"Thor… Odin Son…
My Firstborn. My Heir.
So long entrusted with the mighty hammer Mjolnir, forged in the heart of a dying star. It's a worthy companion for a king. It could be a weapon for mass destruction, or it could be a tool to create," said Odin while I was just observing the other not-so-significant characters, the details Marvel put into the construction of Asgard and its glory.
I have seen this so many times by now that I was no longer interested in the old man's dialogue. In fact, I had two thoughts about just skipping this section and directly jumping to where the action happened; however, no can do.
I promised to enjoy the old classics without my impatience ruining the fun. If I did it once, then surely I'd do it with other movies as well, which I didn't want.
I'm just a simple student who also happens to do part-time work on the side to keep living in this expensive city and make just enough money to survive outside of paying for my university. Sometimes, I wonder why I wasn't born into a wealthy family. That sure would be nice. However, which man doesn't? Outside of those who have a car and multiple chicks hovering around them, all due to their old money.
Sigh.
There I am again, thinking of things that do me no good. I bring nothing but depression my way, which will lead to me wasting my entire day again by listening to either sad songs or motivational videos.
I'm not having it. I decided to spend my off day decently this time around. So there were only two things I could do: hang out with friends or explore the endless amount of entertainment media out there.
The first one would have been my choice if not for all my friends being back in the town I came from. As for making new ones here in the city? I never tried, and I don't think my wallet can afford to hang out with them.
The latter was much more economical. However, the challenge was deciding what kind of entertainment I was looking for. I was already feeling empty, and if I jerked off any more, my dick would fall off. I was tired of those agenda-driven games and movies.
So I was surprised when I found an entire collection of "Things I Will Watch Someday…" on my computer in some hidden pathway on my drive. If I could, then I surely would like to ask my past self why he downloaded these movies and shows if he wasn't planning on watching them. And even if he did, why hide them so deep? It's not like there was any black material in here he was trying to conceal.
I'm afraid I don't know myself. And for my mental peace, I long ago stopped questioning why, even after having 4TB of storage, I usually only have 10GB free on the best of days.
So my decent fun day turned into a hunt for those hidden files my past self hid due to a lack of anything fun to do. That was last weekend. And now I plan to use all that hard work and watch all these old movies and shows.
Almost everything was available on OTT platforms, yes, but I just get confused over what to watch there. This was much easier to handle. Not to mention, these old movies and shows were miles better than the garbage they put out nowadays.
As expected, I started with Marvel. I used to be a big fan back then, but after She-Hulk, I lost all hope in humanity.
There were many movies and shows here that I had actually watched before, but I just felt like revisiting them. And today, I was going with Thor, one of my favorite childhood heroes besides Iron Man and Spider-Man.
Even after years, I could remember these movies almost perfectly. I used to watch almost all MCU movies like a man possessed when Marvel was dominating Hollywood. Arguably the best movie franchise outside of Harry Potter and Star Wars. Maybe Fast and Furious is up there somewhere.
As the movie continued, I saw Thor attacking the Frost Giants and then getting banished by Odin, becoming unworthy to lift Mjolnir.
"Ah, Mjolnir. If there was one thing I wanted besides a girlfriend—only to tease my other single friends back then—then it had to be this hammer… Sigh, good times."
Soon, Loki attacked Earth with the Destroyer armor. Thor almost died, but by plot armor, he became worthy again, and the hammer came flying to him like my recent tax files.
BOOM! The hero started kicking the villain's ass.
Good movie. Not the best in the lineup; I like Ragnarok way more than the other two, but this one also has its charm.
Just as it was about to end, I saw something I couldn't remember in the movie.
"Stop! What are you doing? Get up!" Loki shouted as he barely stopped Thor from falling off the Rainbow Bridge after Thor destroyed the section and caused a huge explosion.
"Wait a minute, isn't this the other way around?" I paused the movie and pondered whether I remembered it wrong.
But just as I was wondering, the video started once again.
"Huh?"
"Thor, come back up!" Odin appeared and tried to pull both Thor and Loki. Yes, I remember this happening, but Thor was holding Loki in the movie, not the other way around.
"Wait a minute, that doesn't matter… How come the video started again?" I pursed my lips and hit the space bar again to pause it, but no luck.
"Hanged?" A scowl appeared on my face. This old computer was another source of frustration in my life.
I tried to move the mouse or close the window, but nothing. I was able to open another file—not sure which one it was—expecting to close the current movie when another one started in the player, but to my utter irritation, it started in the background while the current movie was still playing.
"Great… What music… Wait, is that the Game of Thrones theme? I have that show in here?"
[Game of Thrones Theme]
So that's why I hid it?
"Brother, let go! Let go!" Thor said to Loki, who was barely holding him from falling into outer space. This was wrong. When did this happen? And if that wasn't enough, the GOT theme was making this unnecessarily epic.
I tried to stop the movie, but the computer was completely hanged. Frustrated, I turned to pull out the power. However, what I saw put me in a daze…
The switch is off?
Narrowing my eyes, I double-checked it, but the same result. This was one of those moments when people start questioning reality. I blinked and, just to make sure, pulled out the cable altogether. However, the music continued.
Now a chill ran down my back. Slowly turning to the monitor, I saw sparks thundering out of it and the PC.
Eyes wide, I just watched as fire caught my PC, and lightning dazzled around.
"NO… No… Thor!" Loki shouted as he saw Thor falling. I, on the other hand, was too stunned to even realize I was back to watching the damn movie when it should have been out of power. On top of that, it almost felt like the entire thing was about to blow up any second now.
"I assure you, brother… the sun will shine on us again…" Thor said, looking right into me from the screen.
And then, I heard a blast before everything went blank.
"Ah…" Letting out a growl at the uncomfortable place I found myself sleeping, I couldn't help but try to reach out for any warmth I could find. My hands and legs moved around to find the blanket, which I usually had lying somewhere nearby on the bed.
This feeling was not new. The cold and chilly air always woke me up. I had a nasty habit of getting myself out of the blanket while sleeping, you see, but today, it felt extraordinarily cold.
I moved around but couldn't find any warmth or comfort to prolong my sleep. Finally, though unwillingly, I opened my eyes.
I shouldn't have. The first light assaulted me, almost making me blink, not to mention the white sheets of my bed today reflected more light than they ever had in my entire existence.
"Wait a minute." And that was when my mind caught up to reality.
"This ain't my bed. This is snow. Where the fuck am I? Where is my room?" I jerked up, trying to get to my feet but immediately lost balance and fell back onto my butt.
"Dang…"
The snow did cushion my fall, but I hit something extremely hard while falling back down.
"Motherfuc…." Almost cursing, I clutched my head as pain rang inside me. It almost felt like my skull would break open.
'Okay… calm down, calm down.' I shouted internally to myself, though doing that was extremely hard, seeing as I was in a complete wasteland filled with snow.
Looking around, I noticed nothing but snow and trees.
"Where am I?"
If not for the bursting headache, I would love to take out my phone and post to others that I had traveled. At least something could come out of this ordeal.
'Wait, my phone.' I realized and immediately searched my person to find the magical device that had enslaved modern humans.
'Nothing…' I couldn't find it. Hell, what the hell was I even wearing?
Looking down, I found myself in some sort of hard armor-like clothing. It was almost black with silver touches here and there, along with some sort of arm guards.
Upon closer inspection, I could tell that they were one of those light leather armors from games and movies.
"What happened?"
My body refused to move. It felt foreign honestly, so I lay flat until at least my head stopped killing me. While I had some time in this predicament, I tried to recall what happened.
How did I get here, and where is "here" exactly? It took some time, but finally, it clicked—from watching Thor to my PC exploding right onto my face.
'If I survived, then this should be the hospital, shouldn't it?'
Once again, looking around, I didn't find any sexy nurse or fancy equipment. Hell, even if I could spot a building wall, I would have taken that as a sign that maybe I survived.
But… isn't this place lacking in temperature for being hell? It can't be heaven. Aside from my personal track history, which makes me doubt that I'd go there, I once again couldn't seem to find those sexy angels most would consider heaven-worthy.
