"Hey you, you're finally awake."
Glynda the Good Witch, dressed only in her traveling attire of khaki trousers and vest with a pale blue shirt and knee high brown leather boots, her cloak had been confiscated and was now worn by a female legionary. Found herself listening to her fellow Nords bicker about banal politics whilst they were all bound, the disgraced Jarl was even gagged, and heading to the nearest Imperial outpost. She tried to listen, she really did, but she couldn't stop herself from thinking abut how she ended up in this position.
She had been a Master Wizard for the Mages Guild with the prospect of being the Arch-Mage in another four years. At least until a certain Altmer shrew who only got in because she was part of the Aldmeri Dominion accused her of sleeping and bribing into her position! Because of course the lowborn Nord girl from Bruma couldn't have possibly accomplished the rank she coveted in only ten years when she herself, an Altmer, was still stuck at the rank of evoker after "practicing" magic for over two hundred years.
"If I ever see that harpy again I'll stab her in the eye." Glynda thought for a moment. "Oh, wait I already have. Yes, I remember now, at the last Guild meeting I had to much to drink and stabbed her after she disrespected Talos, I had forgotten that over the last few weeks."
Glynda was broken out of her memories by the sight of the Fort Town they were approaching. They passed by General Tulius and some Thalmor as theiy entered the town, Helgen if she heard correctly. After that they were taken to processing, where the horse thief was shot down and she was unjustly condemned to the Headsman's axe. As Glynda laid her head on the freshly blooded chopping block and waited for her end, something terrifying and improbably happened. Alduin the World Eater, had returned to Tamriel, and summarily destroyed the town of Helgen as well as set Glynda and the Stormcloaks free.
After running and jumping her way through Helgen, with her hands still bound, Glynda found herself panting in the Helen Keep. She was by no means unathletic, but having studied magic since she was twelve she wasn't built for such rigorous physical activity as running through a burning town. After the rebel from earlier, Ralof was his name, freed her they made their way through the Fort fighting the various Legionaries all the way to the Torture Chamber. The fight was relatively easy, as there was Stormcloaks already fighting there when they arrived. After the fight they looted the cells and pseudo office for all it was worth, as they were going past the cells, Glynda noticed one was still occupied, by a live Nord as his chest was rising and falling, she approached and unlocked the cell to get a better look at the Nord.
He was younger than her by a few years with his blonde hair tied up in a sort of Warriors Wolf tail and the makings of a beard growing upon his jaw. He wore the armor of the Blades and carried an Akaviri Katana on his waist with a Claymore holstered in a metal sheath upon his back, which is strange since the Thalmor would have simple executed him on sight. Upon closer inspection the Nords armor showed clear signs of battle damage and wear-and-tear. He clearly but up quite the fight with whoever put him in this cage, but that begs the question of why they left his weapons inside the cage with him. Well, there was only one way to get that answer.
Glynda shook him gently. "Wake up, are you alright?"
The Nord opened his cerulean eyes and uttered two simple words. "Not again."
/0\
Jaune watched the flying form of the massive black dragon with a look of annoyance and the growing pain of an oncoming head ache.
"Why do I feel like dragons are going to be a recurring thing?"
"Did you say something?" Glynda inquired.
"No, it's nothing." Jaune sighed. "You said we were in Skyrim?"
"Yes, we just left Helgen, a town under Imperial control near Cyrodiil's border." Ralof answered. "You were the armor of the Blades, you are a long way from Cyrodiil my friend."
"And mighty skilled to evade the Thalmor whilst bearing the signature armor and weapons of the Blades, since they've marked your order for death." Glynda chimed in.
"Thalmor? Marked for death?" Jaune's face paled with growing suspicion. "What year is it?"
"I'm sorry?"
"What year is it!"
"It's the 201st of the 4th Era."
Jaune slumps onto a rock, despondent. "Tell me. Did Martin Septim live? Did Emera- the Hero of Kvatch?"
"No. Martin Septim sacrificed himself to banish Mehrunes Dagon, and the Hero of Kvatch's fate is unknown." Glynda answered before gaining a curious look. "Wait, you have no knowledge of the Thalmor, nor there vendetta against your order, and you speak as if you knew the Hero of Kvatch and Emperor Septim personally." Her eyes widen. "Y-you were there, weren't you?" Jaune nods his head. "This… this is incredible! You've traveled through time!"
"And space." Jaune added.
Glynda is caught off-guard. "I'm… I'm sorry?"
Jaune gains a small, sad, smile. "I'm not originally from Tamriel."
"L-like the ancient Dwemer!" Glynda closes into Jaune's personal bubble. "You must tell me how you've done this!"
"I die."
Glynda's sails are not only stripped of wind, but are doused in oil and lit into roaring infernos. "W-what?"
"I die." Jaune replied with the same sad, small smile. "The first time was when I was fighting a Witch and a Dragon on top of a tower, and apparently the second was when Mehrunes Dagon threw me through the walls of the Temple of One."
