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Game of Thrones: Archer's Ordinary Life
Game of Thrones: Dragon Knight of Harrenhal
Game of Thrones: Archer's Ordinary Life
Game of Thrones: BLOODTHIRSTY BASTARD
Game of Thrones: House of Black Dragon
Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.
This ancient fortress, abandoned for centuries, was being revitalized at an unbelievable speed under Lynn's will.
Day and night, tens of thousands of wight laborers used their tireless claws and brute strength to repair the dilapidated walls and clear the ice-sealed harbor.
No work chants, no conversations, only the crack of grinding bones and the muffled thuds of colliding stones.
A terrifying fortress, stronger and deadlier than the Red Keep in King's Landing, was quietly rising at the end of the world.
Meanwhile, Lynn sat cross-legged in the highest tower of the Dragonstone stronghold, his eyes closed tight.
He was meditating.
The Three-Eyed Raven's thousand-year-old secret technique, driven by his Legendary spiritual power, was producing unimaginable effects.
He could feel his spiritual power, greatly depleted by forcefully awakening millions of undead, recovering and growing at a speed visible to the naked eye.
His consciousness was like an invisible net covering the entire North.
The flow of wind, the falling of snow, even the breathing of a snow rabbit in its burrow appeared clearly in his mind.
The moment his spiritual power was fully replenished, Lynn's consciousness crossed thousands of miles of ice fields, descending once again upon that bottomless giant corpse pit.
This time, he didn't try to awaken all the dead at once.
He became more patient, and more skilled.
His will was like an experienced fisherman, precisely casting a "net" into specific areas of the corpse pit.
Each time, he only "caught" a certain number of "fish."
Priority was given to awakening those relatively complete giant skeletons and those wildling warriors still wearing tattered armor.
These wildling corpses were well-preserved, and the giant skeletons simply had high combat power.
They were definitely the priority for awakening.
A heavy infantry unit composed of giants, a light cavalry unit composed of wildlings...
The organization of the undead legion was planned and perfected bit by bit in his mind.
Lynn enjoyed this process tirelessly.
A month passed in a flash.
During this month, apart from daily scheduled "fishing" to expand his undead army, Lynn spent basically the rest of his time in Dragonstone familiarizing himself with his newly acquired powers.
He made the mountain behind the castle bloom with Winter Roses overnight, then made them all wither the next day, turning their vitality to his own use.
He hummed war songs to roaring direwolves, making them fiercer and more fearless than the wildest dragons.
From King's Landing, Lianna's raven also brought news on time.
Tywin Lannister was integrating the forces of the Crownlands with an iron fist.
Joffrey had completely become a sidelined puppet king, indulging all day in wine, women, and Lianna's false tenderness.
Sansa continued to expand her soap "empire."
On the other side, Daenerys was constantly making sugar, trading, and turning gold coins into heavy armor for the Unsullied.
Everything was within Lynn's expectations.
Until this day, a magnificent ship flying the banner of a golden rose finally arrived at White Harbor.
...
Dragonstone, Council Hall.
The hall's decoration was simple yet oppressive.
The walls were built of unpolished obsidian, the floor covered with huge white bear skins.
No fireplace, no tapestries, only ten "Winter Wight Blood Guards" clad in black heavy armor, with eerie blue flames burning in their eye sockets, lined up on both sides like sculptures.
The deathly chill emanating from them made the temperature in the entire hall several degrees lower than outside.
Lynn sat on a throne carved from weirwood trunks and large blocks of natural crystal, resting his chin on one hand, looking down at the woman brought in by the guards.
Margaery Tyrell.
She had taken off the heavy fur cloak that could withstand the bitter cold of the North, wearing only a dark green velvet gown.
The gown wasn't revealing, but it outlined the curves of her mature, voluptuous body vividly.
As she walked, her waist and hips swayed beneath the skirt in a breathtaking arc.
Her skin was as fair as the finest milk of Highgarden, her thick brown hair intricately braided and hanging over her chest.
On that practically perfect face hung a just-right smile.
A smile that held the reserve of a noble lady and the sweetness of a young girl, enough to make any man feel favorably toward her.
Her brown eyes, like two clear ambers, reflected the cold scene in the hall.
She didn't look at the terrifying guards emitting the aura of death, nor at the throne cast from ice crystals.
Her gaze, from start to finish, fell only on the young man on the throne.
Curiosity, and a trace of undisguised admiration.
"Margaery Tyrell greets the King-Beyond-the-Wall, Lord of the Gift, Earl of the Dreadfort, Ruler of the Three Realms, Conqueror of the Three-Headed Dragon... Lord Lynn."
She took a deep breath and recited all of Lynn's titles to show her respect.
But after finishing, she felt breathless; it was simply too long, impossible to read without some lung capacity...
She stopped ten steps from the throne, lifted her skirt, and performed an impeccable curtsy.
Her voice was soft, like a spring breeze brushing over flower petals.
Lynn didn't speak.
He just used his pitch-black eyes to examine her calmly.