"I'm probably going mad, talking nonsense when I have to check where the hell I am." Singing, I finally got up—or at least tried to. The foreign feeling came again. I lost balance and almost fell face-first, but this time, I was ready.
The first thing I noticed was the height difference. I was definitely much taller than I used to be.
Second, I noticed the bloody place was freezing me from the inside out.
"I fucking need to build some fire." Shivering, I pressed down my uncomfortable senses and looked around to find wood or anything to build a fire, only to see an object of great significance lying on the ground, surely the same one that gave me this bump on my head.
It dazzled slightly in the sunlight, while the excellent craftsmanship put a novel presence around the object, which I had seen countless times.
"Mjolnir?" I blurted out, and like the hammer heard me, it slightly vibrated to my voice.
Now things were really getting strange. But for me, it didn't matter. For any MCU fan, this was the time to find out whether they were worthy or not.
Gulping, I took small steps forward, maintaining my balance to not fall again. After checking that no one was watching for some reason, I bent down and wrapped my hands around the hammer's handle.
"Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of… THOR…" I pulled the hammer with all my strength, almost doing a somersault in the attempt, but the hammer didn't resist at all. Hell, even the usual weight I was expecting wasn't there. It felt like a toy in terms of weight.
I raised the hammer high while shouting, but nothing happened. Let alone the sky darkening and thunder roaring, I didn't even see so much as a spark of electricity.
"Well, of course, it's a bloody stage prop…" I sighed, though sometimes, acting like a kid is fun.
Again looking at the hammer, I had to say the thing was surprisingly realistic. It was light, like plastic, but looked very solid, giving me enough confidence that I might even put a dent in my landlord's head the next time he asked for rent.
Shaking my head, I let it go. Now wasn't the time to play around. I had to figure out where the hell I was.
Letting go of the hammer felt surprisingly hard for some reason. As it fell to the ground, which I have to say again acted like a real dense weapon, I felt like I had lost something.
Again shaking my head, I turned around. I had way more important things to do besides debating this sudden unhealthy obsession I had developed with a hammer.
However, just as I took a few steps, I realized something.
'This is a wild jungle, and I'm completely defenseless…' This thought immediately made me stop. I once again turned back, looking at the hammer, which also had a magnetic pull effect on me.
"Maybe not the real deal, but it looks sturdy enough. Better have it than go empty-handed…" I muttered. After convincing myself that I wasn't making things up just to get the hammer for myself and letting my inner fanboy win, I moved forward to pick up the hammer again—only to stop suddenly.
Gods only know why, but my body betrayed me, and sneakily, my hand opened its palm toward the hammer.
Hoping for it to come flying at me. And….
"And nothing happened. Stop wasting time and get the damn thing already." I grumbled to myself and took it.
"Got to find where the hell I am now…"
Okay, this might sound crazy, but I think I've become Thor.
I know… I know, crazy, right? But how else am I supposed to explain all the changes that have happened to me?
At first, I was too overwhelmed to notice. Waking up in an unknown place with my body completely out of whack, my mind wasn't exactly working at full capacity. It wasn't until after I finished playing around with Mjolnir that I finally started to realize the obvious differences in my body—something I really should have done the moment I woke up. But again, my brain was not braining back then.
I'm pretty sure this isn't my body. For starters, the insane muscle mass I have now would put any gym bro I used to know to shame. My entire physique looks like it was sculpted out of marble—like a Greek god. Or, well, in this case, a Norse god. In short, I'm jacked beyond reason.
My hair is long and blond now, a stark contrast to the short, messy black hair I used to have. Even my voice is different. I haven't had the chance to see my face yet—no mirrors or reflective surfaces in sight—but the absence of my usual birthmarks is proof enough that this isn't the body I was born with.
At first, I tried rationalizing it. Maybe I just lost my memory. Maybe I had been working out like crazy during that time. Hair can be dyed, and voices can change over time. It would explain why I woke up in the middle of nowhere, though not the fact that I'm clearly taller than before. Then again, without a measuring tape, that part could just be my imagination.
When I couldn't come up with any definitive proof, I did what any reasonable man in my position would do—I pulled down my pants and checked. And, oh boy, what a sight it was. Giving my baseball bat a run for it's money, this things was definately not my thing.
Believe me if there existed a situation to increase once size then I would know... Oh the possibilities I have with this on my side.
Case closed. This is definitely not my body.
Pulling up my pants, I couldn't help but grin. If nothing else, at least there were some perks to this bizarre situation. It was yet another reason to get out of this desolate snow-covered forest.
As for why I think I'm Thor, well, there are many reasons. From the uncanny similarities between my new body and Thor's to the presence of Mjolnir, it all added up. But the biggest reason? The memories of Thor slowly resurfacing in my mind… and the glowing system screen floating right in front of me.
[Thor Template Activated.] [The Host shall have the power of Thor and beyond as he progresses through the system and earns points to upgrade one of three aspects of Thor by completing missions.]
[Host Attributes:]
Godly Body - Level 1
Mjolnir - Level 1
Lightning - Level 1
[Base MCU Thor is 10 across all attributes.]
I could only gawk at the holographic screen. Now, I won't pretend I have no idea what's going on. I've read way too many fanfiction stories to not recognize a system when I see one. But to die, get reborn, and get a system of my own?
What should I say? I'm honored? Sigh…
At the very least, this confirms one thing—there's no way home for me. That thought took a while to settle in.
And in that moment of uncertainty and frustration, I started noticing the changes in my mind—not just my body, but my thoughts as well.
"What will happen to Mother and Father?"
That was the first thought that popped into my head. And it should have been normal—if my parents hadn't died when I was ten. My uncle raised me. No, I wasn't thinking about them. I was thinking about Odin and Frigga.
That was… unsettling. My memories were still my own, but Thor's memories were dominant in my mind, trying to merge with mine.
I needed to do something to break out of it.
So, I did something I never thought I would do—I picked up Mjolnir and started hammering away at a poor tree. Believe me, this is not how I usually handle stress. But right now, my first instinct was to smash something with Mjolnir. And I was good at it.
Though my strength was only at level one—similar to when Thor lost his divine powers—sheer effort alone led to six trees falling before me.
I felt like a beast. Never in my life have I felt this strong, and this was me without any of Thor's actual powers yet.
Sigh… It took me some time to come to terms with everything. But once I did, I returned my attention to the system. If I needed to complete missions to unlock more of Thor's power, I should check what my first task was.
[First Mission: Find out where you are.]
Ah, great. I was hoping the system would just tell me.
If only Mjolnir had its full power so I could fly up and get a bird's-eye view. But it looks like I'll have to upgrade it first.
Base MCU Thor is level 10 across all three attributes according to the system. That means I'll need to complete 27 missions to reach his level. It's a long way to go…
As I mused over what I should do next, my senses suddenly picked up something. Even though I was just a human right now, Thor's instincts were still sharp.
My body tensed on its own, slipping into a battle stance that I recognized from Thor's memories. If muscle memory was a thing, this had to be it. Good thing gods worked the same way in that regard, or I'd be in serious trouble. I just hoped that, if it came down to it, this body knew how to fight.
The sound of footsteps grew louder, accompanied by haggard breathing.
Tightening my grip on Mjolnir, I stayed vigilant until I finally spotted a person running toward me from deep within the woods.
No, not a man—a boy. A teenager, about my age… well, my original age, anyway.
He was dressed in black, his face pale and panicked as he ran straight toward me. But the moment he saw me, he skidded to a stop.
'Hope he understands English, or this is going to be a long one.'
"Hello, I am Thor Odinson. Might I ask who you are? And while we're at it, where exactly are we?" I asked, not even realizing I had referred to myself as Thor until after the words left my mouth.
Something was definitely strange. My mind was my own, yet Thor's memories were overwhelming, seeping into my identity. Then again, with over 1,500 years' worth of memories crammed into my head, maybe that was inevitable.
The boy hesitated, clearly assessing me. He was unharmed, while I stood here holding a weapon. Naturally, he was wary.
