We rode north, under clouded skies and fading stars. The city was far behind us now, and with each mile we put between us and King's Landing, I felt the weight on my shoulders ease—but only a little. Ned Stark still lay in the cart behind me, wrapped in a cloak, unconscious.
Bless Syrio to even bothering to bring a cart, otherwise I might have had to share a horse with him throughout the journey.
Unfortunately, the man refused to travel with us any further north. Even for money, he didn't do it. I had suspicions that he only took the task to escort the girls out, out of a sense of duty and not exactly money.
Though that was exactly why I asked for his help, knowing what kind of person he was, knowing his actions in the series.
Arya wasn't happy, of course, when he decided to leave, but we can't tie him up with us. Staying with us is dangerous enough; I can't push him to do it. Arya too understood the matter.
So now we were only four people, two girls and one man unconscious. If this wasn't me and anyone else, then perhaps this situation could have been very dangerous indeed.
I doubt anyone from King's Landing especially would try to ambush us while I'm here. I should have left quite an impression, at least that was the plan.
Used up all my saved up points. Had three upgrade points left after winning the Tourney, killing Baelish, and finally using Varys to free that Faceless man, and ended up using all of them to upgrade all three attributes.
Godly Body at lvl 2 and Thunder at Lvl 2 didn't show that much difference to me. Of course, I got strong physically and channeling lightning got easier for me. However, the massive lightning bolt I used wasn't the lightning which I generated, that is still not strong enough. It was the thunder brought down from the sky with the combined effort of my Lvl 2 Thunder stats and Lvl 3 Mjolnir.
Mjolnir, though, there I finally saw a big upgrade. The hammer can fly now. I can't fly yet, it's still lacking much power for me to soar through the skies, but still, now I can throw the bloody hammer for some sort of long-range attack and summon it back.
A critical part of Thor's fighting style which I was lacking. Out of all the upgrades, Mjolnir was the best.
I'm still a little skeptical whether all this trouble was worth going through for the old wolf. Though now I at least know why I was so focused on saving him.
It again comes back to my word. I promised to save him. This was another example of how this unknown and visible force, maybe magic, influences my decision making.
Thor's personality does, but that is something I can control—my instincts—but what happened back in the city was different. I have to be very careful about what I say from now on.
At least I know this much: words have power. Mine specifically.
Sighing, I looked back at the man who was the center of all this drama. Still sleeping soundly.
I significantly held back while hitting him, so him still being unconscious doesn't make sense. Must be something to do with being in the dungeon all that time. Oh, I'm definitely up for a rather nasty talk when the man wakes up.
Arya rode beside me, fidgeting with the reins of her horse. Well actually, she was sitting on the same horse pulling the cart, just because she wanted to. We, after all, only had two horses and I just can't believe the reins of the horse I'm on, in the hands of a 10-year-old girl.
"You still haven't told us," she said, eyes narrowed. "One moment they're about to kill Father, and then a storm conveniently hit King's Landing and thunder fell near the execution stage, you take advantage and escape with him. You expect us to believe that?" Arya all but glared at me. This was the umpteenth time she had asked me this, and I now began to just ignore her altogether.
The girl was perceptive, a little too much for comfort sometimes. I didn't answer. Her stare was sharp, like a blade pressing against my side.
Sansa, more quiet but just as curious, was sitting in the cart with her father. "Please, my lord… we only wish to know how you saved him. You have our thanks, but... it felt like a miracle. I... just wish to show my gratitude and nothing more." Sansa asked, as she noticed I finally started to avoid Arya's questioning completely. Maybe she too wished to know how?
"It matters not, my lady. Consider the Seven conspired with the Old Gods to bring this boon to life and leave it to that. Mortals are not in any position to question the actions of gods," I said. "Your father lives. That is enough. Is it not?"
Arya huffed. "You're hiding something."
"Besides my overwhelming urge to find a woman and bed her or my dread of being back on a horse for another moon, I assure you there is nothing else."
"Swear in the name of Odin," Arya sent a glare at me.
"Odin's Beard..."
"..."
"What was that?"
"You asked me to swear and thus I did."
"You know that's not what I mean."
"Well, I did it now so you must settle with that."
"Huff..."
Gotta say, Arya had the heart of a warrior, and might accept my word after a little bit of distracting—but Sansa… Sansa had been raised on songs and the faith of the Seven. My powers would be seen as unnatural, perhaps even wicked. I would not risk planting fear in their hearts when they needed hope.
Well, that also depended on what the sleeping man does after he comes back to the land of the living. Follower of the Old Gods he might be, but I doubt that even Ned Stark would willingly accept someone like me near him or dare I say near his daughters much willingly.
Then, a sound. A low groan from the cart.
Ned Stark stirred.
Speak of the devil.
"Father..."
"Ahh... Sansa."
"By the Seven, I thought you... you..." Sansa's eyes moistened but she held her composure.
"What happened?"
He sat up slowly, wincing, hand going to his head. His grey eyes opened, sharp and confused. He looked around, then spotted me.
"You," he growled, voice hoarse. "You struck me!"
I turned in my saddle, met his stare. "Aye. I pride myself as a man of my word. Gave you my word to save you and your daughters. As you can smell, you got your wolf cubs here, unharmed. However, if you recall, I also said that my fist would find your face once we are out of that horrid city." I shrugged.
"You knocked me down like some traitor—"
"A traitor who saved your life and will be taking you home soon. Quite an honourable traitor I'm turning out to be, won't you say?"
He scowled but said nothing. Maybe because he partially didn't wish to antagonize a man who can bring down lightning.
Both Arya and Sansa, hearing the exchange between us, were baffled. But didn't ask any questions.
"We need to talk..." Ned Stark seemed like he wished to cut me open and see for himself whether I was some sort of eldritch monstrosity in the hide of a human, but he refrained from openly discussing what happened back in the city.
"You'll have your answers, Stark. However, for now, rest. Gather your strength. We are still in the Crownlands; entering the Riverlands should be our main priority right now."
To this, the man grunted and lay back down.
"I suppose I should thank you. I owe you in this regard," he said finally, after his eyes once again fell to his two daughters. Their safety was the most important to him.
xxx
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