Chapter Text
Breezehome, Whiterun, Skyrim
Night fell over Skyrim and the moons hung high in the sky as Jon sat in Breezehome, his cottage in Whiterun that Jarl Balgruuf the Greater had given him in gratitude for his help in slaying the dragon Mirmulnir that had attacked the Western Watchtower, supporting Irileth, the Jarl's huscarl who had led the guards of Whiterun in the fight against the dragon, enjoying a well-deserved rest, considering that tomorrow he would travel to High Hrothgar to meet with the Greybeards. Now he could reminisce about everything that had happened to him before he reached this place.
His involvement with the Jarl's men had contributed to what he now had and what few men in Westeros had achieved in the past - slaying a dragon. Before Mirmulnir died from the fatal blow Jon dealt, driving a blade straight into one of his eyes, he said the words "Dovahkiin! No!" At that time he did not know what it meant, because he had never heard the word "Dovahkiin" before, although he knew that the dragons of this world could speak.
Then he absorbed his soul, receiving all of his knowledge and memories which literally flooded Jon's mind (which is how he learned his name), but he quickly mastered it in a way he still did not understand, and then he heard from one of the guards that he was to be the legendary Dragonborn, a human with the soul of dragon, who could absorb the souls of defeated dragons and wield the Th'um with an ease no other human could. Honestly, if it weren't for what he experienced then, he would have thought that the guard was saying crazy things.
When Irileth asked him to hurry to Whiterun to tell Balgruuf of the dragon's death, on the way he heard a loud DOVAHKIIN! echoing somewhere in the sky. Then, when he came to Dragonsreach and reported to the Jarl, he told him that the cry he had heard was nothing more than a summons from the Greybeards, and that it was a great honor, and that he should go to them as soon as possible. For they dwelt in High Hrothgar, atop the Throat of the World, the highest mountain in Tamriel. He made him Thane of Whiterun, gave him a house and weapons, and gave him a personal guard, a huscarl, who turned out to be a woman named Lydia.
Beautiful and devoted, Jon could always rely on her as he found out and before he decided to answer the Greybeards' call he dealt with various orders from the inhabitants of Whiterun and also on his own he was involved in exploring the near and far areas of the lands of Whiterun, which brought him good money and Lydia accompanied him many times, supporting him with an armed arm and in the evenings she was more than willing to offer him a completely different kind of services than an additional sword in the fight against outlaws, wild animals, spiders, necromancers, draugrs or other monsters he encountered during his wanderings.
Jon was rather surprised by Lydia's rather clear suggestion and told her that he would not abuse his position as Thane and would not force his huscarl to do anything and certainly not to sleep with him (although he had a great desire for her, Lydia was quite a beautiful and brave woman).
Lydia only smiled and lightly poked him in the chest with her finger.
"You're not forcing me, my sweet Thane. I like you very much and I see that you often glance at me. There's nothing wrong with me warming your bed from time to time. Besides, I can see that you like the idea very much," she said in a flirtatious tone.
Jon couldn't lie, considering that his own penis had betrayed him, making a tent in his pants at the thought of putting Lydia to bed and fucking her with his cock.
“I see my sweet Thane has a big problem with his pants. I would be a poor housecarl if I didn’t take care of it. Let me help you with that,” Lydia said, walking over to Jon and kneeling before him. And Jon allowed himself to be a fool not to take advantage of it.
Lydia smirked as she touched the waistband of his pants, then slowly pulled his pants down. Jon’s cock popped out of his pants, almost hitting Lydia in the face. The housecarl had a shocked expression on his face, silent for a long time, staring intently at his large cock.
“Is something wrong, Lydia?” Jon asked, concerned that his housecarl was silent.
"Nothing, Thane, just...gods you're big. I didn't expect you could have such a big, impressive cock. I'll serve you with even greater satisfaction, Thane," Lydia finally said, wrapping one of her hands around Jon's swollen cock. He groaned loudly at that. No woman had ever touched him in this place before, but he really liked it.
"Only if you call me Jon in bed. You don't have to be formal with me, Lydia," Jon replied, then groaned as Lydia tugged lightly on his cock.
"As you wish, my Thane...I mean Jon. Now relax and let me please you," Lydia replied, then wrapped her red lips around the head of his cock.
Jon moaned loudly, almost instinctively wrapping his fingers around Lydia's dark hair. He could hear the sounds of slurping and sucking as the woman sucked on his cock. He watched as she took inch by inch until she managed to take most of Jon's cock, but not all of it. He didn't mind, no woman had ever done that for him and he wasn't going to complain.
"Ghhhm" Lydia purred, sucking and licking Jon's massive cock intensely.
"Oh gods yes, oh yes Lydia. Don't stop, it feels like heaven when you suck my cock like that" Jon moaned, his fingers in the woman's soft, raven hair.
Lydia didn't say anything, but only increased her oral work on Jon's cock. Jon could now understand why the arrogant Theon Greyjoy loved having his cock sucked by sluts. It was a heavenly feeling, one that Jon hoped he would experience more than once.
"Fuck Lydia. I can feel that I won't last long. Your mouth and tongue are too much for me" Jon moaned, but Lydia sped up even more.
"Oh fuck, I'm coming!" Jon moaned, then ejaculated heavily into Lydia's mouth. His Huskarl swallowed all of his seed without a problem, then she wiped her red lips with her elbow.
"Your seed tastes good, Jon. You'd think you'd never had sex with a woman," Lydia said, smiling at Jon.
"You're honestly the first woman to do that to me. And it was really great," Jon replied, slightly embarrassed.
"Great, so I'll be your first, Jon. And as your Huskarl, I'll teach you everything about pleasing a woman in bed. After my teachings, no woman will leave your bed unsatisfied," Lydia said, getting up from her knees.
“You know what Lydia. I have something I want to check with you,” Jon said.
“Of course, Jon. Let’s go to bed and you can show me what it is,” Lydia said and pulled Jon into his bedroom.
They quickly found themselves in Jon’s bedroom (Lydia’s bedroom was right next to his. The Huskarl, as Thane’s personal guard, often lived with him in his house, as Lydia had explained to him), where Lydia had shed her steel, leather and fur-trimmed armor, standing before Jon naked as if it were her name day. And Jon admired her athletic, toned figure, her long legs, strong, agile arms, a firm ass that begged to be spanked, and a perfectly firm pair of breasts. Jon felt his cock getting rock hard again. Lydia gave him her most charming and tempting smile.