Yes, Mjolnir did look strange from a historical standpoint. A weapon like this was impractical, with so much weight on one side and barely any leverage from the handle. No normal person could wield it effectively.
It seemed like he was about to say something—until his eyes shifted from the hammer in my hand to something behind me.
His already pale face turned ghostly white. His eyes widened in terror.
A cold sensation crept over me, and before I could even process what was happening, Thor's instincts flared once more, forcing me to turn around.
And when I did, my own eyes widened in shock.
"Shit…"
The moment I turned around, I saw someone standing so close that my—or rather, Thor's—instincts kicked in. Before I knew it, I was swinging Mjolnir at the person, knocking them back with enough force to send them crashing to the ground with a definitive crack. Back home, that alone could have landed me in prison.
"Shit..."
I froze, realizing what I had just done. For the first time, I felt a bit relieved that both I and the hammer were only level 1. Hopefully, the guy was still alive.
"Hey... are you alright?" I asked, my voice laced with guilt. I stood motionless, waiting for any sign of movement from the person I had nearly killed.
A low groan finally escaped from them, and I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. At least they weren't dead—that was good. Just as I was about to move forward and help him up, I froze again. I hadn't expected him to recover thisfast.
Technically, that should have been a good thing, but something about this person felt off. His glowing blue eyes locked onto mine, rendering me motionless yet again.
"Scaaaa..."
Before I could react, he lunged at me from his position on the ground, nearly making me jump back in surprise.
"The hell..."
It was only thanks to my beyond-human reflexes that I managed to dodge him—barely.
He fell back, and that was when I noticed something horrifying: a sizable dent on the side of his head, as if his entire skull had cracked and sunk inward... yet he was still moving.
'How the hell is he still alive?'
My mind started racing. I had assumed I was in the MCU, but since when were zombies a thing there?
I desperately wanted to deny it, but the thought nagged at me—there were versions of the Marvel Universe infected with a zombie virus.
'God forbid... but please, not that world.'
Even cosmic beings like Eternity weren't safe in that version. If that was where I was, my survival chances were looking grim.
As my imagination spiraled into worst-case scenarios, the zombie launched at me again.
This time, I didn't back down. My body moved on its own, sidestepping with precision before swinging Mjolnir with full force, sending the creature flying back with another sickening crack of bones.
But just as I caught my breath from that near jumpscare, I saw the damn thing rise again.
"It won't work! They're not afraid of iron! Run!"
The voice snapped me back to reality. I had almost forgotten about the boy I saw earlier. At least I could understand him—so no language barrier.
"Scaaa..."
Another guttural screech tore through the air, pulling my focus back to the immediate threat.
"RUN! We need to go!" the boy shouted.
The thought of running crossed my mind... but for some reason, my body refused to move. Instead, I stood my ground, a surge of confidence welling up inside me, as if the very idea of retreating was unacceptable.
And then it hit me—Thor's centuries of battle experience and warrior instincts were kicking in. Maybe it was his ego, but I wasn't running.
"Haaaa...!"
Before I knew it, I was charging at the zombie, Mjolnir in hand. I swung down with all my might, crushing its legs while it was still on the ground.
A deafening scream echoed through the area before I slammed my hammer onto its back and left it there.
I silently prayed it would work like in the movies.
To my relief—and to the utter shock of the boy—the zombie continued thrashing, but no matter how much it struggled, it couldn't get up again.
"Seems like you're not worthy," I muttered, a smirk threatening to form on my face.
---
"So, your name is Will, and you're a ranger of the Night's Watch?"
"Aye, Milord," he responded.
'Milord?'
"What do you call this place, Will? And what were you doing here?" I asked, ignoring the strange way he addressed me.
"It's beyond the Wall, Milord. I... was scouting before... before they found us."
His nervous gaze flickered toward the tied-up zombie—White Walker, he had called it.
For a moment, I considered just burying the thing ten feet under and being done with it, but my instincts told me otherwise. So, leaving Mjolnir atop the unworthy White Walker, I turned back to Will, determined to gather as much information as possible.
"Do you know how to kill it?" I asked.
Will shook his head but hesitated, as if there was something he wanted to say but was holding back.
"Alright... tell me about the land beyond that Wall of yours."
At my question, Will gave me a strange look—almost as if I had asked him whether the sky was blue.
"It's the North, Milord. One of the Seven Kingdoms in Westeros. The land ruled by His Grace, King Robert Baratheon."
Westeros.
I knew that name.
Not from the MCU.
Not from Marvel.
But from somewhere else.
And only now was I beginning to understand where I really was...
And I didn't like it.
MCU was dangerous, sure, but at least it was modern enough for a 21st-century guy like me to settle into. But this?
This was Game of Thrones.
A series I never even finished watching, let alone read the books for. Were the books even finished?
I stood up as the realization hit me, making Will flinch as if he had somehow offended me.
Having Thor's memories came in handy here—at least I understood how medieval monarchy worked. But right now, I couldn't care less about Will.
I was too busy trying to suppress the bubbling irritation and anxiety inside me.
Hacking away at a few trees was starting to sound really appealing.
[Congratulations on completing your first quest. You now know where you are. An Upgrade Point has been allocated to the Host.]
The system's notification snapped me out of my daze, momentarily distracting me from the heavier topics I wasn't planning on addressing anytime soon.
**[The system classifies quests into three categories:
Final Quest – Completing it unlocks another world, granting full access to the new world. Rewards 3 upgrade points.
Main Quest – Related to Story Progress and they are mandatory quests. Reward 2 upgrade points.
Side Quest – Unrelated to story progression, Side Quests provide Upgrade Points like all other quests. They are not mandatory, could deny the side quest if he wishes so. Reward 1 upgrade point.
Unknown Quest - Not much known about this quests, they solem appears and host is advice to take caution before accepting one. Reward Unknown.
Damn...
And here I thought I was stuck in this primitive world. Couldn't the system have told me this earlier?!
This definitely motivated me to get the hell out of here.
[Final Mission: Kill the Night King.]
...Of course.
Rolling my eyes, I stood there, fully absorbing my new reality.
"Milord?"
Will looked concerned. I had been silent for way too long, just staring at the air.
Finally, I sighed and spoke.
"Take me to the Wall. It's time to alert the Realm of Men...
Winter is coming."
The journey to the Wall and Castle Black was a freezing one. I almost forgot about the cold, too distracted by Thor's memories assaulting my mind, the reality of being reincarnated, ending up in the Game of Thrones world, fighting ice zombies, and, if that wasn't enough, the system now wanted me to kill the endgame boss.
Yeah, too much had happened.
To keep both mine and Will's attention away from the bitter cold, I kept the conversation going. The poor boy was freezing, thanks to me taking his Night's Watch cloak and using it to bubble-wrap Mr. Zombie here so I could drag it back to Castle Black.
He didn't protest, but I could feel his glare drilling into my back. I wasn't sure if he was cursing me for making his balls freeze off or for bringing a literal corpse to the people who were established to fight said corpses.
Unlike him, though, I had a clear purpose. I might not have finished the TV show or read a single page of the books, but one thing was certain—the sooner the world learned about the White Walkers, the better. Especially for me. Maybe, just maybe, if they stopped fighting over that damn monstrosity of a chair, they'd send all that manpower where humanity really needed it.
That meant I could leave this godforsaken, internet-less, electricity-deprived world just a little faster.
If only I had all of Thor's powers from the get-go, I wouldn't have to go through this "Unite Humanity" nonsense. I could just fly to the Night King's hideout and crush his head. Sigh.
So, while freezing with Will, I kept questioning him—not just to keep us entertained, but also to refresh my knowledge of Westeros and the Game of Thrones world in general.
Soon, the forest thinned, and by the gods, I had to admit—HBO's VFX had nothing on what I was seeing.
The Wall, in all its glory, was more magnificent and enormous than I ever imagined. It was one of those sights that humbled you, making you realize you were nothing more than dust in this infinitely vast and ever-expanding cosmos.
"That's the Wall."
Will must have noticed my awed expression, and a small smile appeared on his face. Though I had been the one asking most of the questions, he had also asked a few about my origins.
