The clang of hammers echoed through the smithy in Winterfell.
The furnace glowed red, casting a fiery hue on Miken the smith's sweat-drenched face.
Jon Snow stood by, intently watching Miken work.
"It needs to be thinner."
Jon reminded Miken.
"Thinner than Bran's practice sword."
Miken paused his hammer.
He picked up the glowing iron bar with his tongs.
In the dim smithy, the iron bar looked like a burning piece of charcoal.
He looked at Jon, puzzled.
"Lord Snow, a sword this thin would break with a single touch."
"This isn't for a boy."
A faint smile appeared on Jon's face.
"This is for Arya."
Miken suddenly understood.
He remembered the duke's youngest daughter, who was always scampering around the castle, less like a lady and more like a wild child.
"I understand."
Miken put the iron bar back into the furnace and vigorously pulled the bellows.
Sparks flew.
Jon's gaze, crossing the dancing flames, looked towards the courtyard.
He was going to the Wall.
To the end of the world, to guard a cold wasteland.
The only gift he could leave his sister was this insignificant one.
A sword suited for her... Lynn's room was already tidied.
He sat on the bed, toying with the valyrian steel dagger.
The dragonbone hilt felt warm to the touch, and strange ripples seemed to flow along the blade.
The door was gently pushed open.
Lynn put away the dagger and looked towards the doorway.
Arya poked her head in, her grey eyes showing a hint of nervousness and anticipation.
"They said you're leaving tomorrow."
Arya walked in and closed the door behind her.
Lynn nodded, sheathing the dagger and tucking it behind his waist.
"To the Wall."
"With Jon?"
"Yes."
Arya walked up to Lynn, looking up at him with her small face.
She was silent for a moment, as if steeling her courage, then hugged Lynn and looked up.
"Can you take me with you?"
Lynn's movements paused.
He looked at Arya's eyes, full of expectation.
"Are you crazy?"
"I'm not crazy!"
Arya's voice rose a few octaves.
"I don't want to stay here!"
"I don't want to learn embroidery, I don't want to be a lady!"
"I want to learn sword fighting!"
"I want to go on adventures!"
Arya's gaze fell on the longsword at Lynn's waist.
It was filled with undisguised yearning.
Lynn looked at Arya.
He knew.
If Arya followed Ned south, she and her Direwolf, Nymeria, would clash with Joffrey on the Kingsroad.
That conflict would lead to Nymeria being driven away.
It would cause Sansa's Direwolf, "Lady," to be executed as a scapegoat.
And it would further escalate the conflict between House Stark and the House Lannister.
And now, an opportunity to change all of this was right before him.
Lynn thought for a moment, then stood up.
"Arya, come with me."
Lynn opened the door and walked out.
Arya was stunned for a moment, then immediately followed him.
The atmosphere in Ned's study was heavy.
He was writing letters, arranging various affairs of the North.
After he went south, the entire burden of the North would fall on Robb, his eldest son.
"Father."
Arya's voice made Ned look up.
He saw Arya, and his brow furrowed slightly.
"Arya, at this time you should be with your septa teacher."
"You skipped lessons again."
"Father, I want to go to the Wall with Lynn."
Arya blurted out.
Ned's face darkened.
"Nonsense!"
"This isn't nonsense!"
Arya met her father's gaze without fear.
"I don't want to stay in Winterfell!"
"I hate this place, it's too monotonous!"
"I want to go on adventures."
Ned's breath hitched.
He looked at his youngest daughter.
He couldn't bring himself to utter words of blame.
Finally, Ned said.
"Arya, why don't you come south with us instead."
"The warm South is ultimately more suited for you than the harsh North."
"Don't you want to learn sword fighting?"
"When we reach King's Landing, I'll find you the best swordmaster!"
Arya's eyes lit up for a moment.
But then she glanced at Lynn beside her.
She shook her head without hesitation.
"No!"
"I want to go on an adventure to the Wall!"
At this moment, Lynn spoke.
"My Lord."
"How about a compromise."
"Lady Arya can go with Lord Snow and me to the Wall first."
