"To the far north of Middle-Earth resides a providence of people. They are the Nords of Rim of the Sky, and within Skyrim, there is a sect of warriors who are revered as dragon slayers: they are called Dragonborn. Rarely does one of the Nordic folk leave the Cape of Forochel; however, one has now traveled south to Bree, and the whispers of an old wizard garbed in grey to an exiled dwarven king have caught her attention. Can she talk her way into joining the Company? And does she know more about the terrible calamity that is Smaug than she is letting on?"
As stated, this is a Skyrim/Hobbit cross-over. Now, usually I extremely dislike cross-overs because the majority of the stories make no sense what-so-ever. However, I hope I have intertwined these two universes in a way that makes sense, is somewhat realistic, and is enjoyable. To try and properly interpreted the Elder Scrolls world into Middle-Earth, I basically formed Tamriel into the shape of Forochel. Hopefully this doesn't anger many of you, but this was the best way I could think of doing things . Lastly, this is mostly a FilixOC story, but there will be a second OC introduced displaying some KilixOC lovens~ Tell me your thoughts!
EDIT: Alrighty, change of plans! So I found better maps of the world of Middle Earth and I've had to rearrange as to where Skyrim would fit. I have decided to include all of Tamriel, not just Skyrim, that way more of the Elder Scrollsverse will be incorporated and it will keep things more authentic. Also, that way when Thyra talks about Argonians and Kahjit, I can keep their race origins authentic as well instead of bullshitting it, which I would feel is a ripoff for you readers and fans of both worlds. The link for the Middle Earth World Map I am going off of is posted in my profile so go and take a look to get a feel of where Thyra has traveled from. Tamriel is placed North of the continent between Helcaraxe and Angband.
Chapter One
From the southern Blackmarsh city of Lilmoth it had taken just shy of fourteen months by horseback and ship to make it this far; a muddy and seemingly unsanitary town named Bree. It was a place which drastically reminded me of Riften; a dirty, thief ridden capital of Skyrim. At least here the stench of death and decay was absent though. That thought made me smirk, however, as the memories of visiting that very city filtered into my mind. This was simply a rest stop, however; I held no hope that anyone in this place would have the information I had been searching for. No one seemed to have what I sought. Either that or no one was willing to speak up, no matter how smooth my tongue was.
Already it had been three months since I entered this new land with Haldis, and I had never imagined this journey would take me so far from Skyrim; from Tamriel. Knowing how far from home I was stirred together the numerous emotions within me. I was no stranger to wandering the wilds and foreign lands, far from home and out on my own, adventuring and seeking out my fate with only my steed to share my excitement and company with. True, my leaving for this journey took me out of Skyrim's borders for the first time, but even Cyrodiil and Blackmarsh had a sense of familiarity. This land though, it had me on constant edge the first month since I had arrived. This was the first time I was truly away from everything I knew.
The wind stirred the budding spring flowers into a dance as it skimmed over the ground and through the trees, leaving behind a soft melody that flittered in the air. It was early in the month of First Seed and the winter snow was still melting, but it was unusual to feel such a sense of calm and warmth with the wind against my skin. The wind still held that northern chill, but the climate was warmer –like midsummer nights in Whiterun, my home. When first setting off, I had been prepared to cover myself in more layers, expecting the weather to be just as cold and untamed as I was used to, but even daring to think of wearing more atop my dark tawny hide armor top and grieves made me sweat.
None of that mattered at the moment, however, as both Haldis and I welcomed the sight of a tavern as it meant we could take a good long rest from our travels. Even with my heavily armored appearance and the attention it would gain from those unused to the sight of an armed woman, just the thought of a cushioned seat and a drink had me pushing away any concerns I normally might have held being in such unfamiliar territory.
Sliding from the saddle of my steed to the ground, my feet were overwhelmed by a tingling sensation from inside my boots as the blood began to flow, once again unrestricted. Shaking out the feeling, I took Haldis's reigns and led her to the water trough, my hand running along the dark brown fur as she lowered her head for a drink. "Drem, Haldis, geinmaar fen daal volaan." Peace, I will return soon. I whispered into her ear, which slapped me away in annoyance. I only chuckled as I left the mare to her own devices, entering the Prancing Pony. Immediately upon opening the door I was greeted with the heat of hearth and bodies, along with drunken boisterous laughter and cheers. Pulling down the hood which covered my face, I shook my head to free my curled, chest-length, dark licorice-black hair from its previous confines.
Taking a seat in a far corner and grabbing the attention of a barmaid, I ordered milk, bread, and soup, settling myself in for a somewhat decent meal. It was instinctual to grab for the large war axe that was usually strapped to my back, ready to relieve myself of it as I relaxed, but I paused in my motion as I recalled having left it, along with the rest of my inventory, with Haldis. Sighing, I kicked my feet up to rest on the empty chair across the table from me. For as long as I had been travelling it was strange to not have the weight of my battle axe on my back. It wasn't like I was unprepared and unarmed –I had the small amount of magic I knew to keep me safe and my dagger strapped to my thigh- but it was nothing like having your weapon at your side. At least Haldis would keep my items safe.
