Jon and Lydia woke three hours later to a knock on the door of the Arch-Mage quarters. Jon was still sore, and somewhat tired, but he was also near starving and needed to eat. He also wanted to drink some of that Daedric hooch.
He got up with Lydia and lumbered over to the door in skivvies. He opened it, and saw a man with stubble all around, and cold blue eyes common to Nords. He was outfitted in sturdy dyed pale leather armor, a bandoleer cutting across it, quilted coat underneath in Winterhold's dull white color, matching sturdy leather travel pants and boots, enchanted steel, and he was standing ramrod straight. This man was a former guard, Jon knew.
He said, "Honor to you, my Thane. I am Sindgrom, your sword and shield. They said you asked to be woken, so I offered to do so myself."
Jon smiled, "Please, at ease, and come in. I am Jon, this is my actual shield Lydia. Consider yourself also sworn to her."
Sindgrom nodded and marched to the seat motioned for him. Jon sat down, and Lydia stood behind him. They were both still nearly in all their glory, both wearing bottoms at least. Jon said, "You were a guard in the battle, going by the smell I recognize."
Sindgrom nodded, "Aye, Thane. I fought next to you during the push to the bridge, and was with the Jarl in the main hall. I have enchanted Imperial steel. Not so powerful, but enough that I had a chance against the ghosts. My first outing to clear a hole, one of the bandits had it. The boys gave it to me for my first time out. It is now sworn to you both."
Jon nodded, "Lydia?"
She nodded. Jon said, "Then I accept your oath. However, I am also going to give you final chance for an out. I know the oath is serious to you, and I know about the Talos cult currently vexing me with reverence I don't want, but I need to give you an informed chance to decide."
Sindgrom thought about it a moment, and nodded. Jon said, "I don't need a warrior. I'm literally a god with the power of Magnus and dragon-blood, she's literally an accidentally blessed demi-goddess, because I'm still a man and don't understand things. I need a well armed, and well trained manservant. Is that something you would be willing to do for the house of Noonien-Singh?"
The former guard didn't hesitate to nod. He said, "Aye, Thane. I am sworn to serve however you require. I will admit I'm not the most learned, but I'm no fool or dummy."
Jon nodded, "Good. I also need you to understand that you are to avoid sacrificing yourself for an oath at all costs. I would much rather you to make a break from a fight, so you can inform me of whatever is attacking my house. I'm a retired captain. My company was apart of a standing military. If you die, then I have failed you as a commanding officer."
Sindgrom nodded again, "Aye, Thane. You won't fail because of me. It isn't that much different in the guard. We're no cowards, but its better to report and reinforce, than throw yourself away against a greater foe for glory's sake."
Jon looked at Lydia suspiciously, "Then why did I have to drive that point home with you?"
Lydia smiled, "I was enamored with dreams of romantic fantasy. I still am, but I was as well."
The room scoffed and chucked. Jon said, "Alright, give me a moment. Lydia, please get my seal while I write a missive."
Jon took a card a wrote, "Mr. Monimus, please give this man, Housecarl Sindgrom of Winterhold, access to my account, within reason. He is to have a gold seal made for him, and a silver one prepared as well for my shield, Lydia Doom-Driven, the woman I was with on our first meeting. Deduct all funds required for this from my account. My metal is copper, hers silver, and all others who serve my house, the house of Noonien-Singh, will be gold. Sigmund will be expected to outfit my house, Breezehome, first thing, no doubt requiring a larger withdraw immediately from him. Thank you, Mr. Monimus, and I do hope this missive finds you well. Thane Jon."
Jon put the card in an envelop and sealed it after being handed the tool by Lydia. He said, "Alright, Mr. Sindgrom. You will leave when we leave. You will go to Whiterun. Take some time to rest, the battle only ended a few hours ago. Also report to to Professor Turrianus, and have your gear enchanted for whatever he thinks you'll need given your role in my house. Nice gear by the way. Looks new as well."
Sindgrom smiled, "The Jarl gave it to me personally. It was supposed to be his gear. Something lighter for hunting and travel, but armor still benefiting a battle ready Jarl. He said I would need it serving the Dragonborn. We're about the same size, so it all fit decently."
Jon smiled, "Good. Here is some coin. Get yourself a horse, consortium saddle, consortium rig and pack, bow and arrow. Also a cloak for the rain, previsions for the road. Also ask the Professor if he can do anything with your sword. I've read Masters can disenchant without destroying an item. If he for sure can, get more powerful enchantments on it. You may be a manservant now, but no manservant of mine will be without the tools they need to fight and survive."
