Old Habits Die Hard Part Three, The old dog practices new habits Options

[haute ecole rider]

Here is the first of a third thread for Old Habits Die Hard. I appreciate all of you staying with Julian and I this far, and hope you stick with us to the end!

For those who want to go back to the beginning, here you go:
Old Habits Die Hard Chapters 1 - 7
Old Habits Die Hard Chapters 8 - 13

[haute ecole rider]

@hazmick: Thanks for the vote of approval on the finish of this quest. I rather like my version better anyways.

@treydog: I’m glad you liked the politics in play here in Bravil - I wanted to explain why it is the most run-down of all the cities of Cyrodiil. Its location on the Bay should make it a thriving river town, what with all the major rivers dumping into the same spot on the Niben (Narsius, Panther, Silverfish, Corbolo . . .) - kind of like St. Louis. And yet, it is just another shabby collection of shacks. SubRosa actually planted the seed of the Marie Elena when she made that comment some time ago about Adanrel’s brother being killed by bandits - no, pirates. It just dovetailed together too neatly. I had to go with Occam’s Razor on this one.

@Foxy: Thanks!

@Remko: I’m glad you ‘get’ Lerus now!

@Olen: Yes, Julian will eventually bring a resolution to the situation in Bravil. But that will have to wait . . .

@mALX: Ya want deviation? Ya want all original work? Be careful what you wish for - ya just got it! An entire chapter full of nuttink but Hautee’s mind!

@Acadian: I’m glad that you enjoy learning about the different NPC’s through Julian. My original intent in starting this story was actually to flesh out the NPC’s, but Julian turned out to be just as interesting in her own way as many of the characters we’ve met so far.

@SubRosa: You’re welcome to my street names! Actually, the maps in my Prima Game Guide all have the names penciled in! As for why Lerus has not resigned in protest, let me ask, why should she abandon her post, and the people of Bravil, over something like Terentius’s illicit behavior? And isn’t she doing something about it by recruiting Julian to her cause? I never realized Nordinor was running the skooma trade. I’ll have to look into it on the wiki. Thanks for the tip.

A bit of a time jump here, but all will be revealed. Chapter 15 is more than ninety-percent free-typing, with very little (other than locations and characters which you’ve already encountered) from the game. I consider this the most important chapter out of the 20 or so I’ve written so far in terms of Julian’s development. This marks a major turning point for her.

*****************
Chapter 15.1 A Confession

Paint trudged through the tall gateway, pausing only to blow hard before ascending the steps. My hands clenched on the pommel, I gritted my teeth at the pain in my right knee, agony shooting up my thigh and down into my ankle with every step the patient gelding took. Hang in there, just have to get to the top of the stairs. I looked up to see three armored figures waiting at the edge of the plaza, their gazes on Paint’s slow ascent. The shortest figure detached herself and ran down to meet us halfway.

“Julian!” It was Jena, concern in her blue eyes. “You’ve been hurt!”

My throat too parched for speech, I nodded silently. Jena stroked Paint’s neck and took his rein, leading him up to where the other two Blades waited. Through blurred vision, I recognized Jauffre by his balding pate and the hilt of the dai-katana rising past his left shoulder. Jena led Paint to a stop on the plaza, turning the gelding slightly so the two men stood at his right side.

Jauffre reached out and fingered the bloodstained cloth wrapped around my right knee. “We sent you for a Daedric artifact,” his eyes met mine. “What in Oblivion did you do, close more Gates?”

Blackness surged around the edges of my vision as I nodded again, then the ground whirled at me. Strong arms caught me, then I saw Captain Steffan’s eyes before the blue sky beyond disappeared into the abyss.

I whirled out of the void as quickly as it had come for me, my body twisting against the pain. As I gasped for air, strong hands caught my shoulders and steadied me, until I could tell up from down again.

“You’re safe, Julian,” Captain Steffan’s voice reached me. His hands on my shoulders squeezed comfortingly, then eased me back onto the cot. I looked into the Captain’s steady azure gaze. “You made it back,” his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled reassuringly.

I realized that I lay in the Hall of the Blades, near the huge fireplace that was a room in itself. Its heat soaked into my chilled bones, loosening the pain that coiled through my body. A glance at my injured leg revealed that I was no longer dressed in leathers, but rather a loose-fitting woolen robe.

Captain Steffan rose and turned away from me as footsteps drew near. “She’s awake, Sire,” I heard him say, then recognized Martin past Steffan’s broad shoulder. The captain moved away to let Martin sit next to me. I could see the concern in his gaze.

“Jena went to Bruma for the Healer,” he said, picking up a steaming mug. “But here, drink this up. It’ll help with the pain.”

As I accepted the mug in shaking fingers, I looked back at Martin. I tried to tell him about Sheogorath’s Staff, but nothing came out of my open mouth. Martin shook his head and nudged the mug closer to my lips. I sniffed it warily. Tea. Something else. A healing potion? I drank it slowly, nearly gagging at the strong taste of the potion. The tea barely moistened my dry throat.

The healing warmth surged through my body and beat the overwhelming pain back to their sources in my right knee, my left elbow, and my lower back. My vision also cleared, allowing me to see details at a distance. I looked up again, this time seeing not only Steffan, but also Jauffre and Baurus, ranged behind Martin.

“Hmph,” Jauffre grunted. He drew up another chair, setting it by the foot of the cot and sitting down. “Now, Julian, you admit to closing more Oblivion Gates?” Martin shot him a glance, then looked back at me. I knew they wanted to hear why I had been gone so long.

