Lynn's body stiffened for a moment.
The person in his arms was breathing steadily, seemingly fast asleep.
But that dream-like murmur, thick with a nasal tone, was like the finest feather, gently tickling Lynn's most sensitive nerves.
"Can you… control my body again? I want it…"
Her words were slurred, carrying a hint of coquetry, a touch of longing, yet also an unconscious dependence.
Lynn looked down at the little wildcat curled up in his arms.
The firelight outlined her soft profile.
Her fiery red hair was spread out messily on the pillow, like a burning flame.
In her sleep, she had shed her thorns.
Gone was the brazenness and arrogance of the day, leaving only the softness and vulnerability of an ordinary girl.
She was jealous of Myrcella.
She was envious.
This discovery made Lynn feel a mix of amusement and helplessness, yet a strange softness bloomed in his heart.
Ygritte was like a wolf accustomed to foraging alone in the wilderness, suddenly brought into a human village one day.
She didn't understand the rules here, couldn't stand the hypocritical pleasantries; the only thing she could recognize and rely on was the first person who fed her meat.
And Lynn was that person.
So she would clumsily imitate Southern etiquette, attempting to integrate into a world she completely didn't understand.
And she would also bristle, all her fur standing on end, at an unintentional gesture from Lynn, asserting her dominance in the most primal, direct way.
She didn't understand political marriages, didn't understand allies.
In her black-and-white world, sleeping together was a lifelong commitment, and the happiest thing.
And that dream talk exposed her deepest, most secret desires without reservation.
She missed that feeling.
The feeling of her body being completely taken over by Lynn, yet her soul intimately connected with him, moving forward together.
It was an ultimate trust and fusion that transcended physical desire.
Lynn sighed softly.
He closed his eyes.
His consciousness, like a silent drop of ink, slowly sank into Ygritte's chaotic and wild sea of heart.
There was no obstruction, no resistance.
That sea was filled with the chill of ice and snow, the bitterness of pine needles, and the wild ecstasy of adrenaline surging after a successful hunt.
Countless fragmented images flashed through Lynn's consciousness.
She chased a snow rabbit on a frozen river.
Tore open a piece of half-raw venison with her teeth.
Sang loudly with her tribe around a bonfire… These were Ygritte's memories, the memories of a Free Folk spearwife.
Wild, free, full of vitality.
But beneath this wild exterior, Lynn sensed a deep loneliness.
A despair of being abandoned by the entire world.
The scene abruptly shifted.
Lynn found himself in an endless snowfield.
A blizzard raged, a white curtain of snow obscuring everything, leaving only the roar of the wind between heaven and earth.
A tiny figure trudged with difficulty through knee-deep snow.
It was a little girl who looked only seven or eight years old, wearing worn animal skins.
Her fiery red hair in the wind was like a dying flame.
It was Ygritte in her childhood.
She shivered with cold, her small face pale, her lips purple.
As she walked, she kept looking back, her blue eyes filled with fear and confusion.
"Papa…"
"Mama…"
She made a kitten-like whimper, her voice quickly swallowed by the gale.
She had been separated from her tribe.
In this white wilderness that could devour everything, she was like a grain of sand that could be crushed at any moment.
Cold, hunger, fear… slowly engulfed her.
This was her deepest nightmare.
The strong, proud, fearless spearwife, deep within her soul, always hid this little girl lost and crying in a blizzard.
Lynn's consciousness did not take on a physical form.
He merely transformed into a warm light, silently enveloping that shivering little figure.
The crying little Ygritte suddenly trembled.
She felt a warm current slowly flow into her body from the top of her head, dispelling the bone-deep cold.
She looked up blankly but saw nothing.
Only the wind and snow remained.
But she wasn't so afraid anymore.
That warmth enveloped her, like her father's thick bearskin coat, like her mother's warm embrace.
She no longer cried, but instinctively, toward the direction where the warm current was strongest, she continued to trudge forward, one foot sinking, one foot shallow.
After an unknown period, the wind and snow miraculously stopped.
In front of the snowfield, a cave appeared.
A bonfire burned at the entrance of the cave; the orange-red firelight appeared exceptionally warm in the white world.
Little Ygritte's eyes lit up.
She scrambled and stumbled towards the cave.
Inside the cave, a tall, burly man sat by the fire, carefully sharpening a bone spear with a whetstone.
He had the same fiery red hair as Ygritte, only mixed with a few streaks of gray from the elements.
Beside him, a woman was mending a small leather garment with a bone needle and animal sinew.
Her face was etched with the marks of wind and frost, but her eyes, watching the fire, were full of tenderness.
