Welcome to this Elder Scrolls/Game of Thrones crossover, hope you enjoy it.
This is set a few years after the events of Skyrim so the Civil War is over and the Second Great War has already been fought.
This fic will include several OCs as the various Champions of the Daedric Princes involved and the Dragonborn will show up at some point but to begin with it's focused on one particular OC.

(spelling errors I saw fixed and cleaned up some bits regarding Mephala)

Morndas 6th Last Seed, 207 Fourth Era.
Sanguine's Plane of Oblvivion

Sanguine paced around the meeting room of his brothers and sisters. It had long ago been decided that the Prince of Pleasure and Debauchery would host any family wide meetings the different Daedric Princes would ever have, mainly because he had no actual ambition outside of having a good time. He glanced over at the only other Prince to have arrived yet, Hircine. "Is Bal still in that alter of his?"

"That's what Boethiah last told me." The deer headed Prince of the Hunt shrugged.

Sanguine sighed in relief. "Good, he always ruins the fun wherever he goes." He sat in his seat at the table, by far the most extravagant one. Hircine was sitting in his delicately carved wooden chair next to him. "You remember when he tried to rope us into his scheme to invade Tamriel?"

Hircine sighed and nodded. "Probably gave Dagon the idea in the first place, probably had plans to do something to Dagon if he succeeded."

"With luck he'll stay in that alter Boethiah stuck him in." Sanguine's statement brought a nod of agreement from Hircine. Both looked up as the outrageously decorated doors of the room opened and Meridia and Azura entered, they were idly chatting about recent events in Skyrim. Sanguine grinned and stood. "Ah sweet sisters, glad you could make it."

Meridia and Azura stopped their conversation and looked at their two brothers. "Of course I could make it." Meridia snapped. "I thought up the idea of these meetings." Sanguine chuckled and sat down again as Meridia sat down in her white stone throne and Azura in her grey stone throne, they nearly completed the set. "Still waiting for most of our siblings I see."

"Sheogorath can't make it, still on his holiday." Hircine spoke up. "And Jyggalag won't be coming, having some fun in Bal's plane while he's stuck in that alter."

Sanguine chuckled at the news. "Yes our dear nephew does love his holidays."

"Surprised you haven't visited him there yet, Sanguine." Azura stated lazily as she looked around the chamber.

Sanguine waved his hand dismissively. "His parties aren't to my tastes, too much talk, not enough wine."

The door opened again drawing the attention of the four already present. A faint blue mist covered the floor and Nocturnal glided in, her face passive. "Brothers, sisters." She nodded to the four before getting to her own black stone throne next to Azura, the Princes of day, dawn and night were together as usual. "I bring news from Peryite, he's gotten roped into Jyggalag's scheme for Bal's plane." The rest of the room nodded, this was expected given their similar interests.

Before the door closed Mephala quickly jogged in, currently in her more human form. "Ah good. I'm not late." She trotted over to her Akiviri style chair. "Vile's still stuck in his shrine, apparently his dog has gone missing." Sanguine again chuckled, joined by Hircine.

The door again opened and Mora's hideous form lingered in the opening. "I apologise dear siblings. But I have something to research. I trust you can cope without me?"

Sanguine sighed slightly and used his command over his realm to prop the door open, no sense in it constantly closing. "We'll manage dear brother."

Mora's eye nodded slightly and he turned, getting a few metres before seemingly remembering something. "Oh, our sweet sister Namira is still occupied in the Reach of Skyrim. She has no interest in the purpose of this meeting." His eye nodded again and his form floated off.

"So many of our siblings are occupied." Azura noted. "Dagon really ruined any semblance of family didn't he?"

Hircine nodded slightly. "That's why he wasn't invited, sister of dawn and dusk. I doubt Vaermina will come either, not after the loss of her temple."

"That just leaves Boethiah." No sooner had Nocturnal said the words than Boethiah entered through the now open doors. "And here's our sweet sister."

The Daedric Prince of sedition and treachery smirked. "So I'm the last to arrive, fitting." She made her way to her chair decorated with a vague squid pattern. "I'm sure most of you have been made aware already but my acolytes have managed to trap Molag Bal in his shrine in Skyrim, though my acolyte has recently gone missing."

