Old Habits Die Hard Part Six, some old habits never die Options

[haute ecole rider]

Hello all, and welcome to the final thread of Old Habits Die Hard. Those of you who are familiar with the Main Quest know that we are fast approaching the end game. Only three more artifacts to obtain, then we can recover the Amulet of Kings and light those Dragonfires and see Martin to the Dragon Throne at last. Right?

For those who are coming late to the party, here are the links to the other five threads:

Chapters 1 − 7: From the Prison to finding the Path of Dawn.
Chapters 8 − 13: From Dagon’s Shrine to Bravil.
Chapters 14 − 18: From Sheogorath’s Shrine to the start of the Grand Tour of Cyrodiil.
Chapters 19 − 22: From Leyawiin to Skingrad.
Chapters 23 − 25: From returning home to Anvil to the final Mages Guild recommendation.

Here in this last thread we will see the Main Quest through to its tragic conclusion. Some questions will be answered, including who is the man Julian loves? Other questions will be raised, including what’s next for Julian? Those of you who have suspected a second story in the making, you are correct.

After a year and a half of writing this story, I am happy to bring this to a close, yet I am sad to bid it adieu. Hopefully I won’t let any and all of you down as we wrap up.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Jun 26 2011, 01:10 AM

[haute ecole rider]

@all: Just so you know, that wonderful scene of the Fantastic Four at the beginning of the last post was actually written by none other than Destri Melarg. He sent it to me after the last post of Chapter 26. It fit in so well with what is happening to Julian that we decided to make it a vision that she had. Only thing is, she can't remember it so well, only the feeling of foreboding (since she knew what happened to them). I'm glad everyone enjoyed that glimpse of them alive and together under the banner of the Blades. I am eternally grateful to Destri for letting me borrow his memorable characters Alain and Valdemar, Casnar, and Rielus for this story.

@Olen: You continue to amaze me with your perception of what is really going on in Julian's heart. And Captain Steffan will continue playing it pretty close as best as he can, for he is so much like her regarding romance in the workplace (not a good idea, especially among fellow soldiers - their opinions, which I pretty much understand pretty well). Will things progress from there? That remains to be seen. Julian still has some work ahead of her before she will let herself stop to consider things between her and the good Captain.

@Destri: Hey! That first part was pretty darn good! I had been wondering if anyone would figure out Steffan way back when we were guessing who it was! As I have the de-briefing scene already written out, it's more like Julian takes the initiative and Steffan just goes along with it. Course, you'd have to wait until LBMQ to see it . . .

@Acadian: I'm glad you enjoyed seeing the fab four again. I certainly did. Wish I could take credit for writing that scene, but alas, no. It's all Destri. And let me tell you something - I had admired Savlian Matius and didn't think anyone else could hold a candle to him, but when Captain Steffan made that comment about no mortar between the stones, it made me think of the Incan complex at Sacsayhuaman. I fell in love with him just for that! He is one of the more underutilized NPC's in the game, IMHO.

@Grits: I knew you would love the way Destri portrayed Valdemar - classic Skyrim Nord all the way! As for Steffan's non-greeting, well you may be right about that. Remember the last time she came home, she practically passed out into his arms. Yikes! Thinking back, I think that's when he started losing his grip (yes, our vulpine friend, his GRIP!) where Julian is concerned. As for his psychic abilities, well, after years of leadership, you've gotta have some talent and skill in that area. Concerning the battle of Bruma, you have every right to be concerned.

@SubRosa: It's funny - I was thinking of the habit of my brother-in-law to grow a beard every winter, since he spends so much time outside (originally a pig farm, now in charge of maintenance for a school district), but your comment reminded me of my brother's propensity to grow a beard every time the Cubs have a playoff season (of course, they don't make it quite that far . . . ) It's ironic that Julian should make that comment about taking or saving lives, because that is exactly what we veterinarians do - take lives (mercifully, naturally) or saving them. Does that make us less of healers than MDs? I don't think so, especially since we demonstrate more concern for quality of life, rather than quantity of life. And I'm very sorry to disappoint you. Countess Carvain is a fascinating character, and I understand that you would love to see slash involving her.

@Athynae: So you have caught up? Good for you! By now that's a ton of words (over 300,000 of 'em!), so I applaud you for reading the whoooole thing! As the Main Quest isn't quite over, you still have some more Julian tales to look forward to!

