Life Beyond Main Quest, A place where old habits continue, and new habits develop . . . Options

[haute ecole rider]

Hi all,

Julian continues to tell me her ongoing tale. There are many questions left unanswered by Old Habits Die Hard, and she will do her best to answer them!

So here we go again . . .


Evening Star 29, 4E01

"Julian." A voice from my childhood reached me beneath the murmur of injury and illness. I looked up from my patient to see the aged Breton standing in the doorway of the hospice.

I acknowledged him with a nod, then turned back to the injured man before me. "That leg is healing well, Ancus," I assured him. "Another couple of weeks, and you'll be swimming again in the harbor."

"Thank ye, kind lady," relief flooded the beggar's tone as he lay back on the narrow cot. "With these old joints, that's the only way I can keep active." I nodded my agreement. I recalled seeing Puny Ancus swimming every morning at dawn in the calm waters of the harbor, between the moored ships and the lighthouse. At these times, he moved without pain or stiffness. I suspected it gave him the same benefits that the Way of the Crane provided me. I smiled at Ancus and grasped his shoulder before I moved to the front of the hospice.

"I see Ancus is doing better," Tandilwe joined me for a few strides. "Thank you for helping with him."

"He may be a homeless beggar," I answered, "but he is my neighbor just as much as everyone else in the Waterfront."

"I wish more people felt the way you do," Tandilwe murmured before moving to her next patient's bedside.

Finally I reached the doorway and Traven. I put my palms together before my chest and inclined my head to him in the mages' greeting. "What can I do for you, Archmagister?"

"How are things with the Waterfront folks?" Traven stepped back into the late afternoon overcast. I followed him and glanced at the darkening sky. No red thunderclouds. Though it had been two weeks since Mehrunes Dagon had been banished back to the Deadlands, I still could not shake my new habit of scanning the sky for telltales of those Oblivion Gates.

"The hospice is half full now, sir," I turned my gaze back to Traven's face. "Most of the patients are recovering well."

"Then we can expect to see you at the Arcane University soon?" Traven led me to the nearby cemetery at the eastern end of Waterfront Isle. Fresh graves still waited new stones, their temporary wooden markers beginning to weather in the winter rains.

I hesitated, glancing back at the rough shelter of the hospice. "I'm not certain," I spoke slowly. "There's still so much to do here --"

"Julian!" A child's voice cut me off. I turned to see a Bosmer girl run up to me, a furry bundle in her arms. "See, you were right! Mausie is doing better!" The kitten mewed in protest at being dangled in the girl's hands as she held the animal up for my inspection.

I knelt to her level and cradled the tiny creature in my hands. Her dignity restored, the kitten submitted to my gentle probing with an astoundingly powerful purr. Her legs gave no indication of the trauma suffered just two weeks ago, when the Gate opened at the southwestern corner of the Waterfront Isle.

"Yes, Brynn," I assured the girl, "Mausie is all better. She'll grow up to be a healthy cat." I tucked the tabby-stripped creature into the child's cradling arms. "Keep feeding her small amounts of meat once a day. No more milk, remember what happened the last time?"

"Eww!" Brynn's face crinkled in disgust. "No more milk!" She shook her head emphatically before running off.

Traven's eyes on me were both thoughtful and amused. "I see you've still the soft spot for animals." I felt my cheeks warm at his reminder of my childhood obsession.

I returned to my full height. "Animals have suffered just as much as mortals here," I muttered more to myself than to Traven. His smile widened briefly, then faded on a sigh.

"Julian, you went to a great deal of effort to gain the necessary recommendations for entry to the University. In your place, any other candidate would have run to Raminus Polus to claim his spot on the student rolls. Yet you hesitate."

I considered his words. How to explain? These people have so little, yet they've suffered as much as those living on City Isle. I live here now, how can I turn my back on them? "Archmagister," I took a deep breath. "Who will help these people recover? Who will make certain there are enough healing potions to go around?"

"The Watchmen and the Temple can help here."

I shook my head. "The Waterfront is not a place where citizens trust the City Watch," I reminded him. "And there simply aren't enough Temple healers to go around."

Traven bent to one of the temporary markers and set it straight in the sandy soil. "Julian, I've seen enough of your spell casting to know that your magicka has grown considerably since those days when you struggled to heal your own scrapes and bruises. Yet you have not learned to control it, as you know how to control the sword in your hand." He met my gaze. "This can create a dangerous situation not only for yourself, but also for others around you."

