Sincerity?
The aged voice echoed in Lynn's mind, carrying a hint of cautious probing.
Seeing Lynn relax,
the Three-Eyed Raven on the floor finally dropped his abject posture.
He straightened again, regaining some of the dignity befitting an ancient being.
The atmosphere was no longer one of unilateral judgment and oppression.
An equality born of mutual wariness quietly formed between man and raven.
"That's right. Sincerity."
Lynn's voice was calm.
He reached out and soothingly scratched the chin of Winter's icy-blue head on the left, feeling the hardness of the cold scales.
The head rubbed comfortably against his palm, a faint purr rumbling in its throat like some strange cat.
"If we're going to cooperate, you need to offer something I can see and touch."
Lynn's gaze returned to the raven.
"My terms are simple. Three things."
He raised one finger.
"First, I need weapons."
"The two Brynden Rivers used."
Lynn distinctly sensed all three of the raven's eyes fixing on him.
"The Valyrian steel sword, Dark Sister."
"And the Weirwood Longbow."
Lynn enunciated every word.
The raven went rigid.
Those two weapons had been the most striking symbols of Brynden Rivers's status as a Targaryen prince and Hand of the King.
They were the glory that had accompanied him throughout his life, and his only link to his past after his exile to the Wall.
He was also very fond of both weapons.
A long silence followed.
"...Very well."
Only after a long while did the aged voice force out those words, as though they had exhausted all his strength.
"They lie buried beside my rotting bones, north of the Wall. I will have the White Walkers deliver them to you outside the walls."
"Good."
Lynn's expression remained unchanged as he raised a second finger.
"The second thing."
"I