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

[SubRosa]

I can understand the desire to skip the events in Paradise and just cut to the chase. Paradise is a long grind, and it follows what was already a long grind in the Battle of Bruma. It is enough to make the reader weary. Instead this gives us a few more quiet pieces to recoup before the next, final big grind of the story's climax.

“And after all, we share the blessing of Talos, Bruma and the Blades.”
This was something that never occurred to me while playing the game. But it does make sense that CRT would be placed near Bruma, in that both are dedicated to Talos.

We meet a new member in Dunore. That was a good touch, to come after Julian's dwellage over all those who had been lost, both to death and wounds, and those whose lives still hung in the balance.

[McBadgere]

Excellent stuff!...

Loved the bit with Julian looking up at the Katanas...A brilliant, yet sad reminder of the losses in the battle...

And a nice intro to the newbies...Amazingly done that...Loved it...

Again with the good idea about giving up on Paradise...I tended to spend my trip through there going "Dear Zod, shut up will ya?!!..." ...

Nice one!!....

*applauds heartily*...

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: I wanted to affirm just how much the trials of Sancre Tor affected Julian and bound her more tightly to the Blades. I'm glad that you picked up on her sentiment regarding Valdemar. Roliand shares much in common with Destri's big Nord, so as he lingers in the land between the dead and the living, it should not be surprising that Julian would think of Valdemar and his curse. And yes, she is still struggling to hide (deny?) her feelings for the Blades Captain.

@Grits: You are so right about Ongar being the source of all the daedric armor on the damn marauders in the game! Of course he would not let an opportunity like this pass him by! Thanks for the nit, it's been fixed! And yes, the Blades will be moving on.

@SubRosa: I'm glad you liked meeting Dunore. He's a good man, but quite unused to the Blades armor. He now stands in the same place Julian once stood in just a few months ago - the newbie trying to fit in. Now it's Julian's turn to play the role of mentor and ease his transition from secret agent to Dragonguard. As for the connection between the CRT and Bruma that you and Acadian pointed out, it did not occur to me until the eighth or tenth playthrough that the CRT was placed beside Bruma for a reason, and that both are on the border to Skyrim for the same reason. But when you think about it, it makes perfect sense, considering that Tiber Septim is claimed as a son of Skyrim.

@McBadgere: I wanted to remind my readers of the purpose of those katanas hanging in the Hall of Blades. It makes perfect sense that our lost Blades would be remembered by those blades, especially by those who knew them.

The story so far: Julian has returned with the Amulet of Kings from Camoran's Paradise, and is now seeking much-needed rest. But first she must greet a couple of good friends before she can sleep.

********************
Chapter 32.2 A New Guilt

The barracks was quiet and warm. Only four of the beds were occupied. Cyrus and Belisarius snored softly on their adjacent bedrolls. Caroline lay a few spots away, her pillow pulled over her head. I smiled at the tableaux as I placed Touch in its spot on the weapons rack. Though I tried my best to maintain the silence, the mail cuirass made a soft slithering sound as I slipped out of it and hung it next to the rack.

A cold nose touched my palm. I looked down at Sai’s blue eyes. His white-tipped tail waved uncertainly until I rubbed his ears in silent greeting. My fingers slowed as my gaze drifted across the dimly lit barracks toward the long form against the far wall.

Captain Steffan lay on his right side, back to the room. The stillness of his body set off an alarm in my heart, until I saw his shoulders move slightly with a shallow breath. Still having trouble breathing with all the blood in his chest. Cirroc had advised me that it would take time for his body to resorb all the fluid shed into his internal cavities. Until then, breathing would be a struggle.

I looked back down at Sai still standing before me, at the blue eyes so like those of the other. The Skyrim Husky mix had stuck to Steffan’s side on the field and since our return to Cloud Ruler Temple. I had commanded him to remain with the Captain instead of accompanying me into Paradise. This time Sai had obeyed and stayed behind. He loves Steffan as much as I do. Only he is not bound by rules of rank and command. He is free to demonstrate his affection. For a moment I felt a twinge of jealousy, then shame at my weakness.

Silently I signaled Sai to return to Steffan’s side. Stay with him, keep him company. Don’t leave him alone. The dog floated obediently down the length of the barracks to take his place along Steffan’s back. I saw the white muzzle drop to white paws as I moved toward the bedroll next to Caroline.

Her face appeared from beneath the muffling pillow as I lay back and drew the blanket to my shoulders. “Welcome back, Julian,” she whispered. “Were you successful?”

I nodded, the exhaustion in my bones pressing my limbs toward the warmth of the hypocaust beneath the floorboards.

“I can see you’re tired, Julian,” Caroline murmured. “Good luck sleeping with that symphony of sawblades!”

With a chuckle at her pun, I turned my head left to catch the flash in her brown eyes. “It means they’re getting better, Caroline. They’ll be out tomorrow.”

“I wish I could say the same for myself,” Caroline hissed petulantly. “But Cirroc says I need a day longer.”

“At least it’ll be a day of peace,” I answered. “Take advantage of it while it lasts!”

“Oh, I intend to!” Caroline’s eyes grew somber as her gaze drifted past me toward the far wall. “That dog of yours has hardly left the Captain’s side. I hope Steffan finds his spirits soon enough.”

The snores from the opposite end of the room increased briefly in volume as one of the men shifted on his bedroll. Caroline hugged her pillow tighter over her head with a stifled groan. “Go to sleep, Julian!”

“I’ll try,” I responded. Unprompted, a memory of Jelin’s teaching surfaced in my fatigued mind. There is no try! Only do! He had told me that after knocking the Legion short sword out of my hand with nothing more than a flexible bamboo cane for the thirty-sixth time that day. All right, Jelin. I’ll do it. I’ll sleep. My eyes closed and Cloud Ruler Temple faded away.

“Who are you? You’re not one of us!” The man with the Redguard features appeared out of the darkness of the cave as I neared the bottom of the passage. He moved to stand in my way, his fists clenched.

Another, this one a Breton female, materialized at the Redguard’s shoulder. “You!” her voice crackled with hatred and fury. “You’re the one who sent us here!”

The Redguard’s eyes widened. “You are the Champion Mankar Camoran spoke of?”