“My Thane, you are overdressed. Strip down and join your Huskarl,” Lydia said.
Jon wasted no more time, his clothes landed on the floor and he quickly walked over to Lydia.
"Oh, I like what I see" Lydia said as Jon reached her.
"Lay down and I'll show you what I want to do Lydia" Jon said and the woman did as he said.
He quickly landed between Lydia's legs where he used his tongue to pleasure the woman. Theon had bragged more than once that he could make a slut come by using his tongue on her pussy. Jon decided to take advantage of this now and test it on Lydia. He was not disappointed when he heard Lydia moan loudly.
"By the eight gods, she has never felt so good! Don't interrupt Jon, use your tongue on my pussy!" Lydia moaned. "Fuck, if that's what you want to show me then I'm glad I agreed."
"And that's not all, I won't finish until my beautiful warrior comes," Jon said, taking his eyes off the wet pussy for a moment.
"Oh yes, do it Jon. Show your housecarl how you do it," Lydia said and Jon returned to his warrior's pussy.
Jon worked on Lydia's pussy with almost voracious hunger, licking her clit, hitting sensitive spots, wanting to bring the beautiful warrior to the heights of pleasure. And although he had no great experience in this, he made up for it with enthusiasm and zeal. And Lydia's loud moans more than made up for it. He was pleased that his faithful warrior was so pleased. She fully deserved it.
"Oh yes, there Jon, right there. It makes me feel like I'm going to come at any moment!" Lydia moaned, and Jon felt her skilled fingers on his head.
Jon of course did as Lydia asked him, hitting the most sensitive spots in her pussy, eliciting loud moans from his loyal warrior.
"Gods, I'm going to come! Jon, don't stop until I come and I'm almost there!" Lydia moaned and Jon did as his loyal warrior asked.
After a while he felt Lydia come and her moans must have been heard all over Whiterun, but Jon didn't care. What mattered was that Lydia was pleased with his work.
Jon stood up, looking at Lydia, who was lying there, panting heavily and beads of sweat running down her bare skin.
"I really can't believe this is the first time you've done something like this. You've made me feel like I've never felt before," Lydia said.
"And it's true, I heard it from my half-brother's friend and I thought why not check it out," Jon said, although he didn't really want to think about Theon and Robb in such a situation.
"Time for me to return the favor, because I can see your cock is already hard. Let me mount you and give you the sex you deserve, Jon," Lydia said, and without waiting for Jon's reaction, she turned him over and mounted his cock. Jon groaned loudly as he felt Lydia's velvety pussy clamp down on his cock like a vice.
"Fuck, it feels like I'm being split in half! You're going to ruin me for other men, Jon!" Lydia moaned.
And Jon felt possessive of Lydia, grabbing the woman by the hips and pressing her against his crotch.
"Good, you're mine alone, Lydia. No other man will touch you, or I'll castrate him. Only my cock will ravage your tight pussy and fill you with my seed, no one else," Jon almost rasped, although it was hard to tell why he had acted like that in the first place. Maybe it's some side effect of taking the souls of dragons?
"Oh yes, Jon! I'm yours and no other man will touch me! I can be your wife, your lover, your concubine or just a bed warmer, just fuck me with that giant cock until I can't walk!" Lydia screamed, moaning like a loose whore from a brothel.
She rested her hands on Jon's chest, riding him fiercely. Her full, firm breasts bounced as she rode his cock, her eyes clouded with lust. And Jon fully enjoyed Lydia's ride, staring at the magnificent breasts of his brave, loyal warrior.
"Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, that's what I needed! A big, wonderful cock like no other. I'm glad the Jarl has named me your housecarl, Jon. From the moment you first walked through the doors of Dragonsreach, I was intrigued and I admit, your charm drew me to you," Lydia moaned, not stopping her ride on Jon's cock.
Jon could only enjoy the ride Lydia was giving him, but he knew he would come soon. Lydia would quickly bring him to the point where he would cum inside her. He didn't have the stamina to last long. Maybe some other time, when he had it, not now.
"Gods, I'm going to come, Lydia," Jon moaned.
"Not just you, Jon. I can feel myself coming too. Let's come together, Jon Snow," Lydia replied, or rather moaned.
It wasn't long after such an intense ride of his loyal warrior, when with a loud groan Jon came in Lydia's pussy and his warrior came loudly too, only to land next to him on the bed, breathing heavily. Jon was breathing heavily, coming after such intense sex. He stood up, looking at Lydia's naked body glistening in the candlelight and felt that he could fuck his warrior once more, and he was especially interested in her wonderful, round ass that was just begging for it.
Lydia noticed Jon's look and smiled flirtatiously.
"My sweet Thane has the strength for one more time? I will gladly fulfill this request, after all I swore to carry your burdens" said the warrior.
Jon smiled at her.
"I would like to have your ass, Lydia, if you don't mind."
"This might be tough, Jon. I don't know how your big cock will fit in my ass. You can do it, but be careful," Lydia said, rolling onto her stomach and giving Jon access to her luscious ass.
"I'll be careful, Lydia. You can trust me," Jon replied.
"I trust you, Jon. That's why I'm letting you do this," Lydia replied.
Jon stood behind Lydia and slowly, inch by inch, slid his impressive cock into his warrior's tight ass.
"Fuck, I can feel it bursting inside me. But don't stop, fuck my ass, my Thane," Lydia said, and Jon thought she was teasing him now.
"Then be my good housecarl and take it with dignity," Jon said with a confident tone, feeling his heart grow possessive over his beautiful warrior.
"Oh fuck, I will, my Thane. Take me like I deserve," Lydia moaned.
And so Jon began to fuck her hard, his big balls slapping Lydia's magnificent ass every now and then. And Lydia, moaning so much that even in Dragonsreach they probably had to hear her. Jon smiled at this wicked thought, not stopping taking Lydia from behind. It was like nothing else he had experienced. As if all he wanted was to claim his warrior, his woman as his own, and no one else's.
After all, she was his housecarl and she was HIS. He really didn't know where such thoughts came from, but they only came to him at that moment, when he was making love to Lydia. He didn't know why, but he didn't care. After all, it wasn't anything dangerous or bad.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck" Lydia chanted, her ass bouncing as Jon took her hard, giving her the best sex of her life. "Don't stop, my sweet Thane. Fuck me until you come and fill my tight ass with your seed."
