Disclaimer: No one can truly own a Dragon, for a Dragon is freedom personified. A story on the other hand, someone can own. Sadly, I am not that someone.
Bitter the season for wolves all alone
Nameless and heartless and far from home
Cold the winds blow and soon Snow shall fall
For my doom, with the winter is coming.
BardMichaelKelly – A Song of Snow.
"Let me guess...someone stole your sweet roll?" - Hold Guard.
Dragon of the North: The Pendulum Swings.
The thing about time travel. Jon mused to himself. Is that it is utterly confusing! He had lived for thirty years, in another world. He had been an old man of forty seven when he was brought back into this time, less than a moon turn ago. So by all logic, he should not be able to recall the things that happened before his return, as clearly as he does. He could recall that two moon turns ago, five year old Bran lost his first baby tooth. Or six weeks back, Septa Mordane had to chase Arya around half of Winterfell. Memories he had long since forgotten, even before his first death. It was as if he had just lived them. In a way, he supposed he had just lived them. That is to say his body had just lived them. But his mind, his mind was that of an old man. Wasn't it?
Still, how much does the body effect ones perceived age? When he had been in Cyrodiil, he was a man grown, others sought him out for wisdom and guidance. Now he could barely hold the gaze of his Lord Father, without wanting to look down! Why? He was technically older than his father... Right? There was no logical reason that when he is eyed by a mere girl of ten and three years that he would blush and look away. But he did. It was all madding! It was not as if he had never bedded a woman before.
But confusion about his mental age was not the worst part. The worst part was the weakness. At forty seven, he was one of the greatest warriors to have ever walked Cyrodiil. With the height and strength of a true Nord. But at twelve?... A Breton could have knocked him over. This he would have to rectify! Thankfully he had two years to do so. But that was not all he had to do, he had to start planing how to save his family. He had two years to try and figure how to stop the war of the five kings, or short of that. Try to insure a Northern victory! And that's not even taking into account The Others. He was going to need help.
Which was why he was preparing to go on a week long 'Hunting Trip'. At least that was what he had told his Lord Father. Truth was, he was going to a place Lord Akatosh showed him a vision of.
"Sure you wouldn't like me along, Brother?" Asked Robb, from his side.
"Nay, Brother." Spoke Jon. "I can move faster on my own."
"Besides." He added giving Robb a smirk. "Your kind of ugly would scare off all deer."
"Bah!" Said his brother with fake annoyance. "Be off with you than."
"I'll be back in a week, brother." Jon said, as he spurred his horse. "With a nice plump deer to eat."
"I'll eat my boot, if you catch more than a cold!" Robb called after him.
Jon chuckled as he headed in the direction of the Wolfswood. It took a bit to reach it. But once he was in the tree line, did what he needed to do. Magic was not something oft seen in Westeros, and to reveal that you can do it would be risky at best. Which was why he wanted to well out of sight, before he would use this spell. Hermaeus Mora was NOT his most favorite Daedric Prince. But Jon would be lying if he said he didn't learn some very useful things in his dealings with the Daedric Prince of knowledge.
Such as the spell he was about to use. Picturing where it was he wanted to go, Jon opened himself to his Magicka. In the palm of his hand formed a black ball of condensed energy, so dark it was like staring into an abyss. Opening his fingers, the ball shot out in front of him. Where it seemed to tear a hole in the air itself. But Jon knew that the hole was a portal, that would take him where he wanted to go. Placing a light calming spell on his horse, they entered the portal.
In flashes of color and light, Jon and his horse appeared in a whole new location. No longer was he surrounded by the trees of the Wolfswood. Now it was mountains and foot hills that inclosed around him, The Northern Mountain Range! Endless days of travel done in an instant! Sometimes... Jon loved magic. Looking around, Jon saw something that was all to familiar to him. A stone arch sticking out the side of a foot hill. In the center of the archway was a door. It was a Barrow! Instinctively Jon's hand went to sword at his side. Barrows were places of danger. And yet... he had a feeling this is where the Father of Dragons wants him to go. Where he would find aid.