@treydoggie: Ah, my little dachshund, may you enjoy Sancre Tor! It was a challenge to write, simply because I wanted to do justice to Destri's excellent writing. I can never go through that quest again without thinking of Interregnum. I hope you will have more good things to say when you catch up!

The story so far: Julian is back at Cloud Ruler, waiting for her next assignment. She has brought back not only the armor of Tiber Septim for Martin, but also reinforcements for Countess Narina Carvain, whom she has not yet met. Now she returns to training with her comrades.

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Chapter 27.3: Reminiscences

“Stop, stop!” Ferrum put up his left hand in a plea for mercy. I lowered my katana and resisted the impulse to lean on it, gulping down deep drafts of the icy air. Perspiration turned icy on my neck and temples as Ferrum did lean on his weapon, his panting creating a fog between us. “You’ve improved since we last practiced. A lot.”

“Yes, and I didn’t have anything to do,” Fortis complained from the sidelines. “I almost started coaching Ferrum!”

“And I had to shut you up!” Pelagius elbowed him in mock outrage. He eyed me thoughtfully. “You’ve been working hard these past two months. How many Oblivion Gates did you close again?”

“I’m still not where I should be,” I managed to spit the words between gasps. My thoughts returned to the depths of Sancre Tor, and the formidable opponents I had faced within the ruins. “I’m not as strong or as fast as I used to be.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ferrum shook his head. He glanced around the plaza. “Does everyone agree that Julian is faster and tougher than me?” The murmured agreement surprised me, and I looked about us. Somehow during our sparring session, nearly the entire Temple garrison had gathered on all sides of us.

“Are you still doing the Way of the Crane every day?” Cyrus asked from beyond Pelagius.

I nodded. “Almost every morning, when I get up,” I answered. “Otherwise I’m a stiff old woman.”

“I hear you!” Jena exclaimed from Cyrus’s left side. “Especially with this cold!”

“But that’s not what you were doing just now,” Ferrum straightened up off his katana and sheathed it. He peeled his gauntlet off and rubbed at his face. “That’s something different, something I’ve never seen before.”

“The Sunbird Dance?” I asked with a glance at the tall Breton. “It’s similar to the Way of the Crane, but developed for swordfighting.”

“With one sword, without a shield?” Fortis asked me.

“Take this inside,” Steffan’s rough voice interrupted my answer. “Both of you shouldn’t be standing out here.” His blue gaze moved from me to Ferrum. “Baths and dinner first. Then you can explain this newfangled way of fighting to these young bucks, Julian.”

Young bucks? They’re not that much younger than us, Captain. With a sigh I put my own katana away. But you’re right. In spite of the quilted tunic beneath my mail, I was beginning to shiver. “Yes, sir.”

“Follow me, Julian,” Jena gestured toward the eastern wing. “We’ll lock Ferrum out of the armory. He can take his bath in the barracks.”

A few moments later, stripped of armor and sweaty clothes, I leaned back in a deep tub of steaming water set up beside the forge. Jena hung up the mailed cuirass on the stand next to my armory chest. “Think you’re strong enough for the Blades armor?” she mused thoughtfully, her fingers lingering on the blue and gold enamel of another cuirass that hung nearby, the Dragonscale armor that matched her own.

“It’s not as heavy as the Legion armor,” I responded slowly, pulling the steam deep into my chilled lungs with long inhalations. “But I’ve gotten used to the mail, and it’s better suited to the Sunbird Dance.”

Jena seated herself on the bench next to the forge, a whetstone in one hand and my katana in the other. “I heard your report to the Grandmaster,” she murmured, her face averted from me. “What was it like meeting those Blades beneath Sancre Tor?”

“Which ones?” I turned my head on the rolled towel beneath my neck to look at her. “The undead bones or the ghosts?”

Her head bent over my blade, she began running the whetstone along its edge. “Both.”

“The bones were fairly similar to each other,” I closed my eyes at the memory of the combat. “All of them were tough, fast for skeletons, and strong. They were more like living Blades than like your usual shambling bones.”

“As good as Ferrum, or Fortis and Pelagius?”

I opened my eyes and stared at the great beams overhead. “Better.” I sighed. “In all my years in the Legion, I’ve only met one Blademaster. That was Jelin. He was my pilus during my first posting in Valenwood. He’s the one that taught me the Way of the Crane and the Sunbird Dance. Until I came here, I hadn’t met anyone that came close to Jelin.”

