Lynn's body stiffened.
The person in his arms was breathing steadily, seemingly fast asleep.
But that sentence, murmured dreamily with a heavy nasal tone, was like the finest feather, gently scratching Lynn's most sensitive nerves.
"Can you control my body again? I want it..."
The words were slurred, carrying a bit of coquettishness, a bit of craving, yet also an unconscious dependence.
Lynn looked down at the little wildcat curled up in his arms.
The firelight outlined the soft profile of her face.
Her fiery red hair spread messily on the pillow, like a burning flame.
In her sleep, she had shed her armor of spikes.
Without the arrogance and domineering manner of the day, only the softness and fragility of an ordinary girl remained.
She was jealous of Myrcella.
She was envious.
This discovery made Lynn both laugh and cry, yet an inexplicable softness arose 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 politeness. The only person she could recognize and rely on was the first person who fed her meat.
And Lynn was that person.
So she clumsily imitated southern etiquette, trying to integrate into this world she completely didn't understand.
And because of an inadvertent act by Lynn, she would bristle all over, declaring her sovereignty in the most primitive and direct way.
She didn't understand political marriages, didn't understand allies.
In her black-and-white world, sleeping together meant a lifetime, and the greatest happiness.
And that sleep-talk exposed her deepest, most hidden desire.
She missed that feeling.
The feeling of her body being completely taken over by Lynn, her soul closely connected with his, advancing and retreating together.
It was an extreme trust and blending 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 mind.
No obstruction, no resistance.
That sea was full of the chill of ice and snow, the bitterness of pine needles, and the ecstasy of soaring adrenaline after a successful hunt.
Countless fragmented images flashed through Lynn's consciousness.
Chasing a snow hare on a frozen river.
Tearing open a piece of half-raw venison with her teeth.
Singing loudly with her clan by the bonfire...
These were memories belonging to Ygritte, belonging to a Free Folk spearwife.
Wild, free, full of vitality.
But beneath this wild surface, Lynn felt a deep loneliness.
A despair of being abandoned by the whole world.
The scene shifted abruptly.
Lynn found himself in a boundless snowy plain.
A blizzard covered the sky and earth; a white curtain of snow obscured everything, leaving only the roar of the wind.
A small figure struggled through knee-deep snow.
It was a little girl who looked only seven or eight years old, wearing worn-out furs.
Her fiery red hair looked like a flame about to be extinguished in the wind.
It was Ygritte in her childhood.
She was trembling with cold, her small face pale, lips purple.
She walked and looked back, her blue eyes filled with fear and confusion.
"Papa..."
"Mama..."
She let out a kitten-like whimper, quickly swallowed by the gale.
She had been separated from her tribe.
On this white wasteland capable of devouring everything, she was like a grain of sand about to be crushed at any moment.
Cold, hunger, fear...
Drowning her bit by bit.
This was her deepest nightmare.
The strong, proud, fearless spearwife always hid this lost, crying little girl deep in her soul.
Lynn's consciousness didn't take physical form.
He simply turned into a ball of warm light, silently enveloping the shivering little figure.
Little Ygritte, who was crying, trembled abruptly.
She felt a warm current slowly injected into her body from the top of her head, dispelling the chill that penetrated deep into her marrow.
She looked up blankly, but saw nothing.
Only the wind and snow remained.
But she wasn't so afraid anymore.
That warmth wrapped around her, like her father's broad bearskin coat, like her mother's warm embrace.
She stopped crying, just instinctively walking forward, stumbling toward the direction where the warmth was strongest.
After walking for an unknown amount of time, the blizzard miraculously stopped.
Ahead on the snowy plain, a cave appeared.
A bonfire burned at the cave entrance, the orange-red light looking exceptionally warm in the white world.
Little Ygritte's eyes lit up.
She ran, rolling and crawling toward that cave.
Inside the cave, a tall, burly man sat by the fire, carefully sharpening a bone spear with a whetstone.
He had fiery red hair just like Ygritte, only mixed with some grey from the wind and frost.
Beside him, a woman was sewing a small fur coat with a bone needle and sinew.
Her face was marked by wind and frost, but the eyes looking at the fire were full of tenderness.
"Papa! Mama!"
Little Ygritte let out a joyful cheer, throwing herself into the cave like a swallow returning to the forest.