And Jon was determined to do just that. Lydia was all too willing to do it and Jon wasn't going to let his loyal, beautiful warrior down. So he fucked her long and hard, the sounds of his cock and balls slapping against Lydia's ass and their loud moans echoing through the bedroom. Even if tomorrow the townspeople complained about the loud noises coming from his house, he wouldn't care. What mattered now was pleasing his lover.
Gods, he was starting to turn into Theon. Still, he had to admit one thing to Greyjoy, sex with a woman was a wonderful pleasure, not that he'd ever say that to his face.
"I'm about to come, Lydia," Jon said, feeling that he wouldn't last much longer.
"Do it, Jon. He filled my ass with his seed. Do it!" Lydia screamed and Jon did it.
With one last, powerful thrust, Jon spilled himself inside Lydia's ass and his warrior screamed loudly in ecstasy as he filled her with his cum. After a moment, he pulled his cock out of Lydia's wet pussy, which had already fallen. He wouldn't have the strength to fuck again today, so he lay down next to Lydia, who wrapped her slender hands around Jon's torso and her ample breasts pressed against his stomach.
"My sweet Thane, if you need relief from your hard days, I'm always happy to help. And I hope that I can share your bed with you from time to time. It'll be hard for me to get over your wonderful, big cock for long. I'll gladly let you use my body however you please," Lydia said.
"Oh, I certainly won't deny you that, Lydia. A beautiful, loyal warrior like you deserves special recognition from her Thane," Jon said with a smile.
Jon remembered that they had fallen asleep in each other's arms that night, and the next day Lydia had taken a drug that would prevent her from getting pregnant. It would be better that way, he knew. The memory made him hard. Maybe then he'd go invite Lydia to join him. She certainly wouldn't refuse him, she'd even drag him to bed herself. But now Jon wondered how he had ended up in this strange world in the first place. Yes, how he had ended up was strange, tied to one of the gods of this world.
Jon thanked the gods that shortly after waking in a field near the Imperial City, he had been found by the priests of Akatosh otherwise his fate would be miserable, he could have just as easily ended up as a beggar or a thief which sooner or later could have ended up being caught by the city guard and most likely losing a finger or two which was the usual punishment for thievery in Westeros and probably was the same here. Even though Akatosh was an asshole who dragged Jon from his home in Winterfell, at least he was kind enough not to abandon him to his fate. So much good came out of it.
As High Priest Aulus, the head of the temple of Akatosh in the Imperial City, the capital of the Empire, told him later, his god Akatosh had sent him a vision the night before his arrival in which he revealed that a young man would come from another world, whose fate and destiny would be tied to this world, if only for a short time, and that he would lead him further north to the harsh and cold Skyrim, the land of the proud, stubborn and honorable Nords.
His task, and that of those priests he led, he said, was to acquaint Jon with this world and teach him its ways, and when the time came, which would be revealed by Akatosh himself, he would journey north to Skyrim to learn his destiny. Jon honestly didn't understand much of it then, he was only fourteen, almost a grown man in Westeros, who as the bastard of Ned Stark thought the only decent option for him as an illegitimate son would be to join the Night's Watch like his uncle Benjen, who was the First Ranger of the Night's Watch. But now another life loomed before him, though he didn't like being torn from his own world. Even now he didn't understand much of it.
And that surprised and amazed him, for he didn't understand how he could have ended up in another world. It couldn't be possible, surely Tamriel had to be a land lying west of Westeros, beyond the wide waters of the Sunset Sea. And that was what Jon had told High Priest Aulus.
"I have never heard of such a continent, boy. Of Akavir and Atmora, yes, but never of Westeros. And Akatosh has revealed to me that you are not of our world. Accept this. But fear not! Your fate is not permanently bound to Nirn, but only for a short time. Trust in the will of Akatosh and surely in time he will reveal to you all his plans concerning you," the high priest replied.
Jon did not much like trusting in a god he had never heard of, but considering that he was no longer in Winterfell but in the temple of Akatosh in the Imperial City in Cyrodiil, it must mean that their god did exist and had the power to do such a thing. He also had no choice but to remain among the priests of Akatosh for a while. For he knew nothing of this world and did not know how he would cope. And so for the next four years he lived in the temple of Akatosh among the novices and was taught by the priests and the high priest himself everything he needed to know about this world. And there was so much of it that Jon sometimes felt like it was too much for anyone to handle.
He learned much about the history of the Empire and the history of Tamriel, he learned much about their eight gods (They had a ninth god before, Talos, who was once a man called Tiber Septim, the founder of the Empire and the Septim line, which had died out some two hundred years earlier during the "Oblivion Crisis", when the Daedric cult of Mehrunes Dagon, known as the Mythic Dawn, made a successful assassination attempt on Emperor Uriel Septim VII and his three legitimate sons, which allowed the Daedric Prince to open the gates of Oblivion throughout Tamriel and attack with his hordes of monsters and demons. As the High Priest explained to him, the Emperor's bastard named Martin, who at that time was a priest of Akatosh in his temple in Kvatch sacrificed himself to stop Dagon, who had managed to enter Tamriel, using the Amulet of Kings and transforming into an avatar of Akatosh himself, banishing the Daedric Prince back to his dimension, and Martin himself in Akatosh's form petrified, becoming a statue that stands in the capital of the Empire to this day. The fact that Talos was not recognized as a god and his worship was banned throughout the Empire was the result of a peace treaty called the White-Gold Concordat after the Great War caused by the attack of the Aldmeri Dominion on the Empire) being a pantheon called the Nine Divines (or rather the Eight).
Akatosh, according to the High Priest, was the Dragon God of Time and the leader of the rest of the gods, which in Jon's opinion made him a kind of king of the gods and a kind of Father in the Faith of the Seven.
The other gods, not counting Talos, were Arkay, God of the Cycle of Life and Death (which reminded him of the Stranger from the Faith of the Seven), Dibella, Goddess of Love and Beauty, Julianos, God of Wisdom and Logic, Kynareth, Goddess of Air, Wind, Sky and the Elements, Mara, Goddess of Love Compassion, being the Mother Goddess (which reminded him of the Mother from the Faith of the Seven), Stendarr, God of Compassion, Mercy and Justice and Zenithar, God of Work and Commerce, patron of merchants and traders. Talos himself was considered the God of Conqueror, Power and Honor, although privately Jon did not think that any man, no matter how great, could become a god after death.
Even the Targaryens did not claim that Aegon the Conqueror became a god after death, joining the Seven. His education about this world was not limited to the history and theology of the Eight Divines. He was shown a map of Tamriel and Jon could see for himself how vast the continent was, although he could not tell if it was larger or smaller than Westeros.