Maybe it was my clothes—practically identical to Thor's, minus the metal armor and red cape. I definitely looked like a noble. And if I looked anything like Chris Hemsworth, mistaking me for royalty wouldn't be too far-fetched. Especially in Thor's getup.
"Aye, let's go. I'd rather not drag this corpse any longer than necessary," I said, since I was the one hauling the bound-up zombie through all this heavy snow.
"Milord…"
Will was about to say something, but I cut him off.
"Forget it, Will. In your condition, if I handed this thing to you, I'd just end up dragging two corpses to the Wall."
I joked, but there was truth in my words. The boy—no, the man, by Westerosi standards—was in no shape to handle this. Not only was he shivering thanks to me stealing his cloak, but he had little to no muscle on him. He was already exhausted from his earlier encounter with the White Walker, and I didn't want to put more pressure on him.
I needed him to explain the situation on my behalf to the Night's Watch. The White Walker itself was proof enough, but having Will's testimony would help.
He tried to take the load from me multiple times, but I could tell it was more out of fear regarding our social statuses. His nervous fidgeting made it obvious.
I could tell him I wasn't a noble, but that would only cause problems for me later. Best to keep my mouth shut for now.
Gotta come up with a believable backstory soon.
At the foothold of the Wall, we had to wait no less than ten minutes before the gates finally opened. Maybe the Night's Watch used their pitch-black cloaks to identify their own from atop the Wall—because I didn't see how else they could determine we weren't a threat.
Which was ironic, considering I wasn't part of the Night's Watch.
However, when the gates finally opened, and five men on horseback rode out with their swords drawn, I suddenly wasn't so sure about my assumptions anymore.
"Will… what are you doing here? And who's this?"
The man leading the group pointed his sword directly at me.
Will stiffened, visibly nervous.
He had already told me how deserting the Watch meant execution. I didn't need the reminder—I had seen the show. But judging by his fear, whoever had died in his group must have been someone important.
Under normal circumstances, it would make sense for Will to be afraid. But we had proof of what happened. I wasn't about to let his panicked stuttering make things worse.
"I am Thor Odinson," I declared, stepping forward. "I found this ranger of the Night's Watch while I was lost in the woods. He was attacked by a White Walker. I wish to speak with your Lord Commander."
I made sure my tone was firm—this wasn't a request.
I was usually a peaceful guy, but people here didn't speak that language. If they mistook me for a noble, I might as well use the misunderstanding to my advantage.
And it worked.
The leader hesitated, taken aback by how I spoke. The other four scrutinized me from head to toe, their gazes lingering on my finely crafted hammer.
Mjolnir didn't fit the conventional mold of a weapon—it was too impractical in both shape and weight distribution. But its craftsmanship alone was enough to tell them I wasn't some wildling.
"White Walkers? They're nothing but stories," one of the men sneered.
I sighed. Then, without a word, I dropped the large, human-sized bundle I had been carrying onto the snow.
The impact caused a muffled, inhuman scream to rip through the air.
That single sound wiped the smug look off the man's face. The horses whinnied in panic, their riders struggling to control them.
"Then why don't you come down and see for yourself?" I said, my voice cold and imposing.
The men exchanged uneasy glances.
"It must be an animal," one muttered.
"No animal sounds like that," another said, shaking his head.
"Will, explain yourself. What's in there?"
The slightly older member of the group stepped forward and asked this in harsh tone.
"Alliser…" Will's voice trembled. "He… he speaks the truth. I—I couldn't save them. I told him to turn back, but he didn't listen. I—I couldn't do anything, so I ran…"
He was hyperventilating.
The now Alliser narrowed his eyes, I didn't remember him from the TV show but It's but years since I watch Game of Thrones so going by my memory wasn't the best idea.
"Who is this man?"
Seeing Will struggle to respond, I stepped forward. Immediately, their swords were back on me.
I simply sighed. "Save it. I'm not the one you should be afraid of."
A man scoff. "No one's afraid of you."
I didn't bother replying. Instead, I knelt and loosened the bindings around the bundled-up White Walker.
"Scaaaaaa…"
Even with its mouth stuffed with cloth, the White Walker let out an ear-piercing screech.
The Night's Watch's mighty warriors went pale.
It thrashed violently, its limbs still bound, but nearly lunged at the nearest horse, causing chaos among the riders.
I grabbed it by the head, forcing its face into the open for all to see.
"That," I said, my voice like steel, "is who you should be afraid of."
A stunned silence fell over them.
"By the Seven…" someone whispered.
Alliser's eyes widened in shock. He glanced at me, then back at the creature, before snapping to his men.
"Call Lord Commander Mormont."
But he wasn't the only one in shock. His men fared far worse. Seeing their stunned expressions, he barked out,
"Didn't you hear me, maggots?! Call the Lord Commander NOW—
TELL HIM WINTER HAS COME!"
"By the Old Gods, what is that monstrosity?"
"Seven protect us! Why has this stranger brought this cursed creature here?"
"Seven Hells! Why did the Lord Commander even let that thing inside?"
"Burn it! Burn it! The stories say they fear fire!"
The men of the Night's Watch gathered, horror and trepidation in their eyes as they stared at the creature caged inside the cellar. When fear began to creep into their hearts, humans often decides to strike first. Even though the White Walker was behind bars, completely restrained, people demanded its execution, demanded it be burned. It wasn't them speaking; it was their fear.
"Yes… burn it.
Burn it and burn the last hope for humanity along with it, you halfwits."
I shouted, growing annoyed by their cries. My voice immediately brought pin-drop silence to the cellar.
No one had expected such an outburst from the new guy, but I wasn't about to let them have any bad ideas about the zombie. It was imperative to safeguard the White Walker until its existence became known to others.
"Burn it, and no one in the South will believe that the dead are lurking beyond this Wall. Burn it, and no men will come to our aid when hundreds of thousands of these things start marching on the wall. Burn it, and every sacrifice made by the brothers of the Night's Watch, those who have long ended their watch, will be for nothing."
I shouted, and finally, the men protesting the most quieted down.
But there are always those who make things difficult.
"My Lord Commander, this man bringing this thing here is a bad omen! Don't fall for his words! We can't have this demon—"
"Lord Thor speaks the truth. For how long has the Night's Watch bled and frozen its blood? It was for this day. We are here to guard the realm of men—the realm of living. This here is proof that our ancestors didn't build the Wall for nothing."
Before the man could finish spouting his nonsense, another voice resounded.
It was none other than the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, Jeor Mormont. He was an old, burly man with completely white hair, yet he looked as imposing as hell.
"But Lord Commander, this thing is a sin against the Seven, and—"
"Enough. We are done here. The White Walker will stay in the cellar until all the Lords of the North are made aware of it. That is final."
The Lord Commander's authoritative voice finally silenced the man who had been protesting.
"Disperse, all of you. Alliser, Benjen, Will, Maester Aemon, and Lord Thor, please follow me to my cabin—we need to talk," Jeor Mormont ordered before turning to leave.
I was reluctant to follow him, though. Seeing the reaction from these Night's Watch members, I was afraid that someone was going to try something really stupid.
"And Qhorin, Yoren… make sure none of these bastards do anything foolish," the Lord Commander added as he walked out of the cellar.
"So, you're a traveller who lost his way and ended up beyond the Wall, where you met Will, who was attacked by the Walkers? And you saved him while also capturing one? You expect me to believe that?"
Alliser spoke after hearing my generic background story, which contained little to no information about my past.
"Aye, you believe the dead can walk, yet you don't believe a living person can get lost?"
I shrugged as I fought a hard battle not to drink the wine they served me. I never drank in my old world—partly because I was still underage, but also because I never planned to.
I intended to refuse the wine and ask for water, but then I realized water could contain algae and bacteria—one of the reasons people drank alcohol so much here.
As for why I was resisting, well, it was because of Thor's instincts. He used to drink a lot.
Even without his powers, I was sure I could handle liquor better than most with this body, but I'd rather not get addicted to it.
"I never believed they existed—until today. Until there was proof."
