"A man owed the Champion of the Storm God a life." A sudden voice jerked me up.
These Faceless utterly lack manners, often visiting when I'm just about to get some shut-eye. Complete jerks.
"Well, I believe you're the one I was asked to save from the dungeons."
"Indeed, Jaqen H'ghar at your service."
"Cool. I wasn't expecting Varys to act so fast. Did he come to free you himself?"
"Nah, forget it, it doesn't matter. Why are you here again? Aren't you free? That's what you wished for, right?"
"A man owed a life to the Champion of the Storm God."
Gotta say, the misunderstanding was getting ridiculous, but what's it got to do with me?
"A life, you say? Didn't your friend pay for that? Yes, he didn't kill, but he gave me the name I asked him for."
"The Many-Faced God holds his words true. A life can only be paid with a life," said the Faceless Man, making me sigh. I had a feeling that if I didn't give him a name, he would just keep following me.
There are so many names though. Arya really wasted good opportunities when she could have asked to kill anyone.
I, for some reason, feel a little disdain giving away someone's name like that. Perhaps it was Thor's side that didn't wish to have someone else take the life of people he wanted dead. Warrior's pride? It certainly could be.
But again, I'm not exactly Thor, and maybe the real deal would be unhappy, but what's that got to do with me? I certainly wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth.
Whose name should I give, though? There are many. Cersei, Joffrey, Tywin Lannister—and honestly, the list might just go on until half the main cast is eradicated.
Hmm.
"I have a name for you. However, I wish for you to only deliver the blessing of the Many-Faced God on this person in case he betrays me in any way. Is that possible?" I asked, and the Faceless Man looked contemplative.
However, after a little while, he nodded.
That happened a few days ago, actually. I wonder whether he got Varys for tricking me. Perhaps that's why I couldn't find him in the city or his quarters.
I wished to kill the Spider with my own hands, but that's not possible. Thus, leaving that sly eunuch to the Faceless Man was the last option I had.
Sighing, I just shook my head and kept up with my current party. Two girls and one brooding man staring daggers at me. If I didn't know better, I might even consider Ned Stark was trying to show gratitude for me saving his cold, northern, windy ass and wanted to offer his daughters to me.
Of course, I knew better than to ask him that. However, those eyes glaring at me were getting annoying.
"How long must we go on? I know it's just my poor arse protesting, but it seems the journey to Winterfell gets more stretched the further we go," I said with a slightly annoyed tone.
Though this time, the pain and stiffness were much more bearable since I updated Thor's body to Level 2. Still, horse rides don't suit me well.
Arya on the side just snickers at my grumbling. How she was riding the horse like that was beyond me. Sansa and Ned Stark were in the cart. Actually, Ned was fine now, at least good enough to ride the horse—it's just Arya who wouldn't sit still in the cart.
"Oh, you feel pain? Though pain felt you back in the capital," Ned Stark all but murmured those words, but I still heard him. Asgardian sense to the rescue.
The man had been like this since he woke up. Angry? Skeptical? Suspicious? Odin knows what he was feeling. Maybe he was just grumpy about me punching him.
"By the rate we are going, we should enter the Riverlands in two days." Finally, Ned opened his mouth. It took me a few seconds to realize why he was even talking about any place that wasn't the North until I remembered his good-for-nothing wife was a Tully.
"You believe Lord Tully?" I didn't want to sound like that one guy who is suspicious of everything, but this was Westeros, for Odin's sake.
"Lord Tully is an honourable man and an ally to House Stark. There is no place safer for us than the Riverlands besides the North itself."
I just nodded. Not gonna argue about something I don't know. However, if it were up to me, I wouldn't stop anywhere else besides Winterfell. I know that isn't possible—we're quickly running out of rations, and the journey to Winterfell could take almost half a moon's time even at our best speed.
"However, before that, we must stop somewhere soon. We might be fine, but the girls need rest." Ned Stark looked at Sansa, who gave a weary smile to her father, while Arya was looking like a hooligan with her hair all dirty and mud everywhere.
Not her fault, though. I too feel dirty, even though I don't see a hint of dust on me. That was another bizarre thing I noticed. Maybe the armor I was wearing was enchanted to not get dirty or something, but I looked exactly the same as I did back in King's Landing—even after not bathing and traveling here on this muddy road for days. Though I still feel dirty. Strange how things work sometimes with these powers of mine.
I even got envious looks from Sansa sometimes. The poor lass might have been wondering what sorcery was keeping my hair silky smooth and teeth pristine white.
"Fair enough. Though we shouldn't loiter more than necessary. I assure you, we might not see any men from King's Landing, but the Queen wouldn't be the only one who would want to get her grubby paws on us."
I could tell just by imagining what Tywin Lannister would do after learning his daughter let Ned Stark and his daughters go—especially when war is brewing. By now, both Stannis and Renly should be acting up.
Or did I change something so the War of the Five Kings won't even take place? Sigh... seriously, knowing the plot is a double-edged sword sometimes.
"Why wouldn't the Queen send men after us?" Sansa suddenly asked, looking at her father with a curious face, making both of us stumble for a response.
It was clear that Ned Stark didn't wish to bring up what happened in King's Landing in front of his kids, and I wanted to keep those tales buried too, if possible.
"Because... she can't." Surprisingly, Arya spoke up before either of us could.
"And how do you know that?" Sansa gave a side-eye glance at her annoying little sister, clearly not believing her.
"Because Thor was there. He would have beaten everyone before rescuing Father. Only a madman would go after him after knowing his reputation."
"Child, I understand your trust in me, but those words convey another meaning. I don't know much about my reputation, but if you go around talking like that, I certainly won't have a good one." I gave a mild stare at Arya, which she shrugged off quicker than the dresses her mother sent with her.
"I for one wouldn't doubt that. With what happened back then, I believe you'll soon have a hard-to-handle reputation on your hands, Ser Thor." Ned Stark said, looking at me. That last word, when he said my name, made it clear he was up to something.
Those words now—he wasn't saying them to just anyone. But to someone different.
"What happened?" Arya picked up quickly, as usual, and asked.
"It's good then that I don't intend to handle anything." I shrugged.
"So what do you intend to do, exactly?" he asked. He certainly wasn't just asking about what happened in King's Landing.
"I intend to never return to that wretched kingdom again. Out of sight, out of mind."
"Hmm, on that we can agree," he grumbled.
xxx
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