Several days after their return to Haven, Khari still hadnât seen much of Rom.
It wasnât exactly unexpected; he didnât tend to be the most active of social butterflies, to put it one way. But he wasnât usually completely absent, either. Before she decided if this represented some kind of problem or not, she figured sheâd just take the direct approach, and go see him. Even if he wasnât around, it wasnât difficult to guess where heâd be, and so that afternoon, she elected to head for the Chantry basement again. This time, she had bounty in tow, so to speak: a couple of cloth-wrapped sandwiches were tucked under her arm, and she gripped a three-quarters-full bottle of wine by the neck, because someone had left it laying around after a meal and she figured they probably wouldnât miss it. He seemed to be okay with sharing her food, and Khari just liked to eat anyway, so it was in some sense the best of all arrangements: the kind where everybody won.
As ever, she made no secret of her presence, though in the absence of the need for armor, she wasnât wearing any. Her plain grey shirt was loose enough that she was nearly swimming in it. It fell halfway down her legs, though sheâd cut and hemmed slits in the sides to allow her free motion. Sheâd also bound down the loose fabric at her forearms, to keep it out of the way, and tied a sash at her waist, but it was still almost comically-proportioned. Which made sense, since it was made for a man, a human one at that. Her hood was gone, too, her thick braid pulled over one shoulder, and her boots were softer, well-crafted, but not armored. Her mother had made them for someone else, but they were the right size, at least.
Rom was slightly bent over a worktable, the complex setup of alchemy equipment a dead giveaway as to why. She smiled to herself at the sight of the various brightly-colored liquids. She didnât know what any of them were, of course, but that wasnât important. âHey, stranger. Dâyou have time for a lunch break, or should I leave the mad alchemist to his concoctions?â
Romulus held up a vial to the torchlight, which was probably not adequate for such work, but by the way he'd been deftly maneuvering both the ingredients and the equipment, he hardly needed any light at all for this sort of thing. The liquid inside was turquoise, and seemed to radiate its own light. He frowned at it, shaking it in the vial gently and waiting a few seconds. Grunting to himself in displeasure, he took hold of the vial's bottom and discarded the liquid inside with a flick. It hissed quietly when it splashed against the hay strewn across some of the floor, but soon fell silent.
He set the vial back down on his worktable, stepping away from it a few paces and removing the thin leather gloves he wore. He tossed them onto the table, and then rubbed at his eyes, blinking obvious weariness. "Not here. Upstairs, at least. I... should probably take a break."
âYeah, you look like it.â Her reply was blunt as ever, but then, she didnât think he cared, which was nice. âCome on then, letâs get you some sunlight or something.â She turned neatly on her heel and led the way up the stairs, pausing for a moment to allow him to take up his cloak, which he might need. It was a comparatively warm day in Haven, which just meant that she didnât feel like she was going to lose her fingers every time she braved the outdoors.
By lucky circumstance, the tent areas immediately in front of the Chantry werenât currently occupied, though the campfire still burned, which Khari had to admit would help with the chill, so she headed over that way and parked herself on one of the roughly-hewn logs that served as a bench, and tossed one of the sandwiches in his general direction. He had good reflexes, so she couldnât imagine him not catching it with such an easy lob. âI know you hate the cold, so. Fire, and wine.â She held up the bottle and swished it from side to side, before taking the cork out with her teeth and setting the thing down in between them. She didnât have enough hands for glasses, too, but she wasnât picky enough to be bothered by sharing, and sheâd be surprised if he were, either.
Stretching her feet out in front of her towards the fire, she hummed her contentment at the sensation of it warming her toes first, then unwrapped her sandwich in her lap. âDidnât know what you liked on yours, so I made it like mine: a bunch of everything. Hope thatâs okay.â
"I've never been picky with food." Romulus sat down, a slight groan escaping him, evidence that he'd been standing too long, likely in one spot. Rather than sit on the log, he sat on the ground, and put his back against the log, which he propped an arm upon, while the other raised the sandwich to his mouth for a first bite. Once it was down, he switched the food for drink, and took a long swig from the wine bottle. After he'd put it back between them, he decided to pull up his hood, and sink a little lower against the log.
"Thank you," he said, a bit late, if it was the food he was thanking her for. "I don't think I remember to say it enough. You're thoughtful. I needed... I don't know. Dealing with Redcliffe has been..." Evidently tired of cutting off his own thoughts, Romulus silenced himself, and took another bite instead, staring into the fire.
He exhaled through his nose, taking several deep breaths. "I'd never seen a friend die until recently."
Khari finished chewing over her own bite of sandwich before replying, though she might not have done quite enough, because it hurt a little on the way to her guts, and she grimaced, reaching for the wine bottle and washing the food down with several deep swallows. She liked the little bite on her tongue that alcohol had, though since sheâd been introduced to the concept of imbibing, sheâd preferred her beverages a bit stronger than wine. Still, it was lunch, not a night at the bar, so this was fine. She set it down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, which also gave her some time to think about what he said. Khari didnât really believe she was all that thoughtful, exactlyâthat seemed like an adjective for more complicated people. But she didnât try to deflect his thanks, either.
âYou want to talk about it? Canât say Iâve got a lot of experience with that, either. Never had a lot of friends.â It was a mere statement of fact, and she delivered it like one. Nobody had really told her much about the whole âfutureâ thing, which was fine by her because it had to be way above her pay grade, but it sounded like it had been a pretty nasty business, if someone had died. Good thing it wasnât the real future. Or, well⊠whatever.