He was told about the many extraordinary intelligent races living in Tamriel. Not only humans like the Imperials, Nords, Bretons or Redguards (who reminded him of the Summer Islands in appearance) but also races like the Elves, and there were several of them. High Elves called Altmer with golden skin and eyes, Wood Elves called Bosmer with dark skin, living in harmony with nature or Dark Elves called Dunmer with ash skin and red eyes who looked like that because they were cursed by one of the Deadric Princes called Azura for the actions of three of their members.
Jon personally thought it was vile, punishing an entire race for the actions of a few. High Priest Aulus told him that if he ever came into contact with any of the Deadric Princes, he should be careful. They have no respect for any life, whether it is human or elf, and often use mortals in their own games and rivalries with each other, and Azura, although not as evil as some of the Deadric Princes, still needed to be careful when dealing with them. He also said that they do not have one fixed gender, and some appear as males and others as females, but they can also appear however they like.
Jon was particularly surprised not by the elves or orcs called Orsimer, and according to the high priest, they had some distant connections with other elves, but by the Khajiit and Argonian races. One was basically catmen and the other lizardmen, and their homelands were Elsweyr and the Black Marshes, respectively, but they, like all other intelligent races, can be found in many other lands of Tamriel. Jon found it hard to believe at first, but one of the priests of Akatosh was a native Khajiit named Karh'dar, who spoke about himself in the third person, which surprised Jon, but also convinced him that these were not some sailor's fantasies but real people, and if he saw a Khajiit, he didn't have to see an Argonian to believe they existed (although when he went with the priest Marik, who watched over the novices and also over him, to the market in the Imperial City, where he saw one of the Argonians).
The Imperial City itself was a magnificent city, and although Jon had never been to King's Landing, he had heard that the city stank of shit. The Imperial City certainly didn't stink, being the seat of the current Imperial House of Mede, who had taken over the Empire after the Septims died out. They also taught him a bit about magic. Jon was excited to learn that magic existed and was practiced in this world.
They once had a Mages Guild in Cyrodiil, but it was disbanded many years ago and Syndon and the College of Whispers were founded in their place, and in Skyrim there was supposed to be an Academy where one could delve into the arcana of magic. Although the priests of Akatosh could not teach him much in this matter, he mastered the basic healing spell, useful for healing wounds and cuts received in battle, as well as the flame spell, which allowed him to shoot fire. Jon tested this spell when he accidentally burned himself while using the flame spell and after the burn it disappeared completely without the slightest trace. Jon promised himself that when the time came and he had to go to Skyrim, he would familiarize himself with the Academy to learn many other spells.
The high priest even hired a fencing teacher for him in the person of Marcus Vinitus, an old veteran from the Great War, gray-haired but still full of verve. Jon learned a lot from him and his manner reminded him of Ser Rodrik Cassel, although more strict and demanding. Thanks to regular training with Marcus Vinitus, Jon had significantly improved his sword skills.
"You have talent, Snow. Develop it and there will be few who can match you with a sword in hand, boy," the older man said, which was the highest praise coming from his lips.
And Jon had no intention of neglecting his sword training, for Tamriel was a rather dangerous land, where danger lurked in the wilds and even on the roads one had to be careful. And Skyrim was considered a wild and dangerous land. That's how Jon spent the next four years until the time came when he was summoned to the private chambers of High Priest Aulus.
"The Great Akatosh revealed his will to me last night. Your time has come. Go to Skyrim, for there awaits your destiny. The time of the World Eater is coming, and only you stand between him and the end of all. The temple will provide you with everything you need for your journey north. Also accept this humble gift from me - the Amulet of Akatosh so that the grace of our god may descend upon your shoulders," said Aulus, handing Jon the Amulet of Akatosh. Stylized as a dragon, with a sword pointed at its muzzle. A strange symbol, but after all, Akatosh was a god in the form of a dragon, so it was not surprising at all. Jon did not reject this gift and accepted it with gratitude.
"Thank you for all the help you have given me, High Priest. I will not forget this," said Jon, grateful indeed for all the help he had received.
The temple gave him a magnificent horse, a powerful steed with sin-black mane, fur, and eyes, simple steel armor, a sword and shield with the symbol of Akatosh, supplies, and a full purse of septims (the equivalent of golden dragons in this world). The high priest directed him to a Khajiit caravan that was headed to Skyrim. At that time, Jon knew little of the conflicts that were happening in Skyrim, and the name Ulfric Stormcloak meant nothing to him, except that he had been mentioned in history classes in a case called The Markarth Incident, which had occurred over twenty-six years earlier and Jon had not given it much thought.
The leader of the Khajiit caravan agreed to take him with him in exchange for his help in the event of an outlaw attack, and Jon accepted. It was not an excessive price to pay for the journey to Skyrim. He said goodbye to High Priest Aulus and the rest of the priests of Akatosh, who wished him a safe journey and that the grace of Akatosh himself would accompany him wherever his feet might take him.
For the next few weeks Jon traveled with the Khajiit caravan north to Skyrim. For the most part the journey went without any major problems and during the stops Jon often spoke with the Khajiit which allowed him to become a little more familiar with their culture and customs. They were attacked twice by bands of outlaws and bandits but they were easily repelled. That was the first time Jon had taken the life of a human, as well as an orc and an argonian. He felt no satisfaction in it, rather the necessity of doing what had to be done when someone wanted to take your life by force.
In doing so he put his years of training under Marcus Vinitus to the test, which confirmed that over the last four years he had become much better than when he had been torn from Winterfell and the outlaws had no chance. And his knowledge of basic magic spells came in handy when he felled an orc during the fight, but before he could plunge his sword straight into its heart, he managed to plunge a dagger into its leg. After the fight, he quickly took out his dagger and then used a healing spell to heal the unfortunate wound. The Khajiit appreciated his efforts, which was nice for Jon.
Everything went wrong when they crossed the Cyrodiil border into Skyrim. At first, there was nothing, they just crossed the border without any problems. According to the map, they were halfway between Riften and Falkreath. The caravan intended to stop for a while near Riften (because the Nords did not allow Khajiit caravans into their cities) and Jon intended to plan what to do next from there. Maybe he would go to Winterhold to join the College or maybe Akatosh would show him what he was supposed to do in Skyrim.
He never arrived in Riften. Near Darkwater Crossing the caravan passed some man traveling with a number and an armed retinue and Jon thought it must be one of the local Jarls (whom he knew from the lessons in the Temple of Akatosh were the equivalent of lords in Westeros) traveling with his own retinue. If only he had known then who the Jarl was.
