A Young Griff's Guide to Skyrim
An Elder Scrolls/Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice & Fire multi-crossover
…
Chapter 1: Rolling on a River
The River Rhoyne.
It was nearing midday as the sun's rays reflected off the waters of the Rhoyne. Various vessels cruised along the currents at varying speeds. One barge in particular had five occupants on the deck. Three were dressed in sparring armour, each armed with a blunted steel sword. The other two were dressed in simpler robes, observing the three armoured individuals clash weapons against each other.
Of the armoured men, the youngest of them was a lad of sixteen nearing seventeen summers with a head of hair dyed a soft deep blue. His facial features were pretty enough to almost seem girlish with dark blue almost purple eyes set in a determined expression as he held his training weapon in a two-handed grip. His two opponents were older than him. The largest and brawniest of the two was almost like a figurative stone wall in his sparring armour, holding his weapon in a calloused almost ham-sized fist and his face was almost homely but there was a rough and tumble handsomeness to it with a thick shaggy beard of red on his jaw. A wide grin was on the shaggy haired man's face as he parried strikes from the blue-haired lad.
The oldest of the three fighters was slimmer but still athletically strong and his hair was dyed the same way as the young boy's, but there were lines of chestnut red peeking through the forest of blue. His face was handsome but aged, with small lines creasing his face whether it be from stress or age, but he looked stern and unyielding as an oak tree.
The blue-haired lad struck hard with his training sword, the blunted blade bouncing off the shaggy man's own weapon. The lad reeled back from the force and stumbled back as his opponent swung swiftly.
"Keep your guard up! Up!" the eldest of the trio admonished the youngest. The young man braced himself as he attempted to block a strike from the red-haired man's weapon. With a loud clang, the blunted iron weapons clashed against each other, gritting against one another. The blue-haired lad tried to push his opponent back when the elder man came up behind him.
"Watch your flank!" The blunted tip from the older man's sword bounced against the young man's protected ribs, but it was still painful enough for him to yelp in surprise. The red-haired man then kicked the boy's legs out from under him and the boy fell to the wooden decking of the barge with a thump. The boy groaned in defeat, frustration and pain.
The older blue-haired man sighed despairingly and offered a hand to help the lad up. "How many times must I tell you, boy? Be mindful of your surroundings," he reminded him.
"I know, I know," the boy replied as he took the offered hand and was hauled up to his feet. "It's a little hard to focus on two things at once," he then said flippantly.
"In battle, whether it be a tourney or a war, you will be facing many things coming towards you," his teacher told him sternly. "You must keep your eyes open, to anticipate them," he said.
"I'll try to remember that, Lord Jon," the blue-haired boy nodded his head.
"I certainly hope that you do remember, Prince Aegon," Lord Jon said sternly before sighing and firmly laid a hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're doing well, all things considered. A few little pieces here and there need to be worked on, but you are doing well," he added kindly.
"And you and Rolly are good teachers," Prince Aegon said magnanimously. "I couldn't have asked for better," he stated with a smile.
The two spectators who had been watching spoke up. "And what are we, my prince?" the robed woman asked in a mock-offended voice with a warm smile on her lips.
Prince Aegon looked at her with a cheeky grin and replied, "I would not dare forget you, Septa Lemore. You and Haldon are excellent teachers too."
Septa Lemore smiled warmly and said, "Well, I'm glad of that, my prince. It's almost time for your lessons with me and Haldon, anyway, so perhaps you can learn something more than just hitting people with a weapon?" The humour in her voice was evident which made Prince Aegon laugh and nod at this.
Lord Jon looked at the young man and bade him to washed and changed for his lessons with Lemore and Haldon. Quickly bathing in the river and changing into a clean tunic, trousers and boots, Aegon then attended his lessons with Lemore and Haldon. It neared dusk when the lessons were done and Aegon sat out on deck, enjoying the last remaining hours of sunshine, reading a tome.
The book Aegon was reading was A History of the Seven Kingdoms. He had just gotten to the part that detailed Daeron the Young Dragon and his conquest of Dorne. Footsteps alerted the young prince, and he glanced behind him to see Septa Lemore walking up to him.
"What are you reading, my prince?"
