Old Habits Die Hard Part Five, New habits? Or just old ones recycled? Options

[haute ecole rider]

It's now time to start a new thread for Julian of Anvil. Now that she returns to her hometown, it's rather appropriate to start a new thread to celebrate!

Thanks to all who have read and posted input on Julian's story.

For those coming in late, if you've got the time, here are links to the previous threads:

Chapters One through Seven
Chapters Eight through Thirteen
Chapters Fourteen through Eighteen
Chapters Nineteen through Twenty-two

I hope you continue to enjoy this story as Julian works toward the inevitable conclusion!

[haute ecole rider]

@Sage Rosa: Jared wanted privacy in his wooing, and the Count’s Arms would have set Julian off. Even at seventeen, she knew all too well how nasty rumors get started.

@Olen: I’m sure there were a lot of men (and maybe not a few women, but I’ll let Sage Rose be the judge of that) in the Legion who were interested in Julian, but no, she wasn’t interested in them. Not that way anyway. And yes, she was angry at how easily she was so humiliated, especially in front of her arch-nemesis, Astia.

@Grits: I suppose something awful has befallen Jared in the twenty-nine years since that night. After all, he was a sailor, and sailors like him don’t hold up well over the years. As for gelding him, that is what the snakeroot is for (causes impotence in men). Kudos to Felen!

@Acadian: Morvayn actually has a great deal of respect for Clesa as a fellow merchant. He always struck me as the kind of guy that would see the humor in any situation. He’s the wisecracking corporal in the foxhole that tells jokes and one-liners while HE shells are dropping all around. As for her motivation to sell Blanco to Julian, it’s not something that becomes clear for some time, but we will see . . .

@Zalphon: see above. Morvayn is knowledgeable, true, but he also considers Clesa a good friend and equal in the haggling business.

@Cap’n H: I agree, Jared does a fine job of making 50% of the human race look bad. Fortunately, there’s more good ones like dear Matius et al to more than offset the likes of that bahsterd. Thanks for your vote of support!

@mALX: my dear kitty, Jared hadn’t seen seventeen in at least a decade at that time. As for Julian’s sex life since then, you seem to be making the common mistake of substituting love for lust. Julian is one of those people who doesn’t feel the need to have sex at the drop of a hat. Yes, kitty kitty, there are such people capable of living a long time without sex. They just find something else to do . . .

@TK: I prefer to think of Jared as not a typical man, but rather a typical bahsterd. The two are not necessarily synonymous. And yes, you’re rather right, she’s sealed that part of herself off pretty well. As for who will batter those walls down . . .

Now that the mystery of Jared is revealed, we move on to another facet of Julian’s past, one likely more traumatic.

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Chapter 23.12 Eviction Notice

That was thirty years ago, Julian, I silently berated myself. Why does it still hurt so much? It’s just my virginity. Losing my family was far worse, still is. The stars above me twinkled heartlessly as I blinked away the tears that threatened to spill down my face. I found myself standing just outside the broken fence that encircled the abandoned farm. A waist-high boulder gave me a place to lean my hip against while I struggled to recover my self-control.

When my breathing steadied, I looked up at the cottage again. It looks almost the same as in my vision. But it’s been abandoned for thirty years! The scraggly plants enclosed by the fence belied the once productive garden that my mother had tended so painstakingly. Yet the thatched roof was freshly repaired, the door firmly closed against the night. Suddenly a faint noise reached my ears.

I straightened up off the rock. What is that? Laughter? Women? Now I saw the chinks of gold between the shutters in the windows next to the entrance. I reached for the remnants of the gate that still hung from its post. As I pulled it toward me, the door swung open and a man’s figure, briefly silhouetted against the lantern light within, stumbled out of the cottage. The panel closed behind him, but not before I realized he was completely nude.

“What -?” I could only get the one word out as he ran past me, his face averted. I stared after his departing figure, then turned back to the cottage. Just what is going on? Squatters? Prostitutes? I checked the katana at my hip, loosening it in its sheath. Momentarily I thanked Akatosh that I had thought to change into my repaired greaves for the hike up the hill, though I still wore the green shirt.

My boots scuffing the dirt softly, I made my way to the door of the cottage. Sounds of laughter, of good humor reached me through the weathered boards. What are they doing in my house? I could feel my jaw tightening and forced myself to take a deep breath, forced my fists to relax. I laid my left hand on the door handle and eased it open.

The interior was unrecognizable from my memories, with every square meter of wall covered in luxurious red woolen drapes, a plush carpet covering the worn stone floor, and a large bed occupying the center of the main room. The rich odor of wine caused me to inhale sharply. Three figures stood before the crackling fire in the hearth.

“Look at this amulet!” A tall Nord woman, her back to the door, held up something green and glittering in her hand. “What do you think it’s worth!”

The female Khajiit tilted her head to one side as she touched the gem. “Oh, about a hundred drakes, I’ll bet.”

The dark-haired Imperial woman spotted me standing in the shadows near the door. “Oh, girls, we’ve got company,” she smiled at me, shaking back loose tendrils from her heart-shaped face. The amulet clinked on the floor as the Nord spun around, her hand reaching for the blade at her side. The Khajiit pinned her ears back and hissed at me.

“What are you doing here?” I kept my voice calm.

“Welcome, Julian of Anvil, Hero of Kvatch!” the Imperial woman chose to ignore my question. “We’ve heard so much about you. You can handle yourself in a fight, eh?” She elbowed her companions aside and stepped toward me, stopping a few paces away when my right hand lowered to my hilt. Her bright eyes considered me a moment longer. “Hmmm, how would you like to make a little extra money?”