“You know full well she is!” The Breton stepped past the Redguard and jabbed my Wolf with a sharp finger. “She killed many of us at Lake Arrius!”

“She didn’t send me here,” the Redguard shook his head, gently pushing the Breton aside. “I was killed at Kvatch - I never saw her there.”

Others crowded around us, murmuring among themselves. My right hand clenched on the hilt of Akatosh’s Touch as I heard the mingled hatred and regret in their voices. “I am Julian of Anvil,” I pitched my voice to cut through the mutterings. “But I do not know any of you.”

“We are the Ascended Immortals,” the Redguard spoke into the sudden silence. By the way the others listened to him and nodded assent, I gathered that he spoke for them, much as Boldon spoke for the people of Kvatch. “You knew us as the Mythic Dawn. We joined Mankar Camoran for the immortality he promised us.”

“Immortality!” the Breton woman scoffed. “Eternal torture is more like it!”

“We are immortal,” the Redguard admitted. “That much is true. But what Mankar Camoran failed to tell us is what we must endure here in his Paradise. Daedra hunt us and torture us. We suffer endless agony and cannot die.”

I winced at the bleak tone in the Redguard’s voice. “I am sorry to hear that, sir,” I said quietly. “But I saw some of your friends die -”

“No, it is not death that claims us,” the Redguard shook his head. “No, our bodies are destroyed, but our souls are reborn to begin the cycle all over again. We are helpless to stop it.”

“But we have Anaxes confined,” one of the others, an Imperial man, volunteered. “He is the worst of them. Our suffering is a little less for it.”

I swallowed. I needed to free this Anaxes in order to reach Carac Agaialor. The thought of turning him loose to harass these poor souls made the bile rise in my throat.

“It took us many weeks, and we died many times,” the Imperial man told me. “But we managed to trap him here, and now he hunts us no more.”

“But you are here for a reason, aren’t you?” The Redguard drew my attention back to him. “You are not one of us. Camoran did not bring you here, am I right?”

“You are correct,” I agreed. “I am sent here to recover the Amulet of Kings that Camoran holds. I must kill Camoran and destroy his Paradise.”

The faces around me brightened. “Destroy his Paradise -!” the Breton woman exclaimed softly. “If Paradise is destroyed, it could be the end of our suffering?”

The Redguard eyed me thoughtfully. “It could very well be,” he mused. As the other Immortals whispered and murmured among themselves, his dark gaze suggested the ticking of his mind. I realized that he had been a scholar in his previous life. “Yes, if Paradise is destroyed, our souls will be freed.” He straightened up, and his jaw firmed. “What can we do to help you accomplish your mission, Julian of Anvil?”

“I need to pass through the Forbidden Grotto,” I answered.

“Kathutet guards the Grotto,” the Imperial man spoke into the silence. “How will you get past him with just a thin katana?”

“Akatosh’s Touch has been proven against those such as he,” I answered. “But I wish to preserve its magic for what lies beyond.” I shook my head. “And Kathutet is quite powerful. I don’t have much time to waste in fighting him.”

“And you would risk much in fighting him,” the Redguard nodded. “So how would you get the Bands of the Chosen from him?”

“He has offered to give them to me,” I hated my decision. “If I perform a simple task for him.” I saw the dawning comprehension in the Redguard’s gaze as the others muttered their bemusement.

“Anaxes?” The Redguard’s question was the barest breath, intended for my ears only. Silently I nodded. He breathed deeply as tortured memories passed through his expression. Wordlessly, he jerked his chin toward the rear of the cave. In the shadows beyond the Immortals, I could see smoke drifting around a boulder, braced by heavy timbers. Then the Redguard was pushing his way through the Immortals, away from me.

“Fellow Immortals!” he shouted, drawing their attention after him. I recognized his attempt to distract the others from what I intended to do and closed my eyes briefly at the thought of his sacrifice. “The end of our suffering is near! Julian of Anvil will seek out Mankar Camoran and destroy him! Destroy Paradise, do you understand?”

While the others turned to listen to him, I faded into the shadows along the wall and moved toward the obstruction. The Redguard’s voice followed after me as I made my way to the rear of the cave. “Shall we help this Champion?” The roared assent startled me by its strength. “Then we must prepare ourselves for the ultimate sacrifice! We must support the Champion no matter what! Even if it means more torture!”

By now I had reached the bracing timbers. I glanced back across the cave to see the Redguard’s gaze on me. He nodded at me. One of the Immortals near the rear of the crowd glanced back and spotted me just as I reached for one of the timbers.

“No!” he shouted. “Don’t let Anaxes loose!” He began running toward me, and I swiftly kicked the heavy lumber out of alignment. With a groan the wood snapped and the boulder shifted alarmingly towards me. I leaped back just as the Immortal reached the stone. Helplessly he leaned his hands against it. “If I can just hold this -”

A muffled boom sounded from behind the boulder, and the heavy rock tumbled forward, crushing the hapless Immortal beneath it. Shouts and screams resounded across the cave as the others realized what I had done.

Several of the Immortals stepped toward me as I ran for the entrance. “No!” the Redguard thundered at them. “Let her go! Let her carry out her task! Run now! Run before Anaxes catches you!” He leaped toward me and waved the others toward the cave entrance. “The sooner the Champion kills Camoran, the sooner our souls will be free! GO!” He turned toward me as the others crowded for the passageway leading out onto the shore. His gaze moved past me and widened.

I glanced behind me to see the biggest xivilai ever stalking after me. His bare feet slapped the stone with heavy booms, yet he moved deceptively fast. I put on a burst of speed and ran past the Redguard.

He stepped before Anaxes. The xivilai picked him up in one hand and bit savagely into the side of the Redguard’s skull. A scream chased me out of the cavern. “Do not let us suffer any longer! Do not fail --!”

I followed the frantic Immortals out onto the sand. Gasping for breath, I looked ahead over the ocean, glowing softly in the perpetual sunrise. No, I will not fail.

The pearlescent light of Paradise faded away into the warm darkness of the old temple. I stared upward at the massive wooden beams supporting the second floor above us. Grief reared up yet again, this time for the poor souls trapped by Mankar Camoran’s lies and half-truths. Are they truly free? Or have they moved on to some other plane of Oblivion, doomed to an eternity of torture and rebirth?