"I've been careful, Archmagister," I knelt beside another grave and tidied the wilted blooms propped against the wood panel.

"Tandilwe tells me you've been up late nights replenishing healing potions for the next day," Traven apparently tried another approach. "Do you realize that alchemy consumes magicka as well?"

I glanced up at him, startled. No wonder I feel so tired these days! "As long as they need healers in the hospice," I nodded at the rough-built shelter just a few paces away, "I'll stay here and help as much as I can."

"Are you worried about the tuition?" Traven's abrupt change of subject caught me off guard, and I could only nod. "Silly girl!" Traven chided me. "If you had bothered to speak to Raminus Polus about the admission process, he would have told you that the Anvil and the Bravil Mages Guild chapters are sponsoring you!"

I stared at Traven. "S - sponsoring?" I stammered. "What does that mean?"

"Each Guild chapter has the option to sponsor a student of their choice and to pay up to a quarter of that student's tuition, for as long as that student remains enrolled in the University full-time." Traven's smile widened at the astonishment I knew showed in my face. "Between Anvil and Bravil, half of your tuition is covered."

I stared at the overcast sky, momentarily glad I was still kneeling. Anvil makes sense - after all, Carahil and Felen Relas knew me when I was a child, they know me better than anyone else except maybe for Traven himself. But Bravil --! "Why Bravil?"

"Kud-Ei is very impressed by the way you handled certain challenges during your recent visits to Bravil," Traven answered. "She feels very strongly that the Mages Guild needs more members with your real-world experience, and fewer - ah - ivory tower warriors."

I lifted my brows at his terms. "Ivory tower --?"

Traven chuckled. "One dangerous habit scholars must beware is the tendency to get so buried in their books they forget to look up at the world around them. Such as a certain pair of young mages more obsessed with playing pranks on their clueless chapter head than with figuring out how to keep the folks warm on those cold mountain nights."

I stifled a groan at the memory of the dressing-down I had given Volanaro and J'skar my first night in the Guild. “Yet they taught me a few useful spells,” I found myself defending them.

“They did not understand the practical value of those spells,” Traven shook his head. “They learned them only because they could. You, however, chose to learn spells that would be of use in your travels.”

I rose to my feet and turned to face Traven. “Isn’t that the best use of the magicka you are born with?” I shook my head. “I understand wanting to know more,” Akatosh knows how many military history and strategy books I’ve read through the years! “If not for those seeking knowledge for knowledge’s sake, how can we expand our understanding of the world around us?” I shook my head. “Like the nirnroots. Why have no new ones grown in so many centuries?”

Traven’s brows rose. “I see you have been talking to Sinderion!” He chuckled. “All the more reason for you to enroll at the University. Perhaps you can change Kalatar’s boring lecture on the runestones!”

[haute ecole rider]

So, I've been AWOL playing ESO and working and not much else.

However, a recent conversation in-game with a fellow Chorrolite (can't recall, but I think it was Grits. Or maybe it was mALX. Acadian, perhaps? anyways, one of those three) led to a mention of a small tidbit of Julian's life beyond the Main Quest that I think her loyal fans will find interesting, and perhaps as satisfying as she did . . .

This little episode was written when I was stuck with writer's block, as a means to give me a lodestar for her development in OHDH. Having written this, I was able to progress the story to its bittersweet end.

So, without much ado:

This episode takes place two years after Saint Martin's transformation into the Avatar of Akatosh. Julian has progressed in her Mages Guild training, but has never forgotten her friends in a certain destroyed town. She is tasked with bringing vital news from the Elder Council.

Leaving my pack behind, I stepped out of the newly-built Mages Guild chapter house. People passing by glanced more than once at me. I thought I knew why. Instead of my usual mail armor, a blue velvet gown clung to my body, falling in a full skirt to show just a peep of blue suede shoes. My white hair was piled high atop my head, secured with the ebony sticks. The only jewelry I wore was the Jewel of the Rumare, in its accustomed place on the little finger of my right hand. My one concession to my soldier persona was the plain katana strapped at my hip.