Dismounting his horse, he sent it to drink from a near by stream that ran off a mountain. And made his way to the entrance of the Barrow. Entering a Crypt or Barrow, always filled Jon with a certain amount of trepidation. They were almost always full of bandit's, mages, and all manner of undead. And while he tried to calm himself with the fact that this was Westeros and not Skyrim. The fact remained, that he had plenty of run in's with undead in this world as well. Keeping his hand on the hilt of his sword, Jon slowly opened the door and stepped inside.
What he saw was not what he was expecting. Every Barrow he had ever entered had always been in varying states of decay and disuse. But this one actually looked... New! Past the entrance way was an empty room with a door on the other side of the room. That was not uncommon in crypts. What was uncommon was the polished stone the room was made of. The floor was made up of smooth rust red stone. And the walls and pillars looked like gleaming black marble. Reflecting the light of lit torches that hung from the pillars... Someone was here!
Crossing the room, he opened the door at the other end to behold a staircase leading down. It was large and wide, easily able to let four men grown walk up or down it at the same time. The stairs were split into two sections by a stone trough that raised out of the stairs like a banister. Except it was filled with fire, that bathed the stairway in warmth and light. Following the stairs to the bottom, he saw they lead to a circular room with three doors. One to the right of the room, one to the front, and one to the left. But it was what was in the center of the room, that caught his eye.
On a stand made of black stone, was a silver Dragon Claw! Taking a closer look at the claw, he was that on the underside of it, was engraved three beasts. The top a Dragon. The middle a Wolf. The bottom a Crow. Putting the claw into his pack, he set about exploring what was beyond the three doors.
Deciding to save the center door for last, he headed to the left door. Opening it, he entered another long hallway. Except this was lined with doors. At least twenty one in all. Ten on each side with one at the end. Checking them out, he discovered they were all bed cambers. Each one equipped with a bed with furs and pillows. A wardrobe, a chest or drawers, as well as a bathing room and chamber pot.
The largest room was the one at the end. It was round with a four poster bed, a desk bookshelves, bedside tables, Dining table, as well as fur rug and a hearth. Exiting the hall or rooms, he explored the door to the right of the circular room. And found that it led to a dinning area, and kitchens, as well as a cold storage room for food. What was more was that it was fully stocked. Finally he made his way to the center door of the round room, and opened it.
On the other side was another long walk way and at the end a stone door with three rings of multiple engraved animals, circling around a center with what appeared to be claw marks. Stepping into the hall, he saw that both wall were engraved with pictures. He was shocked more to find they were pictures of his many adventures in Skyrim. What was this place?
Making his way to the door Jon arranged the rings in the order the Dragon Claw showed, than place the Claw into the central engraving and turned. With a low rumble, the door broke apart one half sliding down, the other up. Beyond it was another set of steps leading down. Following the stairs, he entered a huge cavernous room, and his heart froze! Because there, dozing in the center of the cavern next to a huge fire pit. Was the largest Dragon he had ever seen!
It was different than any dragon he had seen or fought in Skyrim. For one thing it was nearly twice the size of what he was used to. This thing could swallow a mammoth! It was also... Smoother! The Dovah of Skyrim, had large overlapping plates instead of scales. This gave them a more rugged look. This Dragon's scales were smaller and more compact. Much like the scale mail armor, favored by some swordsmen. It's head was less angular and more rounded.
Still there was something altogether familiar about the dragon. It's scales were blood red, and it's horns and spikes and the color of the leathery wings were of the whitest snow. Likewise blood red, were it's eyes... IT EYES!
They were open now and looking right at him! Jon went for his sword, and was preparing to shout at it. When it opened its mouth and spoke in a voice that Jon would never forget.
"Drem Yol Lok, Dovahkiin!" It said in an all to familiar voice.
"O-Odahviing?" Jon asked in shock.
"You were expecting, maybe... Clavicus Vile?" The Dragon asked with a deep resounding chuckle.
"I certainly wasn't expecting this!" Exclaimed Jon with a smile making its way to his face. "It is good to see you, brother. But look at you! If it wasn't for your voice, I wouldn't have recognized you."
"Father Akatosh, wanted me to resemble his children in this world." Remarked his old friend on his change in appearance. "Apparently they grow quit large here. But make up for it by being only a little more intelligent than common beasts! This I intend to change! They will learn the Thu'um, if I have to beat it into them!"
"Understood." Jon replied. "But how did you come to here? And what is this place?"
