[The Riverlands]
The Riverlands' air felt different from the salty wind of the sea. The rolling green fields, dotted with farms and rivers, should have been peaceful—but Thor felt nothing but unease in his chest.
Perhaps he had felt this way ever since he lost his hammer. Calling it lost would be wrong, for he still couldn't summon it back to himself.
Even now, he was unable to.
They had finally landed near Riverrun. Thor handed over a heavy pouch of gold to the ship's captain, his jaw tight as he did so. Rightfully so—he had burned himself to earn that gold in the tourney, almost getting killed in the process.
But the man had kept them safe, and Thor was no stranger to paying debts. Parting with his winnings stung, nonetheless.
"Seems like you lost half your fortune, my lord," Ser Hugh remarked dryly, tightening the belt of his armor.
Thor grunted. "Fortune can be won back. Lives cannot. The man earned his due."
Arya, standing nearby with her hands on her hips, smirked. "I bet you could've just scared him into taking less."
Thor gave her a sharp look but said nothing. He would rather not talk about the huge hit his wallet had just taken.
Sansa was more polite, curtsying slightly to the captain before they left.
Not long after, Hugh stopped at a crossroads. His eyes lingered on the mountains in the far east. "This is where I leave you," he said. "The Vale is my destiny. I wish I could do more for you, but…" He trailed off.
Sansa's lips pressed together. "You've already done more than enough. My family will remember your help."
They both knew the words were polite, but they said them anyway.
Arya, blunt as always, simply said, "Don't get yourself killed."
Hugh chuckled softly. "You too, little wolf." He looked once at Thor and gave him a respectful nod. "Guard them well."
Thor returned the nod but reminded the man of one thing. "Make sure Lysa Arryn knows the truth…"
Hugh paused, remembering the original agreement. If he had once considered ignoring it, he could no longer think of doing so after seeing this man call lightning from the sky to destroy an enemy ship.
He wasn't the only one who understood—both girls had seen it too, though neither spoke of it. There was a tacit understanding between them; it was obvious Thor wasn't planning on explaining what had happened anyway.
With Hugh gone, the three pressed forward toward Riverrun. But the further they went, the less safe the roads felt. Farms were abandoned, smoke rose in the distance, and the faint sound of iron-shod boots echoed across the fields.
Thor's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of the banners—red lions on golden cloth. Lannisters. Far too many of them.
Arya spat on the ground. "Lannisters. I hate them already."
"Stay quiet," Thor warned, pulling the girls closer behind him. "We'll try to pass unseen."
"What are they doing here?" Sansa asked, a troubled look on her face.
"War," Thor said simply.
He tried to recall any intel from his memories, but nothing came to him. He knew Tywin would call his banners; chaos would erupt eventually.
But why here, at Riverrun? Not to mention, they had mobilized so quickly. How?
He let the matter go, ultimately. When he couldn't find answers, he focused only on getting the girls out safely.
But fate had other plans. As they turned a bend, a column of riders appeared directly ahead—at least fifty men armored in Lannister crimson and gold, their spears glinting in the sun.
The leader pulled his horse to a stop and narrowed his eyes at them. "Halt!" he barked. "Who goes there?"
Thor's grip tightened on the strap across his shoulder. Once again, he remembered that Mjolnir wasn't there.
Without Mjolnir, he wasn't sure how long he could protect the girls, but there was no choice.
No—if he gave his all, he could win. But how was he to do that while keeping the girls safe?
"We're travelers," Thor said evenly, his deep voice carrying across the road. "Headed to Riverrun."
He tried not to provoke a hostile situation. If possible, they might pass without conflict.
Unfortunately, it wasn't that easy.
The Lannister captain tilted his head, studying them. His eyes settled on the two girls, and recognition flickered. "By the Seven… aren't those the Stark girls?"
They didn't know exactly what they looked like, but together they were enough to identify them.
Arya instinctively reached for the dagger at her side, but Thor held out a hand to stop her.
"You must be mistaken," Thor said flatly.
But the captain grinned like a fox cornering a rabbit. "Oh, no mistake. The wolf pups of Winterfell. The queen will pay handsomely to have them back." He raised his hand, signaling his men forward. "Take them alive."
Sansa's face went pale. "Thor…" she whispered.
Thor's jaw clenched.
"FUCK."
He stepped in front of the girls, his cloak whipping in the wind. "If you want them," he said, voice booming, "you'll have to come through me."
The captain laughed. "One man against fifty?"
Arya growled, "He's not just any man."
The Lannister soldiers advanced, their spears lowering. Thor looked to the girls. "Stay behind me. Do not run, no matter what happens."
Sansa clutched Arya's hand, terrified. "What will you do?"
Thor didn't know either.
...
[King's Landing]
The dungeon was damp, the air thick with the smell of mold and iron. Chains rattled faintly as Varys shifted against the wall. His fine robes were gone; his smooth head now bore bruises, and his face was marked by days of torture. Yet even here, in the darkest place of the Red Keep, his voice carried calmness.
Across from him, Eddard Stark sat, bound but upright. His gray eyes studied the eunuch.
"Surprised to see me here, my lord Eddard Stark?" Varys said in a mocking voice, though he seemed to be mocking his own condition more than Ned.
"Tell me," Ned asked, not interested in Varys' self-pity, his voice rough from thirst. "Tell me of my daughters. Are they alive?"
Varys let out a long breath and then chuckled. "Yes, Lord Stark. Alive. Though not in King's Landing anymore."
Ned leaned forward, chains clinking. "Where? Tell me everything."
Varys smiled slowly. "Who knows, my lord Stark? Who knows. But I can tell you they were safe. I wouldn't be here otherwise."
Ned closed his eyes for a moment, relief washing over him. "Thank the gods… and Thor, too."
"They were seen sailing away," Varys continued. "And just days later, your enemies here suffered an unexpected blow. Joffrey Baratheon—poisoned before he could even be crowned."
Ned opened his eyes, startled. "Joffrey… dead?"
"Yes." Varys' lips curled into the faintest smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "The lioness, Cersei, has turned the city upside down since. She blames me, of course. And so… here I am." He lifted his bound hands, showing the bruises and cuts from Cersei's wrath.
Ned frowned.
Varys continued, "She believes I had a hand in her son's death. She will not listen to reason. Every hour, her men ask questions, demand names."
Silence stretched between them, broken only by dripping water. Finally, Ned spoke, voice low. "My daughters are safe. That is all that matters to me now."
Varys tilted his head, studying the northern lord. "Safe for now, yes. But the game of thrones does not end with Joffrey's death. Another will sit the throne soon. And war…" He sighed. "War is certain."
Ned's jaw tightened. "Yes. If anything is certain, it is war."
He muttered to himself, praying for Robb.
...
A/N : Okay, what do you think will happen next ?
xxx
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