immediately fell upon the two swords at Lynn's waist.
Especially "Dark Sister" with its black jade dragon hilt.
The ancient sharpness it radiated seemed to add weight to the very air in the room.
"Lynn, I have to say, you brought us quite a surprise this time."
Robb's tone was complicated.
He walked up to Lynn, his eyes searching.
"Lord Commander Mormont gifting you 'Longclaw', I can understand. But this one..."
His eyes fixed on Dark Sister.
"If I'm not mistaken, this is an ancestral sword of House Targaryen."
Maester Luwin stepped forward as well, his grey eyes filled with scholarly rigor and obsession.
He leaned in, examining the dragon carving on the hilt and the unique ripples on the blade.
He was so excited that his fingers trembled beneath his grey sleeves.
"Gods be good, it truly is Dark Sister..."
"Lost for nearly a century..."
Maester Luwin looked up.
"Where... where did you find it?"
Lynn simply smiled and didn't answer.
He reached out and patted the books on the table.
"A gift from an old friend."
His movement woke the little creatures on the rug.
"Come, meet someone."
The central head with amber eyes lifted groggily and yawned.
"Is that..."
Robb's attention was drawn to it.
He saw the head of a strange creature poking out from under the furs, its molten gold eyes looking at him curiously.
"What is that strange creature?"
Robb frowned.
It looked too bizarre.
Covered in scales.
On the journey back, to avoid prying eyes, Winter had been kept in a covered cage. This was the first time Robb had seen it.
However, in the next second.
The left head with deep blue eyes suddenly burst out from under another fur, letting out a hostile hiss at the two intruders.
Immediately after, the right head with blood-red eyes emerged as well, baring a mouth full of serrated fangs, black smoke curling from its jaws.
Thump!
The furs were thrown aside completely by the three heads, sliding to the floor.
A complete monster possessing three heads, four legs, and a pair of menacing, folded wings was fully exposed to Robb and Maester Luwin.
The air in the room froze instantly.
The expression on Robb's face went from curiosity to confusion, then to horror, and finally blank shock.
He instinctively took a step back, his hand gripping his sword hilt, his body trembling slightly from the sheer impact of the sight.
"In the name of the Old Gods and the New..."
Maester Luwin's voice lost its calm.
The blood drained from his face, and eyes that had read countless tomes were now wide as saucers.
His prized reason and knowledge were shattered into pieces before this living magical creature.
"Dragon..."
Maester Luwin's lips quivered as he breathed the word.
"It is a dragon..."
No, it was more terrifying and more grotesque than a dragon.
Three heads!
This wasn't a dragon!
This was a monster crawled straight out of the Seven Hells!
Lynn stood up slowly, walked to Winter's side, and reached out to stroke its central head soothingly, as if petting a gentle kitten.
He looked at the dumbstruck Robb and spoke calmly.
"This is my greatest harvest from the trip."
"And as it happens, I have a favor to ask of you."
---