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Chapter 4 - Chapter 4

The universe of A Song of Ice and Fire and its characters belong exclusively to George R.R. Martin. This is a work of fiction created by a fan for fans, made solely for entertainment and the development of creative writing.

Only the characters created by me, such as the protagonist and some other original characters, as well as the changes to the canonical plot resulting from their actions, are of my own intellectual authorship.

I wish everyone a good read!!

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Chapter 4

Two years later…

Year 97 AC

POV: Third Person

A massive light-blue serpent with enormous antler-like horns, similar to those of a stag, swam smoothly through the sea. The waters around it were dark, and the serpent wandered aimlessly, gliding gently out of the water toward the surface.

The serpent—if it could even be called that—gazed at the icy sea around it with stoicism, in a trance, as if it did not know what it was doing, living purely on instinct. Yet, if one were to observe its large golden eyes, it was possible to see a human-like intelligence that could not belong to any beast.

The creature did not immediately return to the freezing water. It observed its surroundings at the surface and began to slide along the tide toward the white, frozen coast.

At the moment its massive body became fully oriented toward the shore, its golden eyes gradually changed color, and its speed began to slow.

After a few seconds, the eyes that had once been golden turned green, and the creature's high intelligence seemed to degrade. It hissed in confusion and quickly turned its gaze back toward the depths, diving forcefully once more and disappearing into the freezing waters.

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POV: Denovan

I woke up sweating, my body panting from exertion. It felt like I had just run a marathon.

In recent weeks, I've been waking up like this. I've been having dreams—dreams I can't fully remember—but I'm certain I'm in the frozen northern sea.

And nothing more. I'm very sure that I've been dreaming about some great marine creature, and that's a good sign. It seems my skinchanging abilities are growing as my body matures.

And well… the lie I told my parents a few years ago was no longer a lie—I truly am having dreams.

And for that same reason, I can't delay forming a bond much longer. I turned seven a few weeks ago, and now I have permission to go out into the surrounding areas. I've been walking a bit farther from our community—only as far as allowed—always accompanied by Ulfar. When I go with him, neither my mother nor my father sends anyone else to follow us, and I've been mentally cataloging every creature I see.

I've seen hares, foxes, boars, and some interesting birds.

What truly caught my attention were the eggs of a small, fast hawk that are close to hatching. As soon as that happens, I'll steal one of the chicks and form my first bond.

With a hatchling, it will have more room to grow—becoming stronger, faster, smarter, and better in every way thanks to the bond of a true skinchanger. And when it reaches its peak, I'll receive a return in the same proportion. That's why I waited so long for this. I didn't find any other hatchlings in the area—only these eggs that are about to hatch. As soon as I return from the trip, I'll bond with it.

The trip I'm referring to is the one my family is about to take. At my insistence, my father is taking us to a nearby village to collect the bronze sword Sigorn commissioned from the best smith of the Thenns for Ulfar. Now that he's twelve years old, he's considered an adult and deserves a proper weapon.

And my brother has become a great warrior. Perhaps because of the difference in age, size, and strength, I can't defeat him at all.

But that was for now.

Breaking my train of thought, someone came knocking at my door.

Knock knock.

"I'm coming…"

I quickly changed clothes and opened the door.

"Good morning, dear…" Valka said.

"Good morning, Mother." I stepped closer and, as was customary in my past life—and apparently in this one as well—I hugged her and meant to kiss her forehead, as I did with my mother. But since I couldn't reach, I gave her a quick kiss on the belly during the embrace.

My mother stroked my head and said, "Let's eat. We'll be leaving shortly."

I nodded lightly. "Mm," and we headed toward the main room.

My father was already seated at the table, with my brother to his left.

"I'll go call your sister now…" she said as she headed toward Sig's room.

Since we were traveling today, the table was quite full—it looked more like lunch than breakfast.

I looked at Ulfar and said with an amused smile, "Excited, brother? To get a sword made by the best smith of the Thenns?"

My brother flashed a huge, wolfish grin and said, "If it were up to me, we would've left a week ago, haha."

My father smiled wolfishly as well and said,

"If we had left a week ago, Gorn wouldn't even have the bronze in his forge…"

"And knowing you, my son, you'd die of impatience watching him work," he finished with a small chuckle.

My brother, feeling offended, protested, "I'm sure I could watch him forge. It can't be that bad."

I interrupted him with a wolfish smile that mirrored my father's. "I've seen Rolf, our smith, forging, brother. I'm sure you'd start snoring in less than three hammer strikes."

My father looked surprised and curious. "You've watched our smith forge, Denovan?"

Ulfar fell silent at the change of subject, choosing not to comment.

I looked at my father and said, "I was curious about how weapons are forged."

"There's no harm in being curious, son… but remember that the son of a Magnar cannot be a smith," he said, his words weighing down the atmosphere.