Turning north, away from the newly-repaired gates, I started past the Chapel of Akatosh. Its bell tower restored, the church dominated the gate plaza once again. Glancing at it, I saw again Martin’s tired face, the despair in his gaze the first time we met. Tired no more, I thought. Akatosh, I miss you, Martin. You were a good friend to me. I’m sorry I never saw you as anything more than just that - a good friend. But I promised you, no regrets. And I have kept that promise so far, and intend to do so until the day I die.

The street, still showing signs of the devastation that had visited Kvatch just a couple of years ago, led me past the Chapel towards the market quarter. Entering the bazaar was like entering a maelstrom, with stalls crowded cheek by jowl with each other, goods on display, and merchants shouting for business. More than a few recognized me, and hailed me variously by my name, as the Hero of Kvatch, and as the Champion of Cyrodiil, all the while offering me the best of their wares. With polite smiles, I weaved my way past them, and continued north. The arena rose on my left, still ruined. Children played among its tumbled stones.

It wasn’t long before I reached the Castle moat. Matius would likely be in there, I knew. He had been madly working on the restoration of the Castle, in anticipation of the new Count’s appointment by the Elder Council.

“Hail, Julian!� a familiar voice reached me from the direction of the arena. Stopping to look in that direction, I spotted a tall Imperial, with a shock of black hair highlighted by a white patch above the right temple, heading in my direction. Steffan! His grin matched mine as he reached me. “I’m glad to see you here, today, ma’am,� he greeted me. We grasped left wrists soldier fashion, then he stepped back to look at me up and down, still holding my wrist in his left hand. “You clean up good, Julian,� he teased me. I chuckled.

“What are you working on now, Steffan?� I asked him. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the ruined Arena.

“Measuring that old ruin,� he remarked. “Matius is thinking of - what was the word he used? - repurposing the Arena for something.�

“I’m certain the Kvatch residents would prefer to see the Arena rebuilt,� I commented. Steffan shrugged, his gaze darkening momentarily.

“Not many of those left,� he said quietly. “Most of the people you see here are immigrants.�

“Aye,� I agreed, looking around. “So, nice job on the Mages Guild,� I continued, looking back at him. “Almost as nice as Cloud Ruler Temple, if I may say so.�

“Ha,� he shook his head. “Thanks, Julian, but I can never match that workmanship.� Now he nodded toward the Moat Bridge. “I see you’re headed for the Castle. Looking for Matius?�

Hearing a slight edge in his voice, I held Steffan’s gaze. I thought he was getting along with Matius? “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am,� I responded. “Official business. You might as well come along and see.� I quirked an eyebrow at him. “I’d appreciate the escort, Steffan.�

He crooked his right arm, the handless one, at me. “Gladly, ma’am,� he said cheerfully. Slipping my hand into the crook of his elbow, I fell into step beside him.

We walked across the moat in companionable silence. That’s what I like about Steffan. He never pries. He just is. His company was as comfortable as I remembered it. Walking next to him, I found his presence sufficient to keep the terrible memories of Kvatch destroyed at bay.

As we entered the County Hall, we looked around, Steffan certainly seeking Matius, and I evaluating the changes in the damaged chamber. The debris had long been cleared away, and the scorched walls scrubbed clean. Now new banners displaying the Kvatch Wolf enlivened the walls. At the far end of the chamber, workmen fitted red carpet to the curving stairs leading back to the private chambers.

In the midst of it all, Matius, dressed in plain work clothes, was calling out instructions to the banner-hangers. “A little higher on the left - no, your left, not mine! Yes, that’s it!� As people saw us and paused in their work, Matius became aware of the hush and glanced over his shoulder. The intent expression on his face transformed in a grin when he recognized me.

“Julian!� he strode over to us, arms outstretched. “Come to see the progress we’re making?� He enfolded me in a hug, then stepped back. Much as Steffan had done, he eyed my frame admiringly. “You’re looking good these days, Julian,� he said, more quietly. Now he met my gaze. “News from the Elder Council?� Beside me, Steffan inhaled sharply.

I nodded. “Do you still have the Count’s ring, Matius?� I asked softly. In response, Matius pulled the chain around his neck, bringing the heavy signet ring from beneath his homespun shirt. Unclasping the chain, he slid the ring off and held it to me, his expression somber.

“Who is it?� he murmured.