Sindgrom smiled, "Thank you. You are most generous, my Thane."
Jon returned the smile, "Now, your first task, when you leave, is to take that missive to the Whiterun branch of the Silver-Blood bank. Mr. Monimus is the branch operator. It will give you reasonable access to my account, for among other things your personal needs. When you do that, get Breezehome outfitted for whatever you think a traveling adventurer and his shield would need. There's a master bed, ours, and the spare bed is yours, so outfit that however you would like. You will have to speak to Proventus, so ask him about the duties you will need to preform as a manservant, Steward really, well armed and trained of course. I'm sure he will help you, or put you with someone who can."
Sindgrom nodded, "Aye, Thane. I will do these things for you."
Jon said, "Good. My estate is small right now, a home and a book deal, but it will get larger over time. So this is the perfect opportunity to learn what you have to learn in a more controlled environment. You're going to be my front-man on that side of things, my muscle, so learn well. Last thing, try not to boast about Houscarling the Dragonborn. I know its important to your pride and culture, but I would prefer things be skewed about me as much as possible. What's true, what's not, who knows, my Housecarl isn't saying."
Sindgrom would serve his Thane however he required, but he was also happy to hear he was a little more than just a manservant, a Battle-Steward more like, quiet domestic muscle. Besides, he saw the kind of power the Dragonborn faced and now has. He probably wouldn't survive a normal outing with him and his shield. It probably isn't the best time to enter Sovngarde anyway, from what he just overheard not three and a half hours ago.
He said, "Aye, Thane."
Jon said, "Now, what of losses."
Sindgrom said, "Not bad actually. The streets are slow usually, and the attack stayed on the streets in a slow period. Only about a hundred. Maybe less. It could have been much worse."
Jon nodded, "Just wish we could have gotten here sooner. Thank you, Housecarl. You may go. Get a room for the next couple days out of that coin I gave you. I imagine you don't want to quarter at the College right now."
He got up and nodded, "Aye. They proved their honor, but aye. Thank you, Thane. Shall I tell them you'll be out?"
Jon smiled and looked to Lydia. He understood, "Aye, I'll tell them about another hour. I leave you both, Thane, Lady."
Thane Jon and Lady Lydia were in each others arms before the door even closed. Only what they had on, came off. And they decided not to worry about their implements that stayed on during the act. Lydia accepted offerings in her mouth, and even one in a new place Jon tenderly asked her to try, as she tenderly traced his scars.
An hour later they were dressed, bathed, and well and truly fucked. Lydia was back in her adept robes, and Jon his still intact apprentice robes. They walked out of the room, and down the halls to the main ground. The bodies were picked up, and being given their funeral rites. What little rubble there was, the ghosts and anomalies not being overly destructive, was cleaned up. The grounds were nearly empty now most of the work was done, and the party was ongoing in Winterhold.
Jon and Lydia made their way to the work area of the Master-Enchanter, wanting to see the progress. While alchemy takes a bit more time and forethought, enchanting went pretty fast, especially when the souls were provided.
He was working over his table seriously when Jon and Lydia walked in hand in hand. Jon let him finish his current task before said, "Hail, Professor Turrianus."
He turned around, "Oh, hail Arch-Mage, Expert. I have your armor and weapons done, still waiting on your robes though. I was just working on you Housecarls gear. Come in, let me show you what I got. You'll love it."
Jon and Lydia smiled at the enthusiasm of the Master-Enchanter. Jon said, "Alright, hit me with you best shot."
He smiled wickedly. He said, "First your boots. Skeever leather, and well made. Where did you get them? I never thought of using that pelt, for testing yes, but not a boot. I must admit, I did have to try them on, to ensure the enchantment took correctly. I ran a healing spell though them though. If it cleans gangrene, then it can clean a boot."
Jon scoffed, "Belethor, in Whiterun. He has a guy that makes them. They've been though a lot already in the short time I had them."
Turrianus nodded, "Well, first I got your muffle on, and then put a sturdy lighting resistance underneath it. The second is never as powerful as the first. I've also found lighting resistance works best on boots, giving you more than just the power of the enchantment itself, but you can put them on anything you can wear."
Jon said, "I expected that. It keeps you from being grounded. Lighting likes being grounded. It's why it often strikes there."
