The sea roared as if angry with Thor. Dark clouds rolled over the sky, the waves crashing harder against the hull of the merchant ship. Thor stood at the deck, his chest heaving from exhaustion. He had pushed himself far beyond his limit to call winds strong enough to move the slow vessel away from King's Landing.
He had no idea how to do it honestly, he just latched onto the feeling which worked for him and kept on going.
The crew whispered about him being cursed or blessed, but Thor paid them no mind. Distance from the capital was all that mattered.
For the first time since their escape, Thor sat down, resting his arms on his knees. Arya leaned against the railing, restless as always, her eyes scanning the horizon. Sansa sat close, still pale, fear and homesickness heavy on her face.
"How in the Odin's name you did that." She slowly asked, earning groan from the exhausted godly man.
She have gotten use to this way of talking even faster than him somehow.
Ignoring her, he looked towards Sansa, and said.
"We are going to Winterfell," Thor finally told them. "That is where you'll be safe. Your brothers will be waiting."
Arya frowned. "And Father? What about him?" Her voice was sharp, almost accusing.
Thor looked at her and sighed. "That lies with your brothers now, not me. Only after Winterfell will we know his fate.
Without pressuring the Lannisters, we won't get him back, the only way is to get both of you back home before the war, which is inevitable at this point, breaks out."
Arya clenched her small fists but said nothing more. Sansa lowered her gaze, her lips trembling.
"It's all because of me." Sansa muttered.
"Huh ?" Thor looked up, confused.
"It's all because I wished to marry the prince and become the queen. I told mother to led father accept king's proposal. I'm the reason he's imprisoned." She finally was letting go of her emotions.
Thor let out a sigh. "It's not like that Sansa. Your father had his own choices. What you did or ask from your parents matters little. They are your parents for a reason.
Don't put yourself at guilt. Things happens, rather than questioning why they happen, we have to find out how to solve them." Thor comforted her.
But it's hard to stop a girl from crying who had made her mind to cry. He saw Arya too was finally showing tears.
The brave little wolf in the end was still a child.
Thor let them be. They were only children, torn from their home, forced into a storm of blood and war. He could only carry them forward.
But their moment of calm was shattered when the captain shouted from the helm. "A vessel! Fast! Coming toward us!"
Thor jumped to his feet. He saw it too—cutting through the waves like a predator, a warship, much faster than their lumbering merchant boat. His heart sank. There was no outrunning that one. He knew it.
The men aboard the merchant ship scrambled, fear spreading quickly. Thor roared above the storm, "Ready yourselves! We will have to fight!"
Very soon the ship was almost near them, but the battle was nothing like he thought. The enemy ship did not come close at once. Instead, arrows rained from the distance, black streaks cutting through the stormy sky. They struck the deck, the sails, and the men. Screams followed as two sailors collapsed, arrows in their chests.
"Fucking Cowards…" Irritation rang inside him. Those bastards weren't coming at him directly but attacking from far.
"Do tell me that we have some arrows and bows tucked in somewhere," Thor asked the captain, but to his dismay he only got a shake of the captain's head.
'Shit.'
Thor grabbed Arya and Sansa, pulling them inside the cabin. "Stay behind me! Do not move unless I tell you!"
Arrows thudded into the wooden walls. Thor's jaw tightened. Even with his strength, he could not strike at enemies hiding behind the distance of the sea. This was not a fight of fists or hammers. This was a fight of ships and storms.
His only weapon left was the one he had not yet mastered—thunder.
He ducked behind a barrel as arrows splintered wood near his head. His hand tightened on Mjolnir's handle, his heart pounding. "Come now… answer me," he muttered. He had tried before, many times, only to summon sparks that flickered and died. But this time, there was no choice.
Closing his eyes, he focused, calling the storm to him, calling the power that lay beyond the clouds.
Fortunately for him, the storm was already brewing on top of their head, he didnt had to generate thunder by himself, just channel the lightning.
But even doing that was ridiculously hard for him.
The storm roared louder than ever, the sky alive with dark clouds twisting and rolling. Thor's grip on Mjolnir was tight, his breath heavy. His body was fine, it was his mind which was fatigued.
Channelling lightning takes a huge amount of mental fortitude. Even when he didn't do it, and only try to change the climate, it tied him out.
That and then the entire night of hard work.
He called again, though, pushing every ounce of will into the heavens above.
And then it happened.
From the black sky, a streak of blinding white light split the clouds. Thunder followed, so loud it shook the sea itself. The lightning came crashing down, not into the waves, but straight into Mjolnir.
Even Thor was taken at the velocity and ferocity the lightning struck the hammer, almost jolting him back.
Light covered the surroundings. The contracts between the dark sky and the thunder illuminating the sea was like a dream.
The hammer glowed, alive with raw power. Sparks danced along Thor's arms and shoulders, but he stood firm. For a second, to even his own embarrassment, he thought he would be electrocuted, but nothing happened. Obviously.
Everyone froze.
Arya's mouth fell open, her eyes wide with amazement. Sansa gasped, clutching her sister's arm as if afraid the sight would swallow her whole. The sailors around them were on their knees, staring at Thor like he was no man at all but a god.
"Seven bloody hell."
"By the Storm Gods..."
"By the Old Gods."
Under those few seconds, those who witnessed this recalled all their gods in their mind. A man calling forth the lightning itself, the image got burned into their mind.
Even the enemy stopped. The rain of arrows ceased. The men on the warship stood rooted, weapons slack in their hands, faces pale. None had ever seen such power. It was as if the sky itself obeyed him.
A deep dread spread across both ships.
But the battle was not over. Thor raised Mjolnir high, the hammer glowing bright, lightning snapping around it like chains of fire. He tried to focus, tried to aim the power, to send it forth like a beam against the enemy vessel.
Like he saw Thor doing in movies, like he recalled from his memories.
But no matter how he tried, the lightning only swirled and raged inside the hammer. It would not bend to his will.
The enemy stirred, shouts rising as archers lifted bows again.
"FIRE." Shouted one of them.
"Shoot him down. Hurry."
"Fire, Fire...Fire you, bloody cunts. FIRE!!!"
The spell of awe broke, and the first arrows began to fly once more.
Arrows were once again few, and this time around, he was directly at the line of fire. Most arrows didn't hit him, but one arrow passed him, leaving a stinging mark behind his side.
Thor's patience snapped.
"Enough!" he bellowed, his voice like thunder itself.
Instead of struggling to control the storm, he gave in to his fury. With a roar, he hurled Mjolnir, lightning-charged, across the raging sea. The hammer flew like a comet, trailing fire and stormlight, before striking the enemy ship dead center.
The result was destruction beyond imagining.
The explosion of thunder and flame tore the vessel apart. Wood splintered into the air, fire burst across the deck, and screams were drowned by the roar of the sea. In an instant, the mighty warship split in two, sinking fast beneath the waves. Men were thrown into the black water, their cries lost in the chaos.
Silence followed, broken only by the storm.
Thor stood on the deck of his ship, chest rising and falling, his hand outstretched. The hammer was gone from sight...
"No wait, my hammer !"
xxx
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