Lifting my right hand to his, I plucked the ring from his palm, grasping his wrist in my left. I slipped the ring onto the third finger of his right hand. Meeting Matius’s stunned expression, I took a step back, drew my katana, and saluted him as a Legion officer. Snapping the sword sharply downward, its blade ringing softly in the profound silence, I knew I had the eyes of everyone in the County Hall on us. “Hail, the Count of Kvatch, Savlian Matius!� I said in my command voice, curtseying in a deep bow. Beside me, Steffan made me proud, dropping to one knee in the Blades homage. His voice, still rough, echoed mine.

Around us, the workmen and cleaning women followed suit, silently at first. Then a murmur grew around the hall, swelling into accolades as the good folk realized who now led them.

Matius’s expression was an amazing study of conflict. First he went pale at my words, then slowly flushed at the salutations around him. He looked at me, then hastily gestured for Steffan and me to rise. With a smile at his consternation, I met his gaze. He drew closer to me. “I don’t want to be the Count of Kvatch -� he began. I took his right hand in both of mine and leaned to his ear.

“I never wanted to be the Hero of Kvatch,� I answered. “Or the Champion of Cyrodiil. I did what needed to be done. As did you. Now deal with it.� Pulling the folded parchment out of my belt purse, I handed it to him. “From the Elder Council, my lord.� Again I curtseyed to him. “By your leave, my lord.� I stepped back as Matius, the writ in his hand, was swamped by his people.

Steffan offered me his arm, and again I accepted it. We walked out of the County Hall, as people ran past us to spread the news. “That was rather a sudden surprise, wasn’t it, Julian?� Steffan leaned down to me. “I wonder if you had something to do with it.�

“Hmm,� I shrugged. “High Chancellor Ocato asked my opinion. I merely told him what I thought.“ As I looked ahead, I saw people moving through the marketplace, spreading the news.

When we reached the bridge, we were forced to the right side to make room for people running for the Castle. Suddenly, three boys, urchins really, dashed between Steffan and me. Pushed to the side, I lost Steffan’s elbow and found myself falling against the low railing of the bridge. Steffan’s horrified face whirled before me, then I was over the side of the bridge, dropping to the moat below.

Cold water embraced me as I submerged into the murky depths. Oh damn, this dress is ruined! Oh well, I’m not cut out to be a noblewoman anyway. Looking up through the water, I could just see Steffan’s form at the railing. Don’t dive! Striking upwards, I broke the surface. “Don’t dive, Steffan!� I called up at him. “The water’s too shallow!�

He was already moving along the railing, heading for the bank. My skirts tangled around my legs. Thank you, Merowald, I thought for the umpteenth time, but continued treading water. The bottom was just below my feet, but the water would be over my head if I stopped treading. I didn’t want to scare Steffan any more than he already was, but the ludicrousness of the situation overcame me, and I started laughing.

At the bridge rail, I saw Matius, holding the smallest urchin by a pointed ear, looking down at me and shaking his head. He said something to the boy, and sent him running for the castle. Then he leaned on the bridge railing, looking down at me with a grin.

Steffan reached the bank and stripped to his breeches and boots before hitting the water in a shallow dive, cutting the distance between me and the bank in half. He swam out to me just as my skirts became too heavy and pulled me down. His left hand caught my right elbow, his right forearm slipping under my left shoulder, pulling me back to the surface.

“Steffan,� I was still laughing. “Stand up, you’re tall enough for it.� His expression changed from panic to consternation as his feet struck the bottom, and his head remained above the water.

“But you’re not!� he panted, still keeping my head above the water. I lifted my right hand from his shoulder and showed him the ring on my finger.

“The Jewel of the Rumare,� I said, smiling. “Water breathing enchantment.� Laughing again, I splashed him playfully. “But I appreciate your heroics.�

“You do, eh?� he answered, his blue gaze growing intense. His hold shifted suddenly, and I found myself scooped up into his strong arms. Stifling a yelp, I reflexively wrapped my left arm around his broad shoulders. He turned and started wading for the bank, laughing at my own consternation. My confusion didn’t last long though. Joining in Steffan’s infectious amusement, I swung my legs playfully, splashing the water. Oh well, we’re both soaked. It doesn’t matter.

By the time we reached the bank, Matius and the Dunmer boy, staggering under large woolen blankets, waited for us. Steffan set me down on the muddy bank and took the blankets from the urchin, tossing one at me. “Before you catch your death of pneumonia,� he said gruffly.