Waiting for my meal, I had almost fallen asleep in my seat, my hands clasped behind my head like a cradle, until the barmaid returned, placing my meal before me with a smile. "You're not from around here are you?" The young woman asked, her long dirty-blonde hair falling over her shoulders in loose waves. She appeared to be rather young, twenty or so years old, at least that's the best guess I had for a human; her face was round and had a simple beauty to her features, large hazel-green doe eyes staring at me with friendly curiosity.
Nodding, my light, plum-painted lips curled into a smile as well as I sat up straight. "Haha, well what gave me away?" I joked, pushing a loose curl behind my ear.
"Well it's not very often you see a woman come in here as well armored as you are now. And I have never seen tattoos such as yours!" She murmured in awe, leaning forward to get a slightly better look at the dark, plum colored lines that ran over my face and checkered my brow.
"They're markings that warriors from my homeland bear. It's common to see others wearing tattoos similar to this back where I'm from." I explained, picking up the loaf of bread and breaking it in half before dipping it into the watery soup and taking a bite. Mmm, nothing like half-stale bread to satiate a starving Nord stomach.
"I didn't dare ask out right for fear of being rude, but where is it you are from? I don't recognize your accent." I watched the girl take the seat across from me, her hands clasped together in excitement as she eagerly leaned in towards me, waiting to hear what I had to say. She must have noticed my amused expression though, because she quickly moved to correct herself, sitting up straight and folding out the wrinkles of her dress. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. You must be tired from your journey. It's just, we rarely have outsiders rest here, and it gets boring and tedious with the usual rabble."
The girl ducked her head down in embarrassment, but my lips quirked up into a smile, my head shaking in an attempt to wordlessly shoo away her uncertainty. "No, no, I don't mind you asking at all. I come from the far north; the continent Tamriel; the province of Skyrim."
I watched as the girl's figure grew rigid, her eyes slightly wide in dismay. "You're a nord? I've heard tales of your people; dragon hunters from the north. Legends say you can slay even the most powerful of dragons with just a few spoken words."
My laugh was one of a friendly nature –not mocking- but the barmaid looked on at me in confusion. Lifting my glass to take a gulp of my drink, I smiled politely at the naïve girl. Why was it that no one could get the stories straight? Nords weren't that secretive of a people. "If only it were that easy to slay a dragon! But only a small group of trained warriors can even Thu'um: they are the Dragonborn, and not every nord holds the capacity to be one." I explained casually, my stomach filled and making me grow lethargic.
"Thu'um? Is that what you call your magic?"
"The dragon-slaying magic, yes."
Falling into silence, I peeked over at the maiden and recognized the look of one being deep in a daydream; however, she was quickly snapped out of it as a man, bearded and greying, yelled over to her. "Mara, you're supposed to be serving the customers, not letting their pints go dry! Get back to work, daft girl!"
Instantaneously the young woman was on her feet, swiftly collecting my used dishes as she tried to hide the growing red embarrassment across her cheeks. "Sorry to have bothered you, Miss. Your story was most enticing. Everyone seems to be talking of dragons lately." She sighed wistfully, probably imagining up some fantasy in her mind.
Turning to leave and return to her work, I quickly caught her arm, her words registering in my mind as my brow scrunched in thought. "There are others speaking about dragons? Who would those people be, exactly?" Could this be the lead I was searching for? It wasn't common for the presence of a dragon to go unnoticed, but after having left home, no one who was willing to talk seemed to know of any dragon.
"The dwarf over there talking to the man in grey robes –I think he's a wizard of some sort- I heard them whispering about a mountain and a dragon who took it as its home centuries or so ago." Mara spoke casually; conspicuously pointing over to the men she was referring to.
Following her direction, I took notice of the two tucked away into a corner. And indeed there was a dwarf; that bit of knowledge pumping relief-fueled adrenaline through me. Dwarves were a good sign, a very good sign, especially if said dwarf was above ground and far from any mountain. Well, it was at least good for me. Standing and thanking the girl for her company, I slowly eased my way to the bar, ordering two pints before making my way over to their table. My presence was easily noticed and all conversation ceased between the two, the dwarf glaring suspiciously at me while the older man watched me with open curiosity.
Setting the two mugs down in front of them, I smiled charmingly, pulling a chair over from another table and sitting myself on it backwards. "Hello there good sirs, I hope you are both having a fine evening." I greeted casually, not having an ounce of formality in my body.
The dwarf wasn't taken in by my cheery charm however, and pushed the pint away from him, probably suspecting me of having done something to tamper with it. "Is there something in which we can aide you with, or do you have a habit of bothering unsuspecting strangers?"
His snarky tone of voice only made my smile grow –mostly out of amusement- but before I could speak, the man, or wizard I should say, tried to make up for his comrade's rudeness. "Our evening has been uneventful for the most part, but productive in the end. And what of yours?"