Instantly a hail of arrows fell from the trees at the Jarl's escort and a moment later armed men burst out of the trees. Jon caught sight of them out of the corner of his eye and could see that they were not outlaws. They were too well armed and disciplined to be any kind of outlaw band. Jon had seen similar soldiers traveling through Cyrodiil with the caravan.
They were Imperial soldiers. Instantly the Khajiits scattered like leaves in the wind and Jon thought it would be best to escape as quickly as possible. However, it seemed that Imperial soldiers were pouring out from every side. Jon Snow spurred his horse, trying to escape and almost succeeded.
Almost, because halfway there his horse was hit in the neck by a shot arrow, squealing and falling dead to the ground. Jon leapt from the saddle at almost the last second, avoiding being crushed by his own dying horse.He reached for his sword, but before he could use it, someone hit him in the head.
When he regained consciousness, he was riding in a cart with three other men (one of whom had his mouth gagged), with bonds around his hands, completely stripped of all his equipment except the clothes on his back. A blond-haired man, who Jon could tell was middle-aged by appearances, noticed that he had regained consciousness and turned to him.
"Hey, you. You're finally awake. You were trying to cross the border, right? Walked right into that Imperial ambush, same as us, and that thief over there."
Jon looked around. He was in a carriage driven by an Imperial soldier and from what he could see, in front of them was another carriage with prisoners and then a single rider, and behind them was a single soldier in light Imperial armor on a chestnut horse. It didn't look good. So he turned to the blond man.
"I'm Jon Snow. I was traveling with a Khajiit caravan to Skyrim from Cyrodiil and we were headed to Riften when we had the misfortune of running into some Imperial ambush. I lost my horse and then passed out when someone hit me in the head. I just woke up now. And who are you?" Jon said.
"Ralof of Riverwood. A loyal warrior in the cause of Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak. It's nice to meet you, Jon Snow, brother in chains. Your Khajiit comrades abandoned you as soon as the attack began. From what I understand, they managed to escape the Imperials. You were the only one unlucky enough to be caught," the blond man, who called himself Ralof, replied.
“Damn you Stormcloaks. Skyrim was fine until you came along. Empire was nice and lazy. If they hadn't been looking for you, I could've stolen that horse and been halfway to Hammerfell. You there, Jon Snow. You and me - we shouldn't be here. It's these Stormcloaks the Empire wants.” Another man with dark hair and dirty hair spoke up. A clearly nervous man who was also a horse thief, but Jon wondered who these Stormcloaks were. He had never heard of them before.
"We're all brothers and sisters in binds now, thief" Ralof said.
“Shut up back there!” the carter shouted, wanting to silence them.
“And what's wrong with him, huh?” the dark-haired man asked, nodding at the gagged blond man, richly dressed, indicating that he was not a commoner but most likely of noble birth. Jon quickly realized that this was the Jarl they had passed in Darkwater Crossing.
"Watch your tongue. You're speaking to Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King." Ralof replied sharply.
"But the High King of Skyrim is Torygg. Or so I heard when I left the Imperial City," Jon said.
Ralof turned to Jon.
"Your information is outdated, Jon Snow. Torygg was indeed the High King of Skyrim, but the noble Jarl Ulfric challenged him to an honorable duel in the ancient Nord traditions and defeated him by taking his life. He deserves to be crowned High King of Skyrim!" Ralof said.
Jon could have said that such a man would not be considered a hero in Westeros, but a perjurer and a traitor, but he refrained from commenting. He knew that if Jarl Ulfric had really killed King Torygg, then to the Empire he was nothing more than a traitor, and since he had been caught, they were probably going to the place where he would be executed. His father would have done the same. Jon, however, didn't like it, because it meant that he would lose his life as well, because they would think that he was supporting the rebel, even though today was the first time he had ever seen him in person.
"And why is his mouth gagged?" Jon asked.
Ralof sneered.
"The Empire fears what Jarl Ulfric might say, Jon Snow. It fears the true and unwavering son of Skyrim! Because his Voice brought Torygg to his knees and allowed Ulfric to win!" he replied.
"Ulfric? The Jarl of Windhelm? You're the leader of the rebellion. But if they've captured you... Oh gods, where are they taking us?" the dark-haired man spoke, and he could hear the terror in his tone. This didn't surprise Jon. He was terrified himself.
"I don't know where we're going, but Sovngarde awaits" Ralof said and Jon couldn't remember what Sovngarde was. Maybe some place where Nords went after they died? He wasn't sure and he didn't want to find out. He wasn't in a hurry to die.
"No, this can't be happening. This isn't happening." The dark-haired man spoke, looking increasingly terrified of what awaited them.
"Hey, what village are you from, horse thief?" Ralof asked the dark-haired man unexpectedly.
"Why do you care?" the dark-haired man asked gruffly.
"A Nord's last thoughts should be of home." Ralof replied shortly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Jon thought of Winterfell, of his siblings. About Robb's smiling, flushed face, about Arya's smiling face, about the always curious, more serious Sansa and even about Bran, who dreamed of becoming a knight and little Rickon.
He would never see them again and soon he would join his Stark ancestors. A truly lousy fate, Jon wanted to scream and ask Akatosh that this was to be his fate? To die as he was wrongly accused of supporting the rebels?!
"Rorikstead. I'm... I'm from Rorikstead." The dark-haired man replied.
"And what is your name? I don't know your name, thief," Jon said as the carriage began to pass through the gate of some fortified city.
"I am Lokir," the man replied reluctantly.
Jon nodded and looked around. He saw an older man in magnificent armor sitting on a horse, talking to a woman, escorted by two guards in golden armor, with golden skin, hair, and eyes. They were definitely Altmer, High Elves. Quite a beautiful race of elves. The woman the older man was talking to must have been someone important, judging by her attire and proud bearing.
"General Tullius, sir. The headsman is waiting." Said one of the Imperial soldiers. As Jon suspected, Ulfric would be executed here and he along with him.
"Good. Let's get this over with!" replied the older man who must have been General Tullius.
"Shor, Mara, Dibella, Kynareth, Akatosh. Divines, please help me," Lokir said, begging the gods for help. Jon doubted they would help, since Akatosh himself would not help him and it was he who ordered him to be sent to Skyrim. He wondered if the god had not amused himself at his expense and now he was watching as he soon lost his head for something he had not done.