"A book," came Aegon's glib response.
"One I gave you?" Lemore asked.
"Sadly, no. A boring read. History of the Seven Kingdoms," replied Aegon. "I've just gotten to the part of Daeron the Young Dragon and his conquest of Dorne," he said.
"Ah, him," Lemore's utterance was terse and dry which Aegon took note of. "Not too fond of him, I see," he remarked.
"Daeron made war on my people, trying to make them bend the knee. He is seldom celebrated in Dorne, except for the day of his passing," Lemore said.
"But he met with the Dornish under a banner of peace, and they betrayed him by murdering him and his retinue, didn't they?" Aegon pointed out.
Lemore nodded, conceding the point. "They did, but it was foolish in the first place for the Young Dragon to conquer Dorne. Dragons do not fare well in the desert."
"I suppose that's true, but I am half Dornish, am I not?" Aegon asked. "Would the Dornish not fight for me if I asked it of them?"
"They might. If only to avenge the death of Elia and your sister," Lemore said to him. "But they believe you to be dead," she then reminded Aegon.
"There is that," Aegon admitted reluctantly. "Did you know my mother and sister at all, Septa?" he then asked Lemore.
"I knew of them," Lemore corrected. "Almost all the Dornish knew of Princess Elia Martell, but I cannot say that I ever had the pleasure of knowing them personally," she said regretfully.
"I wish I had known them. I was only a babe in arms when I was taken away from Kings Landing," Aegon said morosely.
"Yes, it was tragic what happened to your mother and sister," Lemore said softly in agreement.
"Why didn't Varys see fit to have my mother and sister also sent to Essos with me?" Aegon suddenly asked looking at his teacher.
"I don't know if I am being honest," Lemore admitted sadly. "Perhaps because you being your father's heir, Elia and Rhaenys were in no immediate danger," she reasoned.
"But in Dorne, the eldest child, regardless if they're a daughter or a son, would inherit, wouldn't they?"
Lemore nodded at this and replied, "Yes. But the kingdoms north of Dorne do not actively practice that custom, fools that they are."
"What makes you say that?" Aegon enquired, now curious of Lemore's opinion on matters of succession.
The septa had a surprised look on her face and tried to backpedal. "I shouldn't say that," she muttered.
"No, no, please. I'd like to hear your opinion," Aegon urged with a kind smile.
Relenting to her student's curiosity, Lemore spoke earnestly. "How many men have risen ascended to lordship or even kingship because they were their father's first son and have been terrible rulers?" she postulated. "Who can say that a woman cannot do the job better?" she then said. "What of Rhaenyra Targaryen, or even her aunt Rhaenys the Queen-That-Never-Was?"
Aegon nodded thoughtfully at this and said, "Rhaenyra was named her father's heir from what I read of her, but her half-brother Aegon II was chosen to rule instead."
"And would you say that he was a good king?" Lemore countered.
Aegon thought about it for a moment and shook his head. "No. He wasn't. He was a drunkard most of the time and one of the weakest kings in history," he stated.
Lemore nodded at this and continued. "That he was. Rhaenyra could've been a better ruler if the more conservative of Westeros' lords had allowed it, yet they didn't," she explained.
"Rhaenyra was said to be proud and stubborn, and she never forgot a slight to her name," Aegon then pointed out. "Do you truly think she might've made a good ruler?" he asked Lemore.
"You may be right there, but neither of us were there to see either Rhaenyra or her half-brother and learn the depths of their character," Lemore replied. "To use my homeland as an example; Princess Nymeria of Ny Sar was cunning, skilled and wise. She survived dozens of assassination attempts, quelled two rebellions and threw back two invasions, one from Durran the Third of the Stormlands and the second by Greydon Gardener of the Reach. She was a great ruler and her eldest daughter by her first husband succeeded her in succession," she recounted.
"She was a very good ruler from what I read of her," Aegon agreed. "But even then, that was in my mother's homeland. The rest of Westeros would very rarely have a woman succeed her father," he pointed out.
"A foolish mindset that has held Westeros and the world back for too long," Lemore lamented. "The world is changing. One could argue that it began with Robert's Rebellion which started when your father Rhaegar ran off with Lyanna Stark," she said.
