Game of Thrones: The Red Dragon Lord

After learning the whereabouts of the dragon eggs, Gavin immediately understood their significance. These were the three dragon eggs that Daenerys would one day receive. No wonder he had stationed spies to watch Illyrio Mopatis for so long without success. It turned out the eggs were provided by Varys.

Thinking this through, Gavin asked in confusion:

"So, once I marry Daenerys, the dragon eggs might be delivered to her?"

Brynden Rivers gazed at Gavin deeply, his voice deliberate.

"Fate is always fickle, but it will eventually return to its destined course. Except for you, I have found no one who can alter it."

Gavin frowned slightly, then asked:

"So fate is being corrected? Does that mean Daenerys will still receive the three dragon eggs?"

Brynden Rivers shook his head faintly.

"I cannot see your future—or the futures of those whose destinies you have changed."

Gavin remained silent for a moment, then stepped forward and picked up the Dark Sister from the ground.

The Dark Sister was a Valyrian steel longsword, a legacy of House Targaryen. Its hilt was crafted from black steel, inlaid with gleaming obsidian. The handle, wrapped in worn black leather, bore the touch of countless years. The slender blade shimmered faintly, its edge so sharp it seemed capable of cutting through the very fabric of the world.

After inspecting the sword closely, Gavin put it down and asked Brynden:

"Once news of my dragon reaches the Iron Throne, what will Robert Baratheon do about me?"

Brynden Rivers replied calmly:

"He has no personal interest in you; he does not believe your dragon poses a threat. However, it is Jon Arryn who perceives you as a danger to the Iron Throne."

Gavin's expression shifted slightly.

"What if I marry Daenerys? How would that change their response?"

Brynden Rivers shook his head once more.

"I do not know. I can only see what has happened or is happening, not what will be when it comes to you."

A faint smile spread across Gavin's face.

"So, I really am unique. It's not a bad thing to be untraceable by the likes of you."

After a pause, he added with determination:

"I don't believe in fate, but I will keep my word. I will leave the North today. But if anyone threatens me in the future, I won't hesitate to act—regardless of your so-called fate."

Brynden Rivers nodded slightly, offering no further words. Gavin turned and walked out of the tree hollow.

Outside, Daenerys's eyes lit up with excitement as she noticed Gavin carrying another sword. She recognized it immediately.

"That's the Dark Sister, the family sword of House Targaryen," she exclaimed.

Gavin smiled, handing it to her.

"It is. And now it belongs to us."

He gestured toward his dragon, Syndor, whose massive, golden-scaled form was waiting nearby.

"We'll fly back to the Stepstones. There's plenty of time to discuss things on the way."

They climbed onto Syndor's broad back. The dragon spread its immense wings, each flap sending gusts of snow and dead grass swirling into the air. The ground below darkened as the dragon rose, its shadow casting a foreboding silhouette over the frozen landscape.

Syndor soared skyward, its golden wings cutting through the frigid air. Soon, they passed over the Great Wall. Flying openly like this ensured that news of their journey would reach the Iron Throne swiftly.

The flight was long, and as dusk approached, the fiery hues of the setting sun painted the sky. Gavin, sensing Blazing Shadow's fatigue, commanded the dragon to land near the Inn of the Kneeling Man.

As the dragon descended, its shadow darkened the ground, sending nearby travelers into a panic. Merchants and mercenaries below shouted in terror.

"Dragon! It's a dragon!" someone screamed, dropping their goods as people scattered in every direction.

Syndor landed with a powerful roar outside the inn, his golden scales shimmering in the fading light. Gavin and Daenerys dismounted, and the tiny Viserion, perched on Daenerys's shoulder, hissed and clawed at the air. Gavin laughed, flicking Viserion's head gently.

"You had the easiest journey," he teased. "Not even the wind touched you."

Inside the inn, the once-lively crowd had retreated in fear. The proprietress, Martha, approached nervously, her hands trembling as she twisted the hem of her apron. Viserion hissed at her, making her halt in her tracks.

Daenerys quickly soothed Viserion while Gavin took out several gold coins, handing them to Martha with a reassuring smile.

"I apologize for frightening you. Here's compensation for your trouble. Please prepare us some food and a room. Also, I'll need five sheep from your fold for my dragon."

Martha stammered, her voice trembling.

"S-sir, that dragon… it's terrifying. I—I dare not go near it."

Gavin chuckled softly.

"You don't need to. Just drive the sheep to the door, and I'll handle the rest." He nodded encouragingly.

"Go on, now."

Martha hesitated but scurried off to fulfill his request. As the inn settled into an uneasy calm, Gavin and Daenerys prepared to rest, the mighty Syndor standing sentinel outside.