Game of Thrones: The Dragonborn.

[Chapter Size: 1900 Words.]

Third Person POV.

Somewhere on North.

...

...

Jon's footsteps echoed through that giant, icy tunnel inside the mountain as he sought to see what had drawn him there. He couldn't yet see what it was, as only a corridor led deeper into the mountain, and he continued forward, his presence echoing through the place.

Everything seemed calm, with only a few drips from above. He analyzed that immense corridor, clearly constructed by someone long ago, though he had no idea who had built it or why... The dead had been left behind, and the corridor began to slope downward until Jon started to see what looked like a frozen crystal ahead, or at least its tip in an even lower area.

He continued to the end of the corridor, where a new entrance to that area was revealed. There was no path forward, only a staircase beside him to descend. Pausing at that point, he raised an eyebrow upon seeing something inside the crystal, which was embedded in the wall.

"Why is this here?" Jon wondered aloud, becoming more fascinated with the things he found in this world, things that could be said to be unlike anything he had encountered in Skyrim.

Taking the stairs beside him, he didn't hesitate to descend slowly to get a closer look, his eyes fixed on the crystal. It was during his descent that something caught his attention for the second time. He had a better view of one side of the crystal and saw a metallic gleam, and it was clear that magic was involved.

"Don't tell me that thing is being held up because of this... What kind of weapon is that?" Jon muttered as he observed and analyzed.

As soon as he touched down on that level, he moved toward the crystal, heading to the side where a metal axe was embedded in the ice crystal.

There was nothing else in this area besides the ice crystal and the axe. No other exits. It seemed like this place had been made just to support the crystal and the weapon. Walking until he was a few meters away from the weapon, his eyes grew increasingly puzzled by it. He began to approach with cautious steps, studying the weapon intently.

"This... is like nothing I've ever seen. What kind of metal is this? It seems so powerful... It reminds me of a divine weapon... Dawnbreaker..." Jon let these words slip from his lips as he touched the metal, running his finger along the engravings. The touch made his finger start to freeze, spreading from where he had touched, but he withdrew his finger and examined the frost.

"Magic... cold magic..." he murmured, noticing the magical power that generated a freezing effect on everything it touched, from the axe to the crystal.

Jon then looked at the creature inside, trapped in a static form. "And you... how long have you been in there?" he said, looking at the white creature with a certain fascination in his gaze. It didn't remind him of the fierce looks he'd seen in dragons as he fought them across Skyrim, shooting them from the sky.

This creature seemed calmer, more solemn, even with a touch of gentleness in its gaze. The dragons of Westeros were not like those of Skyrim; the Valyrian dragons weren't as powerful, but they also didn't carry the arrogance of Skyrim's dragons, who considered themselves above all other species. They even allowed themselves to be ridden by humans and commanded by those who shared the blood of their family.

"But I've never heard of a frozen dragon... a white dragon with red eyes, like the one I see here... How did you end up in this place...?" He thought aloud, his gaze shifting between the dragon and the weapon. It was obvious that the dragon was trapped because of that axe.

This raised more questions, but that didn't matter for now. Jon took a few steps back, looking at the trapped crystal. "Well, I was called here for some reason. Did you call me?" he asked, looking at the frozen dragon, but silence was his only answer.

He broke the silence again. "Well, so be it." He shrugged. He was already there, after all; he had just made it past an army of living monsters. Why should he simply turn his back now? He would take his chances and see what happened.

Approaching the axe once more, he went for its handle. As his hand neared it, he felt the biting cold of a harsh winter, even with almost no contact with the weapon.

"This weapon... it must be tamed..." Jon murmured. It wasn't the first time he had looked at a weapon that wouldn't let just anyone touch it or that he had to prove himself worthy to wield.

He had always found these kinds of weapons interesting, as they accepted only one master and wouldn't let just anyone handle them. So, he closed his hand around the handle, and a great chill invaded him, starting to freeze his skin from his hand, spreading to his forearm, while the axe began to glow, trying to reject his touch.

"You're rebellious, but I like that." Jon said with a smirk, viewing this as an enjoyable challenge as the axe tried to push him away. He held firm, determined, trying to overcome the axe's resistance as it refused to move.

Not satisfied, he brought his other hand to the axe, freezing it equally as the challenge continued. The axe tried to remain firm as Jon endured the magical cold as if standing naked in a blizzard, and information began to flow into his mind.

