The cold wind of the North carried the scent of home as the small company rode through the muddy pass of Moat Cailin. Beyond the broken towers and damp swamps, the northern banners fluttered once more.
Tears seemed to roll down both Arya's and Sansa's cheeks as they felt the same cold, chilly winds of the harsh North—the earthy scent of the open lands. Something they had grown up with. Never would they have thought that they would be this desperate to feel it again—that they would be so happy to see snow once more and those familiar banners flying.
And standing there, wrapped in thick furs, was Lady Catelyn Stark. She was unbending when it came to coming here with Ser Rodrik Cassel to meet her daughters. No matter how dangerous it was, or how long she had to travel, or that it was wartime—she would have given anything to come here and meet her daughters.
Her hands trembled as she saw them approach—two figures she thought she might never see again. Arya rode ahead, her face older than her years, dirt and scratches marking her journey. Beside her sat Sansa, her eyes still holding the shadow of fear and grief.
And the one guiding the horse behind both of them—Thor rode his steed in silence, the weight of many battles still upon him.
"MOTHER!" Both girls, upon seeing their mother standing there, called out—excited and overwhelmed with emotion.
When the girls dismounted, Catelyn ran to them. She didn't care for the mud or the men watching. She took both her daughters into her arms, holding them so tightly they could hardly breathe. Tears streamed down her face, and for a moment, all the pain, all the worry, and all the fear she had carried melted away.
"My girls," she whispered, her voice breaking. "My sweet girls… you're safe… you're home. Seven above."
Sansa buried her face into her mother's shoulder, sobbing quietly. Arya tried to hold back her tears, but when Catelyn's hands brushed her cheek, she broke down too. Rodrik Cassel stood nearby, his eyes glistening, while the few Stark men bowed their heads respectfully.
Thor stayed back, his blue eyes watching the reunion from a short distance. He wondered—if he were to go back to Asgard somehow in the future, would his mother also hug him like this?
The thought was annoyingly intrusive, but he let it be. His conflict within himself—between his previous life and current identity—was not something he was willing to face right now. For all he cared, now he was indeed Thor.
The wind tugged at his cloak, his hair glinting faintly under the pale light. For the first time in many weeks, he allowed himself a quiet breath of relief. The girls were safe.
'Time to get out of here,' he smiled to himself. While happy about their reunion, he didn't plan to linger around. He had long wished to travel this strange new world and enjoy himself, but life kept putting one obstacle in his path after another.
However, now that the girls were safe, he would have no lingering regrets if he were to leave. The realm would soon fall into chaos—war would eat the land away.
Battle-crazy as he was, he didn't wish to fight for any side. If he were to fight, it would be on his own terms—not like this. And thus, he planned to leave.
When at last the tears of the mother and daughters had slowed and the mother's heart had steadied, Catelyn turned to Thor. Her gaze softened, but there was still a storm of questions in her eyes. She stepped forward and bowed her head slightly.
"Ser Thor," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "You have done what I could never repay. You brought my daughters back to me. For that, you will always have the gratitude of House Stark."
Surely she had heard of Thor's knighthood. Many would call him "lord" based on his appearance alone; however, he held no land here, nor was he from any highborn or ancient house.
Calling him "Ser" was apparently more appropriate than calling him "lord." Most lowborn would mistake this, but Catelyn Stark was a highborn woman through and through.
Thor inclined his head slightly, his voice calm and low. "You honor me, Lady Stark. It was their courage that brought them here, my lady. I merely guided them."
Of course, Thor was being polite—Catelyn knew that. In any other situation, she would have pressed further on his achievement and valor; however, there were more important things to ask than to waste time on sweet words.
"And… their father?" she asked hesitantly. "What of Lord Eddard? Why is he not with you?"
It was pointless for her to ask—she had already learned from her brother everything Thor had told Edmure Tully.
Thor's eyes darkened for a second, irritation flashing through them at that honorable fool's choice and the mess he had to go through to save the girls. He took a moment before answering. The girls, standing behind their mother, grew quiet again.
"Lord Stark chose to do what he believed was right," Thor said at last. "He uncovered the truth—the queen's children were not the trueborn heirs of Robert Baratheon. They were the offspring of her brother, Jaime Lannister."
Catelyn's breath caught, her hand covering her mouth. Of course, she knew this as well; however, hearing it from the man himself solidified it.
"When he spoke of revealing it," Thor continued, his tone heavy with regret, "I warned him. I told him to flee with me and his daughters while there was still time. But his honor would not let him. He said the realm deserved the truth. The queen acted first. Her men seized him before I could reach him."
Catelyn's knees nearly gave way, and Rodrik caught her arm.
"I tried," Thor said quietly. "But when the city turned to chaos, I had to make a choice. I could not save them all. I chose the girls. In fact, Ned Stark himself asked me to do so. I took them from King's Landing before the queen could use them as hostages."
"As for what happened with Ned Stark after that, I do not know. However, if that new boy king and the queen have any hint of mind left in them, they wouldn't touch him. Mind my words, but in this position, Ned Stark is more useful to them alive than dead. So, if I were you, my lady, I would not lose hope just yet," Thor added lastly, hopefully he was right.
The only sound that followed was the wind, whispering through the reeds and broken stones.
Catelyn just stood there strong, though she herself realized that what Thor said was true—but still, her heart worried much.
For a long time, no one spoke. The North was quiet, the sky grey and endless above them.
At last, Catelyn lifted her head and met Thor's gaze. "Then you have my thanks, and my respect," she said firmly, though her voice trembled. "Please, come. You're a guest of House Stark. Let us have the chance to show our gratitude."
Thor bowed his head once more. "Again, you honor me, my lady. However, I'm afraid this is as far as I go," he said, making it clear that he wasn't planning on going back to Winterfell with them.
He had first intended to—protecting the girls and all—but since reliable people who he knew wouldn't harm them were here to take them, and since they were already in the North, he changed his mind.
He could let their mother take them from here on.
His response was a bit unexpected—not many would deny the hospitality of a great house like the Starks.
"Ser Thor, have we somehow offended you? If so, then I assure you…" this time, it was Ser Rodrik who spoke, trying to figure out why the refusal came.
"Think none of it, Ser Rodrik. By no means has House Stark offended me. I just wish to go back to my own journey now. I intended to do so even back in King's Landing, but my affection for your girls made me bring them all the way here. However, now that I know they are safe and among their people, it's time for me to take my leave."
...
A/N : This is the last part of Westeros before Story get us across the Narrow Sea
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