[SubRosa]

So now we get to see Steffan again. Poor guy. Not only has he been grievously wounded, but his days as a warrior are now over. I do not envy him in the coming days, when he will be forced to reexamine his worth, and his future.

He loves Steffan as much as I do.
I see Julian is getting more and more comfortable with acknowledging her own feelings for Steffan.

So you did decide to recap the events in Paradise. I think that was a good idea to hold off on doing that until now. This way you have given us some time to slow down and take stock in between. Covering it all through flashbacks is classic H.E.R.. I swear I learned more about writing flashbacks from reading OHDH than any other source.

I always thought it was a very bitter irony that the dead members of the Mythic Dawn found that their paradise was actually an eternity of suffering. That was a good piece of writing on Bethesda's part, as it reveals the true natures and goals of both Mankar Camoran and his master. Their liberation is a lie, and their paradise a horror.

[Acadian]

Sai’s dedication to Steffan was touching and you used it effectively as a mirror to show us more of how Julian feels about her broken Captain.

I enjoyed how she handled Paradise. Julian managed to find quite a bit of sympathy for the Mythic Dawners as they endlessly lived and died with the consequences of their choices to follow Mankar Camaron. Your description of Anaxes getting free and the beginning of his rampage was chilling.

[Grits]

I love the way you presented part of the Paradise ordeal through a flashback. Julian’s reaction to the Ascended Immortals’ plight was very true to what we know of her. I enjoyed this update very much.

I was also pleased to see her put a name to her feelings for Steffan and the obstacle between them. The suspense is building for when Julian finally gets to speak with him.

[McBadgere]

Loved the flashback...Can't actually remember much of that section...Other than the droning on, of course... ...

Fantastically done...

Loved the bit in CRT...Always had a soft spot for Caroline...Long story...But aaamywho...

Brilliant chapter...

Nice one!!...

*Applauds heartily*...

[haute ecole rider]

@SageRosa: I agree that the bit about the fates of the Mythic Dawn members was brilliant on the part of Bethesda. I chose to highlight only that portion of the Paradise quest just for that reason - there is a morality and consequence to our choices.

@Acadian: Yes, Sai is an accurate mirror of Julian's feelings about her Captain. I'm glad that came across well.

@Grits: You won't have to wait much longer for the moment when Julian does speak to Steffan.

@McBadgere: I'm sorry to say that I've given Caroline short shrift here. She is quite the interesting person and I like her a great deal too.

The story so far: Julian has caught up on her sleep after the double-whammy of the Bruma battle and its aftermath and the long grind of Paradise. Now we see her keeping her promise to one of the newest additions to the Dragonguard.

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Chapter 32.3 What’s the Point?

“That should do it for now,” Baurus leaned back until the chair creaked under his armored bulk. “You’ve given us plenty to think about, Julian.”

I met his gaze. “I’m glad I could be of assistance to the Dragonguard.” I smiled. “Times like this, I wish I was joining you!”

The brilliant grin eased his haggard features. “Times like this, I wish you were one of us!” As quickly as it came, the smile disappeared and grief returned to Baurus’s eyes. “Yet you will be more useful to the Emperor elsewhere.”

I rose to my feet with a nod at Dunore and Ertius. “Right now I’d be more useful in the stables. The horses need care.”

“Thank you, Julian,” Dunore stood as well. “Your advice and tips will be helpful for us, I’m certain.”

“I hope so,” I nodded at Baurus, his chair still tipped back on its rear legs. “I learned as much from him, if not more, about how things are done in the Dragonguard!”

“But Captain Baurus is probably right,” the Imperial, olive-skinned and dark-haired like most Nibeneans, did not quite match Dunore’s height. “The Dragonguard needs to learn new tactics.”

“That’s why Grandmaster Jauffre asked the two of you to join me,” Baurus remained comfortable in his seat. “Your forester experience will be invaluable in the days to come.”

“I agree,” I clapped Baurus on the shoulder, then steadied him as the chair nearly tipped him backwards. “I will see all of you in the morning.”

I returned to the barracks first to claim my brown cloak. Just a couple of weeks to the winter solstice, the cold was unbearable to my Anvil blood. Even out in the snug stables I still felt the cold.

I found Cyrus and Belisarius finishing off the last of their dinner with Caroline. They greeted me warmly.

“Caroline tells me you were successful,” Cyrus shifted the sling over his shoulder as he looked up from the remains on his plate.

I stopped and knelt beside them. “Yes, I was. And Martin now wears the Amulet of Kings.”

“So it’s true then,” Belisarius wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Martin’s a true Dragonborn.”

“Did you ever doubt it?” Cyrus retorted. “With Julian and Grandmaster Jauffre vouching for him?”

“I don’t know that I ever vouched for him,” I shook my head. “I just took Grandmaster’s word for it.”

“But you’ve met Uriel Septim, didn’t you?” Caroline turned to me. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see his eyes, hear his voice in Martin?”

“Baurus certainly did,” Cyrus stated firmly. “And if any one of us knew Uriel as well as Baurus did, we would know beyond a doubt, too.”

“Now there is no doubt at all, is there?” I asked them. They shook their heads in unison. “Then be quiet and finish recovering. It’s time to put you back to work if you’re well enough to gossip.”

Caroline spluttered her klah over her tunic while Cyrus and Belisarius grinned unrepentantly. Futilely she wiped at the brown stains. Her hand slowed as she considered the hem of the white material.

The mood grew somber as I studied the focus of Caroline’s concentration. Tiny white flowers - edelweiss - sewn in fine silk gave the otherwise plain tunic an edge of feminine elegance.

Her black hair gleamed purple in the daylight from the clerestory windows. Jena sat cross-legged on the table beneath the hanging blades, a white padded tunic in her lap. One hand moved swiftly over the fabric, drawing thin white silk through the material. I moved closer to look at the design. Tiny entwined flowers took shape along the hem of the utilitarian item following the path of the needle.

Jena looked up with a smile, her hands pausing for a moment. “Hello Julian.”

“That’s pretty,” I gestured at the flowers. “I didn’t know you embroidered.”