"Smiths are very important, Father. And if they were better, our people might have already left this frozen land," I said, narrowing my eyes.

My father narrowed his eyes as well and replied, without raising his voice, though it turned cold, "That doesn't change the fact that you are my son, and all my sons will be warriors."

"Can't I be both?" I asked.

He looked at me, eyes narrowing further, and asked flatly, devoid of emotion, "Are you challenging your father's authority, boy? Your Magnar's?"

"I've already told you—do not bring this up again. None of my sons will be a smith," he said, not waiting for my answer.

"I understand," I replied coldly. I've always been stubborn, and I always will be. And I—probably the best smith on this side of the Wall—added quietly, "But you cannot change what the gods want." I used the gods deliberately—it was a perfect opportunity.

My father studied me for a few seconds, and just as he was about to say something, Sigrid's voice cut through the air, easing the tension.

"Good morning! Did you sleep well? I dreamed I was using your sword, Father. You gave it to me after I defeated Novan and Ulfar in battle—both of them together!" she said as she bounced toward the seat closest to my father, which my mother would usually take.

My mother, who followed behind her, didn't mind at all. She wore an amused smile as she looked at Sig, but upon noticing the tense expressions on Ulfar's face and mine, her smile faded slightly.

"Did something happen?" she asked, apparently without much tact.

Sigorn shifted his gaze from Sig to my mother and then to me. "Nothing happened… just our son being stubborn. But the matter is settled."

Valka narrowed her eyes at Sigorn, then looked at me and said, "I see." I knew that look—it meant I'd have to explain everything to her later. Such a curious woman, I thought with a smile.

Seeing the subject end, Ulfar hurried to change the mood, clapping his hands once. "Let's eat quickly and leave… if I have to wait a few more hours to see that sword, I'll die of anxiety."

We all nodded, and a few seconds later Sig's voice cut through the room.

"Dad, would you give me a good sword too?" she said with puppy eyes. And just as my father was about to answer, she added with a wide, wolfish grin, "I wouldn't mind if you gave me your own sword."

Cough cough.

"In due time, I'll give you a good bronze sword," he said.

"Yay!"

"Now eat, before your brother dies," he added amusedly.

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Two hours later…

There were eight of us—my family and three others, among them Halgar and two of my father's hunters.

Looking around, I saw that everyone was on horseback. I was certain we had around ten to twenty horses in the village, and seeing that we were riding with half of them, all mounted and moving at a steady trot.

Not knowing how far the village we were heading to was, I asked, "How long does the trip take?"

Halgar looked at me and replied, "The nearest village takes about four hours on foot for those who know the road. On horseback, it's closer to one or two hours—depending on whether you children cause trouble and need frequent rest stops."

"But we're not going to the nearest village. We're going to the one beyond it, so it'll be around three to four hours if we don't stop at all—which is impossible. The horses need to eat, and so do we. About five to six hours of travel, considering a stop and some minor setbacks."

"All that…? That's quite a lot," I murmured, gazing at the vast green expanse and the distant trees. The Valley of the Thenns had plenty of these areas—not everything was frozen and inhospitable. But looking farther toward the horizon, it was possible to see the Ice Fang Mountains, which surrounded the Thenn valley.

Six hours on horseback. Judging by the steady trot, we were probably covering around fifteen kilometers per hour—roughly fifty kilometers total. By car, that would take less than an hour.

I sigh.

I looked at my horse and stroked its mane.

Back home, I could have bonded with any of these horses. There were gray, brown, black, and white ones—all large and strong. They weren't elegant, but they were very similar to Shire horses, perfect for pulling carts and wagons. For the Free Folk, owning one was among the greatest luxuries and honors.

And I liked them just the way they were. After bonding with the hawk, I'd ask my father for a mount—he would probably agree.

I looked away from the gray horse I was riding and returned my gaze to the beautiful landscape around me.

And so, seven hours passed…

Everything went perfectly.

Almost everything.

My sister and I, in these child bodies, couldn't endure riding for that long. My thighs and groin were raw, and my lower back was sore.

"Damn… I need to get used to this."

I looked at my parents—they seemed perfectly fine. And if they weren't, they hid it well.

Ulfar looked chafed too. He never asked to stop, but whenever Sig or I did, I could see the relief on his face when we rested.

My steps were uneven and tired as I walked. I looked at my sister and said,

"I look terrible… how are you?"

I looked at Sig, who was sprawled on the grass with her arms and legs stretched out.

She opened her eyes, watched me walk, and said, "Not much better than you."

"Do you want to go see the sword, or are you going to stay there?" Valka asked, looking at our miserable state.

Seeing Sigorn and Ulfar entering the village and being greeted, Sig panicked.