Benjen Stark, the brother of the Warden of the North, spoke.
"And the proof came from the same man you don't believe," I replied.
Silence filled the room. Only the sound of the fire crackling could be heard. Every so often, I caught people drifting their eyes from me to the shiny hammer I had placed on the table.
"I believe you, Lord Thor. For the time being, the hospitality of the Night's Watch is yours, my lord," Jeor Mormont finally spoke.
"Just Thor is fine. 'Lord' doesn't go well with my name," I smiled, hoping to ease the tension.
"You have done us—and the realm of men—a great favor. Your actions could determine the outcome of the war that will surely come," the old man said. He looked like he was a thousand years old or something. Though I didn't have much right to talk about age, considering I now aged over a thousand myself.
"Thank you, Maester Aemon."
I nodded at the old man, not even realizing that the Maester was blind.
"Will, what can you tell us about the Walkers?"
Benjen Stark asked. Out of everyone, he looked the most concerned. Well, aside from Alliser, who just looked scared.
That led Will to explain what had happened to him and the two rangers who were with him. Needless to say, there wasn't much to gain from his story—no major information that could give me an edge. However for the others, it was informative.
"Swords didn't work? Then how are we supposed to fight them?" Alliser Asked.
"Test it out, once we run out of the use of that Walker. Fire, heights, poison, drowning—there have to be things they fear. Otherwise, they would have long since marched on the Wall."
I spoke, even though I already knew that fire, dragon glass, and Valyrian steel worked against them. I couldn't just tell them outright.
And the fact that I knew all three meant that my mind had started sorting through all those extra memories. I didn't feel like I could remember everything about the story, but this was a good start. Hell, even if I did recall things, they might be wrong. I shouldn't have read so many fanfics—I no longer knew what was real and what was made up.
"Yes, we have time for that. For now…"
The Lord Commander trailed off and looked at the black-haired man sitting to the side.
"For now, we need to tell this to my brother. The North has to know—winter is coming," Benjen Stark finally spoke.
"Aye, you do that, Stark. And Maester Aemon, I want all the Lords of the North informed. Send all your ravens," the Lord Commander ordered.
"They'll never believe it. Not until they see it with their own eyes," I interjected before Maester Aemon could speak. Maybe the old man had intended to say the same.
"Then ask them to come here. This is important," the Lord Commander decided after a moment of hesitation. He, too, knew no one would believe him.
"Does the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch have that much power—to summon all the Lords of the North?"
I genuinely asked. I had never thought they could do that.
"No… but we expect at least a few of them to show up. Even a few, once they see it, will be enough," Mormont replied.
I hummed to myself. "Telling them one by one won't be effective. It's not just about informing them—we also need to decide how the North, and by extension, the entire Seven Kingdoms, will act against this looming threat."
"Oh it's 'We' already? What does this have to do with you? Your balls itching for glory?" Alliser scoffed from the side.
This 'Lord' act wasn't going well with people who actually held power before. And somehow, I didn't even remember this irritating asshole. A character like this should stand out, right?
"It's 'We' because when the dead come, it don't differentiate. They won't come after you any sooner than me just because you lack balls… you A HOLE."
I saw the Lord Commander and Benjen Stark about to shut Alliser up, but I beat them to it. The man glared at me—I returned the favor with zeal.
"And besides, it's not like I know where home is at this point, even Maester Aemon don't know where Asguard is. I never heard of Westeros before coming here. So chances are I'll be getting involved one way or other." I added finally, to reduce down the tension once again.
For few seconds no one spoke until finally Benjen Stark open his mouth.
"Let's not be hasty here, before we send out any raven, let's inform of this to my brother. Once this known to him he gonna call all the lords of the north anyway."
"Agree. You should leave by dawn break." Jeor Mormont agrees.
"Will he believe you just by your words, to the point of calling his bannermen?" Maester Aemon asked with doubt.
"Yes and no, he mostly likely will believe me but without seeing the thing for himself, he won't be calling his bannermen."
"Don't tell me you intent to take the walker to Winterfell ?" Lord Commander asked with narrow eyes.
"Huh no no… gods no." Benjen immediately shook his head.
"Then how? You intent to bring him back here, that gonna take took much time."
"Actually, I might have an idea about that…" seeing them overcomplicating things I spoke up.
As just as I was explaining my plan I got this notification.
[New Main Mission - Winter Is Coming]
[Warn North and the rest of the kingdoms about the existence of White Walkers]
"Tell me why I'm being dragged to Winterfell again." I couldn't help but whine upon seeing no sight of the ancestral home of House Stark. It had already been two days since we left Castle Black for Winterfell, and the journey was taking a toll on my back as well as my mental stability. There's only so much one can stare at the chilly, wide lands of the North before getting tired, after all.
"Because you're the one who fought the Walker, captured it, and even devised this plan. It's only natural that you come and meet my brother while we discuss this grave matter," Benjen Stark replied. I definitely saw a little smirk on his face—the man was enjoying my misery.
As for why I was miserable, well, it's because I had to agree when Benjen Stark asked me to accompany him to Winterfell. In any other case, I wouldn't have, but the new mission demanded that I ensure the North—and by extension, the other kingdoms—knew about the existence of the White Walkers.
My butt wasn't liking this journey any better than my dopamine sensors. For the first time in my life, I had to ride a horse. Now, Thor knew how to ride, unlike me, and by extension, I too knew how—but doing it and knowing it were two different things. Even Thor never rode a horse after getting Mjolnir, so relying on his memories to do it was like trying to hack the Pentagon on my first attempt.
However, I had time to learn on the way. It wasn't like we were drag racing with the horses—it was a peaceful enough journey across a somewhat chilly land. But that time started to weigh on me. It turns out that the boredom that comes with riding a horse for two days straight is maddening. I needed something—anything—to pass the time and forget my back pain from sitting in the saddle for so long.
For those who have read the books, this was obvious, but not for me—I had just realized how ridiculously big the North was. The TV series never showed the sheer scale of this land, so I assumed the distance between the Wall and Winterfell would be short enough. But nope.
It was apparent to Benjen almost immediately that I wasn't used to riding horses for this long. He didn't voice it, but I could see him taking amusement in my plight. At least one of us wasn't bored out of his wits. I had to thank him, though—the man slowed our travel speed so I could keep up.
At first, I even doubted I could ride a horse at all. Unlike me, the horse didn't have a system to make it worthy, after all. But to my utter confusion, I could mount it just fine with Mjolnir—as long as I am the one helding on to the hammer and not the horse.
I'm still unsure how this worthiness enchantment works, but my best guess is that it detects the intent behind someone or something's actions. As Captain once said, "Put the hammer in an elevator, and it will still go up."
"Here we are."
While I was busy decoding the secrets of All-Father's runic magic, Benjen spoke up. A grin broke across my face—finally, the journey was coming to an end.
In the distance, the ancient castle of Winterfell came into view. Said to have been built by Bran the Builder, this castle had lasted over 8,000 years. Nothing back on Earth came close to this feat. And even to this day, it wasn't just standing strong—it was thriving.
Magic, no doubt. I can't think of anything else that could achieve this.
As we entered Winterfell's gates, I was stunned to see the entire Stark family lined up, waiting with admiration and reverence—aside from Lord Eddard Stark, of course.
"What's going on? You don't get this grand of a welcome every time you come here, do you?" I asked Benjen, who also looked taken aback by the scene. But upon hearing me, he shot an annoyed glance.
"You think I would've joined the Night's Watch if that were the case…?" he retorted before moving his horse forward with ease. I, on the other hand, had to try five different things before my damn horse budged.
Then I realized what was happening—they weren't here for us, but for the King. This moment was in the TV show, but I didn't expect our timing to match so perfectly. Good for me—now, not only the North but even the King and, to some extent, the entire Seven Kingdoms would know. Maybe I could complete the main mission right here.
"Benjen, what are you doing here? Is everything all right at the Wall? I didn't receive any raven about your arrival," Ned Stark asked as soon as we dismounted. My back and butt silently thanked the Old Gods.