Jena shrugged. “It’s something to relax.” She held up the tunic to the light. The white silk shimmered subtly against the sturdier linen fabric. “Caroline’s birthday is coming up, and I thought this would be a good present for her. She was complaining that she needed a new quilted tunic for the winter.”

“It’s a good idea, Jena,” I smiled at the thought.

“Yes, and edelweiss is her favorite flower. They bloom in our plaza every spring, when the snow melts from the stones.”

“I’m sure Caroline will love that tunic, Jena.”

The Imperial woman met my gaze. “If you like, I’ll put Akatosh’s Dragon on yours, to go with your tattoo.”

I blinked at her offer. “That would be -”

“I’ll do it, Julian,” Jena nodded to herself. “After all, we’re sisters, aren’t we?”

“I miss Jena,” Caroline murmured softly, bringing my thoughts back to the present. “I think of her every time I -” her voice broke. Belisarius lifted his left arm around her shoulders and hugged her close against his side.

Cyrus caught my glance. “How do you deal with losing your comrades, Julian?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t get any easier,” I answered. “No matter how many, it’s just as hard as the first time.” I took the pewter cup from Caroline’s hand and set it carefully on the tray between us. “I didn’t get to know my tironii as well as you have come to know your comrades, but I felt each death. Eventually one starts avoiding getting to know the young’uns. Makes their loss easier to bear. But only for a while.”

“How do you find the strength to go on?” Caroline whispered from behind her hands.

I swallowed. “You just do,” I said finally. “Give yourself time.” After a few moments’ silence, I rose to my feet. “I must tend to the horses.”

Sai glanced at me over his shoulder as I approached the far end of the barracks. Steffan sat slumped over his bowl, the spoon dangling from a slack hand. His own food dish empty, Sai turned his gaze back to the captain, pawing at his elbow and whining.

I had to admire the dog’s restraint. Though he could help himself to the savory stew in Steffan’s bowl, Sai instead seemed more concerned by the man’s apparent lack of interest in his nourishment. Once again I felt the sick feeling in my stomach at the reminder of my own despair not so long ago.

As I collected my brown wool cloak from its peg, I found myself moving to Sai’s side. His tail thumped gently on the floorboards as I knelt beside Steffan. “You need to eat, Captain,” I spoke softly, ruffling my fingers in the dog’s fur.

Steffan stirred and looked up at me. My jaw clenched involuntarily at the haunted expression in his gaunt face. After a breath, he looked away and set the spoon down beside his hip. Then he placed the bowl beside Sai's own. "He can have it - I'm not hungry," he murmured.

I drew breath against old memories. "Are you in pain, Captain?" I managed to keep my voice steady, but Sai still glanced at me in concern. "I can get you something for it -"

Steffan shook his head. "There is no point, is there? What good am I without a sword hand?" I stared at him, stunned.

"What good am I when I can't even walk?" My anger was clear in my tone. Florio leaned back in surprise. "I heard the immunes talking," I continued. "They say my knee will never heal, that I'll always be crippled. How can I train tironii when I can't even stand up?"

"There's more to life than being a pilus, Julian," Florio murmured. He reached for my shoulder, but I knocked his hand away. His eyes darkened and his lips thinned as I glared at him. "You're too smart and too talented to limit yourself to just fighting."

"Fighting's all I know," I growled at him. "And now I can't even do that. Get out. Go back to your cohort. Forget about me."

Florio rose to his feet. "I'll never forget you, Julian, nor will I forget what you taught me." He turned and walked away, leaving me alone in my agony and self-pity.

The old anger surged into my throat as I regarded Steffan. His eyes downcast, he cradled his stump against his ribs. Don't you dare follow the same path I did. Don't even start! "You still have your mind -" I began.

"What good am I," Steffan's gaze flared at me. "What kind of Captain would I make if I can't even fight anymore? What's left -"

The sound of my palm against his unshaven cheek cracked through the barracks. Steffan recoiled away from me, his face turned to the wall. Sai whined and squeezed between us, bodily pushing me away. "What good are you?" I repeated his words. "You are not the one laying in the Chapel of Talos unconscious with his body wasting away! You are not the one whose katana hangs in the Hall of Blades! So what if you're missing a hand? You still have your other one! Both your feet!" I drew breath to continue my tirade, but Steffan's gaunt profile stopped me. Who am I to scold my Captain like this? It should be Grandmaster Jauffre telling him this, not me! Grief choked my throat, silenced whatever I had left to say.

"Julian!" Martin's voice brought me to awareness of our surroundings. I glanced down the length of the room to see him standing next to the others, Jauffre and Baurus beside him. The shock in the Emperor's face was clear to see through the tears in my eyes.

Sudden shame at the loss of my self-control washed over me. I’ve let my feelings get in the way again. I surged to my feet and bolted for the door leading out into the courtyard.

Somehow I made it down the steep and icy stairs and out the gate. The others called, but my feet hit the mountain trail before hoofbeats caught up to me.

Blanco slid in front of me and blocked my forward descent. As I leaned against him, he whickered and blew into my neck. Again I heard Martin's voice, again shame spurred me to flee. I leaped onto Blanco's bare back and kneed him down the mountain trail. He sprang forward under my urging and flew along the cobblestones, his breath flowing back in streams of mist against my face. His mane stung my face, but not as hard as the cold air freezing the tears against my cheeks.

But no matter how fast he ran, Blanco could not outrun the turmoil of emotions that tore my soul apart. I leaned against his neck as he slowed to a stop beneath a towering pine near where the road bent south for Bruma. The cold seeped into my bones as I wept into Blanco's mane. He stood quietly, not moving a muscle as I gave in to grief, despair and shame.

[Acadian]

An emotional episode. Fabulous use of the embroidering flashback to remind us of Jena.

Then a bit of a dam burst as Julian unloaded on Steffan.

A constant quiet thread here was Julian’s halting progress throughout of ‘going to tend the horses’. Finally, she made it, only to have Blanco tending her. The stallion delivered Julian’s need for speed, but even that was not enough to soothe her troubled spirit.

[Grits]

What a lovely memory of Jena.

Julian’s emotions felt very real here, as did Steffan’s reaction to losing his hand. I remember his talks with Julian in happier times. There is more to him than fighting, too.