Aegon had a sour look on his face when Rhaegar's name was mentioned. "My father…" he muttered under his breath.
"You do not like your father very much, do you, my prince," Lemore remarked.
Aegon sighed and reluctantly replied, "I don't know whether I do or not. I don't know if there is any truth to either version of the story whether he kidnapped and raped Lyanna Stark or if she went with him willingly. All I know is that because of my father's actions, the Usurper crushed my family's dynasty and my mother and sister were murdered by the Mountain That Rides, Tywin Lannister's favourite attack dog."
"Indeed. But then you would never have met me, would you?" Lemore said playfully.
"I'm sure I would've survived somehow," Aegon said with a cheeky smile. "Nevertheless, I am grateful to have you in my life, Septa," he added sincerely.
"I am happy to hear that, my little prince," Lemore smiled warmly.
As Aegon prepared to open his mouth, a loud voice from the riverbank called out. "Ahoy there! Anyone aboard?"
"Who could that be?" Aegon asked as he looked at the riverbank to see a figure approaching them.
"I do not know. Perhaps a traveller in need of passage?" Lemore mused as she looked to see who it was approaching the barge.
Walking in a hop-skip manner was an odd-looking man. He wore finely tailored clothes that was dyed or painted in an odd manner; the right half of the doublet was coloured a purply plum colour while the left half of it was a shade of orange red. Intricate lace detailing was finely stitched into the fabric. The man's features looked equally odd; his hair and beard were well-groomed with the follicles coloured a silver-grey making him look old, yet his smooth facial skin indicated that he was youthful. His eyes were a pale grey almost completely white, making Aegon think that the man was blind, yet he seemed to see quite well given how sure his footing was. In one hand, the man was nibbling on a wedge of orange-yellow cheese, and he held in his other hand a wooden cane with a round polished crystal set in the head of it.
"Who are you, ser? State your business!" Aegon called out to the man, deciding to show a strong front to the stranger.
"Apologies, laddie, the name's Sheogorath! Lord of the Never-There! Might I come aboard? I've been walking a long time," the man hollered back.
"Who's there?" came Lord Jon's voice from the hold and striding up on deck was Lord Jon dressed in a sellsword's outfit. "Who are you, ser? Why are you bothering us at this hour?" he asked in his lordliest voice.
"Name's Sheogorath. I'm a travelling man, like yerself," the stranger replied with a toothy grin. "May I be allowed to board your fine vessel?" he requested.
Jon looked reluctant to let a stranger aboard, but reluctantly nodded. The gangplank was lowered and Sheogorath skipped aboard the ship's deck and smiled widely. "Thank ye, kindly. I've been travelling a long way and me feet are sore as can be," he said as he sat on some crates, rubbing his booted feet for emphasis.
"And where, may I ask, did you come from?" Jon asked tersely.
"Oh, hither and yon," Sheogorath said flippantly with a lazy smirk as he nibbled on his wedge of cheese, before offering it to the exiled lord. "Would ye like some? It's good."
Jon stared at the piece of hardened fermented dairy with a flat look. "Hm. No accounting for taste it seems," Sheogorath said casually before munching his cheese again.
"Might we offer you something other than cheese, ser?" Aegon offered to Sheogorath. "Perhaps some wine or ale to go with it?" he suggested helpfully.
"Ah, there's a thoughtful lad," Sheogorath praised. "Some wine would be very nice to accompany me cheese," he said graciously.
Aegon went below the hold and found a bottle of Arbor red and some cups before taking them back onto deck where he poured a modest of wine into a cup for everyone.
"Thank ye, laddie," Sheogorath thanked him with a smile. "Nice to see a young man with some manners. Most youngsters I come across aren't even half as polite as you," he said to Aegon before taking a large gulp of his wine.
"So, what can we do for you, Ser Sheogorath? Are you simply a traveller looking for passage?" Aegon asked their guest.
"Ye could say that," Sheogorath replied airily. "And I'm no knight. I'm a lord, a prince even, ye could say," he said cryptically.
"Truly?" Aegon looked sceptical at this claim, half-wondering if Sheogorath was mad or perhaps a little drunk.
"Oh, I'm not a lord or prince of these lands, but I am where I come from," Sheogorath replied.