Sanguine sighed in relief again and glanced around the nearly half empty table, so few had come. Standing he cleared his throat. "Brothers and Sisters." The Daedric Princes all looked at him, as he was their host. "Ever since our idiot brother tried to break into the realm of Tamriel we have been locked off from it and our powers have, for the most part, diminished." There were murmurs of agreement from around the table. "Now our dear sister Meridia has found the perfect place for us to regain our strength and use our influence." He sat back down in his chair to give the room to Meridia.

Meridia stood. "That's the other reason Dagon was not invited here. I doubt we want him screwing up over there as well after we've waited two centuries to do anything again." A round of nods from the princes gathered. "So, here is what I propose." She looked at Sanguine who snapped his fingers, summoning a map of Tamriel. "We all know this is Tamriel, and I'm sure some of you know of Westeros and Essos all the way over here." Again Sanguine snapped his fingers and the map changed to a view of the twin continents. "I know we've never made our influence known over there but Dagon didn't get us banned from there either. So I propose we each send a champion there to spread our influence."

Azura laced her fingers. "Ah, excellent. I already have a champion I'd like to send. Are we to make our own arrangements?"

"That is the plan, our champions will likely be competing at times." Meridia explained. "The mortals of Tamriel have repeatedly attempted to cross the sea, and only a few have ever returned."

Mephala leaned forward. "So it's by Sea our Champions will arrive? Are we forgetting some of us have the power of teleportation still in the mortal Plane?" She glanced pointedly at Sanguine. "We of course accept that the Aedra are likely to send champions of their own when we make ourselves known." She rested her chin on her hands which were laced together in front of her. "And we all know who they'll send first."

Boethiah scowled. "Yes we know they'll send the accursed Dragonborn. But..." The Prince of treachery paused slightly. "He will not be able to stop all our champions, Westeros is just as big as Tamriel and they do not know of magic."

"It is of no consequence for now. Our efforts in Skyrim have not withered from the descendant of our cousin's presence." Meridia stated firmly as she sat back down in her throne. "Choose your champions and send them over."

The rest of the Princes nodded and Hircine looked at the Prince of Decadence. "Will you be sending a Champion too brother?"

Sanguine grinned and shook his horned head. "Unlike Tamriel the whore house trade is ripe in Westeros, I have no need of Champions from Tamriel." To that Hircine could only chuckle and nod in reply.

"Then this meeting is done brothers and sisters." Meridia announced and as one the Princes all stood before trickling out of the ornate room. Soon only Sanguine and Hircine remained.

"I'm lead to believe you engaged one of my champions in one your drinking contests?" Hircine asked as he cocked his head.

Sanguine laughed. "Oh yes that reminds me, I have to meet him in the wine garden." The prince of Decadence stood. "I have to hand it to the Nords, they sure know how to hold their liquor and hunt at the same time."

Hircine chuckled. "Since you're meeting with one of the two I'm intending to send. I don't suppose you could teleport him over once you're done drinking him under the table?"

"Hmm, now there's an idea." Sanguine scratched his red chin. "It might be interesting to send him over before the others get a chance to get there. All right I'll do it, but only if you come to my next party, you've missed the last five."

Hircine sighed and chuckled in quick succession. "Deal." The Prince of the Hunt held out his hand.

Sanguine shook it and snapped his fingers, sending Hircine back to his own realm. "Now, I have a wine garden to get to." He snapped his fingers again to send him to his more peaceful area of the realm.

The North, Westeros.

A speck of ethereal light appeared on the moors outside of Winterfell. Over the course of several minutes the speck widened into a large orb of swirling purple and white big enough to admit a fully laden cart. The portal gave off a white flash and a man flew out of it with a yelp, crashing onto the cold hardened ground in front of it. As soon and the man hit the ground the portal caved in on itself and in mere seconds it vanished.

"Ugh, fuck you Sanguine." Eadric muttered as he rolled over and sat up. Looking around he saw nothing but endless expanses of grass moors and a long paved road that lead over a small hill. In the opposite direction of the hill was the beginnings of a large forest that even covered a small mountain further in it. The road however skirted around the forest and as Eadric looked closer he made out what looked like banners coming along the road.