I’m intrigued to learn what plans Martin has for Julian. Her flashback to Florio’s words after her injury packed a lot into just a few lines, and now she’s been on both sides of that conversation. Though it seems that Florio did less smacking.

This episode is definitely one of my very favorites! (And now I really have a late-night hankering for CRT stew!)

[SubRosa]

So the new Dragonguard is taking a hard look at how it does things? That is a good idea, considering how badly things went with Uriel and his legitimate sons.

Just a couple of weeks to the winter solstice
This was a good way of telling us that it is early December umm, Evening Star.

The edelweiss designs in Caroline's tunic were a nice nod to Private Blithe in Band of Brothers. Tying it to a flashback of Jena was brilliant. Not only does it gives us a very vivid window into the grief that all are suffering, the edelweiss itself mimics its role in BoB, as a symbol of experience and survival. Just as Blithe picked the edelweiss from a dead German to show that he had seen the elephant and lived, so too does Caroline's tunic now become a symbol that she survived.

What good am I without a sword hand?
I have been waiting for that. Julian's own feelings made themself clear in her outburst. That was well done. Not only does she have her own love for the man driving her, but also her own fears and regrets from how poorly she handled being in the same position years ago.

[haute ecole rider]

@Acadian: I continue to try and hint at the richness of life that is Cloud Ruler Temple through these flashbacks. Even though half of our brave Blades are gone, their spirits are still very much a part of this story, much as Casnar, Rielus, Valdemar and Alain are part of it in spite of being dead for more than 400 years. I'm delighted that you picked up on the "going to tend the horses" bit. It is something Julian took on herself in Roliand's absence.

@Grits: Steffan's struggle is just my way of highlighting the true tragedy of war - it lies not in those who died, but in those who survived marked by it. If Roliand ever wakes up from his head injury, will he be the same Nord with the mischievous twinkle in his eye from before? I'm glad you felt that the emotions here felt real. I was worried that I might be over the top, but apparently not. As for Martin's plans for Julian, I wonder if we will ever find out, knowing how this story ends. And perhaps Florio oughta have done some smacking back then! Who knows, this story may not be written had he done so!

@SubRosa: TBH, I was not thinking of the edelweiss in BoB, but now that you point it out, I recall that little bit very clearly. I'm glad the edelweiss sang to you as it did - it did accomplish what I wanted it to do. And I'm glad you picked up on her fears for the good Captain.

The story so far: Still emotionally strung out by the battle of Bruma and the trip through Paradise, Julian has lost control of her feelings once again and has fled Cloud Ruler Temple to escape their power.

*****************************
Chapter 32.4 Rules and Regulations


"Julian." The quiet voice broke into my sobbing. Beneath me, Blanco swung his head right and whickered softly. I sensed Jasmine stop beside me, bumping noses with the stallion before rejecting his amorous advances yet again.

I straightened up and turned my head away, sniffling and wiping away the frozen fluids on my face. "I - I don't feel like talking now, Sire," I murmured when I found my voice again. "I'm sorry."

"Is that how you treated your tironii when they were wounded and hurting?" Somehow Martin's voice lacked the censure of his words. "Handle them harshly to toughen them up?"

I couldn't find the words to answer that question, so I only shook my head.

"I always thought you got on well with Captain Steffan," he continued after a moment. "It seemed to me that you held a great deal of respect for him. That's why I was surprised to see you strike him like that."

"I was disappointed in him," I said finally. "Disappointed, and afraid for him."

"Afraid?" Martin repeated. "Afraid how?"

"Steffan - " I stopped and took a shaky breath. "Captain Steffan was speaking of being useless without a sword hand. Of having nothing to live for."

"That's a normal reaction, I think," Martin nudged Jasmine closer to us. I felt something soft drape across my shoulders and looked down to see my brown wool cloak. I realized that I had left it beside Steffan’s bedroll. My hands came up to pull it across my body. "It's quite a shock to lose some part of yourself."

I shook my head. "It's more than that," I murmured.

"How so, Julian?"

"That was me, laying there in that bed," the words spilled out before I could stop them. "Not so long ago, when I was crippled and in so much pain. When I looked at the end of my Legion career and realized I had nothing left to live for." My voice caught, and I shook the tears from my eyes violently. "When I started down that awful path of drink and skooma and loneliness -" I couldn't speak any more and covered my face with my hands.

"That's what you are afraid of?" Martin's voice held a gentleness that warmed the chill in my bones. "That Captain Steffan would travel down that path? That he would disappoint you?" I couldn't answer him, but I knew he understood. "I don't think he will go that way. He just needs time to come to grips with what has happened. And he needs the support of all of us."

"He is pushing us away," I whispered. "Even Sai. It's what I did. I turned my back on those who were closest to me. I gave up. And I'm afraid that is what Ste- Captain Steffan is doing." I lowered my hands and met Martin's gaze. "And I don't know how to stop him from going down that road!" In spite of my attempt at self-control, that last bit came out as a wail.

The stunned expression in his face took my breath away. He regarded me silently, his hazel eyes wide. Finally he looked away with a deep breath. "You feel a great deal more than just respect for Captain Steffan, don't you, Julian?"

I felt heat rise in my cheeks as I looked away and mumbled something. Is it so obvious? Do the others know? Akatosh, what do I do now?

"Don't tell me you won't admit it?" Martin's tone now held disbelief. "You've always been so straightforward and honest. Why not tell Steffan that you love him? It might just be what he needs to hear the most right now."

How to explain things to him? "There is a rule in the Legion," I murmured, my voice shaking a little. "No fraternization between officers and subordinates."

"Fraternization?" Martin repeated, his voice incredulous. "Is that what you describe your feelings for the Captain as?" I did not answer, only patted Blanco's mane smooth against his neck. Martin was silent for a few breaths. "Julian, I understand what the rule says, but I fail to see the reason for it." Now I heard that edge of command. "Explain."

"There are several reasons, actually," I answered. "If an officer and a subordinate have an affair, and it turns sour, there can be loss of respect between the two. Such lack of respect can lead to insubordination, and that can result in unnecessary loss of life on the battlefield. Alternatively, the one may make the decision to keep the other from carrying out duties that can lead to personal harm and potential loss of the partner."

