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: I hope you didn’t have to go to the ER! Perhaps a seat belt will help the next time?

@treydog: Thanks for forgiving Jauffre! I’m glad you were moved by the “dream sequence.” We will find out just exactly what it is.

@SubRosa: We’ll see just how right you are!

@MALX: Oh, where are the hunky paramedics when you need ‘em!

@Olen: You’ll find out the fates of mother and brother in a couple more segments . . .

@Destri: Thanks for the wall o’ text. I now forgive you for being absent for so long! Actually, I knew you would more than make up for it, and it’s always good to get the overall summary (as you and trey have done) to help me keep the big picture in mind. You’ve mentioned Julian’s aversion to bandits. You’ll see when she visits Anvil (Flashback City!) in a future chapter. Some of the elements from her anesthesia/dream that you pointed out will also be picked up again during Julian’s visit to Anvil.

@Acadian: I’m glad you felt the emotion in this piece. I usually don’t cry when I write the tragic stuff, but I went through half a box of kleenex when I wrote this one! I guess it goes to show just how much I care about this character.

@Fox: Why, oh why did you feel the need to exile DIE? He's always welcome here, you know?

@Remko: The cinematography in the scene you describe is one of the most stunning sequences I’ve ever seen, and it is what made that movie a keeper for me (otherwise it would just have been another dull story about a boring noble general). While I didn’t have it in mind when I wrote this piece, there is no doubt that the impression it left on me has been of some influence.

Julian gets encouraging news when she wakes up.

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Chapter 15.4 - Waking to Hope

“Easy, Julian, you’re safe,” the rough voice brought me back to Cloud Ruler Temple. “You’re home.” I saw Captain Steffan’s blue gaze past his hand on my shoulder. My breath caught in my throat, and I realized that my cheeks were wet.

My left hand came up to wipe the tears away, and I shook my head. “I was home,” I murmured. “Now I’m not.” After a moment, Steffan’s hand squeezed my shoulder comfortingly, then he was gone.

Cirroc looked up from bandaging my knee. “Are you feeling any pain right now?” he asked. “Selena can make up some more of the willowbark potion for you.”

Taking another shaky breath, I considered Cirroc’s question. My right knee felt sore, as if it had been wrenched apart and put back together again, but that stabbing pain was gone. “It’s just achy,” I responded when I felt sure of my breathing. When I moved to sit up, Cirroc pushed me back down.

“You can’t move that leg for two days, now,” he warned me. “Not even to bend it.” He pointed at the stiff structure that encased my leg from hip to ankle. “I’ve splinted your leg to make sure you don’t.”

“Two days?” Quailing at the thought of being abed for that long a period of time, I looked up at Cirroc. “Can’t we speed up the process a bit?”

“And undo all the progress I’ve made?” his retort was oddly reassuring.

“So it’s going to be fine?” I hardly dared to hope. After so long - I let my breath out when he nodded.

“It looked good when I finished,” he assured me. Then his gaze sharpened and he shook his finger at me. “But you need to do the rest of the work, now. Stay off that leg for two days, no less.”

I looked around, not seeing the elegant Alchemist. “Where is Orania?” I asked. Cirroc looked up from his packing.

“She’s in the kitchen, with -” he looked upwards a moment, “ah, Jena, I believe? They’re working on preparing potions for the next couple days, to keep you comfortable.” He nodded at the splinted limb. “There is going to be a lot of inflammation. Part of that is due to damage, and my cutting away the excess scar tissue, but part of that will be due to healing. It’ll hurt, then it will itch like crazy.” He rose to his full height, looking down at me, his pack slung over his shoulder. “Believe me, you’ll be grateful for those potions, as horrid as they may taste.”

I groaned. “More of that vile stuff she made for me?” Cirroc chuckled, shaking his head.

“You’ll have to ask Orania, but it’s not quite the same thing,” he answered. “I don’t think it has the Alik’r lophophora.” He reached down and gripped my shoulder. “It won’t taste nearly as bad as that, I promise.”