"Bormah drun zey het! I came to be here the same way as you. I would imagine." Answered the Dovah. "As far as to this place. A gift from Lord Akatosh! I and it were sent to aid you."
Jon took the opportunity, to look around him at the large cavern they were in. It was huge as he had first thought. For as Large as Odahviing now was, he only took up a small portion of it. Its roof was high and domed, and there were a few doors that lead to other places that he would have to explore later. Not to far off from where Odahviing lay, was a forge, that made the blacksmith in Jon want to cry out in joy.
It had everything he would need to forge weapons and armor. Around it were tall stacks of ingots of all types. From iron to ebony! That would defiantly come in handy later, as ebony or as it was known here 'Dragon Glass'. Was one of the few things that could kill the Others. Here Dragon Glass was brittle and easy to shatter, but in Cyrodiil they had discovered a way to forge it into a materiel stronger than steel. Luckily he had learned the method of how it was done.
"Lot Heim los nii ni?" Spoke Odahviing. "I see that you are admiring your new Forge. Dovahro Yol Heim! It burns with pure Dragon's Fire."
"It is truly amazing, Old Friend." He replied to the ancient Dragon.
Dragon's Fire? Jon pondered. Valyrian steel was said to be forged from spells and Dragon's Fire. It made Jon wonder, if maybe? Giving himself a mental shake he got back to the task at hand.
"Where do those doors lead?" Surly they led to something helpful.
"I do not know, Jon Snow." Said the Dragon, who Jon could almost swear was giving him a look of condescension. "For I can not fit through them!"
And that would explain the look. Jon thought. Deciding he'd best check them out. He went to the closest one. He came upon a Library the would put the one in the Mage's Collage to shame. The shelf's were lined with books and scrolls. Taking a look at a few of them he saw that they were a mix of books from Cyrodiil and his world. There were spell books of all kinds, maps, diagrams of forgotten war machines, cook books, books on plants and animals, history. All Jon could think of was that Sam would love this place!
The next room was filled with ingredients of all kinds. Everything from Moon Salt to Dragons blood. It also came complete with an Alchemy lab and an Arcane Enchanter. As well as various Soul Gems.
The next room, made Jon freeze and his eyes widen. It was a Treasury, that was already full to the brim! It had gold, silver, and Jewels. It was the fortune that he had amassed in his thirty years in Cyrodiil! With this restored to him, Jon could live like a king when this was over... Assuming he survived.
The last door lead to a bed chamber as well as a bathing room. This room was nearly four times the size of the other bed chambers he had come across. Not to mention that other than the door that led to the bathing room, which came with a heated bathing pool that would have fit right in at any of the bath houses of the Imperial City. There were also two other doors. One led to a room that was filled with Life Size mannequins, adorned on the mannequins were all his old Armors.
The next door led to a room full of display cases. In them were most of his old weapons. Jon couldn't help but smile at this place. It was nice to have even a small portion of his old home here. Not to mention one of his oldest friends and battle companions. Jon made a mental note to say a long prayer full of thanks to the Dragon God.
After a nice long hot bath in the rather spacious bathing pool Jon went into his new quarters and opened a cabinet to put on some sleep clothes. Only to receive a rather nasty shock. For as he opened the cabinet, something fell out that he had hoped to never see again. It was a long black staff with three faces carved at the top. It was Wabbajack!
None of his other daedric artifacts had been brought back, Not Azura's Star, not Dawnbreaker(Which would have been nice in dealing with the Others.). Not the Masque of Clavicus Vile, Not even the Skeleton Key! So why this one? Why Wabbajack?! Jon swore somewhere the Mad God himself was laughing at him... and demanding cheese. One thing was for certain though, and that was he would never be desperate enough to use Wabbajack!... Wabbajack, Wabbajack, Wabbajack!
Stashing Wabbajack where it would well out of sight and mind. He went to finish getting ready for sleep. As he was changing he caught a look at himself in a looking glass. Seeing the stranger in the reflation, this was one of the hardest things to get used to about time travel. Not recognizing himself, and it wasn't just his lack of facial scares either.