"Somehow I think the both of you are too professional for that," Martin said. "I can see young recruits making those kinds of mistakes, but soldiers of your age and experience?"

"Emotions are powerful things, Sire," I said. "They can get in the way of carrying out the mission." I met his gaze again. "I almost failed you, Sire."

"What?" Martin's brows rose above startled eyes. "When?"

"When that dremora cut off Steffan's hand," I managed to keep my voice steady. "I forgot about the Great Sigil stone. All I could think of was stopping his bleeding, his agony." I closed my eyes against that terrifying moment. "It was Steffan who pushed me away, who ordered me to carry out my orders."

Martin considered my words thoughtfully. “So you are a woman after all, Julian.” It was spoken so softly that I questioned my hearing. Then his voice firmed. “I don’t doubt you would have done the same, if the tables had been reversed.” He turned his face away, and his eyes focused on something in the distance.

I looked in that direction. From our place beneath the lone pine, we could look across tumbled boulders toward the Plain of Caribou. Fires still littered its surface - atronach flesh was capable of burning for days. The remains of the four Gates gleamed softly, and the broken siege engine held its own infernal glow.

“Do you understand the rule now, Sire?” I brought myself back to the present.

“Yes, I do,” Martin said after a moment. “But you’re not in the Legion anymore, and I wonder if Legion rules should be applied to the Blades.”

“Why not?” I glanced at him. “The Blades is a military organization -”

“Not exactly,” Martin shook his head. “I think Grandmaster Jauffre can explain better than I, but the Blades is not strictly military. For that reason one can not extrapolate proper Legion protocol to the Blades.”

“That may be so,” I shrugged. “But our primary loyalty is to the Emperor, which means you, Sire. We can’t let our emotions cloud our judgment or subvert that loyalty.”

“Do you realize why the Legion has rules, Julian?” Martin’s tone became inquisitive. “It’s because the Legion takes young people, almost children in many ways, and teaches them responsibility and care for each other and for the Empire. Hardly any whole body who wants to join is turned away. But the selection process for the Blades is far more discriminating. You volunteer for the Legion, but the Blades choose you. And because of the caliber of the people chosen by the Blades, such rules as those found in the Legion become redundant, even unnecessary.”

I remained silent. What is he trying to tell me? That there are no rules at all in the Blades? But that doesn’t make sense! How does one know how to behave in the Blades?

“Julian, I -” Martin trailed off uncertainly. I glanced at him when he did not continue. His face was turned to the Plain below us, his shoulders slumped. After a few misty breaths, he straightened his spine and gathered Jasmine’s reins. “I depart in two days for the Imperial City,” command chilled his tone. “Get plenty of rest. Don’t stay out here too long.”

Momentarily unbalanced by the abrupt change in his mood, I watched as Martin kneed Jasmine around her hocks and set her clip-clopping back up the road to Cloud Ruler Temple. Blanco watched her go with a soft whicker, but did not move to follow her.

“Yes, Sire,” I whispered after Martin’s departing back.

[SubRosa]

So Martin himself went after Julian? Oh my. As embarrassing as it must be for Julian, it is quite the statement that she has an Emperor chasing after her to make sure she is alright. Not many people can boast of that. The Son's Companion indeed.

Following was an interesting and intriguing discussion on not only the need to curb sexual relations between officers and grunts, but also an insightful look at the differences between the legion and blades.

An interesting thing to note is that in Ancient Greece sexual relations between soldiers was not only unremarkable, but encouraged, and in Sparta mandatory. The Sacred Band of Thebes is probably the most notable and famous example. They believed that it strengthened the bonds between men. The thinking was that what man would flee, if his lover was standing in line beside him?

Now that is not the same as Julian's situation though. So do not think I am criticizing. The Ancient Greeks were not nearly as professional as you portray the Legion or the Blades. Not even the Spartans were. They were exceedingly tough, but that is not the same thing. The Legion's problem is not someone running away in battle, but people actually leaving someone behind so that they can keep going on to do their jobs. Just like Julian's situation during the battle when Stef was wounded. Not to mention the usual issues of nepotism. I think the Greeks just expected the latter to happen no matter what, so did not even try to make an attempt at treating common soldiers fairly or evenly.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Sep 26 2012, 04:46 PM

[Grits]

Martin not only riding after Julian but bringing her cloak showed a great deal of care and attention. I wonder if the new emperor himself doesn’t have a bit more than respect for Julian.

I love the discussion of Blades contrasted with Legion. That Julian is left to puzzle things out for herself rather than being read title, chapter, and section of some regulation is an illustration of just what Martin was telling her.

This episode left me considering possibilities right along with Julian.

[Acadian]

An interesting discussion as Martin forces Julian to reexamine things she thinks she knows through the filter of how it might apply to her brother/sisterhood of knights.

Martin’s abrupt change in mood could mean several things and I enjoyed that you, at least at this point, left that open. As Grits mentioned, it could reflect that he harbors feelings for Julian himself. Or perhaps he simply felt enough had been said and wanted Julian to connect the dots regarding Steffan. My gut tells me however, that he is his father’s son and is foreshadowing the cost of his own imminent future.

I also enjoyed that, despite the intensity of the scene between Julian and her Emperor, both horses played a role that you did not neglect.

[ghastley]

That there are no rules at all in the Blades? But that doesn’t make sense! How does one know how to behave in the Blades?

She's on the brink of understanding that if one does not know how to behave, one is not chosen for the Blades. I suspect that part of it is a "If I don't know, follow the rules" safety net that she's reluctant to discard, and she just has to notice that she has enough judgement now to make her own when she needs them.

But now she has direct permission from the Emperor to deal appropriately with Steffan, so she doesn't have to get past that. It can catch up later.

But she's only got two days to get started!

[haute ecole rider]

@SubRosa: Yes, Son's Companion indeed! I wanted to play up the differences between the Legion as a place where one learns to be a responsible adult, and the Blades as the place where one goes once one becomes a responsible adult. I'm glad you liked the discussion of the differences between the two.

