Drachenlied

An Elder Scrolls V Fanfiction by Stephan "Eisen" Wortmann

All Elder Scrolls stuff belongs to Bethesda Game Studios. All references to mods etc. belong to the respective owners. Any deviations from the canon and things listed on the wiki are mine!

The Legionnaire

Everything went white, then nothing. Slowly the world swam back into consciousness. The first thing he felt was the rough stone he was lying on, its coarse particles digging into the skin of his roughened cheek. He then became aware of the pain in his shoulder and the back of his head. The shoulder had the ache of a threatening bruise, the pain in his head a thudding sensation that made it difficult to think, each heartbeat seemingly drowning out everything else of the world.

He groaned, shifting to lift an arm that was trapped under his body to push himself up. Gingerly he lifted himself into a crouch, using one hand to steady himself, the other to hold his throbbing head. Blinking several times he looked around. Everything was dark.

Carefully he stretched out the arm he had been using to support himself, blindly groping in the darkness. Straightening, he walked forward, waving his arm before him. After what seemed like a short eternity, he came into contact with a wall. Grateful for the sure hold, he pressed his back against it; he closed his eyes and opened them again, blinking several times. They were slowly adjusting to the darkness. Breathing a sigh of relief that he was indeed not blind, Hadvar looked around.

There was a fraction of light coming in from around the cracks of a door the way he had come from. Then, as if the thumping in his head were a bell ringing a signal, it came back to him what had happened: Helgen, the execution, the dragon, the mad escape and the ambush.

~o~

He had also managed to get into the fort after Aoife had followed Ralof. He could not really blame the Breton for her decision, considering what the Empire had tried to do to her and that he still represented it. But her choice still affected him somewhat - that she had chosen his childhood friend over him; whether it was because of her being a woman, or because of some reason that he himself could not decipher, he did not know.

What he did know was that he was still alive, that he was on his own and that there may or may not still have been a dragon circling the skies above; not to mention the rebels that would no doubt kill him on sight. These things in mind, he set out along the corridor that led out of the barracks towards the foyer where Ralof and Aoife had no doubt entered the building.

A small part of him hoped that he might still come across them, but his head reasoned that it would probably not happen and if it did, what he would be encountering would be either corpses or prisoners – neither of which was a scenario that he would have been at ease with. He had no way to tell how long he had been unconscious for and if they had forged ahead - as he had no doubt they would have – they could be miles from where he was.

Hadvar squinted as sunlight poured into the foyer. A large chunk of the roof had collapsed – no doubt the dragon's work – and there were bodies strewn across the floor that were clearly the work of someone else. The Nord soldier recognised the captain – she had been a hard woman and he would not miss her. He did not know the other two men; they had most likely accompanied the general here.

He looked over the bodies; the men had been killed by brutish attacks, the kind of wounds that were commonly found in Skyrim – whether inflicted by bandits or soldiers, the weapons used were normally the same, only the quality differed. The captain on the other hand had been killed surprisingly cleanly, considering that they had been under attack by a dragon not too long ago. The look of shock plastered on her face was testament to the killer's underhandedness.

Hadvar left the bodies; the Imperials could have been killed by any of the numerous Stormcloaks that had escaped in the chaos and it would be futile to think about it. He carried on through the keep, stumbling across more and more evidence of fighting and the dragon; either there was a dead Imperial or Stormcloak, or a collapsed doorway, or a dead Imperial or Stormcloak caught under a collapsed doorway.

Eventually the legionnaire made it to the point where the fort's tunnels ended and a natural cave system began. Looking over his shoulder one last time, he ducked into the opening – the Empire would need to know what had transpired that day.

~o~

"Brother!" the woman who Aoife assumed was Gerdur called out. She looked to be a strong woman, tall, fair-haired like her brother and with movement that spoke of great strength. She rushed up to Ralof, embracing him tightly.

"Gerdur, it is good to see you again," Ralof responded in greeting.

The woman stepped back from the embrace, holding onto her brother's shoulders as a mother would. She looked over him, noting the various bruises, scratches, burns and scorch-marks.

"When we heard that Ulfric had been captured, we feared the worst…." She did not finish the statement and did not need to. Aoife could glean from her tone that she must have been very worried for Ralof's safety.

"Ha!" Ralof exclaimed, "As if the Imperials could keep a true son of Skyrim locked away." The Breton could tell that Ralof was only trying to cheer up his sister; his voice lacked some of the conviction that seemed to come so naturally to him.

That was when Hod, Gerdur's husband, arrived. He was a large man, larger even than Ralof, and he had a large thick beard. He was wearing clothes similar to those of a blacksmith – a woollen tunic, sturdy trousers, boots and a thick leather apron, but instead of being scorched and soot-stained, they were covered in a film of sawdust.

He did not say anything, but simply nodded at Ralof, who took and shook the silent man's outstretched hand strongly. The large blonde Nord then turned back to stand next to his companion, placing a large hand on her shoulder. "Gerdur, meet the one I owe my life to and on more than one occasion too!"

Gerdur had been scrutinising Aoife with a hard look, but after her brother's introduction she smiled – a warm, honest thing. "Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine."

Aoife bowed slightly, "You are too kind; I merely did as any man would have."

Ralof laughed at this, "As any son or daughter of Skyrim would have, you mean! We were this close to getting our heads lopped off by those Imperial dogs." But after saying that his face suddenly turned severe, "Sister, there is something we must discuss and I would prefer to do it where the chances of prying ears are lower."

Gerdur, noticing the change in her brother's manner, simply nodded. "You can go to our house and rest until the evening. After we sup we can discuss anything more." She smiled at Aoife, "You at least, my dear, look like you could use some rest."

"I'll show them the way to the house," Hod intoned, speaking for the first time.

"Show them the way to our mead, you mean?" the Nord woman said bluntly, but there was a twinkle in her eye that belied the severity of her tone.

Seeing that the men had started wandering off without her, talking animatedly, Aoife shot a smile at Ralof's sister as she passed by her to follow after the two; Gerdur had been right - she would love to have a moment to rest.

~o~

Hadvar stumbled through the brush, cutting at the hardy northern plants with his sword. Damn his luck; he had made it through the caverns under Helgen without much fuss. It seemed as if someone had gone before him and cleared it of all obstacles. But as soon as he had made it into the forest, one problem after another had revealed itself. First wolves attacked him; after he fended those off a group of bandits tried to get him. Then he was running, from the wildlife and his own kind; Skyrim was, as ever, a harsh mistress.

The bandits had driven him off the path to Riverwood; perhaps he could travel to Falkreath first and after informing the Imperial garrison there, move on to Solitude. The detour would lengthen his journey quite a bit, but it was either that, or head into the mountains, and every Nord knew that the mountains were dotted with lairs and ruins that housed monsters and savages alike. No, his best chances of survival would be to go to the City of Graves.