As his footsteps receded down the Great Hall, I heard him pause as another approached him, the murmur of voices whispering through the great raftered space. I looked up at the huge beams overhead, the rows of katanas glimmering in the grey light pouring in through the clerestory windows above. What was that dream? Vision? Mother and Cieran haven’t aged a day, but I felt every day of the last - what? - Twenty-nine years? And what was that at the end there? Holding me back from them? Why?

“Julian?” Orania’s approach brought me back to the present. Her concerned gaze met mine. “You had a rough awakening,” she continued, her tone worried. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.” She set the vials in her hands down on the little table at the foot of my cot. “You were supposed to have good dreams.”

I smiled faintly at her. “It was good,” I answered. “Not your fault I woke up the way I did. I just didn’t want it to end, that’s all.”

Orania slid a quick glance at me that I found unsettling, then she looked down at the mug in her hand, emptying a vial into it. She filled it the rest of the way with the tea still simmering on the fire. She brought the mug to me, sitting down next to me and propping me up on the cushions so I could sip at the hot liquid.

“Is this the same foul stuff you gave me before?” I asked warily. She smiled and shook her head.

“Not quite,” she answered. “Just some willow bark and lavender sprig. It’s the lophophora that gives the other potion that vile taste.”

I drank the tea, and tasted the bitterness of the potion. Still, it was not as disagreeable as the anesthetizing potion Orania had given me earlier. The tea helped smooth out the acridity.

“I want you to take a dose of this,” she gestured at the vials on the table, “with some tea every eight hours. The tea will help it work more effectively. Don’t drink any of the klah, though - it is too stimulating.” Orania watched me drink a little more of the concoction. “I was surprised to see you here, Julian,” she said finally.

“Oh?” I glanced at her. “I’m a soldier, why wouldn’t I be closing Oblivion Gates?”

“That doesn’t surprise me, not after the riot act you read the young ones two weeks ago,” Orania retorted. “No, I’m surprised that as hurt as you were, you dragged yourself all the way up here, to such a remote outpost, when you could have come to the Mages Guild, or even to the Chapel.”

Ouch. “Well,” I tried to figure out how to explain why I ended up at Cloud Ruler Temple without revealing my membership in the Blades.

“You’re a Blade sister, aren’t you?” Orania crossed her arms. Shooting a glance at her face, I thought I could see disapproval in her gaze. “And joining the Mages Guild is just your cover?”

I closed my eyes. “It’s more than just a cover,” I murmured into the steaming tea. After I drank down the last of it, I met her gaze again. “I know you don’t believe it, but I’ve got to learn how to live on my own.” I shook my head. “I’ve got to improve my restoration and alchemy skills. The Legion is no longer part of my life, but that doesn’t mean I will forget how to fight for the weak and helpless.” The cup in my lap, I looked down at my hands. “I’ve spent too many years serving Akatosh to turn my back on those teachings now.”

In my mind’s eye, I stared at the closed door of my childhood home, felt the taloned hand on my shoulder, heard the raspy breathing at my back. In my peripheral vision, I saw my shadow stretching away eastward on the amber grass, and the immense shadow of the One who stood behind me, crouched down to my level.

I caught my breath again at the memory of that shape, feeling my eyes widen. At that moment, that something coiled in my gut again. Akatosh, that was you? Are you truly with me? The significance of his presence hit me then. Am I going to need you for what comes next?

Orania touched my arm lightly. With a shake that brought myself back into the present, I looked at her. “Are you all right, Julian?” she asked.

“I just realized something,” I responded quietly. “Something that scares me.” I shook my head. “I’m not sure I understand it.” My eyes dropped to the empty mug in my hands as I rolled it between my palms. “I’ll have to think about it.”

“You’ll have time to think about it, Julian,” Orania said quietly, plucking the mug from my hands and rising. She set it softly down on the table, next to the vials. Dusting her hands on each other, she turned back to me, her expression dark. “I won’t tell the others about the Blades,” she said. “I’ll keep your secret.” Picking up her pack, she slung it at her back. “I’ll be back in a couple of days to restock those potions. You’ll need more, then.”