Checking to make sure his weapons and armour had come with him through the portal just in case he had to use them he sighed with relief when he saw he still had his Chainmail on and the sword was still buckled at his side. Also checking to make sure his saex was on his belt and his axe was on his back he was surprised to find Sanguine had also teleported his Lute as well. "Got some plans for me yourself Sanguine?" He muttered to himself as the banner came closer, soon showing the people holding them though still too far away to make anything out.

As the train came closer it soon became clear it was very long and very near the front there was a carriage with Lion banners hanging off it. Leading the train were two men in intricately decorated white armour and large helmets. Ignoring the Nord as they rode past Eadric swore he saw a woman with golden hair glancing out of the small window on the carriage.

Behind the carriage came a large group of horsemen, all wearing the same red and black plate armour and carrying Lion banners of their own. Following up the rear of this group were an odd couple, a boy, no older than sixteen who radiated noble birth. He was the near complete opposite of the man escorting him, completely covered in black plate armour and wearing a fearsome helmet in the shape of a hound. Besides that the most obvious thing was his sheer size, he looked like he could match Eadric for height and Eadric was around seven feet tall, tall even for a Nord.

The Nord was still looking at the man with a hound helmet when the next group of the train passed by, again lead by two men in detailed white armour. The main difference this time however was that instead of a carriage there rode a very large man, in both height and girth who was flanked by two more men in the white armour. The fat one glanced down at Eadric and from the look in his eyes the Nord could tell he was sizing him up for a fight before he rode on.

"Don't worry, the King looks at most people like that." The voice coming from behind him caused Eadric to wheel around. In front of him on a horse sat another man in that white armour though this one didn't wear one of those helmets. His hair was golden, like the boy's who had rode past. "Jaime Lannister." He said with a nod. "You look like you know how to use that axe."

"Eadric Haraldsson." The Nord gave the standard Nordic greeting of placing his right fist over his chest. "So that was the King?"

Jaime grinned slightly and looked in the direction of the King. "Aye, that fat old man is our King." He looked back down at Eadric. "You haven't seen my brother have you? Short, blonde hair." Eadric just shook his head. "Ah well, think I know where he'll be. You heading to Winterfell as well or going South?"

"Winterfell?" Eadric looked confused for a moment, it only now hit him that Sanguine had told him next to nothing about this place and that he was supposed to do Hircine's will completely blind.

"How can you be this far North and not know about Winterfell?" Jaime asked as he crosses his arms

The Nord shrugged slightly and desperately thought up an excuse to be here. "I'm new to Westeros. Ship I was travelling on crashed off the coast and I've been wandering for days."

It didn't look as though he bought it but at the same time didn't look like he cared."Well you might as well join us on our way to Winterfell then. You're okay with walking right?" He asked with a grin before kicking his horse and speeding up to catch up with his place in the train. Sighing to himself Eadric followed, noting the laughs from the latest group of armoured riders as they rode down the road.

...

Eadric practised his axe swings in the courtyard of Winterfell, as he expected he wasn't allowed into the main hall for the feast, no one knew who he was. It didn't bother him though, he'd been to several big feasts in Whiterun after slaying a local Dragon issue and hadn't found them to his liking. Far too subdued compared to the feasts they had in Jorrvaskr and he doubted that anyone would dare start a fight with the King and the host present at the same time. Thinking of Jorrvaskr brought thoughts of Njada, his wife.

Swinging down on the straw dummy he'd been using as a target he imagined it with the face of the bastard who'd kidnapped her and held her ransom. The Skyforge Steel blade sliced the weak wooden pole holding it up and Eadric sighed. Every night he remembered cracking that Orcs skull open, every night he remembered carrying Njada back to Jorrvaskr as she tried desperately to convince him to let her walk. She was always hot-headed and stubborn, but then, then all he thought about was getting her back to Jorrvaskr safe. Now she was there while he was here, he'd be a father if he ever got back home.

"You all right?" A voice came from behind him, unmistakably a young voice, probably hadn't seen twenty winters.