Turning to face the wizard, my smile slowly fade, my expression turning sly, letting the men know I knew something I maybe should not be aware of. "Long, very long; I've been travelling south for a long time now, and you are the first I've come across who are even knowledgeable of what I'm searching for."
The shift in the atmosphere was subtle, but I easily recognized it; they were wary of me, and dare I say the dwarf was ready to attack me if he felt it necessary. It was the wizard who spoke next, however, his words chosen carefully and his eyes watching my reaction closely. "And what is it that you think we are knowledgeable of? We are only two old friends catching up over drinks."
Smirking, a dark brow rose in questioning disbelief, wordlessly asking if he thought I would in all seriousness believe that tale. "If you truly wish to keep your discussions private, don't talk in front of the barmaid; they have ears like a barn owl and have a love for gossip." After watching me for a moment, the wizard smiled grimly before nodding. With that I glanced over at the dwarf, my elbows resting on the back of my chair as I intertwined my fingers and rest my chin on them. "So I hear you have a dragon problem."
Apparently my whimsical tone of voice did not go appreciated by the dwarf seeing as he slammed his fist against the table top, the drinks which laid on its surface sloshing and spilling over slightly. "What interest could a woman have with something as evil as a dragon?" He growled, eyes glaring at me; sizing me up.
Taking in a breath, I decided maybe it was best to start this entire conversation over. "Forgive me, I never introduced myself: I am Thyra Gray-Mane. I've travelled south from Skyrim in search of word of the dragon Smaug. If you know anything about it, I would greatly appreciate your knowledge."
"Why would a nord leave Tamriel in search for word of Smaug? And what interest is it to you?" Seemingly having collected himself, Dwarf continued to watch me with suspicion.
"What other kind of interest would a Dragonborn have in a dragon?" I pointed out, catching myself before my eyes could roll sardonically. Don't want to be too rude now.
"And the Dragonborn sent a woman out to battle a dragon by herself?" Dwarf said.
"It's more of a personal quest for honor and glory than an assignment given by my superiors. We nords are all about that you see." I retorted.
We each held the other's gaze, neither of us daring to break away. I wasn't sure if this was some kind of dwarven test of some sort, but I would not be the first to break away. To my surprise, though, the wizard spoke up, breaking apart our little contest. "The prize you seek lies west of the Misty Mountains, in the abandoned dwarven kingdom of Erebor."
The both of us turned to gaze at the older man in surprise, though the dwarf's expression quickly turned to an angry scowl. "Gandalf, this is no business of an outsider's. Erebor and all that lies within it belong to my kin!"
Glancing over at the stout male, my eyes bounced between the two comrades curiously. Was the dwarf worried I'd steal his gold? "My interest solely lies in the dragon, not whatever treasure you may have hidden away." I told them in hopes of reassuring their fears of me stealing from their plunder so they would tell me all they knew.
Gandalf and the dwarf were silent, staring at each other, though it seemed as if they were still holding conversation. It was the smile from the grey wizard that ended the stand-off. "It seems fortune is smiling upon you, Thorin son of Thrain." Turning to me, I gave Gandalf a curious look before he laid out his proposal. "My lady, you are a capable warrior I can assume. We could both benefit from what I propose: Thorin is about to gather a company of dwarves to retake The Lonely Mountain. If you were to accompany us, we could aid each other in slaying this beast."
Thorin was obviously against the idea, not hesitating to point out flaws within the wizard's plans. "That is if Smaug even still lies within Erebor. He has not been seen for over sixty years. For all we know my homeland could be lying unprotected for any to take."
Yes, because a dragon, having traveled a long distance to plunder your home and your gold, would just decide to up and leave because he no longer cares for his prize. If he has kept to himself, perhaps he decided to fall into a sleep. If that were the case, then this would be the best time to attack… Seeing as Gandalf was the one to purpose this alliance, it was him I turned to face. "If there is still a chance Smaug is in your mountain, then I will travel with you." I nodded, my expression serious.
Gandalf seemed honestly glad that I had accepted, though Thorin could have at least pretended to smile. I wonder how quickly he might try to lose me in hopes that I will never even get to start to travel with him and his company. The thought quickly left my mind; however, as Gandalf took up the flask of ale I had brought over and held it out. Reluctantly taking hold of the one he had previously been drinking out of, Thorin held his cup up to the wizard's and I quickly swiped the remaining one that I had brought, my cup meeting theirs before we all took a hearty swig. The taste was strong and disgusting to me, having lost my taste for alcohol little more than four years ago, but I swallowed the drink anyways.
"To a safe journey ahead of us."
"To reclaiming Erebor."
"To the death of Smaug the Terrible!"
This… was definitely going to be an interesting journey.
AN: SO I totally had forgotten that the Tamriel Calendar was a bit different from our own, so Thyra will be referring to the months and days of the week as she is used to calling them. Which will be fun later, having the dwarves/Gandalf/Bilbo trying to teach her the "proper" names. Thankfully the calendar of Tamriel is close enough to our own that there aren't any problems translating one to another. The month of First Seed equivalates to March.