"And where is it you come from?" Lord Jon asked plainly.
"A land from away from here. So far, you could sail all the oceans of this world and never reach it. At least not by boat," came Sheogorath's cryptic words.
"Would you tell us the name of your land?" Septa Lemore asked.
"My land is known by many names; Nirn, Mundus, Aetherium, Oblivion and others besides. The particular corner of land I come from is called the Shivering Isles."
"Shivering Isles? Is it cold there?" Lemore asked.
"Depends on the day, really," Sheogorath said with a lopsided grin. "But it's home, although right now, I'm on a vacation of sorts if you will," he added.
"Would your isles not need you? Would you shirk your responsibilities as a lord?" Lord Jon asked.
"Eh, they'll be fine for now," Sheogorath stated dismissively. "It's not the first time I've taken a wee holiday and I usually sort things out when I get back home," he said as he took another slurp of wine.
"Indeed," Jon muttered.
"So, how is it you found yourself in Essos, my lord?" Aegon then asked their strange guest. "You said that your world can't be reached by boat," he added.
Sheogorath gave a secretive grin at this and replied, "Magic."
"Magic?" Aegon repeated flatly.
"Magic!" Sheogorath confirmed enthusiastically.
Aegon exchanged a glance with Lord Jon and Septa Lemore, now wondering if they should help this man into a padded cell for his own protection. "Alright, you got here by magic," Aegon said reluctantly. "Could you show us a bit of your magic?" he asked lightly.
Sheogorath gave a grin and held up a hand and flickering into existence was a ball of glowing white light. Aegon and the others stared in surprise as their mysterious guest bounced the sphere of luminescence in his hand before flinging it across the river where it bounced across the water's surface before flying into the air, doing loops. The ball of light spun and twirled in the air before flying back to into Sheogorath's hand where it was immediately snuffed out.
"Was that a mummer's trick?" Aegon asked in astonishment looking at Sheogorath in wonder.
"Magic, laddie. Plenty of it where I'm from," Sheogorath replied with a wink and a toothy grin.
"A very clever trick if I ever saw one," Lord Jon conceded with a surprised look on his lined face. "But a trick all the same," he declared.
"Well, if it's a trick, then feel free to try and explain it," Sheogorath challenged him. Jon had an annoyed expression on his face and scoffed at the proposed challenge.
"I must agree. It looked like a mummer's trick of some kind. A very good one, but it couldn't be magic," Septa Lemore stated.
"You don't have to believe it, my lady, and you're welcome to find a way to explain it," Sheogorath said.
"I will as soon as I find one," Lemore said with a smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Can all people of your land do magic?" Aegon then questioned.
"Everyone has the potential to," Sheogorath said vaguely. "Those who have the ability to harness it can usually go to a mages college to further expand their skills and knowledge," he added.
"Fascinating," Aegon mumbled. "I don't suppose you could teach me some magic tricks?" he jested.
"Would ye like to?" Sheogorath grinned conspiratorially.
"I don't see why I couldn't," Aegon replied with a laugh. "Maybe I could learn to hatch dragons like my ancestors did?" he said airily.
"Well, then have a nibble of this then." Sheogorath pulled out another wedge of cheese, one that was a creamy white with veins of blue running through it.
Amused by the joke Sheogorath was playing, Aegon took the offered cheese and took a bite of it. The burst of flavour that hit Aegon's tongue as he bit into the cheese was altogether unique; it was salty, sweet, bright and had an earthy note to it, but it wasn't unpleasant. Chewing on the fermented dairy, Aegon swallowed it the mouthful and looked around. "Is that it?" he asked Sheogorath who grinned at him widely. Then everything began to twist and distort in front of Aegon's eyes. The colours of everything he was seeing changed wildly and the sudden influx of emotions Aegon felt ranged from bliss, euphoria, fear and terror.
Then came the feeling of floating in water and Aegon looked around and he realised he was not in a body of water but floating lazily through the air. Daring to look down, Aegon's eyes bugged out as he was that he leagues above the earth. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Then slowly he began to float down towards the earth; but as he did, he began to pick up speed, going faster and faster.