“I’m a Redguard,� I countered, though I was glad of the woolen cover, for the water was freezing! “Redguards don’t get sick.�

Wrapping himself in the other blanket, Steffan arched a sardonic brow at me. “And I’m half Nord,� he countered. “Nords don’t feel the cold.�

“All right, both of you,� Matius said with a grin, one hand coming heavily down on the urchin’s thin shoulder. The boy winced at Matius’s grip, and looked down, digging his toe into the mud. He mumbled something. Matius shook his shoulder gently. The Dunmer looked up at us.

“I’m sorry, ma’am,� he said to me. “For pushing you in t’ water.�

“Easy, Ma- my Lord,� I said, looking up at at the new count, trying to still the chattering of my teeth. “Apology accepted, young man,� I adopted my mildest pilus voice. “Next time, look where you’re going. The next lady to land in the moat may not be so lucky.�

“Come up to the castle and warm up,� Matius suggested. “I think we can find a change of clothes to replace that dress.�

“Actually, my lord, I thought I’d go to the Mages Guild,� I answered. “The rest of my gear is there.� Not to mention a hot fire.

“All right,� Matius nodded at both of us. “Ma’am, Steffan.� Still holding the urchin’s shoulder, he turned and hiked up the muddy bank, back to the crowd waiting for him.

“I don’t think that young boy is going to get off easy,� Steffan commented, rubbing his head with a corner of the blanket until his black hair stood up in spikes. Looking up at him, I became acutely aware of his nearness, the muscles in his chest and arms, that intense blue gaze. Oh, in the name of Oblivion. Giving in to the impulse, I reached up to his neck and brought his head down to me, kissing him full on the lips. All the pent-up feelings I had suppressed so long surfaced, and I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, leaning into him.

Steffan’s arms came up around my back as he responded to me. Shivering, I tightened my hold on him, not wanting to let him go, ever. He eased me back, his eyes dark. “Julian, you’re cold,� he said. I shook my head.

“No, that’s not why I’m shaking,� I murmured, hearing an odd note in my own voice. He heard it too, and looked away.

“It’s probably audacious of me, but my house’s closer than the Mages Guild,� he said quietly, wrapping the blanket around my shoulders. “And the fire’s banked, it should be easy to get it going.�

I smiled at him. “Audacious?� I answered, leaning into him again. I was rewarded by the flash of his grin. “You? No,� I shook my head. “Rather, I think it’s very practical of you.�

“Hmm,� he turned away from me, picking up his discarded clothes and boots. He shoved them at me. “Hold these for me,� he ordered.

Automatically, I took them, exclaiming, “You’re making me carry your - whoops!� This time I couldn’t stifle my yelp as he swept me up in his arms again.

“It wouldn’t be proper to make my lady walk in the mud, now would it?� Steffan remarked, carrying me up the bank. Laughing, I started swinging my legs again. Proper? Me going to his house to change clothes? Riiight! People were staring at us, but I didn’t care.

Reaching the street, Steffan put me down again, taking his bundle from my arms. Again, as before, he proffered me his elbow. As before, I slipped my left hand into it. Steffan led me along the moat, past the ruined arena, towards the residential quarters beyond.

He was right, his small house was closer than the Mages Guild. He let me into the interior, tossing his clothes onto a nearby bench and moving to the fireplace. A moment’s fiddling, and a healthy fire was crackling merrily away.

I met him in front of the hearth, embracing him again, seeking his mouth. “Um, let’s get you out of these wet clothes,� he murmured against my lips. His left hand started working at the laces on my ruined dress. “You may be a Redguard, but you’re a bit thin-skinned,� he whispered.

“Thin-skinned?� I murmured, still kissing him. “Me?� My hands started wandering over his back, working down to his breeches. “You may be part Nord, but it’s frost resistance, not water.�

We caught our breaths at the same time, pausing to look at each other. Steffan had his left hand and right stump on my shoulders, ready to push my dress down. I had my hands on the waistband of his breeches, about to do the same.

Steffan groaned and brought his head down to me, kissing me fiercely, sliding the wet velvet off my shoulders. “Let’s get you warmed up -� he half-growled into my mouth.

“Hmm,� I purred back, my hands already busy. “What’s this? Your friend? He needs warming up, too -