Moving closer to the looking glass, he let the glamor he had placed on himself his first few minutes back, drop. Now instead of dark brown hair, and eyes so grey the were nearly black. His hair was so blond that it nearly appeared white, and his eyes were a striking violet. The change in appearance, had happened the very first time he had absorbed a Dragon Soul. At the time without his memories, he had not thought much of it. Figuring it was something to do with being Dragonborn. But now however, now he thought that his 'Father' had some explaining to do. Jon just needed to make sure he lived long enough to do it.
With those thoughts in his head, Jon forced himself into bed. Tomorrow would be a long day. As tomorrow he would start his planing.
Jon cursed not for the first time in the last few days. The problem he was having was that, how could he prevent the War of the Five Kings. When he didn't really know what had started it. What had gotten his father arrested? Why was he executed? What was the catalyst? He just didn't know. Until he knew more there was little he could do.
Then there was the problem with himself. He needed to strengthen his body, also he was going to have to reteach himself his fighting style. It was a style he had developed after many years in Skyrim. Truthfully it was a mix of fighting styles. What he had done was blend the styles of the Blades, the Thieves Guild, and Assassins Guild, and his own hard learned lessons into one. It was a style that he eventually passed on to his adopted son, Aventus.
He had to shake himself from those thoughts. He missed his son and his daughter, Lucia. Though he didn't worry for them. Aventus grew into a strong young man, that any father would be proud of. And Lucia, went on to marry Balgruuf's oldest boy, Frothar. And they already had two small children of their own, now. This pleased Balgruuf to no end, as it made the Jarl and he family. While Jon had initially had his misgivings about the relationship. Frothar turned out to be a fine husband to Lucia, and it help that his good father happen to be the Dragonborn. Something Lucia was not afraid to bring up, if Frothar stepped out of line.
But back to the problem at hand, much like an invalid having to teach himself how to walk again. Jon was going to have to teach his body how to fight again. This would not be fun. He would also need to start taking lessons from Mikken in Winterfell. As he needed to be seen 'learning' how to forge. That was going to be tedious at best, as he could likely teach Mikken a few new things. On the up side of things. Working the forges both here and there, would build his strength quickly.
Jon sighed, he would have to leave this place soon. As he needed to actually hunt and bag some game, if he wanted his 'Hunting Trip' excuse to be believable. Especially as he planed to go on a lot of hunting trips in the next two years. Getting up from his desk, he headed back into the Dragon Hold as he had started to call it. He was trying to see if he could come up with something that was as strong as or better than Valyrian Steel. Using his Dragon Fire Forge, and Dragon Shouts. So far the results looked promising.
Jon heard a commotion, as he rode through the gates of Winterfell. Dragging a large buck and two doe behind his horse. Looking he saw it was Robb and Arya. Arya was smiling at his return, but Robb had a gobsmacked look on his face. Remembering what Robb had shouted as he had rode out six day prier. He smirked at his brother.
"Shell I inform the Kitchens that you'll be having boot tonight while the rest of us enjoy some Venison, my Lord?" He asked Robb mockingly as he rode by.
A few days later, Jon looked at his creation. It was something he had thought up to train his son in his sword style. It consisted of a square batch of poles sticking out of the ground. Suspended above the poles was a Pendulum made of wood with several bags full of dirt. The bags like the Pendulum would swing back and forth, and you would have to dodge them while attacking the Pendulum. With the ultimate goal of being able to do it blindfolded. Using this method, you either get quick or get bruised!
Knowing that a good portion of the people that had helped him set it up. As well as Ser Rodrik and his father were watching him. He climbed on to the poles. One thing was for true. The next two years promised to be very interesting.
(A.N) Well I hope you guys like it. Not a very long chapter, but these first few chapters are really just to build things up. The next one will likely be split POV's between a few Characters. Before any of you ask, yes I got the idea for the Pendulum from Witcher 3.
As far as Wabbajack goes, I have my reasons for including it. After all it's not like I am insane or anything... Wabbajack, Wabbajack, Wabbajack!
Well, please review and tell me what you think. Is it good? Could it be better? What do you like about? What do you hate about? And to the guy who wrote the really long review. The least you could do is make the review about my story. As I have no idea what the heck you were talking about. The next one will be deleted. I love reviews and questions, but they need to be about the story in question, or at least a story that I wrote.
If any of you have an questions don't be afraid to let me know. I read all my reviews. Well I've got to go now, before some steals my sweet roll. Thank you and I'll see you next chapter.
Reddog24485.