"Yes, everything's fine. But I have something important to discuss. I didn't send a raven because the matter is urgent and needed to be discussed with you in person," Benjen replied.
"What is it?" Ned Stark asked, his expression growing serious upon seeing his brother like this. But Benjen just shook his head—he couldn't exactly say they had captured a White Walker out in the open, could he?
"Later, brother. First, you should receive the King and his family," Benjen said, knowing full well the storm this revelation would bring. It was better to discuss it later in private.
While they were talking, I looked around the castle and the Stark family. They were all staring at their uncle in black and, more than anyone, at me. Even though I had a black cloak on, it was obvious from the rest of my attire that I wasn't part of the Night's Watch.
The entire family—and even the servants—broke into murmurs and whispers. I didn't care much. I just looked for a few familiar faces, trying to recognize them from the HBO series.
I spotted Catelyn Stark, who was observing me with the poised scrutiny of a highborn lady. She was beautiful, I had to admit—very similar to her actress in the show, but much younger.
Robb Stark, Bran Stark, Rickon Stark, and even Sansa Stark—who was practically a little Catelyn at this point, given how much she resembled her mother—all looked strikingly similar to their HBO counterparts.
'Is it just me, or is she blushing while looking at me…?'
I couldn't help but return a bashful look. I knew she wasn't blushing at me, but at Thor's face. Still, it felt good to be handsome nonetheless.
Back at Castle Black, I had finally seen my own face in a mirror, and damn, was I amazed at how I looked now. Almost identical to Chris Hemsworth—but younger. I don't know why, but I looked like I was in my late teens, maybe 17 or 18. I could only assume this was because I had been the same age back on Earth, and the system had given me Thor's teenage form. The only thing I don't get is this strange marking on my back which I only saw in the mirror while posing like those Body Builders I wanted to look like.
No Idea what that is but there was no pain or inflamation, it looked like a tattoo the way it was looking but I could tell that wasn't it. It's a strange birth mark, that the only way I could describe it for the time being.
'I wonder how old he was when he looked like this… 500? 700?'
Shifting my gaze, I started looking for the real stars of the show—Arya and Jon Snow, two of my favorite characters.
But that thought didn't last long before Ned Stark turned to me, his face contorting as if he were remembering something. He stared at me for a few seconds, scanning me from head to toe.
Was I really that handsome? Or had he caught me staring at his daughter?
"Your Royal Highness…"
"huh ?"
"Handsome..." That was the only thing on Sansa's mind when the prince of her dreams entered through the gates of Winterfell. Then and there, she knew—this was the person she had been waiting for all this time.
Those muscles, those long golden hair, those striking blue eyes, and by the Seven, that dashing face... For a few seconds, Sansa completely forgot that her uncle Benjen stood right beside the prince.
Her mind didn't have the luxury to even question why the Prince of the Seven Kingdoms would arrive together with her uncle or where the King and the rest of his family were.
No… for Sansa, none of that mattered. She only looked at the man in front of her, feeling her heartbeat rise—so much so that she thought it might burst out of her chest.
And she wasn't the only one under this delusion. Her siblings, her mother, and even the Lord of Winterfell assumed that this person was none other than the Crown Prince himself.
She was flying on cloud nine—until her Prince Charming spoke.
"I'm afraid you are mistaken, my lord. I'm not the Prince." I hastily corrected them, seeing what kind of misunderstanding was brewing in everyone's mind. Even Benjen, standing beside me, was glaring at me like he had just suffered a heart attack.
Unlike his brother, the Lord of the North, Benjen wasn't accustomed to dealing with many lords outside of the North. So, almost immediately, he believed what his brother had assumed.
I could see everyone looking at me with strange expressions, especially Ned Stark, who seemed unable to believe what I had just said. But when I didn't add anything more, he felt a little embarrassed and turned to Benjen, as if silently asking, Who is this?
"He is Thor. He's the reason I came here in the first place. We have a matter of great importance to discuss with you," Benjen said, now just as confused as the others.
I couldn't blame them, though. It must've been my timing—and my looks. With this blond hair, I definitely looked like a Lannister. I couldn't help but chuckle to myself internally, not even realizing that while I was amused by the misunderstanding, a certain girl stood there, gaping.
All her dreams had just plummeted faster than her heartbeat had been racing a second ago.
"He's not the prince?" Arya asked, confused. She had never seen a prince before, but even she could tell that this man looked very much like one. She also noticed her sister making that idiotic face—the one she always had when dreaming about an imaginary knight coming to take her away.
Robb was thinking the same. If this man isn't the prince… Unconsciously, he had now set a high bar for the real one.
Catelyn was now observing the man in front of her even more closely. As a highborn lady, she had met many nobles, but even she had to admit—there was something different about this man. He couldn't be just an ordinary person.
"Pardon me, I mistook you for someone else. I'm Ned Stark, Warden of the North," Ned finally spoke, coming back to his senses.
"I'm Thor Odinson. Glad to meet you, my lord," I replied with a smile. I noticed that he was still looking at me keenly—only the Old Gods knew what those eyes were searching for.
I saw him open his mouth again, clearly wanting to say something, but before he could, a horn was blown, drawing everyone's attention back to the gates.
This time, it was truly the King's entourage. I quickly nodded at Ned Stark before moving to stand beside Benjen. I knew my looks would make me stand out, but I really should have thought of a way to avoid this earlier. Now, there was nothing I could do about it.
As the entire royal entourage entered, a fat man struggled to dismount his horse, needing help from others before making his way directly toward Ned Stark. That was the King himself. Behind him were some of the most iconic figures in this world—the Queen, her children, and her brother, the famous Kingslayer.
I kept my mouth shut the entire time. To maintain a low profile, I stepped behind Benjen, as he was a Stark and belonged in the front.
The King soon began greeting the Stark children, while the Queen made her way forward to have her ego stroked—by making Ned Stark kiss her hand. It had been a long time since I had watched the show, but seeing everything play out live refreshed my memory.
However, I wasn't doing as good of a job of hiding as I thought. Suddenly, the Queen's eyes fell on me, locking me in a tense stare.
I quickly broke eye contact, not wanting to give that crazy woman any reason to make trouble for me. But it seemed like trouble was hell-bent on finding me anyway. I saw the Queen looking at me intently before making her way toward me.
I internally prayed she wasn't coming for me—but all hope was dashed when she stopped right in front of me and raised her hand.
It took me a moment to realize what she was doing. "My Queen, I am not a Stark. I don't deserve—"
"I'll allow it," she interrupted.
I had been trying to escape the predicament, but Cersei immediately shut me down. Gotta admit, now that she was standing this close, she was beautiful. If only she could do something about that permanent scowl on her face.
Unwillingly, I took her hand and softly kissed it.
"Who are you?" It was a straightforward question. She looked directly into my eyes as she asked, and only the gods knew what was going through her mind.
"I'm Thor. Thor Odinson."
Even after I answered, she kept looking at me. Slowly, her scowl morphed into a strange expression—one I couldn't quite recognize.
"How old are you?" she asked suddenly, catching me off guard. Besides my real age being a complicated matter, why did she even care?
"I'm 17..."
"What?" Cersei's eyes narrowed. I had totally forgotten that people here were weird with their numbers.
"Ten and seven name days old, Your Grace," I corrected myself, forcing a small smile to cover up my slip.
She still didn't respond. Instead, she gave me another glance—one that lacked her usual scowl but carried something else entirely—before finally turning around and walking away.
"What was that about?" Benjen hurriedly asked once the Queen was gone.
"I know no better than you do," I shrugged. What could I say? That woman was half-crazy. Best to keep my distance.
Benjen, on the other hand, gave me a hard look. First, his brother mistook the man he had brought as the Crown Prince. Now, the Queen was suddenly taking an interest in him. Benjen didn't like it.
It didn't help that neither he nor the Night's Watch knew anything about me. Well, at 17, I was a man, but calling me a boy wouldn't be wrong. It was just that, unknowingly, I or to be exact Thor carried an aura that made him stand out.
"Ned, take me to her," the King said immediately after greeting his old friend and family. I was just relieved he hadn't noticed me.