"I… I'm sorry."
"Don't be, you didn't cause it." Jaune sighs as he stands. "Now if what you say is true about these Thalmors supposed vendetta against the Blades, then I'll need some new clothes." Jaune suddenly sniffs and blanches. "And a bath."
"There's a hamlet nearby by the name of Riverwood, my sister and her husband live there." Ralof piped up.
"Well then, lets get going!" Jaune said, ushering the group forward in search of clothes and a bath.
After a short jaunt they find themselves in Riverwood, a tiny hamlet which consisted of four straw roofed shacks, with an equal number of businesses. After a short conversation with a very confused Gerdur, and a much needed bath for both Jaune and Glynda, separate of course, they headed off for the Riverwood Trader for the supplies they would need to live in the near barren frozen waste that was Skyrim. When they arrived at the trader they found the proprietor and his sister arguing.
"They seem to be in the middle of something, let's leave them to it, Jaune… Jaune?" Glynda looked up to see Jaune offering their services to the Merchant, much to his chagrin and his sisters delight, she sighed before speaking up. "Jaune, we still need supplies, or did you forget?"
Jaune look at Glynda with a shocked and wide eyed expression, before rubbing the back of his head with an adorable look on his face. "Sorry, Glynda."
Glynda smiled as she sighed, he was just to cute to stay mad at. "Don't be, it's an admirable quality to have, just don't let it come at your expense."
Jaune beamed. "Okay, I promise!"
Glynda bought their needed supplies whilst Jaune was whisked upstairs by the much to eager Camilla.
Glynda was not amused. "She has two men fawning for a simple gaze from her, and yet she looks ready to kneel in front of her brother should Jaune ask her to."
Glynda used the funds she saved up from her travels, alongside the funds from selling Jaune's old armor and the down payment they received from Lucan, to procure the necessary traveling supplies, two person tent, satchels, dried rations, cloaks and hoods, etc., alongside some warmer attire for herself as well, though it truly killed her to pass upon the gorgeous purple dress Lucan had in stock.
Instead she chose a traveling consisting of a hemp chemise, that ended around her mid, with dark colored breeches and doublet with removable sleeves and black knee high leather boots with a tattered, faded purple shawl to finish off her attire.
"Hemp and wool! Oh, where are the days I was adorned in silks and velvet!" Glynda thought in dismay, though her years of political maneuvering made it so her face betrayed none of her thoughts.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of surprisingly quite footfalls descending the staircase, looking up she saw a newly dressed Jaune.
He wore a slate blue long-sleeved tunic over brown trousers tucked into knee length flapped moccasins with his signature brown leather fingerless gloves and a dark green almost black long coat. He had his strange metal sheath attached to a leather pouched baldric with one of the satchels Glynda bought attached to it.
Jaune beamed at Glynda. "So, how do I look?"
"G-good!" Glynda clears her throat. "Um, good, you look good." She looked away blushing slightly. "Stupid sexy cute Jaune!"
The two exit the general store followed by Camilla, much to Glynda's annoyance, where she lead them to the bridge exiting the hamlet.
As Camilla walked back to the Riverwood Trader, Jaune turned to Glynda. "I'll deal with this missing claw while you go warn the Jarl, I'll meet you in Whiterun when I'm done."
"That sounds reasonable." Glynda agreed. "I shall see you in Whiterun."
with their plan in motion, Jaune turned left to scale the mountain whilst Glynda turned right and walked down the road to Whiterun.
-{O}-
As Glynda walked along the paved road, missing her mare terribly, she was shocked at the sight of a giant attacking a farm, with a team of Nord warriors fighting it off. Glynda conjured her familiar, a spectral wolf named fluffy, she was twelve when she named her, shut up, and charged alongside it hurling flames at the giant all the while. After the ebon haired Nord in steel armor wielding a great sword struck the killing blow, a red headed Nord in, well armor that seem more suited for attracting men than protecting her from harm, approached her.
"You handle yourself well. You could make for a decent Shield-Sister, if you learned how to fight properly that is."
Glynda ignored the slight. "What is a Shield-Sister?"
"An outsider, eh? Never heard of the Companions?" She continues at Glyndas nod. "We're an order of warriors. We are brothers and sisters in honor. And we show up to solve problems if the coin is good enough."
"Normally I'd have said this was a waste of time, but since I haven't a Septim to my name." Glynda thought before replying. "Could I join your… order?"
"Not for me to say. You'll have to talk to Kadlak Whitemane up in Jorrvasker. The old man's got a good sense for people. He can look in your eyes and tell your worth. If you go to him, good luck."
The two woman part ways as Glynda continues on her way to warn the Jarl about Helgen. After persuading the guards to let her through she made her way straight to Dragonsreach where after another run in with an armed guard, she was allowed to inform the Jarl of Helgens fate. She was then escorted to the Court Wizard, Farengar, where he informed her that he needed something known as a Dragonstone… that resided in Bleak Falls Barrow.