He nodded thoughtfully, "Ah, I've blocked lighting with a sword. It was a weaker cast, and I had lighting resistance on my boots."
Jon said, "That insulated you from the charge. Kept it from getting to the ground through you; That's how lighting really damages you. The sword was the ground in that case. Lighting follows the path of least resistance, and the metal will readily accept the charge. I did the same thing. No resistance, but leather boots, leather gloves, leather handle wrapping, all insulated me. Leather doesn't accept charge as well, little if any at all."
He scoffed, "That's a Masters dissertation you just causally threw out. Almost like you're an Arch-Mage or something. We know leather resists lighting, but thank you for the insight as to exactly why. Full plate also does the same, like full full plate, not what Lady Lydia wore."
Lydia smiled, she liked being a Lady. Jon said, "We call them Faraday cages, after the man that discovered them, and laid the foundations for our understanding of lighting. You can do a lot with it, if you know how to properly harness it. Magically or technologically. The charge will ground-"
He said, "Around you, but not though you, especially if its all on top of leather."
Jon smiled wide, "Almost like you're a Master or something. What else do you got."
He said, "Your swords. First, yours is like nothing I've ever seen from dragon bone. They're out there, from times ancient and not so. One came with the armor, but they're all napped like a stone tool. Not a straight sword like this."
Jon said, "I'm guessing some lost art. Oblivion, it's probably sky-forged. That sounds like the name of a forge that can ply ancient trade to properly forge dragon-bone."
Lydia said, "It's been around for as long as Whiterun. All we know is the five swords were forged from the dragon Olaf trapped and slew. Three are missing. You and Irileth have the last two."
Turrianus continued, "Well, it is a work of art, that's for sure. Even more so now. I put your lighting on it, don't want to know what happens when you mix it with Power-of-Magnus, actually I do. Anyway, it went on first, then the soul trap. The fire isn't as strong, but it's sill a three in one with the nature of the soul trap."
Jon picked up the sword, its enchanted energy glowing underneath. He activated the enchantment with intent, and humble fire first shot up the blade. That fire was turned sky-blue as the lighting mixed in and electrified it. A normal mage couldn't pump their own power though the enchantments, but a Living Divine Arch-Mage with the Power-of-Magnus could. Did he even need spell tomes anymore, or could he just reshape reality as he saw fit with any kind of magic he could think about? It was not something Jon wanted to experiment with. He would stick to spells he knows, while slowly probing this power of his. For all intents and purposes, his magika was sky-blue, and more powerful, but that's all it was.
Jon said, "I like it. Her sword. I expect she will want to keep her mothers sword at least."
Lydia said, "Oh yes. She will have to just put up with it. The armor is one thing, her sky-forged steel she was Thaned with is another. The balance on that thing looks awful anyway. Like they were testing and just sent it with the rest of the armor. Not that it's a bad thing they did."
Turrianus said, "I concur. Gave it a few swings. I put off on enchanting it though. For your sword, I started with frost, befitting Nord battle mage, then put the same soul trap on it. Ice always works well with fire, where enchanted weapons are concerned."
Jon nodded, "Extreme changes in temperature always do that. Your flesh is flash frozen, then flash boiled, the frozen again, and so on. Does a lot of fucking damage in short order."
He nodded, "No new insights there. Now your armor. For the boots, same as his. Muffle and lightning resistance. Your helmet already has a powerful fire enchantment, and your circlet good magika. So there I put regeneration of the circlet, and archery on the helmet. Many put archery on gloves, but your eyes are what you need to aim. For the gloves, I put a one handed enchantment, and a restoration as well, since you do a lot of healing for your Party. The chest has ice resistance, and a general magic resistance as well. Combined with the natural sturdiness of the scale? You'll be a man sized centurion with how much damage you can take and deal. I expect a lot of spells to bounce off you like they did Ancano."
Lydia smiled wildly as she stripped her robes in plain view and took to putting on the armor. Jon smiled inspecting the sight, and Turrianus did as well with a bemused expression. He said, "Your robes will be much the same. You have the power of Magnus in you, so I don't have to worry too much about he magika and regeneration like a normal set of wizard robes. Resistances and fortifications, maybe something for casting as well. I did enchant your crown. It fortifies Illusion of all things, and Alteration. Why if I may ask? You seem more a destruction magics kind of guy."