"After we finish our business there, I will take her with me to King's Landing."
Ned was silent.
He knew better than anyone.
His daughter's personality.
So much like her deceased aunt, Lyanna.
Equally untamed, equally yearning for freedom.
And Winterfell, King's Landing, for such a small wolf, were nothing short of cages.
"Let her come with me, My Lord."
Lynn continued.
"I will take her and Jon to the Wall."
"Though it is harsh there, at least it is safe."
"Once you are settled in King's Landing, I will personally bring her to you."
Ned looked at Lynn.
Looking at this young man who had saved his family time and again.
That trust had long since taken root in his heart.
Lynn's suggestion was not unfeasible.
At least for Arya, it would be an exciting adventure.
After a long while.
Ned slowly exhaled.
"Lynn."
He looked at Lynn, his gaze extremely solemn.
"I entrust her to you."
"You must protect her as you would yourself."
"Bring her back to me, safely."
"I heard from Catelyn that she wanted to reward you but you refused."
"Then I will take the liberty of giving you a hundred-man squad, at your command."
"This should be enough for you to solve most of the problems you encounter; House Stark is never stingy with rewarding meritorious subjects."
"These men are elites, you must treat them well."
A brilliant smile instantly bloomed on Arya's face.
She was practically about to jump for joy.
Lynn lowered his eyes, concealing the fleeting glint in them.
In Westeros, the peak urban population was no more than 3 million, with King's Landing, as a super city, accounting for almost a third of that.
If calculated by carrying capacity, supporting such an urban population would require at least 15 million rural people.
Therefore, according to medieval war mobilization rates, being able to field an army of 100,000 was already very impressive; typical small-scale conflicts involved only a few thousand people.
Moreover, assembling large armies mostly relied on feudal vassals providing troops.
Take Bear Island as an example; the entire Bear Island had no more than 80 skilled fighters.
Although there were many vassals, Ned being able to assign a hundred loyal Stark soldiers was a result of his strong cultivation of Lynn.
Of course, there was also the factor of protecting Arya.
"As you command, My Lord."
Being overly eager for success would only make others dislike him.
For a family that values honor, retreating to advance was the best choice.
Ned Stark nodded and walked directly to Lynn's side.
"Lynn."
"I can see that you are a man who cares deeply about honor."
"Everything you've done for House Stark these past few days, I've seen."
"I made you betray your Night's Watch vows, please don't blame me."
Lynn shook his head in denial.
"It is my honor to serve My Lord."
Ned now greatly appreciated the discerning Lynn.
Not only was he loyal, but his combat power was also respectable, and he knew when to advance and retreat, possessing prophetic abilities, which made Ned feel even more inclined to cultivate Lynn vigorously.
House Stark never mistreated loyal followers!
Moreover, Lynn's prophetic ability was simply too important!
"When you return, I want you to help me find out the cause of my foster father's death."
"In return, I will ask Robert to secure a lord's title for you; you will serve as my vassal, owning your own fief in the North, and having your own people."
"I have high hopes for you, Lynn."
"Don't disappoint me."
Lord?
Indeed.
Lynn understood that giving him a hundred men earlier conveyed two important signals.
One was that he had already become Ned's trusted man.
The most important point.
Ned would definitely cultivate him with all his might next!
This meant that Ned's words were not empty; Ned indeed had this idea!
However, the prerequisites had to be met.
He needed to prove his worth to Ned before Ned could increase the stakes.
As long as he became a vassal, even without any real power, population, or financial resources, Lynn would still break away from his current status as a commoner and enter a new social class.
The Starks and Baratheons were allied through Sansa's marriage.
If Ned currently had no intention of marrying into other forces, then Arya herself could be pursued!
Only by truly marrying Arya could he truly be bound to the Starks!
Thinking of this, Lynn knelt on one knee to show his loyalty.
"Thank you for your patronage, My Lord."
"By the Old Gods, I will certainly not disappoint My Lord!"
Hearing the words "Old Gods," Ned's expression softened.
"All right, go pack your bags and get some rest early."
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