Luke Velaryon: The Last Dragonborn C6 (Patreon)

Chapter 6: Escaping Helgen Part I

The logical thing would be to follow Gunnar and leave Helgen as soon as possible, but his gut was telling him to follow Hadvar. Luke has a rather complicated relationship with his gut feelings since they tend to be rather violent or wild, which is why he tends to ignore them for the most part, but after everything that happened in the last day, he thinks it might be wise to follow his gut for once. 

“I am coming with you, Master Hadvar.”   

Hadvar nodded and immediately broke into a run, heading back the way they had come. After returning Haming’s wave, Luke followed close behind, though he kept a few paces between them. The last thing he needed was for Hadvar to suddenly change direction and send both of them sprawling onto the ground. 

“Stay close, lad.” He said, turning around a burning house. 

Hadvar moved though the chaos of Helgen with confidence in his step, likely knowing each street and alley by heart. Ralof had been nostalgic when they entered the town, and he and Hadvar obviously have some history. Maybe they are both from this town, the though passed though Luke’s head as he did his best to keep up with the soldier despite his aching legs.

As they ran through the town, Luke saw more than once people heavily injured, barely clinging to life, and felt a pang of guilt each time he ran past them without stopping to aid them. 

Those men and women were beyond help, not even the best maester could reattach limbs or mend crushed bodies, maybe in this land of magic those miracles are possible but since Hadvar did not stop to help, then maybe not. 

Luke can not do anything to save them, that he knows, but it did not make it easier. As Prince and heir to Driftmark, he had spent his entire life preparing for the day he would inherit his grandfather's seat. Lord Corlys Velaryon had impressed many lessons upon him over the years, but one above all others: A lord's first duty was to his people. 

Their safety, their prosperity, and their very lives depend on him. 

One day, every fisherman sailing the waters around Driftmark, every merchant trading in its ports, every farmer working its fields, and every child born upon its shores would be under his protection. Their livelihoods would depend upon his judgment and heir futures upon his decisions. 

The Sea Snake had said that a ruler who forgets that responsibility is no ruler at all.

The people of Helgen were not his people, that he knows, but still, seeing so many innocent people having everything, their lives included, taken from them so cruelly is hard to watch. In a matter of minutes homes were crushed or burned, and entire families were torn apart. 

They did not deserve this, no one did, yet when did the gods care for such things?

Luke clenched his jaw and forced himself to keep running. 

“Help!” 

Both Hadvar and Luke turned towards the cry.

A nearby house, half collapsed, and with smoke coming from a broken window. Luke caught sight of a young woman trapped beneath a fallen beam though one of the windows. The situation looked bad, very bad. The beam pinned her leg, while the rest of the house seemed one strong gust of wind away from collapsing. 

Hadvar ran to the front door and cursed.

“Shor’s beard! Is blocked.” 

The door was buried beneath a pile of rubble. 

“If I try to force my way through, I could bring the whole house down.” 

“Help!” the young woman cried for help again. 

Hadvar turned toward Luke.

“Lad, you'll have to go through the window and get her out.”

Luke stared at the beam pinning her in place.

“I can't lift that.” That thing had to weigh at least five hundred pounds; there is no way he could lift it. 

“Use magicka.”

Luke looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and Hadvar paused for a moment, looking at him. Luke returned the stare.  

“You don't know how?” Hadvar asked, sounding genuinely baffled, as if Luke’s lack of knowledge was truly astonishing. 

“I am not from these lands, Hadvar,” Luke replied. “Magic is a lost art in my homeland.”

HELP!” The girl's shouts made both of them nearly jump, having almost forgotten about her, much to their embarrassment. 

“Magicka is magic energy, it is the thing flowing through your body like a warm and refreshing river.” Hadvar hurriedly explained. “Concentrate on it. Feel it. Move it through your body. Push it into your muscles while willing yourself to be stronger.” 

“Hadvar—”

“Don't just wish it,” the Nord interrupted. “Believe it.”

The sound of wood snapping had both of them looking at the house. Part of the ceiling moved and dust rained from above.

“There is no time, Luke.” Hadvar grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him toward the window. “Do it now, or the lass dies.” 

Luke just stared at him for half a second before he jumped through the window. He understood the words Hadvar had used individually. Together, they made absolutely no sense. There was no time to ask for a better explanation, so he rushed towards the young woman.

She looked up, and her blue eyes brightened with hope. She appeared to be around eigh-and-teen or nine-and-teen, with short reddish-brown hair, fair skin darkened by soot, and a pretty face. 

Under different circumstances, Luke might have blushed at the way she looked at him, but at the moment, he was far more focused on the giant beam pinning her to the floor. 

“Help me, please!” The young woman pleaded.

“I will.” Luke grabbed the beam and tried to lift it, but it didn’t move at all. 

Magicka, he thought, he needs to use magicka. He closed his eyes and tried to remember the strange feeling when Hilda cut the ropes earlier.  

“Feel the river!” Hadvar shouted through the window. 

“I am trying!” Luke shot him an irritated look before closing his eyes again, only to be interrupted once more. 

“Please!” The young woman said. 

“It has to flow!” 

“Could both of you be quiet?” Luke snapped. 

He closed his eyes and focused inward, and after a few moments, Luke felt the energy within his body.

No, not within. For a moment, he had the strange sensation that the energy was both inside and outside him at the same time, as though there was no clear boundary between his body and the world around it.