"Leviathan Axe..." he murmured, looking excitedly at the weapon as he tried to force it. It was the weapon of a god, as he had suspected, much like Dawnbreaker, a weapon given by Meridia, a Daedric Prince—someone he wished would come to this world, as she despised the undead and similar creatures...

"Haha!" Jon, used to such situations, began to laugh, always thrilled, as he started to gain control more quickly. "You will be mine." He murmured.

Jon was not a big fan of spears, though he kept the White Walkers' spears for use when necessary. His official combat weapons were swords like Dark Sister, and now, this axe would be a new addition to his free hand.

Then, for the first time, a crack began to form in the ice at the point where the axe was as Jon forced it to move, and a fissure began to spread across the entire crystal, shattering like fragile glass as he pulled on the axe.

Until, with a thunderous sound echoing through the entire cavern, he yanked the axe free, and in the next moment, the entire crystal exploded, with the dragon finally being set free, its body intact but beginning to fall limply to the ground, almost as if it were dead from being trapped for so long.

Jon paid no attention to that as his hands stopped freezing at that moment, causing the ice to shatter and disappear. The axe had finally been tamed by him. He looked at the axe, satisfied, spinning it swiftly like the weapon it was, flexible with these movements, beginning to understand how it worked. He tightened the wooden handle, making a movement, and the blade suddenly grew, creating a larger ice blade with a piercing sound, lifting it and gazing at it in satisfaction.

"Well, this is quite interesting," he murmured. The control over the weapon was unlike anything he had experienced before. Jon was fascinated by what he held in his hands; he had acquired something truly remarkable.

He took the axe, already knowing how it worked by now, and threw it directly at the wall. The weapon flew at high speed, striking and embedding itself easily into the surface, getting stuck there. But it didn't end there—because as soon as he raised his hand, the blade began to tremble before flying back to his grasp, which he caught effortlessly. He looked at it with even more fascination. "I've never had a weapon like this... you are truly unique..." Jon murmured.

Jon was an avowed lover of weapons; he kept many of them in his personal arsenal, his collection being something he took great pride in having.

But his thoughts about the axe had to be set aside when a huge shadow fell over him with the sound of breaking ice, as the quadrupedal dragon began trying to rise, placing its paws on the shattered crystal ice, looking at Jon with some caution.

"Do you speak?" Jon asked, but the creature only looked at him, showing it didn't understand his language. "I should have expected that..." he murmured, a bit disappointed. Used to the dragons of Skyrim, Jon knew that the dragons of Westeros didn't speak, and they had to speak Valyrian—something Jon hadn't learned yet.

"Well, now... what should I do with you?" Jon murmured, looking at the dragon that certainly didn't seem dangerous. It kept its gaze on him, slipping among the ice as it tried to regain motor control of its limbs after what it had gone through. Clearly, it wasn't an easy situation.

It was strange; Jon didn't feel an urge to fight this dragon, despite the possibility being there. Used to killing them, his first thought had been how he could finish it off and absorb its soul. However, deep inside, he felt a connection with the dragon—something that had emerged since he stepped into this world. They connected the moment he returned here, something unexpected.

"Can you understand me?" Jon then spoke in the old tongue, which he had learned from Val.

The dragon seemed to turn its head toward him, still slipping but staying as steady as it could.

Jon stored the axe in his dimensional pocket as the dragon seemed to grow nervous, sensing how dangerous this human was and even trying to distance itself, an expression of fear on its face.

The dragon was female, as Jon noticed, and for the first time in his life, he saw such a creature that made him look with pity.

He sighed before filling his lungs. "Kaan Drem." He used this Thu'um with two words, causing the dragon to start calming down, emitting a bluish aura—an effect of this shout.

"Calm down, girl... I'm not going to hurt you..." Jon said, approaching the dragon. She was at least twenty meters long; it was as if these corridors were made for her to pass through. Perhaps she had been worshipped by the free folk who lived in these lands thousands of years ago—Jon didn't know.

As he studied the white female dragon, his gaze suddenly shifted to the entrance of the place, sensing something. "This is bad... this place will lose its magical protection... probably also created by the axe," he murmured, his expression cautious before looking at the dragon, who would easily be killed in this place in her current state.

"Listen, girl... we need to get you out of here, and you'll have to make an effort..." Jon murmured to her, knowing that soon, the whole place would be filled with thousands of undead.

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I thought about adding the weapons from Skyrim... but I ended up creating a new arsenal... The Leviathan Axe was something I always wanted to add to a medieval fanfic, and I found the opportunity here.

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