Aegon opened his mouth to scream again and this time he could hear his own voice, but it was many times louder. So loud, he felt his ears practically burst. Then as the earth came rushing towards him, his world went black.
…
Aegon's eyes slowly opened as he regained consciousness. The first thing he could feel was a painful headache as he gave a pain groan. There was a feeling of something heavy and warm laying on top of him, followed by the sound and smell of a fire nearby.
"Lord Jon?" Aegon said, his voice feeling sluggish and unused. His eyesight was blurry as he saw a figure sitting near him and the figure pushed him down on what he thought to be a bed of some kind.
"Rest, child. You have been out for some time," said the stranger. It was a man with a thick almost northern accent and aged as well.
"Who are you? Where am I?" Aegon asked as he lay back and rubbed his eyes with one hand.
"I am Storn Crag-Rider, shaman of the Skaal village," replied the stranger. "My daughter Frea found you a mile from village unconscious and near frozen solid and brought you here," he explained.
Aegon's vision finally cleared and he looked around to see he was in some kind of hut. It was simple to look at but well-made. The crackling of the fire mingled with the smell of woodsmoke and something cooking as well. Aegon then saw the stranger more clearly; he looked old yet strong and healthy; shoulder length grey hair adorned his head with a close cropped beard of grey on his chin. He wore a kind of thick coat fashioned from fur and hides as he sat near Aegon.
"Are you a wildling?" Aegon asked dumbly.
"I am a Skaal, although some from the mainland would call me and my people such," Storn replied calmly. "Where are you from, boy? What is your name?" he questioned.
"Ae-Griff. I am called Griff," Aegon said. "I'm from Essos," he lied. He hadn't wanted to lie to his host, but he had no way of knowing where he was. "Where is Skaal village? Is it Beyond the Wall?" he enquired.
"The village is on the northern end of Solstheim, off the coast of Skyrim and Morrowind, lad," Storn told him. "I don't know anything about a wall," he then said with a shrug of his head.
"Solstheim… Skyrim… Morrowind… I am not familiar with such places," Aegon said.
"How did you come to Solstheim, boy?"
"I was on the River Rhoyne in Essos and this stranger approached our ship," Aegon began. "He had a strange name; Sheogorath he called himself," he recounted. "He offered me some cheese and I took a bite of it, then it felt like I was poisoned or drugged," he said with realisation. "Then I woke up here," he finished.
"Sheogorath? You encountered the Demon of Madness?" Storn asked in surprise.
"A demon?!" Aegon blurted out in confusion. "You're saying I encountered a demon?!"
"Calm yourself, boy," Storn assured him. "Sheogorath, or as the Skaal call him, Sheogh, is one of seventeen Daedric Princes or Old Gods. Sheogh is not truly evil, but he is mad and unpredictable, likely to cause chaos as to help mortals," he explained.
"And the other sixteen Old Gods?" Aegon asked hesitantly.
"Some are good such as Azura, but others like Molag Bal are evil," Storn told him. "One should always be wary when dealing with the Daedra, for they can ask terrible prices for a boon which can be a curse than a blessing," he said.
"Wonderful," Aegon muttered to himself. "What could this Sheogorath have wanted with me?" he wondered aloud.
"Did you speak with him about anything?" Storn asked.
"He made a show of his magic and as a jest, I asked if I could be taught magic," came Aegon's reply. "He then offered me some cheese to eat and I took a bite of it," he then said.
Storn hummed in thought before raising a hand which glowed with a soft yellow light. "You can use magic too?" Aegon asked in wonderment as he saw Storn's glowing hand.
"Most people are born with the potential to use magic, but few can harness it," Storn replied as he hovered his glowing appendage over Aegon's body. After a moment, Storn's hand returned to normal and he sat back to look at Aegon. "It appears your encounter with Sheogh has given you the ability to harness magic, though as to what his purpose in doing so was is unclear to me at this time."
"Well, that's nice and all, but I have a more pressing concern; how do I get back home?" Aegon asked.
Storn frowned and shook his head. "I do not know. My knowledge of magic does not extend to travelling to other worlds, but perhaps…"
"Perhaps what?" Aegon asked looking at Storn with a raised eyebrow.