From her smooth forehead to her full lips, then to her surprisingly heaving chest wrapped in velvet.
His gaze was extremely aggressive, as if stripping away every inch of fabric on her body.
The atmosphere in the hall became somewhat stagnant in Lynn's silence.
The eerie blue flames in the eyes of the ten Winter Wight Blood Guards seemed to flicker more violently.
The smile on Margaery's face didn't change at all.
But her hand at her side, hidden by the skirt, clenched slightly at the knuckles.
She could feel the other party's rudeness, and that undisguised pressure.
But she couldn't retreat.
This was her first test upon arriving here.
"Look up."
After a long time, Lynn's emotionless voice finally rang out in the hall.
Margaery slowly raised her head, meeting Lynn's gaze again.
"You have courage, Miss Margaery Tyrell."
Lynn leaned forward slightly, fingers interlaced on his knee.
"Bringing just a few guards and one ship, daring to barge into my frozen North."
"Cut the crap."
"I know why you are here. Do you think I, this 'dragon' of the North, am as docile as those pets raised in your back garden?"
A just-right expression appeared on Margaery's face, tinged with a little grievance.
"Lord Lynn, I do not understand your meaning, and I intend no offense."
"I merely come with Highgarden's apologies, and the sincerity of House Tyrell."
"Apologies? Sincerity?"
Lynn sounded like he heard a joke.
"When my soldiers were bleeding in the Riverlands, when my provisions were running short due to the war, where was Highgarden's apology?"
"When Roose Bolton launched a rebellion in the North, trying to overthrow House Stark's rule, where was the sincerity of House Tyrell's promised alliance?"
"Your words were all empty checks."
"You took me for a fool!"
Every word from Lynn smashed heavily onto Margaery's heart.
Margaery realized Lynn seemed truly angry.
"Margaery, I only saw your granary doors shut tight, saw your knights toasting with the Lannisters in King's Landing."
"Now that the war is over, you come with so-called apologies and sincerity."
A mocking arc curled on Lynn's lips.
"Do you think I will accept it like an idiot?"
Margaery took a deep breath, the smile on her face finally fading, replaced by sincere solemnity.
"I admit, this was my father's shortsightedness, and our family's mistake."
"My grandmother, Lady Olenna, believed from the start that you were the future of Westeros."
"But her words could not convince my foolish father."
She unhesitatingly pushed her father out as a shield.
"So, Grandmother sent me to personally express her respect to you, and House Tyrell's determination to... set things right."
"Set things right?"
Lynn leaned back on the throne, looking at her leisurely.
"Sounds nice."
"Just like before."
"So, the Queen of Thorns sent you to scout the path?"
"To see the quality of this dragon from the North?"
"To see if it's still timely to jump on my ship?"
Margaery didn't deny it.
She knew any lie was futile in front of such a person.
"Yes."
She met Lynn's gaze frankly.
"Grandmother wants to know what you want."
"Highgarden's wealth, the South's granaries, and Westeros's most elite knights..."
"As long as you ask, House Tyrell is willing to offer everything to you."
"Including me."
She took a step forward, the fire of ambition burning in her beautiful brown eyes.
"What Tywin Lannister can give me is the title of Queen."
"But I believe you can give me more."
Lynn looked at her.
Looking at her beautiful face written with ambition and confidence, he wasn't really that angry.
After all, he hadn't suffered in the war; a large part of those words was just to scare Margaery.
He had to admit, Margaery was a very smart woman.
She knew her advantages clearly, and knew how to use them to exchange for maximum benefit.
Unfortunately.
She found the wrong person to negotiate with.
"Queen?"
Lynn suddenly laughed, deciding not to be so easy-going this time.
He slowly stood up from the throne, walking down the steps one by one.
With each step, the oppressive feeling cold as winter made Margaery's heart beat faster.
Lynn stopped in front of her.
He was more than a head taller than her, looking down at her from above.
"What makes you think you are qualified to be my Queen?"
Lynn reached out, using his index finger to gently lift her chin, forcing Margaery to look him in the eye.
His fingertip was cold, making Margaery's body tremble involuntarily.
"Just because of this pretty face?"
"Or this fairly decent body?"
Lynn's gaze swept unscrupulously over the amazing curves on her chest.
"Or perhaps, because of your old grandmother who calculated everything behind the scenes and only now wants to place a bet?"
Margaery bit her lip, saying nothing.
In those beautiful eyes, a trace of humiliation appeared for the first time.
"Put away those tricks you use on those idiots in King's Landing, Miss Margaery."
Lynn's voice was very low, carrying a hint of danger.
"With me, if you want to get something, you must pay an equal price."
"House Tyrell missed the best time to bet. Now to get back on the table, you must pay double the chips."
"I had a similar agreement with the Lannisters before."
"But they also broke their promise."
"So, I'm not targeting you Tyrells specifically."
"If the Lannisters want back on the table, they also need to pay a price!"
Lynn let go, took a step back, and looked her up and down again.
"Now, speak your mind."