Jon placed the crown back in it's spot, the one still copper colored tip showing with the blood of Talos. He said, "Seemed appropriate. That blood made a charm that left the crown unnoticed until a treasure hoarding dragon came along and spotted it first thing. For alteration, I have armor spells. Might as well make sure they get buffed, and a god altering reality is what gods do."
He chuckled and said, "Ah, left there for you along. The blood of Talos can no doubt be used for charms like that. I would guess Akatosh had a hand in it, being the Lord of Time. Armor spells are always a good bet, even if you have armor, especially if you don't."
Lydia got her armor on, and she smelled what Jon thought of the sight. Scale was covering nearly every inch of her, including the kill zone Jon didn't like on her previous armor, fur insulation poking out here or there. The armor actually came with two sets of pauldron, the crafts-person probably figuring the scale ones would be unwieldy. They were, and she went with the more low profile ebony ones instead, still crafted to fit with the chest, and featuring plate along the side of her strong biceps.
Jon couldn't help his laugh. Lydia smiled, "What?"
Jon said, "Your pauldron. The dragon script on them is complete gibberish. Its just symbols they were given and slapped on in an order that looks like writing. I saw it all the time back home. Shirts with gibberish for English, and Americans with the same in foreign languages. It was like one big joke everyone was in on. A meme one man called it."
She joined in with a chuckle, "I couldn't tell, but honestly who else would. They'll be to busy eating my mother's now enchanted steel to read it."
Jon said, "Okay, time to go join the party, how about you get back into some robes so we can stay somewhat anonymous. That armor makes you a real eye turner."
They thanked the Master and walked back into the courtyard, and into Winterhold proper. Their hoods were down, and they blended pretty well into the crowd. There was another reason Jon wanted the Stormcrown fortified with illusion. He could put power though that enchantment, and get lost whenever he wanted. When also mixed with an in place charm? Power of a trickster god, Jon thought, and lightning cracked in the very distance. Heard only by those of superior ears. Talos was of good humor, according to the Graybeard histories.
Jon had a moment of understanding. He was a god, a Living Divine, but not really. He was using tools to channel inane power. That's technology, no matter how magical it is. Magus was the architect of Mundus, the very definition of a god, but at the end of the day he used an Eye and Staff. Just as it was all magic, however advanced, it was all technology, how ever magical.
Jon and Lydia found themselves at the Frozen Hearth Inn. The city was still a decent sized town, and this one in particular was out of the way, and nearer to the college. The proprietor was even said to like the College crowd, finding most of his business with it. A couple wizards had permanent rooms.
Jon and Lydia didn't really pay it any mind. They retreated to a more quiet table of the second floor, and ordered from a server that came. Enough food for four men each, and enough mead to get them both drink. It would assuredly be a lot.
They were chowing down, mead spiked with the hooch, when a man in his black party robes put a chair down and took his seat next to the Divine couple. He said, "Nice trick with the crown there, but not enough to vex the Prince of party tricks. How you two lovebirds doing? Good proud party you caused here."
The both smiled at their friend. Jon said, "Doing okay. Taking a couple days off, just got a little freaky, and now we need food and drink for more. I heard the Attendant is moving out. Hows that?"
Sam said, "No problem at all. I've been trying to get him to spread his little wings for an eon now. Thanks for giving him the final push. Not much will change. He's still my ally in the Great Game. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. I'd like my staff back. With him in his own realm, I need a new personal Attendant, you see. One he recommenced actually, a Dremora woman I think he's sweet on, and wants to invite in on the fun. Anyway, I'm going to give you a hand crafted tome to summon him unbound. That mea-"
"It's not a projection. I'm summoning him. Which mea-"
"You could do that thing, the one you know he want's you to do."
Jon and Lydia scoffed, "I will not be doing that thing exactly. He will have to settle for a quick death. I get his plate and everything? Sword as well?"
Sam said, "The sword still pops. Its a Deadric artifact now. And yes. Its all tied to his soul, and reforms at the Moment of Choosing. So if you need a quick infusion of coin, well there are many parts of a Dremora valuable for alchemy, and they want you to take every bit of it. He wouldn't Stop Pleasuring himself because he knew you were using his soul to enchant. All I could do is watch. What a watch it was."
Jon said, "Thanks Sam. I'll take that spell. Thanks for the staff in the first place. So what do you think about everything that's happened so far?"