Storn hummed in thought before answering Aegon's query. "There is a wizard to the south of the island; a dark elf named Neloth. He may have some knowledge of how to travel to other worlds," he said slowly.
"So, he could help me find a way back home?" Aegon asked hopefully.
"Perhaps… but I would not trust him easily," Storn said ominously. "He dabbles in dark magics and performs twisted experiments in his pursuit of knowledge," he warned.
"Right… are there any others I could consult?" Aegon asked.
"Neloth is perhaps the only wizard on Solstheim who may have the knowledge you seek, but there is the mainland to consider," Storn said to him.
"The mainland… what is the mainland called?"
"Tamriel."
"Tamriel… what a strange name for a place," Aegon mused. "And you mentioned a Skyrim and Morrowind?" he then asked Storn who nodded in response. "Which would be closer? And how I get there?" he asked.
"Skyrim is perhaps closer by a few leagues and you would need to get there by a ship or boat," Storn replied. "But you would need coin to buy passage. Have you any?" he asked.
"I'm a little strapped at the moment," Aegon said awkwardly and he sighed. "I suppose I'll need to find work to raise the money I need to hire a ship and repay you, don't I?"
"We will work something out," Storn said with a kind smile and the door to the hut swung open bringing a gust of freezing cold air and stepping inside was a young woman with golden-blonde hair, wearing armour Aegon had never seen before. She was also quiet pretty, Aegon thought to himself privately, for she had soft angular features with full lips and large deep blue eyes.
"Father, our guest is awake, I see," the woman remarked.
"Griff, this is my daughter, Frea," Storn introduced.
"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Frea," Aegon said remembering his courtesies. "I must thank you for bringing me to your village," he added graciously.
"You are welcome, Griff," Frea said with a warm smile that made her seem breathtaking to look at. "You seem to be on the mend," she noted as she moved to kneel beside her father. "How did you find yourself here?" she then asked.
"That can wait, daughter," Storn quickly told her. "Let us have something to eat. We could all do with a hot meal to warm our bones," he said.
Frea frowned at this but nodded in acceptance and looked at Aegon with a friendly smile. "Are you hungry, Griff? We have freshly made horker stew," she offered.
"Horker? What is a horker? Is that what you call a boar in this land?" Aegon questioned.
Frea and Storn chuckled at Aegon's query before Frea stood up to grab some bowls. "Come, Griff. Let us share a meal together and trade stories," she said to him. Aegon lifted himself from the bed to join the woman and her father in an evening meal.
TO BE CONTINUED…
A/N: There! Thought I'd give this a try; this was a plot bunny bouncing around in my head. I was going to use the typical Aegon ending up in another world after winning a squire's tourney, but I decided to put in some actual effort and have Aegon end up in Skyrim another way. I did use Sheogorath as the means, but I changed how it happened. Originally, I thought to use Aegon waking up in the prison wagon alongside the Dragonborn and the Stormcloaks, but I figured that would be kind of boring, so I decided to use the island of Solstheim as the place Aegon ends up in first.
Now timeline wise, Aegon has landed in Solstheim a little before the events of the main game and the Dragonborn DLC, so Miraak hasn't enslaved people yet, but there are plenty of things for Aegon to do around in Solstheim to raise the money he needs to hire a ship to take him to Skyrim, plus he might meet with Neloth and see if he can give him the knowledge needed to travel between worlds.
And before anyone asks, I don't think I will have Aegon be the Dragonborn/Dovahkiin, I've already got the Dragonborn worked out in my head and Aegon will meet the Dragonborn. Perhaps by having dreams and visions of the dragons returning to Tamriel in which Storn encourages Aegon to travel to Skyrim to make sense of the dreams he's been having.
Romance wise, jury's still out on that and there's a few available lasses in Skyrim, plus I have some ideas for some GoT/ASOIAF ladies to be in the story too, as well as some crossover babes *wink*. But for the moment, it'll have to wait, because like I said, this is a plot bunny that was bouncing around in my head, so no telling if this will pick up or not and if I continue it.
And apart from that, I haven't got too much more to say about this. Leave a review if you liked it and add it to your follows and favourites and we'll see if this story goes somewhere.
Be kind to one another,
Angry lil' elf.