He reached for the feeling, it was not a river rushing through him as Hadvar had called it, instead it was calm and still. It felt more like a tranquil pond, one stretched throughout the shape of his body, not very vast as there was little water in it, only a shallow layer coating the bottom, yet with every passing second more water filled the pond from somewhere beyond himself. 

The sensation was impossible to describe properly, as the energy felt both cool and warm at once, like stepping into water that was always the perfect temperature no matter if it was a scorching hot day and you wished for a cool bath or a freezing cold day and you wished for a steaming bath. It soothed every ache in his body while simultaneously filled him with a restless urge to move.

He willed it towards his arms and shoulders. At first, nothing happened, so he pushed harder, ordering it to obey, and the pond stirred. 

For a brief moment he felt strong enough to wrestle a bear so, keeping focused on that feeling, he opened his eyes and grabbed the beam. This time it moved but just a tiny bit before Hadvar shouted, making Luke break his concentration.

“Hurry!” 

“Shush!” Luke barked and tried again. 

“Hurry!” This time the young woman interrupted him. 

Luke felt something inside him snap. Couldn’t they stay silent for five damn seconds?! With a growl, he grabbed the beam and, fueled by frustration and exasperation, lifted. To his own surprise, the massive piece of timber rose in the air and he nearly dropped in shock, put regained his grip before it could fall on the girl, who was equally surprised, same for Hadvar who fell silent.

“Move!” Luke growled through clenched teeth.

The girl scrambled out from beneath the beam, and only then did Luke drop it. As it fell to the floor a crash shook the room and the entire house creaked.

Luke and the girl looked up.

“That can’t be good.” He muttered.

“OUT!” Hadvar shouted. 

Luke did not need to be told twice, he grabbed the girl’s hand and sprinted for the window. Hadvar pulled her though first and Luke scrambled after her.

The moment his boots hit the ground, part of the roof collapsed inward, and a cloud of dust flew from the windows. 

“That,” Hadvar said after a long moment, “was close.” 

“Thank you!” The young woman threw her arms around Luke. “You saved my life!”

Luke froze for a moment, partly because he did not expect the hug, but mostly because his face had just been buried in her chest.

“You are welcome.” He managed to squeak out. 

Hadvar caught beside them, barely suppressing his laugh. 

“Lass,” Hadvar cut in, keeping his voice free from laughter. “There is a group of soldiers evacuating civilians two streets from here. Can you make it there on your own, or do you need an escort? ” He looked at her right leg, it wasn’t broken but there was some blood and swelling around the ankle. 

“I will be fine,” She let go of Luke, and from a pouch she took out a potion vial, which she downed in one gulp before looking back at Luke. “May I know the name of my hero?” 

“L- Luke.” He cleared his throat and tried to fight off his embarrassment. Never before had a girl who wasn't family hugged him, and as if that wasn't embarrassing enough, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. Heat rushed to his face, making him flush even harder. 

“Thank you, daring Luke.” She smiled at him. “My name is Ysolda of Whiterun. May we meet again in better circumstances.” 

And with those words, Ysolda of Whiterun turned and made her way toward the evacuation group. 

“First time you've been kissed by a lass?” Hadvar teased him with a smirk. 

Luke groaned.

“Shush it, you.” 

Hadvar’s smirk only widened.

“Though so.” He laughed. 

 “Come on, we have a general to find.” Luke pointed toward the distant sounds of battle and, without waiting for Hadvar, began running. 

Still laughing, Hadvar followed him, and the search for General Tullius continued. 

***

Author’s Note: Luke learned to use magic! As they say, you either swim or you drown. Pressure is the best teacher. 

A bit of headcanon lore regarding Tamriel: virtually everyone possesses magicka and knows how to use it on a basic level. What most people lack is the knowledge and training required for actual spellcasting. One example is physical enhancement. People routinely channel magicka through their bodies to increase their strength, speed, endurance, or reflexes.  These are common practices throughout Tamriel and generally aren't considered "magic" by the average person. Even many individuals who distrust or outright hate mages have no issue using these techniques themselves.

This is one of the reasons the mortal races of Tamriel can compete with and even defeat supernatural creatures such as vampires and werewolves despite lacking their natural physical advantages.

Likewise, enchanted restraints are widely used for prisoners. If even common criminals can temporarily enhance their strength with magicka, ordinary ropes simply aren't reliable.

That said, these enhancements are nowhere near Superman's level of super strength. The boosts depend on the skill and amount of magicka of the user, and magicka is not an infinite resource. Push too hard for too long, and you'll quickly exhaust yourself.

For the same reason, enchanted restraints are commonly used throughout Tamriel. Even a common criminal might be able to break ordinary ropes by reinforcing their body with magicka for a few moments, making enchanted bindings the standard choice for guards and prisoners.

As for romance: yes, that was Ysolda. No, this does not mark the beginning of some grand romance.

Luke is still young, and over the course of the story he may experience crushes, awkward flirting, brief relationships, and so on. I do have a few candidates in mind for who he may eventually end up with, but the identity of the future Lady Last Dragonborn remains undecided. We'll see where the story takes us, and reader feedback may influence things along the way.

One thing I can say with certainty: there will be no harem.

At most, I might consider something akin to Aegon the Conqueror's situation and have Luke end up with two wives, but only if the story naturally develops in that direction. I have no intention of forcing a romance subplot.

For now, Luke is a thirteen-year-old boy who is grieving Arrax, missing his family, and still loyal to Rhaena. That doesn't mean he's blind. He can notice when a girl is pretty and become embarrassed when flirted with, but he isn't looking to start a relationship. Not yet, at least.