Winter's Descent
That dragon's roar—full of a child's joy and grievance upon seeing its father.
The sky-blotting beast dove from the heavens. The gale sent the party tumbling.
Guards raised shields in terror. Warhorses whinnied anxiously.
Only Storm beneath Lynn remained steady as a mountain.
Myrcella clung desperately to Lynn's waist. Face buried in his chest. Eyes squeezed shut.
BOOM—!
The dragon landed a hundred meters ahead. The ground trembled.
Its size—far more terrifying up close.
Over ten meters long. Like a moving hill.
Ice-blue scales shimmered metallic in sunlight. Each the size of a shield.
Most heart-stopping—three ferocious dragon heads.
No longer brawling. The middle head—largest—lowered. The two smaller flanked left and right.
Six molten-gold vertical pupils gazed curiously—with a hint of timidity—at Lynn and the golden-haired little one in his arms.
"Winter."
Lynn spoke in Valyrian.
The dragon whimpered softly. The middle head inched closer cautiously.
Its battering-ram-sized skull stopped a few meters from Lynn.
Then—slowly, gently—pressed its snout against Lynn's chest. Nuzzled.
Like a giant dog begging for affection.
The side heads weren't content. They jostled forward.
One rubbed Lynn's arm. The other tried licking his cheek.
Hot breath sprayed Myrcella's face. She scrunched her neck, ticklish.
Everyone stared dumbfounded.
This was the war beast that fought itself in the sky moments ago?
Myrcella finally dared peek with one eye.
She saw three heads up close. Fangs longer than longswords. Golden pupils more dazzling than any jewel.
Yet before Lynn—docile as three unweaned kittens.
Lynn patted the middle head.
"Want to go up and see?"
He looked down. Voice tinged with amusement. Asked the girl in his arms.
Myrcella's heart pounded.
Up? Where?
Onto this dragon's back?
Fear and indescribable excitement tangled in her chest.
She looked into Lynn's unfathomable eyes. Found a power that made her feel utterly safe.
She nodded as if possessed.
Flight
Lynn smiled.
He gently tugged the reins. Storm understood. Stepped forward to Winter's massive foreleg.
Lynn—holding Myrcella—climbed the dragon's thick limb like stairs. Easily mounted its broad back.
The dragon's back wasn't as uncomfortable as imagined.
Between scale gaps grew a layer of down. Almost comfortable.
"Hold tight."
Lynn's voice sounded in her ear.
Myrcella instinctively hugged Lynn's waist tighter.
Winter roared excitedly. Massive wings spread. Beat hard!
WHOOSH—!
Weightlessness struck instantly!
Myrcella felt her body lighten—she was flying!
She couldn't help a short scream. Buried her face deeper.
The ground raced away. Winterfell's silhouette shrank rapidly.
Biting wind roared past her ears—but Lynn's broad back blocked it completely.
When Winter pierced the clouds, gliding smoothly at ten thousand meters—
—Myrcella dared slowly lift her head.
She saw it.
A sight she'd never forget.
Below—clouds white as cotton. Endless.
Above—sky washed blue. A golden sun hung, radiating warmth.
The world—never so vast.
"Wow..."
She gasped involuntarily.
Her green eyes reflected the entire sky. Sparkled brighter than stars.
Fire and Ice
"Winter, give Her Highness a performance."
Lynn's voice carried laughter.
The dragon roared excitedly at the command.
The right head suddenly opened its maw!
WHOOSH—!
A massive crimson fire column erupted—like divine wrath—instantly burning a huge hole in the cloud sea below!
Scorching heat washed over them.
Myrcella's mouth gaped wider.
This... this is dragonfire!
Legendary dragonfire that melts steel and burns cities!
Before she recovered from shock—
—the left head opened its mouth.
This time—not fire.
But a glacial blue stream!
Where it passed—air seemed to freeze!
The cloud hole's edges instantly crystallized into countless ice crystals. Refracted rainbow light in the sun.
Beautiful as a dream.
Fire and ice.
Two utterly opposite extreme powers—perfectly manifested in one dragon.
Just then—the middle head refused to be outdone. Raised its neck.
It inhaled deeply. Chest swelled high.
Then...
"Pfft."
A small wisp of black smoke with a few sparks wheezed out weakly.
Silence.
The left and right heads turned simultaneously. Looked at their "big brother" like he was an idiot.
The middle head froze. Seemed embarrassed.
It roared indignantly. Bit at the right head.
The right dodged nimbly. Turned to provoke the left.
The three heads brawled in the sky again.
"Hehehehe..."
Myrcella couldn't help laughing.
This mighty dragon—like a child who never grew up.
She leaned against Lynn's warm embrace. Watched the churning clouds. The three self-fighting heads.
Her fear had vanished.
Replaced by unprecedented wonder, peace, and... adoration.
She peeked up at Lynn's chiseled profile.
Who is this man?
He can make magical soap from filthy ingredients—driving noblewomen mad.
He easily defeated her peerless "uncle" Jaime.
He commands a three-headed dragon—nonexistent even in legend—docile as a pet.
He's the true prince.
No—he's ten thousand times more captivating than any prince in songs.
Robb's Lament
When Winter slowly landed in Winterfell's courtyard—
—a group waited anxiously.
Leading them—a young man in leather armor. Resolute face.
Robb Stark.
He watched Lynn jump from the dragon's back. Then carefully lift Princess Myrcella down.
He froze.
Mouth opened. Seemed to have a thousand words.
But finally—looking at Winter's three heads frantically nuzzling Lynn, fawning—
—he let out a blood-and-tears accusation.
"LYNN! You bastard! You're finally back!"
Robb rushed forward. Ignored the noble princess. Grabbed Lynn's shoulders. Shook hard.
"Do you know what I've been through these months?!"
"You call this thing a dragon? It's a bottomless pit! A demon!"
Robb pointed at Winter. Voice full of breakdown.
"It was four meters when it arrived! Now? Nearly fifteen!"
"It's taller than Winterfell's walls!"
"Its daily meals alone could feed all Winterfell's soldiers for three days!"
"It ate all of Winterfell's sheep!"
"I had to beg Northern vassals to 'borrow' livestock!"
"You know how Lord Glover looked at me? He thought I was rebelling—stockpiling for war!"
"And! It doesn't just eat—it causes trouble!"
"Yesterday it knocked down half of Maester Luwin's observatory! Because it wanted a raven's nest!"
"Those were ravens Luwin raised for decades!"
Robb grew more agitated.
"I scolded it—it breathed smoke at me!"
"If you weren't my brother, I'd have skinned it and made dragon steaks!"
Winter—seeming to understand Robb's complaints—
—turned its middle head. Bared teeth at Robb. Growled threateningly.
Lynn patted its neck soothingly. Winter instantly became docile again.
This scene stabbed Robb's battered heart.
Why?!
I raised it like a father—and it's closer to this absentee parent!
Lynn looked at his tearful brother. Then at Winter nuzzling him pitifully.
Finally—he laughed.
He walked to Robb. Patted his shoulder. Lowered his voice.
"Don't worry, Robb."
"I brought plenty of gold dragons this time. Enough for Winter's meals."
"Come. Let's go inside."
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