“Faustina -“ the Nord whispered warningly, her oval face moving from me to the Imperial woman.

“Listen, I’ve got a proposition for you,” Faustina ignored the taller woman. “I’m certain there are plenty of men who would jump at the chance for a night with the Hero of Kvatch, especially when she’s as exotic as you.”

What? My eyes narrowed at her, and I could feel my jaw tightening again. Me? Exotic? What, is she blind? Still I waited silently.

“See, we’re a gang,” Faustina continued. “We make money by luring men out into the middle of nowhere and robbing them blind. We target married men who are easily convinced that they will have their way with us.” She laughed, a brittle, tinkling laugh like shattering crystal. “Men are so gullible! But let me make something clear. We’re not prostitutes. We do everything on our own terms, and the men never, ever lay a hand on us.”

“Faustina, I don’t think it’s a good idea to tell -“ the Nord tried again to stop her comrade.

“Look at her, Signy!” Faustina did not take her eyes off of me. “Tell me a man can’t look at her and see how seductive she is in those leather greaves!” I resisted the impulse to look at my outfit. She addressed me again. “Listen, here’s how it would work. We spot a likely candidate in the Flowing Bowl, and you go in there and charm him. When he thinks he’s going to get lucky with you, then you tell him to meet you here in a few hours. When he gets here, you make him take off all his clothes. It’s pretty easy, by the way. That’s when we spring the trap and rob him!” She laughed once more. “The best part of the entire plan is that they’re so embarrassed, they never go to the guards!”

“That’s a nice enough plan,” I replied smoothly, feeling the pilus emerge in my soft tone. “There’s only one problem.”

Faustina’s smile disappeared. Signy’s hand gripped the hilt of her long sword, but she froze at a look from me. The Khajiit’s tail lashed as she hissed again, crouching and bringing her hands up. Her talons glittered in the firelight, but I kept my gaze on the Nord. Of the three, Signy seemed to be the only one to have the air of a trained fighter.

“What is the problem?” Faustina asked coldly.

“This is my house.” Now I let the pilus out fully. “I hold the legal title to this place. And the three of you are trespassing.” In my mind I visualized the shock on touch spell that had proved so effective against dremora mages. “Under Imperial law, as well as the law of this county, trespassers forfeit any right to their lives.”

“Well, if that’s the way you want it,” Faustina reached for her own sword. Signy’s blade rang as it cleared its sheath. “It’s three to one, Julian!”

Before she could draw her weapon, I took a long step forward, laid my left hand on Faustina’s shoulder and sent a bolt of energy sizzling through her body. She reeled onto the bed as I turned toward Signy, my katana leaping from its sheath. Already the Nord had her weapon arcing at me. To my right, the Khajiit faded into thin air.

Cacat! She knows invisibility! I hated those spells that caused the caster to disappear. Quickly I cast my detect life spell while I ducked Signy’s swing. While her greater height and longer reach gave her an advantage over me, I had years of training and experience on my side. I danced back to keep the Khajiit’s pink glow on the far side of my blade and to stay out of Signy’s reach.

The Khajiit leaped toward me, and my blade twitched toward the center of that glow. I felt the impact of her body on my weapon as something sharp sliced down the right side of my neck into my shoulder. Ignoring the icy pain of the claws, I stepped into the Khajiit, thrusting the point of my blade deeper into her mass. The spell shimmered away like rain spilling off the roof as blood seeped around my katana where it entered her abdomen.

Signy took another step toward me, her sword flashing in the firelight toward my head. I dropped to one knee and flung the fireball Berene had taught me toward her legs. With a twist of my wrist, my katana tore itself out of the Khajiit’s body as she slumped bonelessly to the floor.

Faustina reappeared at my left, screaming wordlessly as she slashed her sword downward. I tucked my knees against my belly and rolled to the side, away from Signy and clear of the Imperial’s amateurish attack. Some part of me noted how slowly Faustina moved compared to the Nord. That shock spell slowed her down quite a bit. But I’m still going to have to kill her. Before Faustina could recover her balance, I slapped her with another shock spell. With a groan she collapsed to the floor, shaking violently. I didn’t take the time to look down at her, but instead called on Domina Incendia. Signy moved her gaze from the convulsing Imperial to the voluptuous ‘fire-lady.’ I took advantage of her distraction to leap over Faustina and slip to Signy’s left side, tossing my katana from my right to my left hand.

As my summons began firing flames at Signy, I sliced my katana across the backs of her legs. Engulfed in a conflagration, crippled by my attack, Signy went down to her hands and knees. But she still clutched her sword, and she wasn’t giving up yet. Signy managed to straighten up and stab her blade in my direction, but I was already behind her right shoulder.

My grip now reversed on the hilt of the katana, I brought its tip down into Signy’s shoulder, angling it toward her heart. I felt it skim along the edges of her top ribs before something else stopped its advance. But by then, my blade had done its job. The long sword clattered from Signy’s lifeless fingers onto the stone floor.

The last of the magical flames flickered out as I staggered back, shaking from the natural adrenaline. I thanked Domina Incendia with my eyes as she shimmered out of existence. Faustina’s convulsions finally stilled, and she lay arched on her back, her hands frozen into claws, her bulging eyes fixed on the ceiling, the breath gone from her lips. The female Khajiit remained slumped in a growing pool of blood.

I caught my breath. Blood flows in this house once again.