The man and woman turned around at the same time.
Looking at their little daughter rushing into their arms, loving smiles appeared on their faces.
The man reached out a rough hand, ruffling her hair.
The woman hugged her tightly, warming her cold body with her own.
No words.
But the joy of recovering what was lost.
The affection connected by blood was more real than any words.
Little Ygritte buried her face in her mother's bosom.
Greedily smelling the scent of bonfire and pine oil, feeling the temperature of her father's palm, her suspended heart finally settled.
She was safe.
She was home.
Lynn's consciousness floated quietly aside, watching this warm scene.
He knew this was just a dream.
It was Ygritte's deepest desire, materialized by his power.
Her parents might have died long ago on a cold winter night, or in conflict with other tribes, or... under the blades of the White Walkers moving south.
But at this moment, in this dream woven by Lynn for her, they were at least alive for now.
The figures of the parents in the cave began to turn transparent, like reflections in water disturbed by a breeze.
Little Ygritte seemed to sense something.
She looked up abruptly, her blue eyes filled with panic.
"Papa! Mama! Don't go!"
She reached out her small hands, wanting to grab them, but grasped only nothingness.
Her parents' figures, along with the warm bonfire, turned into specks of light and dissipated into the air.
The cave became dark and cold again.
Huge loss and fear gripped Little Ygritte's heart once more.
She opened her mouth, wanting to cry aloud.
But that ball of warm light enveloped her again.
Warmer, heavier, more reassuring than before.
Little Ygritte was stunned.
She turned slowly, looking at that ball of light.
She couldn't see clearly what was inside the light, but she could feel a pair of eyes watching her gently.
She suddenly understood.
From beginning to end, what accompanied her, gave her warmth, and guided her direction wasn't the illusion of her parents.
But this ball of light.
She reached out a small hand, tentatively touching the light.
The moment her fingertips touched the light.
Boom——!
An indescribable feeling, like an electric current, instantly spread through her limbs, reaching the deepest part of her soul.
It was a connection beyond words.
Like two drifting streams finally merging into the same great river.
She felt she was no longer alone.
Her soul was pressed tightly against the light's soul.
She could feel his strength, his calmness, his unfathomable depth.
He could also feel her loneliness, her fear, her pretended strength.
In this moment, there were no secrets between them.
Little Ygritte smiled.
She wasn't afraid anymore.
Although Papa and Mama were gone, she found a new... family.
A stronger family who could protect her forever.
She opened her arms and threw herself into the embrace of that light without hesitation.
---
In the tent, Lynn slowly opened his eyes.
He looked down into his arms.
Ygritte was still sleeping deeply.
But a crystal tear hung at the corner of her eye.
Her mouth curved up slightly, carrying a satisfied and reassured arc.
Lynn reached out, gently wiping away that tear with his thumb.
From tonight on, the relationship between him and this wildling girl was different.
It was no longer the King Beyond the Wall and his subject, nor the primitive attraction between man and woman.
It was a bond of souls.
He broke into her dream, glimpsed her softest core, and became her new spiritual sustenance.
This responsibility was heavy.
Ygritte's eyelashes trembled slightly, and she opened her eyes slowly.
Those blue eyes, usually clear like the Northern sky with a hint of wildness, now looked like a melted glacial lake, shimmering and bottomless.
She looked at Lynn, not speaking.
She didn't ask "What did you do to me," nor did she bluster and declare sovereignty like usual.
Ygritte just watched quietly, as if carving Lynn's appearance into her bones and blood.
After a long time, Ygritte shrunk into Lynn's arms, pressing her cheek against his chest, her voice carrying a trace of just-woken huskiness but incredibly clear.
"Don't go."
Two words, very simple.
Yet heavier than any oath.
Lynn's heart felt like it had been gently bumped by something.
He tightened his arms, holding this girl who had entrusted her all to him even closer.
"I won't go."
Lynn answered softly.
Ygritte closed her eyes with satisfaction, her breathing becoming steady again.
Lynn, however, felt no drowsiness.
Looking at the tent roof, feeling the warm, soft body in his arms and that unreserved dependence.
He knew he had just done something very dangerous.
Using his power, he rebuilt a home for a lost girl.
But wasn't he himself a stranger walking alone on this unfamiliar continent of Westeros?