Turning to look at the speaker, axe still in hand and breathing heavily, Eadric saw a young man. He had shoulder length black hair and the beginnings of a black beard. "I'm fine." Eadric was still wearing his Skyforge Chainmail, force of habit after spending so many nights out in the wilds of Skyrim where all manners of monsters and creatures could and would try to kill you in your sleep.

"I was going to use the dummy, but looks like you killed it." The boy pointed with a sword he was carrying to the decapitated training dummy.

Eadric chuckled and hefted the axe up, resting the long shaft on his shoulder. "Aye, I did. So who are you?"

The boy looked down at the ground. "Jon Snow, Ned Starks Bastard."

"So why isn't your name Jon Stark?"

Jon looked back up and him and narrowed his eyes. "You from Essos or something? You look like a Northman."

"I'm a Nord, from the North of my continent so aye, I'm a Northman." He didn't see the point in hiding it since someone was bound to figure it out at some point.

Jon slowly nodded. "Well in Westeros, bastards take a different name depending on where they were born. Since people don't know where I was born I was given the bastard name of the North, Snow."

"Where I'm from only a few clans have family names. I'm Eadric Haraldsson."

Jon held out his left hand, as his sword was in his right, and Eadric shook it. "Well since you destroyed the thing I was intending to destroy myself, fancy a spar?"

Eadric looked up at the dark night sky, thinking it over for a moment before looking back down. "All right lad, so long as you have another practise sword. Because you do not want this in your side." He shook the axe resting on his shoulder slightly.

"Should be one over here." Jon muttered as he made his way over to a rack of weapons. "Ah, here you go." He picked one out and tossed it to the Nord, who caught it. "Should warn you, I can nearly match my father now."

"I don't know your father." The Nord swung around the sword, trying to get a grasp at its weight.

Jon chuckled. "Eddard Stark, lord of this castle and the Warden of the North." He adopted what Eadric guessed was the opening stance whoever had trained told him to use.

"Remember I'm a foreigner." Eadric stated a second before charging in, bringing his immense strength to bare on the boy who instead of trying to parry the strike backed up to the side. "And being a Lord." The Nord calmly explained as he swung the sword again at Jon who tried to parry the blow and was sent reeling back by the force behind it. "Doesn't grant fighting ability."

Jon recovered quickly and went on the attack, trying to thrust at the Nord who backed up quickly to avoid the sword. "He fought in the war against the Mad King, he's killed in battle."

The two combatants circled each other, waiting for the other to go on the attack again. "I haven't fought in a war, but I've killed in battle, probably more so." After a few more seconds it became clear that Jon was on the defensive so Eadric charged back in, swinging down hard. The bastard of the North rose his sword as he moved to the side and the blades caught each other sending shockwaves down both combatants arms and the force of the collision causing a small but noticeable notch to appear in Jon's blade.

Jon reacted quickly and circled the slower but larger Nord and quickly slashed at his back, to no noticeable effect on Eadric who gave up trying to move his sword to quickly counter the attack and instead swung his arm to try knocking the boy back. He forearm connected with Jons side and sent him reeling back several metres and both quickly recovered to begin circling each other again.

Before either could go on the offensive again a rider entered the courtyard, causing both to look up at the horseman. He was clad in all black and had long black hair as well as a black beard. "Uncle Benjen!" Jon called out as he broke off the spar to greet the man.

The rider dismounted and embraced Jon when they reached each other. "You got bigger. I rode all day, didn't want to leave your father alone with the Lannisters." Benjen glanced at Eadric and then back down to Jon. "Who's this, and why aren't you in the feast?"

"Lady Stark thought it would be an insult to the royal family to seat a bastard at the feast." Jon grimaced slightly but returned to a more passive face as he gestured to the Nord with his training sword. "This is Aedric."

"Eadric, not Aedric." The Nord corrected.

Benjen nodded to Eadric and turned back to Jon. "Well you're always welcome on the Wall. No bastard was ever refused a seat there."

"So take me with you when you go back."

Benjen shook his head slightly. "Jon..."

"Father will let me if you ask him, I know he will."

"The Wall isn't going anywhere." Benjen patted Jon on the shoulder.

"I'm ready to swear your oath." Jon insisted.

