Chapter 7 : Winterfell

"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 inflammation, 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?"