"Look at him. General Tullius the Military Governor. And it looks like the Thalmor are with him. Damn elves. I bet they had something to do with this. This is Helgen. I used to be sweet on a girl from here. Wonder if Vilod is still making that mead with juniper berries mixed in. Funny... when I was a boy, Imperial walls and towers used to make me feel so safe." Ralof said.
Jon at least knew where he was now and Helgen, according to the maps, was the closest city to that fortified settlement, Whiterun. Quite a long way from Riften. He had heard about the Thalmor from lessons in the Temple of Akatosh. They ruled the Aldmeri Dominion, declared war on the Empire and imposed the terms of peace regarding the ban on the worship of Talos. He wondered if they had any part in what Ulfric had done to Torygg or if they had nothing.
He doubted he would live long enough to find out, unless Akatosh somehow saved him, which he doubted. Jon watched the people he passed on the street, leaving their homes. For them, the execution of a known rebel was not an everyday thing, so they would probably all come to see him lose his head. Jon heard a boy talking to his father.
"Who are they, daddy? Where are they going?" the boy said to his father.
"You need to go inside, little cub" the man replied.
"Why? I want to watch the soldiers" the boy protested.
"Inside the house. Now" the man replied, leaving no room for discussion.
"Yes, papa." The boy said and entered the house.
"Get these prisoners out of the carts. Move it" shouted a soldier in steel armor indicating that he was one of the highest officers in the Imperial army.
Jon knew from the voice that the officer was a woman, not that he had not heard before that in this world women could enlist in the army and rise through the ranks just as much as men. Something that would be incomprehensible to the people of Westeros was the norm here. After a moment the carriage stopped and Jon, looking around, saw that the first carriage that was ahead of them had also stopped and prisoners in Stormcloak armor were getting off.
A large figure of a hooded executioner and a woman in priestly robes appeared and although Jon was not certain, he guessed that she must be a priestess of Arkay, who was after all the god of life and death, which was perfect for the fact that the execution of the rebels was to take place here. He only hoped that Akatosh or maybe the Old Gods would free him from his oppression, although he did not have much hope.
"Why are we stopping?" Lokir asked, nervous.
"Why do you think? End of the line. Let's go. Shouldn't keep the gods waiting for us." Ralof replied, calmer than Lokir. He had clearly accepted his inevitable death, unlike the thief.
"No! Wait! We're not rebels!" Lokir shouted and Jon could see the fear in his eyes. This man was afraid of death, he realized. He would not willingly go to his execution.
"Face your death with some courage, thief." Ralof replied dispassionately and Jon could admire his dispassion in the face of imminent death. Not many people could do that.
"You've got to tell them! We weren't with you! This is a mistake!" Lokir continued, completely devastated.
"And they don't care, Lokir. They want Jarl Ulfric executed, and the fact that we were unlucky enough to be in the wrong place at the wrong time is none of their business. All we can do is accept our inevitable fate," Jon said, for the first time in a long time.
"Ha, a boy a decade younger than you has bigger balls than you, Lokir. I hope we meet again in Sovengarde, Jon Snow," Ralof said, amused by this.
Then the same woman who had ordered Jon and the rest of the prisoners he had been riding in the same wagon to be dragged out approached them. She had a stern expression on her face and Jon suspected that even if he had begged her for mercy, she would have refused to do so. But he had gotten himself into this completely by accident! The only thing he could think of was to turn to that general Tullius that Ralof had mentioned.
"Step towards the block when we call your name. One at a time." She said in a hard, dispassionate tone that left no room for discussion. Jon picked himself up from the bench and headed with the rest. Time to face his destiny.
"The Empire loves their damn lists." Ralof stated rather sarcastically as they got off the wagon. Jon noticed a man with brown hair in the armor of an Imperial soldier approach them. He had the letters and a quill pen in his hands.
"Ulfric Stormcloak. Jarl of Windhelm" the soldier said and Jarl Ulfric stepped forward.
"It has been an honor, Jarl Ulfric!" Ralof said. Yes, the man was extremely loyal to the rebel as Jon could see from his demeanor.
"Ralof of Riverwood. Lokir of Rorikstead," the soldier continued.
"No, I'm not a rebel. You can't do this!" Lokir shouted, and then simply started running. Jon thought it was stupidity and madness. The Imperial soldiers would simply kill him.
"Halt!" the female captain shouted.
"You're not going to kill me!" Lokir replied, still running.
"Archers!" the captain shouted, and one of the archers shot the unfortunate horse thief. She then turned to Jon and the rest of the prisoners.
"Anyone else feel like running?"
Jon was no fool, and he wasn't going to risk it like Lokir. Maybe his fate would change yet. Little did he know then how much it had changed. He was called by the same soldier who had read the names of his fellow soldiers from the list.
"Wait. You there. Step forward. Who are you?" he asked.
"My name is Jon Snow. I was traveling from the Imperial City in Cyrodiil to Skyrim with a Khajiit caravan, bound for Riften. I had the misfortune of falling right into the middle of your ambush on Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak and his men. The Khajiit escaped, but I was not so lucky. Let me out! I have nothing to do with that rebel. I didn't even know there was a war in Skyrim when I left the Imperial City," Jon said, almost pleading with the soldier. He checked the lists.
"You're not on the list, and your story sounds true. The soldiers said they saw Khajiit at the ambush site, but they all escaped. He asked the captain about it, Jon Snow," the soldier replied. He turned to the captain, speaking of which.
"Forget the list. He goes to the block," the captain replied dispassionately.
"By your orders, Captain," the soldier replied. He turned to Jon with these words: "I'm sorry. We'll make sure your remains are returned to Cyrodiil."
Jon couldn't take it, especially since his corpse should have been sent to Winterfell, not Cyrodiil.
"Is this fucking justice in the Empire!? That you sentence innocent people to death?! I spit on such injustice!" he shouted so loudly that they must have heard him throughout Helgen.
"Shut up prisoner, or I'll execute you myself," the captain snapped, approaching him.
"What in the name of the gods is going on here?" General Tullius asked, approaching them. Jon's shouts must have lured him in. "Who's talking about injustice in the Empire?"
"The prisoner refuses to obey my orders, General," the captain replied.
"The prisoner Jon Snow is not on the lists. And according to his story, he was unlucky enough to be found in the middle of an ambush for Jarl Ulfric and his men, General Tullius," the soldier interjected.
"Is that true?" Tullius asked, looking at Jon. "Explain this boy, but quickly!"
