Chapter 17: The Thunder Breaks
Ned Stark watched, a knot of dread and reluctant admiration tightening in his chest, as Thor strode towards the barricaded doors. He was a force of nature unleashed, a being of myth stepping back into a world that had forgotten the old stories. The axe, Stormbreaker, hummed with a barely contained energy, a promise of power that made the very air crackle.
"Thor, wait!" Ned called out, a last desperate attempt to cling to reason. "What is your plan? You cannot simply… walk into a city full of enemies!"
Thor paused, his hand resting on the rough-hewn timbers of the barricade. He turned his head, his blue eyes burning with an intensity that made Ned's heart pound. "I am not walking into the city, Lord Stark. I am making an entrance. A statement. A… sermon, as you mortals call it. I will show them what it means to fear a god. And then, perhaps, they will learn to listen to reason."
With a strength that seemed effortless, he ripped the barricade aside, the heavy timbers splintering like twigs. The sunlight streamed into the tower, illuminating Thor in a halo of golden light. He was a figure of terrible beauty, a storm made flesh. And then, he stepped out into the storm.
The first to see him were the guards at the tower gate. They were hardened men, veterans of countless battles, but they recoiled in terror at the sight of him. The stories, the whispers, the fear… it was all real. It was walking towards them, axe in hand. They scattered like leaves before a hurricane.
Thor did not pursue them. He walked slowly, deliberately, towards the plaza before the Sept of Baelor. The crowd, whipped into a frenzy by the High Septon's sermon, was a sea of angry faces. They had come to condemn a monster. They were about to meet one.
The High Septon, still ranting about blasphemy and heresy, was the first to see him. He faltered, his voice cracking, his eyes widening in disbelief. The crowd turned, and the murmur of anger died in their throats.
Thor stopped at the edge of the plaza. He raised Stormbreaker high above his head, the axe catching the sunlight and throwing it back in a dazzling display of power. He did not shout. He did not threaten. He simply stood there, a silent, implacable figure of divine wrath.
And then, he spoke. His voice was not a shout, but a low, resonant rumble that seemed to vibrate in the very bones of those who heard it. It was a voice that had commanded armies, that had shaken mountains, that had spoken to the stars.
"You call me a monster," he said, his voice echoing across the silent plaza. "You call me a demon. You say I am a blasphemy against your gods. You cower in your homes, whispering my name in fear. You are right to fear. Because I am here to judge you."
He lowered the axe, the movement slow and deliberate. "You have forgotten what it means to be protected. You have forgotten what it means to live in peace. You have turned your hearts to hatred and your hands to violence. You have betrayed your king, you have murdered the innocent, and you have sought to destroy the very man who offered you his protection."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle on the crowd. "I am not a god to be worshipped. I am a force to be reckoned with. I am the storm that breaks against injustice. I am the shield that defends the innocent. And I will not stand by and watch you tear yourselves apart."
He raised Stormbreaker again, the axe glowing with an inner light. "I offer you a choice. You can continue down this path of hatred and destruction. You can continue to cower in fear and listen to the lies of those who would use you as weapons. Or you can choose a different path. A path of peace. A path of justice. A path of… honor."
He looked at the High Septon, his eyes filled with a terrible sadness. "Your gods demand sacrifice. They demand obedience. I demand only that you look into your own hearts and find the courage to be better than you are. To be worthy of the protection you have been given."
He lowered the axe, the light fading from it. He turned and walked away, leaving the crowd in stunned silence. He did not look back. He did not need to. He had planted a seed. Whether it would grow into peace or into further violence was up to them.
In the Red Keep, Cersei watched the scene unfold with a mixture of fury and disbelief. Her carefully constructed narrative of fear and hatred had been shattered by a single act of defiance. The monster had not roared. It had preached. And its sermon had been more powerful than any army.
"He… he reasoned with them?" she sputtered, her voice incredulous. "He tried to… to inspire them? This is madness!"
Tyrion, however, was watching with a look of profound fascination. He took a long sip of his wine, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Magnificent," he breathed. "Absolutely magnificent. He has turned their own weapon against them. He has taken their fear and twisted it into… awe. He has shown them not a monster, but a god. And a god who speaks of peace… that is a dangerous thing indeed."
"Dangerous?" Cersei snapped. "He has defied us! He has undermined everything we have worked for! We must attack him! We must crush him before he gains any more influence!"
"And how do you propose we do that, sister?" Tyrion asked, his voice soft. "Send your gold cloaks against him? They will run screaming. Send your knights? Jaime himself said they would be slaughtered. No, my dear sister. We have just witnessed a power that cannot be defeated by swords or armies. We have witnessed… faith. And faith, as you yourself have so eloquently demonstrated, is a weapon more powerful than any axe."
He turned away from the window, leaving Cersei to rage in impotent fury. He had seen something in Thor's sermon, something that went far beyond mere power. He had seen a potential for change, a force that could reshape the very fabric of this broken, cynical world. And he was, as always, intensely curious to see what would happen next.
Ned Stark had watched Thor's sermon from the tower window, his heart filled with a mixture of terror and awe. He had expected violence. He had expected a massacre. He had expected the end. But he had witnessed something else entirely. He had witnessed a god… trying to be a man. Trying to reason with a world that had forgotten how to listen.
He knew that Thor's actions had changed everything. The siege was no longer a simple matter of force. It was a battle for the hearts and minds of the city. And he knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that the fate of the realm now rested on the shoulders of the man… the god… who had just walked into the heart of the storm.