The older Stark sighed. "You don't understand what you'd be giving up. We have no families. None of us will ever father sons."

"I don't care about that."

Again Benjen sighed. "You might, if you knew what it meant. … I'd better get inside. Rescue your father from his guests. We'll talk later." Benjen patted Jon on the shoulder again and walked towards the slightly ajar door to the main hall, nodding slightly to Eadric as he walked past.

"Your Uncle's in the Nights Watch?" Both Eadric and Jon turned to see a short man walking out of the shadows, well, short would be an understatement, he was tiny. "And you're that Nord my brother told me about?" He asked gesturing to Eadric with the goblet in his hand.

"You know of Skyrim?"

The Imp nodded. "We have a few books on Tamriel in Casterly Rock, though I've never met one before."

Jon looked at Eadric for a moment but looked back at the Imp, crossing his arms. "You're Tyrion Lannister, the Queen's brother?"

"My greatest achievement." Tyrion said with a chuckle before drinking whatever was in his goblet. "You're Ned Starks bastard?" Jon glared at him. "Did I offend you? Sorry. You are a bastard though?"

Jon slowly nodded. "Lord Eddard Stark is my father."

"And Lady Stark is not your mother." He drank again. "Making you a bastard. Let me give you some advice, bastard. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armour. Then it can never be used to hurt you."

"What the hell do you know about being a bastard?" Jon spat.

"All Dwarfs are bastard in their fathers eyes." Tyrion explained before going into the main hall himself.

Jon scowled and raised his sword again. "Come at me."

"He's right you know." Eadric stated as he raised his own sword before advancing slowly, working out what the boy was going to do.

Jon sighed. "I know. If father lets me." He swung his sword at the advancing Nord, who backed away from its reach. "I'll join the Watch, then it won't matter if I'm a bastard."

"What's this Watch you plan on joining?" Eadric asked as he advanced again, only to receive the same strike as before.

"The Nights Watch, guardians of the Wall, they keep the Wildlings out of the South." Jon began advancing himself tried a thrust at the large target the Nord presented, who quickly swatted aside the blade. "Those who join can't have wives, children or titles. You take the oath, you're there for good."

"Who built this wall they defend."

"Bran the builder, my ancestor. He built it eight thousand years ago at the end of the long night." Jon advanced again, their rather lax spar not escalating as they talked.

The Nord held his blade out in warning. "Eight Thousand..." He shook his head slightly. "History of Tamriel doesn't go back that far, not even the Elves talk of that long ago."

Jon stopped advancing and looked at him. "Elves? You mean like out of the stories?" He rested the swords tip on the ground.

"No. Actual Elves. Most of the legends of the Nords involves killing Elves... Or Dragons." The Nord explained as he rested the sword on his mailed shoulder, their spar seemingly over now.

"Oh, just Legends?"

Eadric scoffed. "Legends that are true. In Tamriel men fought the Elves to a standstill in the Imperial province three years ago." He chuckled at the stories the returning Soldiers had told him in the Bannered Mare, he hadn't fought in the war, too soon after Njada's kidnapping. "Captured the Elven bitch Queen herself in battle and forced her to surrender, then we executed every Elf who followed her and sent her home in little more than rags."

"Every one?" Jon looked wary, probably not believing it.

"Those bastards outlawed the worship of Talos and murdered anyone who even tried to worship him. They banned the god of men all because they were too high and mighty to accept a mere humanas better than them." He clenched his left hand. "Then in the second War they murdered every man, woman and child they found, they deserved nothing less than death! And we gave it to them."

Jon still didn't look overly convinced. Looking up at the moon, that looked like it had reached its apex. "Getting late, maybe I'll see you tomorrow." He held out his hand.

Eadric took it and shook it. "Oh you will, I want to see this Wall of yours with my own eyes, something that old needs to be seen to be believed."

Jon looked at him for a moment before nodding slowly. "That's if father lets me go." He muttered as he walked off.

Chuckling, Eadric picked up his axe and made his way down to the castle village, hoping to find an inn to sleep in.

Thanks for reading and don't forget to leave a review if you so wish. I'm new so all reviews are welcome.