@Grits: I imagine the new Emperor still considers Julian his friend. After all, it hasn't been that long since she came to him in the ruins of Kvatch and changed his life forever. In giving him new purpose in going on, she has been steadfastly loyal to him. Having been raised a commoner's son, it's logical to me that Martin would return the same care and loyalty Julian has shown him. But you're right to wonder . . .

@Acadian: Horses have a way of inserting themselves into any situation. Anyone who has lived and worked with horses can not fail to miss that tendency. As for that abrupt change in mood, well, I suppose the cause for that remains to be seen. And yes, Julian needs to discard some old ways of thinking. It will be an ongoing process for her, especially in LBMQ.

@ghastley: You are remarkably observant in your comment about Julian needing to discard the rules safety net and to trust her own well-honed judgment. She hasn't yet reached the point Special Agent Gibbs has (with his Rules)!

The story so far: Julian finally admits to someone other than herself that she loves her Captain. Now they have to move on to the Imperial City and Martin's destiny as Emperor of Tamriel.

*******************
Chapter 33.1 A New Kit

“Good morning, Julian,” Grandmaster Jauffre’s gruff tone pulled my attention from the mailed cuirass on the armory rack. I glanced at him over my shoulder, then reached for a rag to wipe my oily hands. Jauffre set the laden tray on the rough table near the forge’s heat. “It’s breakfast time. We have a long, cold road ahead of us.”

Jauffre drew back the linen napkin covering the tray. He laid out the plates and cutlery in two place settings. I looked again at him as he poured the steaming klah from the pitcher. What is he trying to accomplish? The last two nights were spent in restless sleep, and the days in preparing the horses and myself for the trip to the Imperial City. Up early again today, I had set to oiling the enchanted cuirass again, ensuring that no rust had taken hold of its much-repaired links. In keeping myself busy, I had managed to avoid Captain Steffan and the other Blades.

“Eat up,” he said, not meeting my gaze. He seated himself first and began spooning the cooked eggs onto the plates. I reached for the klah and sipped at the bitter liquid, welcoming its heat. After another moment’s hesitation, I seated myself opposite the Grandmaster.

Jauffre did not speak as he laid strips of smoked boar and warm bread coated with honey on my plate. I watched bemusedly as he paused to mumble grace, then began to eat. After a couple of mouthfuls, he pointed his utensil at my plate. “Eat,” he said again around a mouthful of food. “We leave soon.”

“Yes, sir,” I followed his command somewhat reluctantly. We ate in silence for several moments. When Jauffre had cleared the last crumbs from his plate, he lowered his utensil. His eyes met mine as he set his elbows on the table, hands resting on each other before his face.

“How are the horses, Julian?”

“They’re nearly ready to go,” I answered, gulping down the last of my meal. “Saddling them will be quick work.”

“Good,” Jauffre took a sip of his klah. “Martin Septim wants to leave before the sun clears Gnoll Mountain. You’ve got about a bell to get ready.”

“I am ready, sir,” I followed suit with my own cup. “I stowed and shined my gear last night.”

“You will wear the Kvatch mail still?” Jauffre tipped his head at the cuirass gleaming softly in the glow from the banked forge. “Ferrum tells me it is very worn and damaged.”

“It is still suitable, sir,” I shook my head. “And I continue to honor the Kvatch guard as long as I wear it.”

Jauffre set his mug down, his downturned gaze pensive. “Ferrum told me you would say as much. But what of Leyawiin? You took them under your wing before the battle. Because of your actions, some of the Leyawiin guard live to return to their homes. What of Bravil? They came to Bruma because of you. And Skingrad? Anvil? Cheydinhal? Chorrol?”

“They came at the Countess’s request,” I avoided Jauffre’s sharp glance. “I was just the messenger.”

“Just a messenger?” Jauffre repeated. “You are now hailed as Hero of Bravil, of Cheydinhal, of Skingrad and Anvil and Chorrol. Leyawiin has created you a Knight, however ersatz that may be. And Bruma is calling you their Savior.”

“Martin Septim saved Bruma,” I heard the stubborn tone in my voice. “He and all the Guards.”

“Martin Septim is recognized as Emperor,” Jauffre countered. “And the Emperor outranks even the Savior of Bruma.” His tone turned ironic. “Julian, I know you are not one to hold yourself above your station. However, you’ve come far since the sick addict that walked into Weynon Priory and handed over the Amulet of Kings more than three months ago.”

I sighed. “No, I’m not the same person that Uriel Septim charged with that mission,” I admitted. “I’ve done things I’m not proud of -” my thoughts went to the fluffy sheep of Border Watch and the damned Immortals, “and failed at promises I’ve made,” this time I thought of Ursanne Loche, left alone in her upper-story hovel.

“And yet through it all you’ve kept the most important promise you made - the one to Uriel Septim. What did he call you, shortly before he died?”

I flinched again. “Sun’s Companion.” The words came reluctantly.

“Or Son’s Companion?” Jauffre asked. “Why do you feel obligated to follow Martin Septim and carry out his requests? I’ve never ordered you as a Blade to do so.”

Silently I regarded the remains of the klah in my cup. Why indeed? Why not? It’s not like I had other obligations. The Legion is in my past, as is Anvil. But now I have new friends, and adopted family back in Anvil. Now I have a future of sorts, with the Mages Guild. Now I have hope for finding purpose for my life. So why continue serving Martin Septim?

“Uriel gave me one last order before he died,” I said finally. “Close shut the jaws of Oblivion. I thought at first he meant close Oblivion Gates. But now I realize, he meant for me to see his last surviving son light the Dragonfires and take the Ruby Throne as his rightful heir.”

Jauffre rose to his feet and began gathering the remains of the breakfast onto the platter. “Julian, you have served well as an agent of the Blades. But now, I am reassigning you temporarily to the Dragonguard. As such, you must put on the Dragonscale armor and place yourself under Captain Baurus’s command.” His hands stilled on the stacked dishes. “Ferrum will kit you out.”

My gaze moved involuntarily toward the mail cuirass, its Wolf surcoat frayed at the hems and seams. It was difficult to swallow the walnut in my throat, but I knew better than to protest a direct order. “Yes, Grandmaster,” I said finally.

“See you in half a bell,” Jauffre picked up the platter and left the armory. I turned toward the cabinet where the Blades armor was stored.