"Oh, for fucks sake!"
-{O}-
Glynda trudged her way through snow and dead bandits, Drauger, Skeevers, and a troll of all things!, that made the aftermath of Jaunes trek through the barrow. After the ten minute jaunt through the crypt, Glynda found herself arriving at the Inner Sanctum just in time to see Jaune fighting a Dread Lord with a shield she didn't remember ever seeing, Jaune parried a wild swing from the Dread Lord's axe, not only disarming it of the weapon, but the arm itself, before taking it's head. Glynda made close enough to hear Jaune mumble.
"It's always easier when it's not actually people."
"What's easier?"
Jaune swung at Glynda's neck, stopping his blade uncomfortably close. "First off, please don't do that again. And I was talking about killing." Jaune wondered over to the Dread Lords tomb and sat down. "During the Oblivion Crises, as you all call it now, we manly fought Deadra and monsters, but we also fought the Mythic Dawn, it wasn't the first time I've had to kill a person, but I'll never get use to it." Jaune wipes the sorrowful looks off his face as he looks up to Glynda. "Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to met up in Whiterun."
"In a twist of fate it seems this crypt has something the Jarl's Court Wizard needs, something called a Dragonstone, it must be around here somewhere…" Glynda stopped talking as she felt a sudden draw towards the strange wall with glowing runes.
As Glynda stood in front of the wall in a daze, Jaune hurried over and laid a worried hand on her shoulder. "Glyn is everything all ri-"
Jaune's words were halted as his Aura unconsciously activated as he laid his hand upon Glynda's shoulder, feeling both a familiar and strange power flow into him. After a moment the daze was lifted, leaving two confused blondes. Deciding to question the event when they weren't in a zombie filled crypt, the two blondes made their way out of the crypt and back to Farengar. After they dropped off the stone, the Jarl escorted them to a trembling and exhausted Guard who informed them that a dragon had attacked the Southern Watchtower. Being the closes thing to experts on dragons that they had, Jaune and Glynda were asked to go with the Guards and the Jarl's Housecarl to investigate these claims of dragons.
The search party arrived at the destroyed and seemingly abandoned tower, after a short search for survivors, they were attacked by the dragon that destroyed the tower, though it wasn't the black dragon that destroyed Helgen.
The party leaped into action, with Jaune and the guards firing volley of arrows at the overgrown fire breathing lizard, whilst Glynda and Irileth blasted it with their magics. The dragon, infuriated that these pest would dare try and harm it, swooped down to devour one of the guards whole. Jaune took this opportunity to slash into it's wing, grounding it. The guards and Jaune wasted no time and rushed the downed beast, but the beast was far from helpless.
Jaune stood in front of the mythical beast, tanking its breath, slashing at every opportunity. Eventually he slash and exposed its heart.
Jaune looked to Glynda, whilst forcing the wound open with both of his hands. "The heart Glynda, the heart!"
Glynda blasted a magical shard of ice into the foul creatures heart, causing it to jerk up and scream.
"Dovakin, no!"
The dragon was felled, but before they could celebrate, the dragons essence flew off into Glynda, leaving nothing but bones and bits of scales. The guards were stunned, until one of them found their voice.
"She's the Dragonborn! Just like Tiber Septim!"
"What are you on about?" Irileth questioned. "I've been all over Tamriel and have never once heard of such a thing."
"Of course you wouldn't have, it's a Nord legend." The guard explained. "The legend says that the old Nords learned to absorb the souls of Dragons from Akatosh himself." The guard looks to Glynda. "It's said that the Dragonborn could shout naturally like the dragons, you should try it."
Glynda felt that the guards words were just superstition, but humored him all the same, and tried to "shout". But when she tried to shout, she felt a burning chill, like the frigged winds of the tallest mountain. And let out a ferocious Fus!
Only to be launched into some rubble from the battle.
"Glynda!"
-{O}-
When Glynda awoke from her unintended nap, the first thing to greet her return to consensus was Jaune, still covered in the dragons blood, and the most warm and comforting feeling that no silk nor velvet could ever beat.
When Jaune noticed that Glynda was awake once more, his face lit up. "Oh, thank Oum you're okay." He pulled her into a gentle bear hug, before pulling her out into arms length. "If you ever do something like that again I'll beat you to death!" Before hugging her once more. "But I'm so glad you're alive!"
Their reunion was interrupted by thunderous voices calling for the Dovakin.
"The Greybeards!" A guard gasped.
Irileth looked to Glynda and Jaune. "You two should go and inform the Jarl about the dragon, we'll stay here."
Jaune and Glynda nodded before getting up and walking back to Whiterun to inform the Jarl.
Sorry for the wait, again. But between family bullshit, getting ideas for and working on other stories, and this one being surprisingly difficult to write, I've been a little busy. I think I'll focus on this one, until I get an idea that forces me to at least write it down, as the next chapter for my reaction story is causing me to restart my laptop.