[Winterfell]
Catelyn Stark sat on the cold stone bench inside the small sept of Winterfell, made especially for her after she got married up in the south to the lord paramount of the North. Being from the Riverlands, she had grown up praying with the religion of the Seven and even after marriage, she didn't turn her worship to the Old Gods.
She was lucky in this regard, she married a lord who didn't have her convert her religion. So every time she prayed here she found herself blessed to have the only sept in the entire North, all for herself.
However, today was different, she sat with her hands clasped tight in prayer. The soft light of the candles flickered against the walls, casting long shadows around her. She had been there for hours now, whispering to the Seven, begging them to watch over her son.
Ever since Robb's letter arrived, she had known no peace. Bran—her sweet, brave boy—had been found at Castle Black, but then he vanished again. Gone without a trace, and not alone. Robb had written that the Hound had disappeared at the same time. There was no doubt who did it.
Catelyn's heart ached with worry while a mother's fury was boiling inside her, it was times like this when she wished to be born as a man, at least she could go after her child and find him.
She asked the Seven to protect her son, to guide him back to her. She promised them offerings, prayers, and devotion—anything if only they would return Bran safe.
It was on one of these sorrowful days, when Catelyn was once again kneeling before the altar, that a servant came rushing into the sept. The young man looked pale, his hands shaking slightly as he held out a folded piece of parchment.
"My lady," he said, bowing low. "A Raven. The message is unknown but for your eyes only."
Catelyn rose quickly, snatching the letter from his hand, not sure who sent it or why, but to a grieving mother, anything which mildly looked like a hope to find her son was a treasure. Fear gripped her heart before she even broke the seal though. The message could bring hope as at the same time it could bring the same amount of desperation and fear at times. She didn't recognize the wax—no sigil, plain and simple, meant to not draw attention.
Her fingers trembled as she opened it. Her eyes raced over the words. And then, she froze.
Ned. Captured.
She read the words again, hardly believing them. Her husband—her strong, loyal Ned—was declared as a traitor by those Lannisters. Betrayed and thrown into chains.
There was nothing more in the letter, it was so plain even believing the words written in it was questionable.
Catelyn sat back heavily on the bench, the letter falling from her hand. First Bran, and now Ned. Her family was being torn apart piece by piece, and she was powerless to stop it.
She didn't wish to believe it, however, when the mind only sees dark, it gets blind to the light existing in the world.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she bit them back.
"Ser Rodrik, he must know something," she muttered to herself and got up. Being a woman, she had no hand in politics, but to a battle-hardened man like Ser Rodrik who is the master at arms at Winterfell for years, he must know something. He might be able to prove the message's validity.
---
[King's Landing]
The city of King's Landing was in chaos after Thor left.
The streets were filled with shouting and fear. Word of what happened spread faster than a new sexual disease does from the whorehouse. Everyone spoke of the man with golden hair who summoned lightning from the sky and crushed the entire King's Landing guards like they were nothing. Many no longer thought of him as a man at all. Some whispered that he was a god. Others said he was a demon sent to destroy them all.
The Sept of the Seven were the most vocal about it, they moved quickly. The High Septon and his priests, who hated anything to do with magic or strange powers, declared Thor a heretic and a spawn of a demon almost immediately. From the steps of the Great Sept, they preached to the common folk, telling them Thor was a threat to all good and faithful men. They promised that the gods would strike him down if the crown did not.
Same old tactics used from generation to generation to control the masses.
Inside the Red Keep, the mood was even darker.
Cersei and Joffrey had been taken back to the castle by what few guards remained loyal. Cersei sat alone in her chambers, her face pale, her hands trembling though she tried to hide it. Her mind would not stop playing the memories over and over. The flash of blinding light. The hammer flying through the air. The thunder that cracked the sky itself.
She never was a woman particularly afraid of anything, but all that changed when her firstborn died.
She shuddered, remembering the death of her firstborn son. The boy had died on a stormy night, lightning striking her boy and the Seven took his life. That was when she realized what fear really is, she wouldn't say this to anyone, not even her brother, that she had ever since then been afraid of the thunder and the omen it brings, that it reminded her of that dreadful night.
Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to cry. Instead, her mind turned back to the old prophecy she had heard as a child. The witch's voice echoed in her ears, warning of her children's deaths and her own fall.
A knock came at her door. Without waiting for an answer, Varys entered, his robes whispering over the floor. The Spider had been missing during the whole ordeal, nowhere to be found when Thor attacked. He was too busy looking out for the whereabouts of Stark's daughters, which he couldn't find either.
Good otherwise he might have not survived, though maybe he would have since Thor had to open his mouth and give his word about not harming anyone there.
"My queen," Varys said, bowing low. "I have heard the reports. I fear this Thor is a danger we cannot ignore."
Cersei said nothing, staring out the window toward the sky. She wasn't even paying attention to the man.
"I might have a way to find him," Varys seeing no reaction continued carefully. "The city's defenses are weak, and my little birds heard about songs of rebellions coming from Stormland, Highgarden, and even the Vale.
That man was loyal to Eddard Stark and once Lord Stark reaches the North, he shall too will call for his banners..." Varys said and again no reaction from the queen, this was getting on his nerves.
"If this were to happen, then that means that that man too will be an enemy of the crown. With the backing of an entire army." Varys put more heat, trying to rile the wounded lioness up.
At that, Cersei finally turned her head. Her eyes were cold and empty. "Leave," she said.
Varys blinked, thrown off by her flat voice. "But, my queen—"
"Get out," she shouted, rising from her chair with sudden rage.
Varys pursed his lips but bowed again, deeper this time, and backed out of the room without another word.
Cersei didn't wish to listen about Thor or anything now. She was too shaken to enter into a political game now. A very rare time in her life when she found herself this weak emotionally. And even Jaime wasn't here with her.
As Varys walked back through the stone halls of the Red Keep toward his own chambers, his mind boiled with frustration. He had planned Thor's death carefully. Using the secret tunnels under the city, he had set traps. Everything had been perfectly arranged.
And yet that man had survived. More than survived—he had burst forth stronger than ever, bringing down the fury of the heavens themselves.
Varys hated magic. It reminded him too much of his own painful past, the cruel wizard who had cut him and left him broken. And now Thor, a man wielding magic far greater than anything he had seen, was free and walking in Westeros.
As Varys reached his chambers, he made a silent vow. He would find a way to kill Thor, no matter how long it took. Men who could call down the storm had no place in the world he wished to build.
However, just as he was about to open the door, he heard someone say the words he was very familiar with as someone from Essos.
"Valar Morghulis."
And a shiver went down his spine when he heard these words.
xxx
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