Ferrum found me regarding the various pieces in some dismay. “I take it Jauffre gave you your instructions?”

I nodded. “But how are you going to kit me out in less than half a bell?”

“Easy,” Caroline appeared from behind him. “We already put your kit together last night. Ferrum’s been working on your own Dragonscale armor, and I’ve been putting together the rest.” In her arms she carried a bundle of white quilted material. “Shall we get started?”

“I suppose,” I stepped back from the cabinet and turned toward the forge. Ferrum moved to the opposite corner where a draped armor stand hunched in the shadows. He pulled the woolen cloth away to reveal the blue-and-gold enamel of the Dragonscale cuirass. Its burnished surface gleamed softly in the glow from the forge and drew me toward it.

“I used your leathers,” Ferrum’s voice held pride at his handiwork. “Took the measurements from them and made this to fit you. Every time I repaired your mail, I looked at how the undertunic was wearing out and adjusted the armor accordingly. You’ll find that even though you’re more fit since you put those leathers aside, this will fit you well enough.”

I approached the stand with something close to awe in my heart. My eyes caressed the gleaming surface of the Dragonscale. Something on the right breast caught my attention. I looked closer, and gasped when I recognized the Kvatch Wolf looking back at me. I reached out with shaking fingers and touched the medallion, smaller than the cup of my palm, set into the right breast of the armor.

“Grandmaster Jauffre approved the modifications,” Ferrum said. “I knew you would always want to carry the Wolf with you, just as you have kept the Dragon on your shield arm.”

“There’s more,” Caroline’s voice reached me from behind. I nodded in amazement as my eye caught two other medallions, each the size of my thumbprint. on the left breast. Anvil and Bravil. Leyawiin’s white stallion sparkled from the left pauldron, while Bruma’s yellow and brown falcon sigil gleamed from the right. On the left vambrace grew the Great Oak of Chorrol, resplendent in white on blue. The entwined vines of Cheydinhal rested next to the twin moons of Skingrad on the right vambrace.

Tears stung my eyes as I considered the amount of thought and work that went into creating this armor. “I - I don’t know what to say,” I said finally. “I’ve never had armor custom-made for me.” I realized that the Wolf tingled beneath my fingers.

“Martin Septim enchanted each of those sigils before they were set,” Ferrum’s soft voice continued. “Each according to the traits of the city’s Divine. Akatosh for speed, Dibella,” he touched Anvil’s sigil, “for love, Mara for compassion.” Now he touched Leyawiin, “Zenithar for luck, and Talos for strength,” his hand brushed the brown falcon. “And Stendarr for endurance, Julianos for wisdom, and Arkay for health.”

Stunned, I could only move my fingers from one medallion to the next, feeling the flicker of magic in each. “This is incredible,” I whispered. “I will wear this with pride. Thank you very much, Ferrum.”

As Ferrum inclined his head in acceptance of my gratitude, Caroline pushed the bundle into my hands. I looked down to recognize the quilted tunic the Blades wore beneath their cuirasses.

“Tomorrow’s your birthday,” Caroline’s eyes became watery. “Jena would have wanted you to have this.”

I shook out the folds and held the tunic up by its shoulders. My breath stopped at the subtle glory of the Dragon, embroidered in white silk and fine detail across the linen front. I recognized the warm tingle of frost shield magic in its fabric. Jena’s promise whispered in my ear as I gave up my struggle to keep the tears back.

Caroline reached up to wipe my tears away. “It’s time, Julian,” she said softly. Silently I nodded and handed the tunic back to her.

With the help of both Caroline and Ferrum, it took a short time to don my full Blades kit. The tunic lay soft against my skin, and the white flames of the Dragon’s breath warmed my heart. The Dragonscale armor rested easily on my frame, with no pinching or looseness. The full quality of Ferrum’s work became evident after a few practice movements from the Sunbird Dance. The armor, though solid in weight, moved with my body much like chain mail, with none of the constriction I had experienced with Legion plate.

Ferrum clapped my shoulder as Caroline buckled Akatosh’s Touch around my waist. “You truly look like the Emperor’s Champion!” His gaze grew pensive. “I wish I was coming with you, Julian. But I must stay behind and act in Captain Steffan’s stead until he recovers.”

“And because he’s acting commander of Cloud Ruler Temple,” Caroline added waspishly, her brown eyes sparkling, “I have to stay behind to make sure he doesn’t fetch up!”

This post has been edited by haute ecole rider: Oct 3 2012, 07:21 PM

[SubRosa]

you’ve come far since the sick addict that walked into Weynon Priory and handed over the Amulet of Kings more than three months ago.
Has it only been 3 months? It seems like years have passed. Well, maybe in the writing! Still, in all seriousness this one line encapsulates the tremendous development that Julian has undergone since the beginning of your tale.

So it took Jauffre officially transferring Julian to the Dragonguard to get her into a Blades cuirass. It is about time! The addition of the Kvatch Wolf was an excellent touch. So were the insignia's of the other cities. That was a very touching scene between Julian, Caroline, and Ferrum as Julian donned her new armor. And an equally poignant memory of Jena as Julian accepted her new tunic.

Soon we will be off to the Imperial City then. And to destiny.

This post has been edited by SubRosa: Oct 3 2012, 08:48 PM

[ghastley]

But I must stay behind and act in Captain Steffan’s stead until he recovers. - at least someone has confidence that Steffan's coming out of this. I hope Julian noticed.

Dragonscale armor? Is that what we know as the Blades armor, or a step up for the Dragonguard? Obviously Julian's is bit extra-special, but is that on top of a higher base?

[Acadian]

Thanks for a wonderful hot breakfast!

Julian has certainly got her septims’ worth in mileage out of that Kvatch cuirass but wow! A snazzy new set of armor and beautiful tunic for underneath. I really like the look of the Blades armor. How neat to include each of the cities. I wonder how she'll react if she ever earns a set of Imperial Dragon Armor?

“And because he’s acting commander of Cloud Ruler Temple,” Caroline added waspishly, her brown eyes sparkling, “I have to stay behind to make sure he doesn’t fetch up!”
What a delightful finish to such a poignant episode!