Lynn was genuinely glad to see her.
It wasn't just that she'd finished the sword so fast. Kuna kept herself noticeably cleaner than the rest of the free folk. Her face was always washed, she didn't look like she'd rolled in dirt, and she didn't carry that sour, weeks-unwashed stink that clung to everyone else.
He was about to ask how the hell she managed basic hygiene in this frozen hell when Kuna stepped forward, dropped to one knee, and lifted the sword overhead with both hands.
In a voice that shook, she spoke in the Common Tongue:
"Kuna Umber of Last Hearth offers eternal loyalty to the blood of the dragon."
Lynn paused, surprised, and automatically shifted sideways to avoid the gesture.
He wasn't sure what Last Hearth was, but he'd already prepared for people mistaking him for a Targaryen. Everyone on the continent knew only dragonlord blood could ride dragons. He had his answer ready.
"Stand up first."
Lynn took Dark Sister—now fitted with its new hilt and scabbard—sat back down on the thick-furred chair, and laid the longsword across his knees.
He ran his fingers over the new gray-white, semi-transparent fish-skin scabbard, then spoke carefully to the woman now standing before him.
"I'm sure you've heard the stories about me. They haven't had time to grow too wild yet, so most of what they say is true. I can promise you that."
"I'm not of Targaryen blood, and I have no interest in stealing their family name. As for the dragon—if that's what matters—there were dozens of families in ancient Valyria who could ride them."
Kuna looked surprised, but the winds and snows of the North had hardened her. That single eye stayed steady and determined.
"My lord," she said, using a title almost never heard north of the Wall, "Aegon the Conqueror took six kingdoms in two years with three grown dragons and a handful of soldiers. You have a dragon, and the Thenns fight better than any other clan. The next dynasty could bear your name."
Lynn shook his head.
"Aegon had three adult dragons. Mine is still a hatchling. It'll take decades to grow. Aegon's family had deep roots and had ruled Dragonstone for a century. The Thenns already have their own Magnar—they're not my vassals. And I have zero interest in ruling anyone."
Truth was, the moment he pictured medieval cities and castles knee-deep in garbage and shit, with zero comfort or modern conveniences, the whole "king" idea sounded like a nightmare even if someone handed him the crown for free.
You had to live it to understand how miserable it was to be a king in a world this backward—low productivity, no real information, lords who only pretended to obey, rebellions popping up constantly.
From Bloodraven's memories Lynn knew the Targaryen kings had struggled with all of it. If Bloodraven hadn't built his spy network with greenseer powers, the dynasty would have collapsed even sooner.
Coming from a world of plenty, Lynn figured even the richest Westerosi king lived worse than a successful merchant in the Free Cities across the Narrow Sea.
Kuna bit her lip, thinking hard.
Seeing how hard she was pushing him, Lynn asked out of pure curiosity:
"Kuna Umber, Nymo told me about your background. I respect your strength. But I still don't get it—why are you urging me to seize a throne?"
Kuna froze for a second, then suddenly started crying.
"My lord," she knelt again, voice thick with grief. "A war for the Seven Kingdoms has broken out south of the Wall. They say five kings are fighting each other—including the Starks, the lords of the North who once ruled my family."
"Most Northern soldiers marched south with the Starks. The Wall is almost undefended. Mance will break through. Once the free folk cross, every person in the North will face a disaster unlike anything they've seen—including my own family."
Lynn already knew this part. Bloodraven had paid close attention to the realm's politics; those memories were some of the clearest he'd left behind.
Kuna kept going, voice raw.
"My family has held Last Hearth for generations. It's the castle closest to the Wall in all Seven Kingdoms. That's why the raiders took me. My father is Mors Umber. The year Lyanna was born, a merchant named Gawen brought me news: my two brothers died at the Battle of the Trident, fighting to overthrow the Targaryens."
"So I'm the last child my father has left. My only wish in this life is to see him one more time and place my daughter in his care… if he'll still claim me."
The sorrow in her words was heavy enough to taste. The cloaked figure behind her began to sob quietly. It had to be her daughter Lyanna.
"I understand what you're asking," Lynn said, "but the free folk's attack on the Wall can't be stopped. You know that when the army of the dead comes, nothing living will survive north of the Wall. I've seen those things myself."
"The free folk won't just sit and wait to die. If the Wall really can't hold, then the best thing you can do is stay close to Mance and try to build some kind of bridge between your family and the free folk."
Lynn stroked his chin, offering the only practical advice he could think of. Kuna shook her head.
"The hatred between Northerners and free folk can't be talked away."
She pulled aside her eyepatch, revealing the empty black socket.
"For thousands of years wildlings have climbed the Wall to burn, kill, rape, and steal. Girls they couldn't carry off they blinded."
"The Night's Watch has hunted and driven them back just as long. The blood between us is taller than the Wall and harder than the ice."
"The free folk have no discipline and produce nothing. Right now they listen to Mance only because the dead scare them more than their pride. The moment they cross south, his rule will collapse."
"Tens of thousands of wildlings will descend on the North like locusts and strip it bare. Last Hearth will be the first castle to burn. They don't know how to hold land or farm—they only know how to take what's already there. The North is huge but poor. It can't feed them all."
The problem was impossible. Even with knowledge far beyond this era, Lynn couldn't see a clean way out.
Unless he could magically conjure food out of thin air—which highlighted the biggest downside of crossing over without any system or cheat.
"So why bring all this to me?" Lynn asked helplessly. "Right now the whole situation looks like a dead end."
Kuna's worry for her family and the Northern people was understandable. Some raiders deserved what they got, but that didn't mean walling every wildling outside to become fresh meat for the Others.
Raiders were only a small fraction. Not every free folk could even cross the Wall—only the toughest elites managed it. Most wildlings had never even seen the ice barrier in their lives. They were primitive and backward, marching south now only because staying meant death.
"You have a dragon," Kuna said, voice firm again. "The Thenns respect you. The free folk already sing of your fairness."
"If you raise your banner, the Northern people might accept a new dragon king. Faced with death, the smarter wildlings will bend the knee—they're not as unbreakable as they claim."
"Given time, the ones who submit can learn to feed themselves and become your subjects. The North is vast. There's land enough to settle them."
Lynn looked at her with new respect. A lot of what she described was pure fantasy, but it was at least a coherent plan.
"You said the hatred between Northerners and free folk runs blood-deep," he pointed out—the biggest hole in her idea. Compared to that, getting the North to accept a dragon king or making wildlings kneel actually sounded more realistic.
In any world, ancient tribal hatred was always the spark and fuel for blood and chaos.