Sam scoffed, "What kind of mammoth shit name is Heracles Storm's-Lord. It took me an hour of him praising it, but never answering my questions to connect the dots. Who is Heracles Storm's-Lord, I asked over and over. Praise him! Praise him! He kept screaming."
Jon and Lydia snicked both. Jon said, "Heracles was the archetypal demi-god where I come from. An ancient hero, son of Zeus. Strength of ten men, was basically it. I fit the definition, though made by technology."
Sam sagely nodded after a heavy chug. He said, "And you honor him by taking his name. You honor Kyne with that little enunciation trick you mortals use to make words out of old ones. Fair enough. Lord was right. Half the time we don't even Pleasure each other. I just listen to him ramble on in fascination, while giving a little Pain. I thought you were fucking terrifying when last we spoke, now you got that Mage-Juice in you as well. Thanks for being reasonable, friend."
Jon smiled, "Thanks for being friendly. Got any more of that good hooch? I'd like to stock up, if you'll offer it. You can see us drinking right now."
Sam smiled shark, "Of course I'm always willing to share my stash. You don't mantle parties by being stingy. What do you two think?"
Lydia said, "I like the juniper berries. Also that it actually still gets me drunk. I was almost ready to morn the loss of not being able too."
Jon smiled, "Half a finger in a mug of mead, and we're having a good time. Got a bit of a tolerance built up now. Both to the drink itself, and to the drunk. Couldn't drink fast enough for a drunk before."
Sam chucked as he pulled a few darkly ornate bottles out, and switched them with the half filled one. He chugged the rest of that in front of them while waving and walking off. Jon and Lydia split the haul evenly.
Jon had to know, "Rope, how is it made."
Lydia gave him an eyebrow, "Hemp plants. Why?"
Jon said, "Where are they? In the country I served that shit grew everywhere before it was outlawed. It was a strategic national resource. You could pay your taxes with it, and grow it in place of letting a field fallow. Deep roots that fertilized the soil when they died and decomposed. Why haven't I seen it anywhere?"
Lydia said, "Because we aren't in the Rift or Falkreath. It needs a warmer climate, and grows down south. You've noticed Skyrim has a natural chill to it. No so in those places. A lot of things still grow, but hemp isn't one of them in the Skyrim chill."
Jon nodded. That somewhat made sense, he thought. He said, "And what do you do with the flower?"
Lydia said, "Let the bees pollinate it for honey, collect the seed for next planting. The honey said to have better alchemal properties."
Jon chucked hard, "Fucking right it does. Smoke that flower and you'll be having a good time. How in the hell did no one figure that out yet?"
She shrugged, "Is it like Skooma?"
Jon said, "You would have to smoke unrestrained for most of a life to look like that drug dealer, so no. I've seen it in the guy that made the dank I had, but it's a lot more mellow I reckon. I think I'll personally crack that code, and make it a Divine gift, instead of a Daedric one."
Lydia snickered, "Let me know when you do. The Daedric ones are good, like this hooch. I bet a Divine one is even better."
Jon and Lydia laughed and drank and played with each others hands. A Bard-Woman was on the ground level, strumming her lute and playing a song written about the deeds of the day. It started slow, but quickly picked up like the blessed lover's date.
Our hero, our hero, claims a warriors heart
I tell you, I tell you, the Dragonborn comes
With a voice wielding power of the ancient nord arts
Believe, believe, the Dragonborn comes
It's an end to the evil of all Skyrim's foes
Beware, beware, the Dragonborn comes
For the darkness has passed, and the legend yet grows
You'll know, you'll know, the Dragonborns come
The strum pricked up, and the singer plied her voice on notes for a measure or two, rather than lyrics.
Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin
Naal ok zin los vahriin
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal
Ahrk fin norok paal graan
Fod nust hon zindro zaan
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal
The song was continuing as the lovers left the inn, back for their quarters for more wine and revelry. Most of the inn was chanting Dovahkiin! Dovahkiin! Dovahkiin! Though the didn't quite know the Dovahkiin was among them. Even Sam was in on the cheer, giving them a wink and thumbs up. He probably instigated the whole thing, Jon knew. Wrote the fucking song, he was certain.
Jon and Lydia got back to their quarters, and as they drank a little more Jon wondered if he would go to Whiterun first, or Ustengrav first, and then Whiterun. His thoughts on the matter were interrupted by Lydia strumming herself, and asking to try the new place again. All other thoughts fell away with Jon's smile.