Jon briefly told the man everything, including that he had been sent by the Temple of Akatosh. He had the Amulet of Akatosh with him, the only thing that had not been taken from him.
General Tullius looked at Jon, then drew his dagger, walked over to him and cut the bonds binding his hands.
"No one will say that the Empire is unjustly sentencing innocent people to death. We will talk about this after I execute Ulfric Stormcloak. Hadvar, keep an eye on Jon Snow. Officer, you will come with me, we must see to the execution of the prisoners," General Tullius said.
"Yes, General," the officer and the soldier, who was called Hadvar, replied.
Jon stood next to Hadvar, watching as General Tullius approached the gagged and bound Jarl Ulfric.
“Ulfric Stormcloak. Some here in Helgen call you a hero. But a hero doesn't use a power like the Voice to murder his king and usurp his throne,” General Tullius said, and at the time Jon didn't know what exactly the Voice was.
Ulfric only grunted in response, which was understandable. Eventually they gagged him.
You started this war, plunged Skyrim into chaos, and now the Empire is going to put you down, and restore the peace,” General Tullius continued.
At that moment, a distant roar was heard from afar. For some reason, it reminded Jon of a dragon's roar, which was impossible. Dragons were extinct in this world, just like in Westeros, right?
“What was that?” Hadvar asked, and Jon could have asked a similar question.
"It's nothing. Carry on," said the general.
"Yes, General Tullius," said the female officer.
Then the General turned to the priestess who stood next to the towering figure of the executioner.
"Give them their last rites," said Tullius.
"As we commend your souls to Aetherius, blessings of the Eight Divines upon you, for you are the salt and earth of Nirn, our beloved...." the priestess was saying, but she was interrupted by one of the Stormcloaks.
"For the love of Talos, shut up and let's get this over with," said the rebel, approaching the executioner's stump.
"As you wish," replied the priestess coldly, not liking someone interrupting her last blessing.
"Come on, I haven't got all morning. My ancestors are smiling at me, Imperials. Can you say the same?" said the rebel as the female officer pushed him onto the stump and then the executioner with one swing of the axe chopped off his head.
"The next will be the rebel Ralof of Riverwood" said the female officer.
A roar rang out again, although now it seemed closer than before. Jon was really starting to worry about it. He really regretted getting into this situation, especially since he didn't even have a dagger on him.
"There it is again. Did you hear that?" Hadvar asked again.
"Sounds like a dragon" said Jon.
"Impossible, there are no dragons. No one has seen them for centuries, they all died at the hands of brave dragon slayers" replied Hadvar, although his face was worried.
"I said, next prisoner!" the female officer said, and Ralof, smiling, walked over to the executioner's block. He laid her down on it, and Jon saw the executioner raise his axe to cut off his head, though it never came.
Then a huge dragon like Balerion the Black Dread appeared, who sat on a round, low tower, and Jon remembered the rest as if in a dream.
Ned Stark's son remembered the frantic escape with Hadvar from the dragonfire, entering the keep at Helgen, fighting the Stormcloaks, escaping through the caves, fighting the fucking spiders (spiders were never supposed to be that big), sneaking past the sleeping bear, and finally emerging from the cave as a dragon that could rival Balerion the Black Dread in size flew overhead. Hadvar led him to Riverwood, where his uncle Alvor, the local blacksmith, lived.
There they gained his aid, and Alvor asked Jon to go to Whiterun and ask Jarl Balgruuf the Greater to send soldiers to the village if the dragon decided to return and attack Riverwood. Jon agreed, not wanting to leave innocent people at the mercy of the dragon, and though Hadvar urged him to go to Solitude later and join the Imperial Legion.
Not that Jon was particularly keen on that after recent events. There was no mention of General Tullius and Jarl Ulfric being lucky enough to survive the dragon's attack, but as Hadvar had said, if they had, so had they, and if Ulfric lived, the war in Skyrim would flare up again. Alvar and his family fed him and gave him some supplies for the journey.
Before he set off for Whiterun, however, he briefly stopped by the Riverwood Trader, a local shop that Alvar had mentioned was run by a man from Cyrodiil named Lucan Valerius and was assisted by his sister Camilla Valerius. Jon decided to sell some of his Helgen loot there. Just as he entered, he witnessed the siblings arguing.
"Well one of us has to do something!" Camilla said, and Jon had to admit she was quite the beauty with her long, dark hair and warm, brown eyes and pretty face, not to mention her shapely body and nice curves hugged by her simple, brown dress.
"I said no! No adventures, no theatrics, no thief-chasing!" replied her brother Lucan, a man with a weathered face and closely cropped hair, dressed like a mid-level merchant.
"Well what are you going to do then, huh? Let's hear it!" Camilla continued, and as Jon noticed, they hadn't noticed him enter the shop yet.
"We're done talking about this. Oh, a customer. Sorry you had to hear that." Said Lucan, who had finally noticed Jon. Camilla noticed him too and blushed slightly. Jon smiled, he had matured over the last four years, growing into quite a handsome man with a long, stern face, dark brown hair that looked black in the dim light, and dark purple eyes that often looked black. Not to mention that his form had been filled out thanks to his regular training with Marcus and the work he did for the Temple of Akatosh.
"Nothing happened" Jon replied, walking over to the counter. "I just came to sell a few things before I go to Whiterun. I have to warn Jarl Balgruuf about the dragon threat," he said. He took out a few things he had acquired in Helgen, including vials of bloody spider venom. Hadvar had told him that the alchemists and merchants would give a tidy sum of septims for it. And he could earn extra gold, considering he lost the gold from High Priest Aulus.
"A dragon?! I saw a dragon flying towards Bleak Falls Barrow," Camilla said, walking closer. Jon could appreciate Lucan's sister's beauty even more from up close.
Lucan snorted, as if the dragon meant nothing to him.
"What the hell, dragons, I lost my golden claw to that bloody thief. I'd give anything for someone to go after that thief and get my golden claw back. I'll pay gold to get it back!" he said, then took the things from Jon and gave him septims in exchange. He made about forty septims on that. Not bad.
"Hmm, I can take care of that as soon as I warn the Jarl about the dragon threat, Lucan," Jon said after a moment's thought. He could use the money and Lucan probably wouldn't be stingy with it. Apparently he really wanted to get back the stolen Golden Claw.
"I'd be much obliged, lad. I've got some money from my last shipment. It's yours if you bring me the claw. If you're going after those thieves, you should head to Bleak Falls Barrow, it's west of Riverwood. You can't miss it because you can see it from a distance," Lucan said.