"We have been travelling for a moon, my love. Surely the dead can wait," the Queen spat, her scowl returning. She earned a glare from the King for that.
"Take me to her, Ned," Robert completely ignored his wife's complaint and followed Ned Stark.
Cersei looked like she was ready to murder someone. She flashed a fake smile at Lady Stark before marching inside Winterfell with her children.
However, just before she disappeared inside, she turned back—almost startling me—and gave me another strange look before finally leaving.
I won't lie—I was starting to feel uneasy. Mixing with that woman had never brought anyone good fortune. And in my current state with all stats being level 1, I couldn't afford to get caught up in her schemes.
I saw a few more notable people in the entourage, but now that both the King and Queen were gone, I just wanted to get away from all these watchful eyes as soon as possible.
So, I just ended up following Benjen and keeping my dead down as much as possible. However, again, it turned out that I was attracting unnecessary attention by just being there. I saw Jaime Lannister looking at me, and so was the Crown Prince.
"Be my hand, Ned. You belong in the Crownlands by my side," Robert Baratheon, the King of the Seven Kingdoms, finally said, making Eddard Stark's assumption come true. He knew why Robert was here, and he found himself overwhelmed by the proposal.
Did he want to be the Hand of the King and go south? No. Only the old gods knew how much he hated the South. But this was his brother—all but in blood—and his king who was asking him. He couldn't find it in himself to refuse. So, Lord Eddard Stark kneeled, following his honor and duty like he always did.
"Your Grace, you honor me."
"I'm not honoring you. I'm asking you to run my kingdom while I whore and drink myself to an early grave… Come on, Ned, get up. We were meant to be brothers, to rule together. You helped me get the Iron Throne; now help me run it." Robert laughed and was ready to leave the Stark cemetery after meeting with his only love, Lyanna.
"And, Ned, we must join our houses. You have a daughter, and I have a son. This time, I'll make sure there will be a Northern queen in the Red Keep." Robert Baratheon said, more like decided unilaterally, and walked away.
"Robert…" That was when Ned Stark called his friend. Maybe he wanted to refuse to go south. Maybe he had a weight on his conscience regarding his bastard's true origins. Maybe he didn't want to marry his daughter into the South. But what came out of his mouth even confused Robert Baratheon.
"Joffrey is your firstborn ?"
"Yes… Who else could it be?" Robert looked at his brother-all-but-in-blood with confusion.
"Nothing… Just asking." Ned shook his head. It was his imagination, after all.
"Why are you acting like that? A lady shouldn't play with her food," Septa said, making Sansa even more frustrated.
"I'm not playing."
"Then where is your smile? Look, the prince is looking at you. You shouldn't avoid his gaze. Give him a smile." Septa pointed at Joffrey, who was indeed looking at Sansa—more like waiting for her to notice that he was looking at her. But the girl never once looked at him. Her eyes mostly remained on her food while she pretended to eat, occasionally roaming to the entrance as if waiting for someone.
Sansa, finally noticing Joffrey's gaze, gave him a forced smile before pretending to be shy and averting her eyes.
"He pales in front of Thor," Sansa muttered under her breath, but the Septa heard her.
"Don't compare that Night's Watch man with the Crown Prince," Septa said in an unusually harsh yet hushed tone, making sure no one else could hear her.
"But it's true. Thor looks 100 times more princely than Joffrey," Sansa replied with a little heat, though her voice remained hushed as ever.
"Shush… Appearances can be deceiving, child," Septa pursed her lips and said, though she very much understood how her best student had developed such infatuation with a man she had just met today and had seen for less than five minutes.
For all her virtues learned from the Seven, even she had to agree—the Night's Watch man looked more princely and was undeniably handsome.
But that didn't mean she could let this infatuation develop into something else.
"He's not with the Night's Watch," Sansa muttered, her eyes roaming once more toward the gate. She wasn't the only one. Many girls and women were disappointed by the absence of the once uninvited guest from the Wall.
And the Queen was one of them.
However, her reasons were different.
Cersei, for once in her life, couldn't figure out what she wanted. She had always known what she wanted since childhood, and she had always gotten it—either by money or other means.
But today, she wasn't sure.
From the moment her eyes had laid upon that man, she had been in a strange mood.
'Do I fancy him?'
She first asked herself this, and only got a half-hearted response. It wasn't often that she found a man more charming and handsome than her own brother after all. Any woman would want to have that man's company, and in that regard, Cersei found herself no different.
But was it lust that had driven her to walk up to him this morning?
No.
There was something else—those long golden locks, that face. She couldn't pinpoint it, but she knew this wasn't just mere lust.
If it were, she would have long since tried to seduce him—if not outright order him to warm her bed. She was the Queen, after all; she could have anything she wanted.
And yet, her heart beat differently around him.
Not just lust, no… something else.
And thus, she too found herself, ever so often, looking around the feast hall, searching for Thor—the man who had brought chaos to her mind for some reason.
And while her eyes roamed, she saw her husband groping a wench, bringing back her trademark scowl.
My hand trembled as sweat dripped from my head. I found myself sitting alone in a dark room with no light source. A candle had been provided to me, but I turned it off to stop any improvement in my impromptu training of controlling my thunder power.
'Are you Thor, God of Hammers?'
That line had been disturbing me from the start. If the system modelled my power according to MCU Thor, then surely I should be able to use thunder—even at Level 1. But it was immediately evident that I couldn't.
Or, to be exact, not without the help of Mjolnir.
Thor had this problem in the MCU, only resolving it after losing his hammer. I thought I would be better, but I was wrong. It was very hard to concentrate thunder without Mjolnir's aid.
Sigh… I let out a sigh and grabbed the hammer lying beside me, picking it up and concentrating once again…
"Zi. Zi. Zi Zi…"
And within seconds, the hammer lit up with weak yet bright lightning sparks in the dark room.
"It's good… for party tricks, that is," I rolled my eyes. This level of thunder was better suited for charging my phone on the go—not for fighting. I had to admit, the lightning was weak.
And I was slightly disappointed.
But not disheartened.
I expected it to be weak—it was still at Level 1, after all. By Level 10, I should reach Base Thor's starting level in the MCU. So, power wasn't the issue. I just had to add points by fulfilling tasks.
No, my real disappointment came from not being able to use lightning without Mjolnir. By MCU Thor's standards, this was normal—he was never able to control his powers without his hammer.
In this case, being modelled after Base Thor was a limiting factor.
I had to learn to use lightning without Mjolnir myself.
I just hoped it was possible. If it was limited by the system itself, then I'd be so mad. But my estimations said it shouldn't be.
The power had always been in Thor—he just didn't know how to use it.
I didn't intend to be like him.
Right now, I might possess the power of Thor, but I was just a slightly more powerful mortal with a shiny hammer in a dangerous world. Getting attention from the Lannisters wasn't helping my case, either.
So, after finally getting some free time, I locked myself in this room and started training—willingly missing the feast.
Hell, I wouldn't have gone even if I was invited.
It seemed that after getting that little bit of attention from the Queen, even Benjen was wary of showing my face in front of the King's entourage.
He, too, didn't bother inviting me.
Well, good for me in the end.
I sighed and tossed the hammer aside, going back to my training.
But there was no improvement.
"Grrr…"
Suddenly my stomach roared. Protecting to get something to eat. I can't help but sigh again, there was no shortage of food in Winterfell for their guess but it's usually something a modern man with a modern taste palate like me would eat only in the most dire of times.
Today was different though, there was a feast going on, I most likely wouldn't get food like this after today for a long time
"I guess… With great power comes great hunger as well."
"HA..."
"Ha..."
"Whoa..."
"How long is he going to continue that?" someone asked.
"Don't know, he's been at it since morning," another replied.
I just tuned out their murmurings. At first, it was disturbing, seeing them all looking at me like I was an animal in a zoo, but after four hours of nonstop practicing, I no longer had the energy to think about them anymore.
Last night, I tried my best to use lightning without the hammer, but all I could get out was a single spark—and that was only when I was getting angry at my useless attempts. And though anger has always been a source of power for Norse and Greek gods, I do not consider it an improvement.