The whispering of the whetstone ceased. “And how do we compare to Jelin?”

“The Blades way of fighting is different from the Legion,” I thought it over for a few moments. “More suited for close quarters combat between individuals than as part of a cohort. Yet it is more like the Legion style than the Sunbird Dance Jelin taught. So in your own way, all of you are as good as he was.”

“So the undead bones were better than Jelin, too?” Jena resumed her sharpening of my katana.

“Yes, and no,” I began lathering the soap into the sponge between my hands. “They fought better than I’ve ever seen Jelin fight, but then -“ I paused, lost in thought. Jena sat silently, her gaze on the blade resting across her thigh. I began sponging the itchy perspiration off my body. “I’ve never seen Jelin at his best. And what he taught me stood up well to those bones. Still, it took all I had to defeat each one of them.”

“Maybe it was just as well that you did the -“ Jena tipped her gaze upwards. “What did you call it? The Grand Tour of Cyrodiil first. Closing all those Gates must have made you stronger and tougher.”

I looked down at myself. She’s right. My muscles are more defined than they were two months ago. I’m not skinny anymore. Just lean and wiry and strong. No wonder Frederick commented on it when I last saw him. “It’s not a course of conditioning I would recommend to anyone, though,” I squeezed the lather out of the sponge and began rinsing myself off. Dunking my head beneath the surface, I ran my fingers through my long hair. Should I cut it? I used to keep it short under the helm, but I haven’t worn one since I left the Legion. When I surfaced for air, Jena handed me a small bottle.

“It’s a conditioner to detangle long hair,” she remarked. “I’ve had it since I left home.” She flipped her own jaw-length black hair back over one ear. “But I’ve not needed it.”

The small amount I poured out into my palm gleamed a pearlescent green in the firelight. The fragrance that met my nose made me think of bergamot, balsam, and lime. “This reminds me of Anvil,” I murmured.

“That’s why I thought you might like it,” Jena smiled at me. “My father was a merchant, he did a lot of trading along the Gold Coast into Hammerfell. As a matter of fact, I grew up in Rihad.”

“That’s funny,” I ran the balm through my long tresses. “I’m a Redguard, but I grew up in Anvil, an Imperial city. And you -“

Jena chuckled. “Yes, you’re right, it’s ironic. Would you say we grew up in the wrong cities?”

I shook my head. “Anvil’s pretty much my hometown,” I rinsed the conditioner from my scalp and hands. “I’m certain Rihad’s that for you.”

Jena held up a large bath towel for me as I rose from the tub. Using the edges of my palms to scrape the water from my skin, I accepted the absorbent cloth from her.

“And what were the ghosts like?” She turned away and shook out a warm felt skirt, dark green in color. “Were they heroic?”

“Heroic?” I repeated. “No more than I. They were Blades, sworn to the first Septim. They honored their oaths to the end.” My skin toweled dry, I accepted the skirt from her and stepped into it. “Just as Captain Renault and Glenroy have done.” Jena met my gaze as she shook out a dark brown woolen tunic. “Just as Baurus, Grandmaster Jauffre, Captain Steffan and every one of you here at Cloud Ruler Temple intend to do.”

The thick soft cloth shrouded my shoulders as I wrapped the shirt around my body. Its long folds fell to my hips, adding warmth to my skin. Jena nodded in approval as I tied the sash about my waist. “Yes, you’re right, Julian,” she picked up the conversation. “All of us intend to honor our oaths to the Dragonblood to the end.” Her dark eyes turned somber. “Whatever that end may be.”

“We will restore Martin Septim to the throne,” I put conviction I did not quite feel into my tone. “And he will relight the Dragonfires. No more Oblivion Gates will open, no more daedra will threaten our people, no more Kvatches will happen.”

“You’re right again, Julian,” Jena responded. She held out the leather cord I used to tie my hair back. I shook my head.

“My hair will dry faster if it’s unbound,” I took it anyway, wrapping it around my right wrist.

“That’s a lovely bracelet,” Jena gestured toward the silver circlet on my left. “I don’t remember seeing it before.”

“A friend of my mother’s gave it to me when I was in Anvil.” Felen Relas’s crimson eyes surfaced briefly in my memory. “It is all I have left of her.” This and memories. I closed my eyes and saw her once again in her garden, looking toward the harbor, the bracelet glinting off her right wrist. And whatever that was - a vision? Dream? Jena remained silent, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Aug 2 2011, 03:20 AM