"Is it about those ruins up there? I saw them from a distance," Jon said.
"That's it, boy. Retrieve the Golden Claw and I'll reward you well," Lucan replied.
"I'll see what I can do, but I'm not promising anything," Jon said, and said goodbye to Lucan.
Before he left, Camilla accosted him. She really was quite a beauty.
"My brother is so worried about that damned Golden Claw that he's forgotten his manners. He didn't ask your name," Camilla said, smiling at Jon. "I'm Camilla Valerius and this is my brother Lucan Valerius."
"Jon. Jon Snow, Lady Camilla," Jon replied, and kissed Camilla's hand as Sansa had taught him.
He noticed Camilla blush at the gesture. It made her look even prettier.
"It's nice to meet you, Jon Snow," Camilla said.
“And you too, Lady Camilla,” Jon replied, and left the shop.
Jon remembered how he had reached Whiterun without any major problems (he had helped a few warriors fight a giant along the way. He remembered from Maester Luwin’s lessons that giants still lived in the lands beyond the Wall. The warriors introduced themselves as members of a group known as the Companions, known throughout Skyrim. Jon’s attention was drawn to one of its members, a woman named Aela the Huntress, a red-haired, warrior beauty. He would consider joining the Companions), and he had stopped at Dragonsreach where he had met Jarl Balgruuf the Greater himself and his housecarl Irileth, who was certainly one of the Dunmer.
The Jarl’s brother and children were also there, as well as his steward, and the warriors and other courtiers. The Jarl thanked him for the news of the dragon, then went with him to Farengar Secret-Fire, his court wizard, for he had a task for Jon and Farengar had discussed the details – namely, he would bring back an ancient stone tablet from the ancient ruins.
Jon immediately asked what it had to do with dragons, which the wizard appreciated, because he had previously considered him an ordinary mercenary. It turned out that the stone tablet was located in Bleak Falls Barrow and was called Dragonstone. For Jon, this was quite a coincidence, because after all, the thief with Lucan's golden claw was also hiding there. He could kill two birds with one stone. Without wasting time, he set off to the ruins, where he had to fight outlaws, a fucking spider, and draugr (he almost screamed when he first met them, emerging from their graves).
He managed to recover the Golden Claw (by killing the thief, who almost ended up as a meal for the spider and who had no intention of giving him the claw) and obtain the Dragonstone, after which he set off for Whiterun, stopping by the Riverwood Trader on the way to return it to Lucan and collect the reward for it.
"I recovered your Golden Claw, Lucan," Jon said, placing the Golden Claw on the counter.
"You found it? Ha ha ha. There it is. Strange... it seems smaller than I remember. Funny thing, huh? I'm going to put this back where it belongs. I'll never forget this. You've done a great thing for me and my sister." Lucan said happily, handing Jon a purse of money.
Jon ignored the mention that the golden claw served as a key to open the gates in the ruins. Some things were better left unsaid, especially when he came across a wall with some ancient words and when he looked at them, one of them seeped into his mind. What surprised and terrified Jon was that he knew exactly what the word was. It sounded like FUS and meant Force. He didn't want to bother anyone with it, though, so he said goodbye to Lucan and left the shop when Camilla accosted him.
"I heard from my brother that you got the Golden Claw back. We are very grateful to you," the woman said and gave Jon a kiss on the cheek.
Jon blushed slightly.
"No problem, but I have to go to Whiterun to deliver something to the court mage. Goodbye, Lady Camilla," he said and said goodbye to the woman.
He quickly returned to Dragonsreach, where he delivered the Dragonstone and met a mysterious woman named Delphine, who was talking to Farengar.
"You see? The terminology is clearly First Era or even earlier. I'm convinced this is a copy of a much older text. Perhaps dating to just after the Dragon War. If so, I could use this to cross-reference the names with other later texts." Farengar said.
"Good. I'm glad you're making progress. My employers are anxious to have some tangible answers." The older woman with short blonde hair said.
"Oh, have no fear. The Jarl himself has finally taken an interest, so I'm now able to devote most of my time to this research." The wizard said.
"Time is running, Farengar, don't forget. This isn't some theoretical question. Dragons have come back." Said the woman.
"Yes, yes. Don't worry. Although the chance to see a living dragon up close would be tremendously valuable... Now, let me show you something else I found... very intriguing... I think your employers may be interested as well..." replied the wizard.
“You have a visitor.” Suddenly the mysterious woman said, noticing Jon.
"Hmm? Ah, yes, the Jarl's protege! Back from Bleak Falls Barrow? You didn't die, it seems.” Farengar replied.
Jon noticed the mysterious woman glance at him before she left. He had to ask Farengar who she was. He walked over to the wizard and handed him the Dragonstone.
“You have your tablet, it wasn't easy. Why didn't anyone tell me that in your ruins the dead not only rise from their graves but also attack the living,” Jon said.
“I forgot you're not from Skyrim. Draugrs are common in the ancient Nord ruins. Many of them aren't particularly dangerous but there are more dangerous enemies to be found there. However, I see you've handled this better than most of the men the Jarl sends. You're still alive and that's a success,” Farengar said.
“And who was that woman you were talking to?” Jon asked.
"Delphine, my... associate. She is interested in the knowledge of dragons," the wizard replied, but he said nothing more about her.
Then Jarl asked him to go with Irileth and the guards and help stop a dragon that was attacking one of the Whiterun guardhouses. Jon agreed, wanting to help kill the dragon, although he did not know how to kill it. Dragons were hard to kill, which he knew from history, but he decided to take it. Which led to him killing the dragon, absorbing its soul and teaching it a word he had learned earlier, which allowed him to use some strange kind of magic thanks to which he could throw his enemies back by shouting the word.
Jon smiled. Yes, he certainly could not complain about boredom, sometimes he even wanted some peace. And tomorrow he was going to High Hrothgar to meet with the Greybeards, he gathered enough funds to buy himself a horse and go there. Lydia would stay in Whiterun. Every sword would come in handy here in the face of the dragon threat.
Jon got up from his chair and went upstairs to get some sleep before tomorrow. He entered the bedroom where Lydia was lying naked on his bed, smiling at him flirtatiously.
"I thought, my sweet Thane, that since you're going to the Greybeards alone tomorrow I'd give you a night of passion to give you the strength for tomorrow's challenges. What do you think?" Lydia asked, swinging his legs.
"I like that idea very much, Lydia," Jon said and quickly joined his warrior. Someone wouldn't be sleeping well tonight with their frolics.