"I'm not missing this—I want to see the sword!" she said, forcing herself up. Seeing that, I extended my hand, which she accepted.

I straightened my back and said, "Let's go… or they'll leave us behind."

"Those bastards…" Sig muttered.

We started moving quickly toward our father and brother.

When we were close enough that we no longer needed to shout, Sig gritted her teeth and said,

"You couldn't wait just a little longer for me?"

Ulfar smiled. "I've waited long enough. We're so close—I can't wait any more. Let's hurry."

We began walking through the small village. It was quite prosperous—very similar to the one we lived in, just smaller.

At the front of our group were Sigorn and Tigas, one of our village's hunters. On my father's other side was a short, broad, strong man holding a spear with a bronze tip—the leader of this village.

We continued walking until we stopped in front of the forge. It was similar to our house: up to waist height, it was made of stone; the rest was built from solid planks and wooden beams. On the side of the building, a roof extended outward, beneath which lay several objects made of tin, stone, and bronze. There was an opening that allowed a view of the interior, where the floor was made of stone—something rare among the houses of the First Men. Inside stood a forge that looked more like a large wood-burning stove, and at a glance it was clear it probably didn't produce enough heat to melt steel or refine high-quality metal.

Still, it was better than Rolf's furnace back in our village.

I began analyzing the surroundings: a solid wooden table with tools scattered atop it, a charred log likely used as an anvil, and Gorn himself sitting on a small stool, apparently sharpening a bronze sword—a very beautiful one. Even from this distance, it was well-made, far better than the weapons Rolf produced. Gorn truly deserved the title of best smith of the Thenns.

Noticing the movement in front of his forge, he looked us up and down until his eyes settled on my father. He stood up, set the sword aside, and said,

"The Magnar himself graces me with his presence. The gods favor me today, Sigorn," he said in a tone I couldn't tell was mocking or simply a customary greeting.

"Gorn… I hope you're in good health. How is my order coming along?"

"Yes, yes… I'm well. The sword is nearly finished. I'm just sharpening it now, and it'll be done shortly. If you wish, you may wait here…" He paused, then asked, "And who is this sword for, Magnar?"

Without waiting for my father's answer, he continued,

"I don't want a mediocre warrior wielding one of my weapons."

"It won't be a mediocre warrior. It will be my eldest son, Ulfar. He's twelve now and deserves a good weapon."

"I see… I hope he's worthy," Gorn said, staring directly into my father's eyes.

"And where is the boy? Which one of these is he? That big one? That one? The runt?"

My father looked back and called out, "Ulfar! Introduce yourself."

Ulfar had been observing the smith and the weapons around him. He stepped forward to my father's right, extended his hand, and said,

"I am Ulfar, and I am certainly worthy of wielding your sword. If my words are not enough, I can demonstrate my strength at any time."

"You speak well… boy," Gorn said. "I'll trust your words—and your father's."

"Now let me finish my work. You may take those benches there," he said, pointing inside the house where chairs and benches surrounded the table. "If you need anything, ask my wife. I'm busy now."

We nodded.

My father gestured to Tigas, who went inside to retrieve the seats. They sat down and began speaking quietly among themselves.

I didn't take a seat. Instead, I walked around the forge. I didn't touch anything—I never liked people poking around my workshop or belongings in my past life, and this man probably didn't either. So I simply observed.

I saw the tools, materials, the forge itself, the weapons, armor, bronze scales, shields, accessories. I watched everything, then shifted my gaze to Gorn as he sharpened the sword. Among all the weapons on the racks and stands, the one he was working on was the most beautiful. With some effort, I believed I could forge something of that level. It was a good sword—but not on the level of my finest works.

When I raised my gaze slightly, I saw that the man was watching me. I expected discomfort or disdain—he had treated everything so far with sarcasm and contempt, and I assumed he would do the same now.

But contrary to my expectations, he looked at me with amusement and asked calmly,

"What do you think, boy? Do you like my forge… my work?"

I looked at him, my mind already calculating. He was a good smith—a perfect opportunity to bring him to my side. He had solid experience, and if I improved his forge and furnace, he could likely work iron and steel after some trial and error.

He could help me forge steel much earlier than I had planned. He already had almost everything I needed—the only thing left was to improve his forge, secure the metal, and begin.

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Thank you for reading and for giving this fanfic a chance :)

These first chapters are very slow and full of explanations—it may be boring for some—but I promise that in the next chapters this will decrease.

Leave your opinion in the comments, and if you liked it, leave power stones—it motivates me to keep writing.

If we manage to enter this week's ranking, I'll release one more chapter as a bonus. If we reach the top 50, I'll release three more, and if we get an even higher position than that, I'll see what I can do.

We're almost there, just a few more.

Release dates will be Sunday and Tuesday.

I hope you liked it, see you in the next chapter.

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