Rest

At daybreak.

Gary and Arya found a small town near the Kingsroad. Exhausted after traveling all night, they planned to rest here for a day.

A tavern in town was packed with mercenaries and bandits who operated in the surrounding area. A foul reek of alcohol filled the entire ground floor, making the place even more filthy and oppressive.

Gary pushed open the tavern door and approached the counter with Arya, carrying bags of luggage on his back.

"How much for a day?"

The owner was washing a cup and replied casually, "Two Copper Stars. If you want the best room, that's seven Copper Stars a day."

Seven Copper Stars? Wasn't that one Silver Stag? What a rip-off. Why so expensive?

Gary frowned. This was the town's only tavern, so he had no choice.

He opened the purse Robb had given him. Only three Silver Stags remained inside. Still, he had Snow's purse and those twenty-seven Gold Dragons, so he had no shortage of money to spend.

As for Catelyn's jewelry... better leave it alone.

Gary took out two Silver Stags and placed them on the counter. "One night, and send some meat up to the room."

The owner's eyes lit up. He quickly pocketed the Silver Stags, then turned to take down an iron key and handed it to Gary. "The room is at the very end of the upstairs corridor. The food will take a little while. We'll bring it straight up once it's ready."

"All right."

Gary took the key and suddenly noticed that his surroundings had grown much quieter.

His lavish spending just now had drawn everyone's attention.

These people were mercenaries and bandits who lived by the blade. Having their attention was no good thing.

Gary sneered. He raised his left hand high and slammed his fist into the counter.

Bang!

A large dent instantly caved into the wooden counter, intimidating everyone present.

"Sorry. My hand slipped."

He offered a cold apology, then flicked another Silver Stag to the owner. "For the counter. Bring the food up as soon as possible."

With that, he took Arya by the hand and went upstairs.

Only after Gary had gone upstairs did the mercenaries on the ground floor begin whispering, all speculating about who this stranger might be.

"From his accent, he sounds like he's from up north..."

"Ah!"

One mercenary suddenly thought of something and said secretively, "White hair, eyes of two different colors, and incredible strength. Do you think he could be House Stark's White Wolf?"

Quite a few bandits from the North had made their way into the Riverlands. Stories of the White Wolf had spread by word of mouth.

Upstairs in the tavern.

Gary had no idea he had such a nickname. He first settled the drowsy Arya into bed, then began sorting through the luggage himself.

There were not many pieces of luggage, but they were all fairly bulky: three rolled blankets, a wooden box containing the Ice Spear, two Valyrian steel swords, a large bag of dried meat and black bread, and a hunting bow with a quiver holding eight or nine arrows.

Oh, and Catelyn's jewelry box.

He also had several small items hanging from his body, such as three purses and a waterskin.

"Ah, there's so much to carry. Traveling is exhausting too."

Gary began sorting things out, unrolling the three fur blankets. He wrapped the Ice Spear in the first blanket, allowing him to discard the heavy wooden box.

He wrapped the two Valyrian steel swords in the second blanket. He normally used the Ice Blade against enemies anyway, so he had no use for them for now.

He kept the third blanket for warmth when sleeping outdoors.

Then he consolidated the purses. Taking out his treasured hide purse, he poured all his coins into it.

He stopped using the three House Stark purses and put them in the jewelry box.

Once he had finished, Gary strolled to the window. Looking at the whitening sky, he sighed. "Traveling day and night without even having time to enjoy the scenery along the way. What an ordeal."

He decided to slow down for the rest of the journey, sightseeing with Arya as they traveled.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Your food is at the door, sir. Could you come get it?"

Gary opened the door and took a large platter of roast meat and bread from the owner. "Thank you."

The owner asked, "Would you like some ale, sir? Our ale is quite good too."

"No."

Gary turned and placed the bread and roast meat on the wooden table in the room, then moved to close the door.

The owner hurriedly asked, "Will you need another meal this afternoon? It'll still be one Silver Stag." A big-spending customer was hard to come by, so of course the owner wanted to milk him for more.

Gary's face turned cold. "No. We need a proper rest. Please don't disturb us."

With that, he shut the door.

Outside, the owner could only leave awkwardly. "A noble, all right. So arrogant..."

Inside the room.

The moment Gary turned around, he saw that Bingling had suddenly appeared on the table and was tearing into the roast meat on the platter.

When did it fly in?

Gary glanced at the open window and already had his answer.

He went over and sat at the wooden table. "Leave a piece of meat for Arya. She hasn't eaten today."

Bingling could not speak. It merely rolled its eyes, then swiftly devoured all the roast meat in no time.

Its belly bulged round as it sat on the wooden table and let out a satisfied burp.

"I told you to leave a piece of meat... ah, forget it. I'll go down and buy more when Arya wakes up." Gary stroked Bingling's little head as he spoke helplessly.

Bingling picked its teeth, then pointed at the other plate of bread. Its meaning was obvious.

That human cub could just eat bread. The meat was all mine!

Gary saw through its thoughts and laughed. "Speaking of which, how did you become a dragon? No, no, I should ask where you got the Dragon Egg."

Bingling wrote on the wooden table, "We had one stored away."

The Children of the Forest had a Dragon Egg stored away? Why hadn't the show ever mentioned that?

"Then how did you hatch the Dragon Egg? Hatching a Dragon Egg requires Targaryen blood. The Three-Eyed Crow may be a bastard of House Targaryen, but is his blood pure enough?"

Gary asked another question.

Bingling looked at Gary in surprise and wrote, "Why would it need human blood? Were dragons created by humans?"

Gary slapped his forehead. That was right. House Targaryen had merely tamed dragons. Dragons had existed in this world long before their ancestors, the Valyrians, had tamed them.

In other words, dragons did not need human intervention to reproduce. Naturally, they did not need any human bloodline either...

"Then you'd better grow up quickly, so you can carry me through the skies."

Gary thought that since Bingling had been born several years before the Dragon Queen's three dragons, it would surely grow larger than them later. Heh, once Bingling took those three on as underlings, he would have four dragons.

Bingling lay listlessly on the wooden table. "I grow very quickly. In a year or two, I'll be able to fly with you on my back."

Gary yawned. His whole body ached, and he needed rest too.

He ate a piece of bread to fill his stomach, then scraped the writing off the table with the Ice Blade. "I'm going to sleep. Make yourself at home?"

Gary went to the bed and pushed the soundly sleeping Arya toward the inside, taking the outer side himself. Luckily, it was a large double bed, so it was not cramped at all.

He took off his shoes, climbed into bed, pulled the blanket over himself, and slowly closed his eyes.

Once Bingling saw that he had settled down, it flew to his pillow, curled into a ball, and fell asleep with him.