“Five of them,” I whispered.

“Five Gates?” Jauffre sat back in surprise. “You closed five Gates?”

The censure in his voice made me look away. “I couldn’t ignore them, sir, not when they’re so close to the roads and settlements.” I wondered where my gear went. “My pack, the stuff on my saddle?”

“Here,” Roliand’s voice sounded from behind Baurus and Steffan. They stood aside to let the big Nord set my gear down near the cot. He grinned at me. “Your Paint is in better shape than you are, it seems. He’s fine, just needs a rest.” Winking at me, he turned and walked away.

“How long have I been out?” I struggled to sit up.

“Oh, about thirty minutes or so,” Steffan set cushions at my back. “Jena left right away, because we could tell you are pretty badly beat up.” I almost missed the dark look in his eyes then.

“You should wait until the healer gets here before giving your report,” Martin said, drawing my attention to him. “You still look pretty shaky.”

“No, it’ll take too long to wait, Sire,” I sipped again at the tea. “I’d like to fill you and Jauffre in now, while I’m still awake, Sire.”

“I’ll bring the teapot, then,” Steffan turned to go.

“Throw in a couple more potions while you’re at it, Captain,” Jauffre ordered, then turned back to me. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, hands clasped loosely between them. “Begin, Julian.”

“I went to the Imperial City first, to look up Gwinas,” I saw the look of recognition in Baurus’s gaze. “Gwinas had mentioned being at some Daedric Shrines when I spoke to him about the Commentaries,” I continued, aware of Baurus’s nod. “He was helpful, and gave me the locations of several Shrines, including Azura’s. I decided to go to Sheogorath’s Shrine, south of Bravil.”

Steffan returned with a steaming teapot, placing it over the fire. Martin and Jauffre motioned for me to drink up the last of the tea in my mug. After I did so, I had the strength to go on.

“On the way down to Bravil, I found a Gate had opened near the Green Road, almost on top of a place called Inn of Ill Omen,” I faltered over the name. “When I spoke to the innkeeper, he told me business had fallen off, and he was concerned about the forester that was based there, a Kaeso Marsias.” I searched for approval in Jauffre’s bland gaze. “Marsias was the only Legion around, and I couldn’t leave him to deal with that Gate alone, not after -” I closed my eyes against the memory of the mutilated bodies in the Kvatch Deadlands. “Not after Kvatch.” I struggled to steady my breathing.

“So you went in and closed that Gate,” Martin stated quietly. “Of course, you couldn’t do otherwise.” Jauffre only grunted.

“There was another one right outside Bravil, too,” I added. “In the ruins of that old fort that is on the north bank of the Bay.” I looked into my empty mug. Steffan brought the teapot over and refilled the cup without a word. “Thanks, sir,” I said to him. “I closed that one, too.”

“But that’s not how you got so banged up, Julian,” Martin said. I shook my head.

“I went to the Chapel for healing. As part of my cover, I checked in at the Mages Guild afterwards,” Jauffre nodded in approving comprehension. “I got my recommendation from there, and I had to report to Captain Lerus of the City Watch.”

“Why?” Jauffre frowned at me. I swallowed another sip of the tea to hide my uneasiness at his disapproval.

“She remembered me from my previous visit there,” I answered slowly. “I wasn’t at my best, then, and she practically ran me out of town that time.” I recalled that I had never told Jauffre about my addiction.

Jauffre looked down at his loosely clasped hands. “Why did Captain Lerus run you out of town the last time you were there?” his voice was a growl.

Beside me, Martin shifted, turning toward Jauffre. As I glanced at the Septim, I sensed his protest. Reaching out to touch his wrist, I shook my head at Martin. I have to tell Jauffre myself. “I was drunk,” I spoke slowly. “When I was discharged from the Legion, I was in pain all the time. I drank heavily to escape it. After a while, it didn’t work. When I was in Bravil, I became addicted to skooma -” I closed my eyes.

Fortunately, the smith’s hammer was quiet in my head, and I felt none of the cravings that had hit me hard just a few days ago. Thank you, Akatosh, Talos, Mara, which ever of you took that away from me. “That’s when Captain Lerus kicked me out. I was brawling too much when I wasn’t holed up in the skooma den.”

Looking at Baurus, standing behind Martin, I noticed that he had his gaze on the floor. “As a matter of fact, that’s how I ended up in the Imperial Prison, I think,” I added. “I got into a fight with a Dunmer mercenary at the Wawnet Inn.”

Baurus met my gaze. “Yes, I looked you up after you left me in the Prison sewers. Laterensis Maro has no patience for drunks and brawlers. But he left you alive because that Dunmer was badmouthing the Legion, and you wouldn’t stand for it.”

“And since then,” Jauffre asked me, “any more skooma?”

“Not since Maro arrested me,” I answered.

“You’re in a lot of pain right now,” Jauffre pressed, his gaze skeptical. Is he regretting making me part of the Blades? I wondered. “What’s to stop you from seeking out drink, or skooma?”

“This kind of pain I can handle,” I held the Grandmaster’s gaze. “As long as I don’t get those headaches, I don’t crave any of it. But I’m afraid to take any drink, because I think that’s what kept those headaches going.”

There was silence for several moments. Martin watched Jauffre, who glared at me. Baurus and Steffan considered the wood floor. When the tension became too great, I took a deep breath.

“Grandmaster, sir,” I made myself hold his dark glower, “if you don’t think I deserve to be a Blade Sister, I understand -”