"Papa! Mama!"
Little Ygritte let out a joyful cheer and rushed over like a swallow returning to its nest.
The man and woman turned their heads at the same time.
They looked at their little daughter who had rushed into their arms, and a loving smile appeared on their faces.
The man reached out his rough hand and ruffled her hair.
The woman held her tightly in her arms, warming her cold body with her own warmth.
No words were spoken.
But that joy of being reunited after being lost.
That blood-bound family affection was more real than any words.
Little Ygritte buried her face in her mother's embrace.
She greedily inhaled the scent mixed with bonfire smoke and pine oil, feeling the warmth of her father's palm, and her anxious heart finally settled.
She was safe.
She was home.
Lynn's consciousness floated quietly to the side, watching this heartwarming scene.
He knew this was just a dream.
It was Ygritte's deepest desire, materialized by his power.
Her parents had perhaps long died on a cold winter night, or in conflicts with other tribes, or… fallen to the Others' blades during their southward march.
But at this moment, in this dream Lynn wove for her, they were at least still alive.
The figures of the parents in the cave began to become transparent, like reflections in water, ruffled by a gentle breeze.
Little Ygritte seemed to sense something.
She suddenly looked up, her blue eyes filled with panic.
"Papa! Mama! Don't go!"
She stretched out her small hands, wanting to grasp them, but only caught emptiness.
The figures of her parents, along with the warm bonfire, turned into specks of light and dissipated into the air.
The cave became dark and cold again.
A huge sense of loss and fear once again gripped little Ygritte's heart.
She opened her mouth, wanting to cry loudly.
But that warm light enveloped her again.
Warmer, heavier, and more reassuring than before.
Little Ygritte froze.
She slowly turned around and looked at the light.
She couldn't see what was inside the light, but she could feel that a pair of eyes were gently watching her from within.
She suddenly understood.
The one who had been with her all along, giving her warmth and guiding her direction, was not the illusion of her parents.
It was this light.
She stretched out her small hand, tentatively, reaching out to touch the light.
The moment her fingertips touched the light.
Boom—!
An indescribable sensation, like an electric current, instantly spread through her limbs and bones, reaching the deepest part of her soul.
It was a connection that words could not describe.
As if two wandering streams had finally merged into the same great river.
She felt that she was no longer alone.
Her soul and the soul of the light were tightly pressed together.
She could feel his strength, his calmness, his unfathomable depth.
He could also feel her loneliness, her fear, her feigned toughness.
At this moment, there were no more secrets between them.
Little Ygritte smiled.
She was no longer afraid.
Although Papa and Mama were gone, she had found a new… family.
A stronger family member who could protect her forever.
She spread her arms and unhesitatingly threw herself into the embrace of that light… Inside the tent, Lynn slowly opened his eyes.
He looked down at his arms.
Ygritte was still asleep.
But a glistening tear hung at the corner of her eye.
The corners of her mouth were slightly upturned, forming an arc of satisfaction and peace of mind.
Lynn reached out and gently wiped away the tear from the corner of her eye with his thumb.
From tonight onwards, the relationship between him and this Free Folk girl was different.
It was no longer king-beyond-the-wall and his people, nor the primal attraction between a man and a woman.
It was a soul-bond.
He had entered her dream, glimpsed her softest core, and become her new spiritual anchor.
This responsibility was heavy.
Ygritte's eyelashes fluttered slightly, and she slowly opened her eyes.
Those blue eyes, always as clear as the Northern sky and with a hint of wildness, now resembled a melted ice lake, shimmering with water, unfathomably deep.
She looked at Lynn, saying nothing.
She didn't ask, "What did you do to me?", nor did she loudly assert her dominance as usual.
Ygritte just watched quietly, as if wanting to engrave Lynn's image into her very bones.
After a long while, Ygritte snuggled further into Lynn's embrace, pressing her cheek against his chest, her voice a little hoarse from sleep but incredibly clear.
"Don't go."
Two words, very simple.
Yet heavier than any oath.
Lynn's heart felt as if something had gently bumped it.
He tightened his arms, holding the girl who had completely entrusted herself to him even closer.
"I won't go."
Lynn replied softly.
Ygritte closed her eyes contentedly, her breathing becoming steady once more.
Lynn, however, felt no sleepiness.
He looked at the tent ceiling, feeling the warm, soft body in his arms and the unreserved dependence.
He knew he had just done something very dangerous.
He had used his power to rebuild a home for a lost girl.
But wasn't he himself also a stranger, walking alone on this unfamiliar continent of Westeros?
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