I can't always rely on anger to use lightning like that, and power driven by anger is often uncontrollable and destructive. I felt like banging my head against a wall when my stomach started protesting harder, and sleep was making me dizzy amidst nothing but failure.
So, after that one spark of lightning caused by my anger, I just fell back onto the bed, deciding to leave the matter of lightning for the time being. If possible, I'd allocate daily training time for that—it could be a good pastime and definitely a necessary one in this godforsaken era of no entertainment.
First thing in the morning, I attacked the Winterfell kitchen, grabbed whatever they gave me, then took my dear hammer and rushed out to train. Last time, Thor's fighting experience and muscle memory saved me. It was good, but only against an unintelligent zombie.
Against real seasoned knights and skilled swordsmen, I wouldn't stand a chance—not until I got mighty strong, that is. That would surely happen soon, but the argument stands: just having raw power won't do me much good if I don't have the skills to wield it properly.
So, training was necessary. I'm lucky in this regard as well—Thor has a lot of memories of fighting, and he has developed a distinct style of combat that suits this body very well. I just have to replicate it with his memories. The fact that these muscles are already accustomed to those movements is just the cherry on top.
It actually wasn't the body that was the problem—it was the mind. My mind is not used to making battle decisions on the fly. That is one skill I lack right now, and only Thor's battle instincts saved me when I fought the zombie.
Thus, I have to iron out both my body and mind before I find myself in another battle. So, here I was, going at it for four hours straight, swinging my hammer just as Thor did in his memories.
And I have to say, it's all coming very naturally to me. From every swing to the shift in balance, I was getting better—I could visibly see the difference before my eyes.
I started with some standard training—running, push-ups, and sit-ups. This alone was eye-catching for others; people here don't train like that. Then, I switched to swinging my hammer and refining the movements until I got used to them.
That last part was pretty normal—if not for the fact that I was swinging a completely unconventional and impractical hammer due to its size and mass. If that wasn't enough, I was swinging that exceptionally well-made yet horrid weapon for four hours straight. Of course, people were going to talk.
"Huff... Huff... Huff... again... once again," I muttered to myself, letting the cold northern breeze cool me down while I caught my breath.
Clap Clap Clap Clap...
"Fabulous. Never saw someone swinging a club with such enthusiasm. Do men often train like this on the Wall?"
I looked up to see a golden-haired boy—smugly watching me. Behind him stood a man clad entirely in black armour, his helmet shaped like a dog's head.
"Prince Joffrey." I had been trying to avoid the Lannisters, but it seemed that was a fool's errand while living in Winterfell alongside them. So, maybe I have to give them a reason to void me.
"I'm not from the wall." I replied offhandedly, not giving him much attention, the joker will demand more of it if I give even a grain worth of it.
"Not from the Wall? Interesting. So, where are you from?"
"Certainly not from the wall."
"Huh... Tell me, do people often use this kind of toy to play around in from where you're from, calling themselves warriors?" Joffrey asked with a gleam in his eyes. I could see from miles away that he was looking for trouble.
Sigh...
"No... none except me."
"Aye... Its shows." Joffrey laugh while looking at me, I have seen this, character often try to do this in Game of Thrones, it's like they are born with a prick in their ass.
"None except, because there is no one like me," I replied, now getting a little serious as I got closer to him and easily flip my hammer in the air, something very hard with an object with its weight and yet I did it effortlessly, making both Clegane and Joffrey shocked, especially Joffrey who was so close to me now.
"I got the hammer when I was a child, it was indeed a toy to me, until I learned that if I swing it hard enough, it's a toy no more." I slowly got closer to him and glared at him, being significantly taller and more muscular than him definitely helped me what I was going for here.
The bastard slowly stepped back, losing that smirk on his face. But I wasn't done. I slowly lower my head to his level.
"Many tied to lift the hammer, very few could, and none live to tell the tale. Do you know why." I said with a heavy voice, not even Clegane on the side getting anxious seeing how his hands were almost on his sword.
"Wh...Why."
"haha...Becuase none were worthy." I slowly slip the words into his ears and turn around. I don't like bullying but that was damn satisfying. Me turning back also seemed to relax Clegane who was clenching on his sword handle.
However, just as I was going back in to fill this raging fire my belly, I heard someone shove his own foot on on top of the hammer.
"I'll do it."
"Huh ?"
"The Hammer, I'll lift it. You think that damn piece of junk can tell whether I'm worthy. Give the hammer here." Joffrey all but Order.
"You sure royal ass... I mean highness. People are watching, you can still take back your words, but once I put the hammer down..." I trailed off.
Joffrey glared at me, though looking uncertain he opened his mouth finally.
"I'll lift that hammer, if I lift it, then it's mine and you would be punished for spreading falsehood in this kingdom and for lying and deceiving." Joffrey shot back, maybe thinking I would be afraid.
Unfortunately for him, he wasn't the first person who tried to lift the hammer, entirely of Castle Black had failed before I came here. None were able to and none shall. If this was some other fantasy like Tolkien then maybe but finding a worthy one in G.R.R. Martins's work, I have better chances of finding peace here than that.
"Haha... Excellent suggestion. Very Well Then... agree but what do I get in return If you can't lift the hammer. Certainly, a prince of your calibre and honour with amass reputation would put something equal to this wager." Now I was grinning, I wasn't looking to scam people but if they themselves wants to be scam then whom I'm to say no in the face of a gift horse.
"Huh... that will never happen."
"Sure sure... but just in case, let's put something on the table, how about 1000 gold dragons? Surely it's nothing for the Crown Prince and the next King of the Seven Kingdoms...or it's too much, should I lower the amount ?"
Clegane on the side looked at me with narrowed eyes, he wasn't getting what was going on, yes the hammer should be heavy by the look of it but not so much that the prince can't lift it, and a 1000 gold dragon.
"Fine, just toss the damn hammer already." Joffrey was getting annoyed now, seeing I wasn't playing his game he now was just looking a way to punish me.
"Faire enough." I shrugged and Tossed the hammer at the ground, had two thoughts of directly tossing it at him though.
What followed was a show of a whiny child making a fuss. Joffrey bend down and tug the hammer only for drag himself immediately down at the sudden jerk. He fell down to the ground while I kept on looking at Clegane.
Joffrey then went to use two hands and with all his power he attempted to lift the hammer only for the Hammer to not budge an inch.
"This... why it won't move ?" Joffrey shouted, not finally fussing about the situation.
"Don't worry, You're not the first one who has tried to move it, and certainly you're not the last one who will fail..." I shrugged and bent down just to easily pick up the hammer in font of him, making him confuse and looking at me like I was a ghost.
"1000 Gold Dragon." I reminded him as I wave my have and was ready to take my leave. However, the horrid creature once again started making noise.
"You... what did you do. It's not possible. You cheated." Joffrey shouted. Looking around I realized that we have gathered quite a bit of audience here. Sigh.
"Cheated! how ?, I already told you that none can lift it beside me. As you see I didn't lie. So how I cheat?
"You... you did something, I there is no way I couldn't lift the..." Joffrey started to get frustrated, usual response when things are no going his way.
"And just I said you can't lift it, no one can. I didn't lie. I don't see any why I cheated. So ?" I shrugged, seeing Joffrey not having much to say I was ready to take my depart when finally he said something which stopped me.
"Stop... this ain't over yet..." He glare at me.
"Find You'll get your coin. Fight him. If you beat him then you get to take you coin." He said with irritation as he pointed at Clegane beside him.
"Hmm Another wager I see..." I looked at Clegane and pondered. Tough I don't wanna do what this spoil brat tells me but it's a chance to test out what I can do, test my current level.
"Fine, I'll fight. But the wager should be equal, I lose and you pay me nothing. But what If I win. What then... ?" I asked.
"I'll double the coin." Joffrey didn't care, he just wanted to see the man in front of him beat by now.
"Nah, 1000 will suffice, but I could use a little chat his Grace, King Robert." Grinning I put forth my condition.