Romulus cocked his head to the side, watching the fire but seeing something else in his mind. "The magister's spell sent us a year and a half or so into the future. I don't claim to understand it, but... imagine the worst nightmare you could possibly place yourself in, and then make it entirely real." He paused, long enough to get some more of the wine. He wasn't draining the entire bottle or anything, but most of his bites were chased by it.
"The Venatori controlled the castle. Many were dead, some had been prisoners for months. You were one of them. We found you and Zahra in a torturer's chamber." Another pause. It was possible he was deliberating whether or not to continue, or perhaps he was just working up the strength to do it. "You'd lost one of your arms at the elbow. One of your eyes was useless. Every inch of you, carved into carelessly. I don't even know what they could have wanted from you. Perhaps they simply enjoyed inflicting pain." He spoke the last words with disgust, as he did for the next that followed.
"You distracted the torturer when we entered. I ambushed him from behind. Hacked his head off in four strikes. Inaccurate cuts, so he'd feel it before the end." He rolled his neck around until it popped, and he rubbed at his eyes again.
"Despite all of that, you were still you, for the most part."
âHuh.â If there were words made for this kind of situation, Khari sure as hell didnât know what they were. Instead, she let it sink in for a while, making her way through her sandwich. For the most part, she stared into the fire while she ate, trying to get a sense for what heâd seen. It was probably impossibleâmaybe that would just be something only the three of them would ever really understand. Hopefully, she wouldnât learn it because it came to pass, at any rate.
She was a bit happy to learn sheâd still been mostly herself, though, even after all that. It might have even been reassuring. Khari had always been fierce in her independence, and in her desire to stay true to who she was, though figuring that out had been quite difficult at various points in her life, and she suspected it would be again, someday. âGood to know I was still an angry nuisance even after the world went to shit. Less good to know that it went there in the first place. Probably we oughta, I dunno, not let that happen this time, or something.â
She frowned for a moment. âDid I die, then? In that future?â
"None of you could come back with us. So while Cyrus prepared the spell, you held off the Venatori with Asala, Zahra, and Vesryn. Kept them out of the throne room." He brought his hand up, touching two fingers to a point on his stomach. "When the door burst open, you had a sword in your guts. Whoever put it there lost an arm for it. But you fell after that. All four of you died, so that we could leave." He swallowed another gulp of wine, grimacing as though the drink or maybe the words had left a bitter taste on his tongue.
"You asked me to remind you, that even if all of this goes wrong again, that you're still... awesome, I think was the word. Said you forget that occasionally."
Despite what was perhaps a grave situation, Khari laughed, completely unashamed of it. Who would care, anyway? And if someone did, well, they could fuck off. She took in a hard breath afterwards, trying to regain the air required to breathe normally, and slid off the log to plant her rear on the ground. âSounds like me, all right.â Her eyes narrowed with evident mirth, and the grinned at him. âReally kind of weird when youâre the one saying it, though.â It was definitely the sort of word sheâd throw around carelessly, where as he seemed so much more deliberate than she was.
She sobered herself as well as she could though, the second bit striking her only when the humor from the first had receded. Then her breath transmuted to a sigh, and she shook her head. âMustâve been pretty dire, if I was bothering you with that crap, though.â She wasnât in the practice of making her self-evaluations a public matter, to anyone, and frankly, she was slightly ticked that she, or some version of her, had done it. Though it wasnât like that was his fault.
âBut⊠thanks for reminding me.â
"You're welcome." Rom's reply was a bit subdued, but then again, he'd been growing steadily more subdued for some time. He'd reacted slightly to a few of her laughs, showing the tiniest signs of his own smile, but they were soon enough smothered away. He clambered to his feet, brushing the dirt and snow from his legs.
"And thanks for lunch. I should get back to it." What exactly it entailed was unclear, but probably had something to do with chemical experimentation by torchlight.
âNo problem.â Her reply was easy, and she lifted a hand by way of parting gesture. âGood luck down there.â
It wasnât exactly unexpected; he didnât tend to be the most active of social butterflies, to put it one way. But he wasnât usually completely absent, either. Before she decided if this represented some kind of problem or not, she figured sheâd just take the direct approach, and go see him. Even if he wasnât around, it wasnât difficult to guess where heâd be, and so that afternoon, she elected to head for the Chantry basement again. This time, she had bounty in tow, so to speak: a couple of cloth-wrapped sandwiches were tucked under her arm, and she gripped a three-quarters-full bottle of wine by the neck, because someone had left it laying around after a meal and she figured they probably wouldnât miss it. He seemed to be okay with sharing her food, and Khari just liked to eat anyway, so it was in some sense the best of all arrangements: the kind where everybody won.
As ever, she made no secret of her presence, though in the absence of the need for armor, she wasnât wearing any. Her plain grey shirt was loose enough that she was nearly swimming in it. It fell halfway down her legs, though sheâd cut and hemmed slits in the sides to allow her free motion. Sheâd also bound down the loose fabric at her forearms, to keep it out of the way, and tied a sash at her waist, but it was still almost comically-proportioned. Which made sense, since it was made for a man, a human one at that. Her hood was gone, too, her thick braid pulled over one shoulder, and her boots were softer, well-crafted, but not armored. Her mother had made them for someone else, but they were the right size, at least.
Rom was slightly bent over a worktable, the complex setup of alchemy equipment a dead giveaway as to why. She smiled to herself at the sight of the various brightly-colored liquids. She didnât know what any of them were, of course, but that wasnât important. âHey, stranger. Dâyou have time for a lunch break, or should I leave the mad alchemist to his concoctions?â
Romulus held up a vial to the torchlight, which was probably not adequate for such work, but by the way he'd been deftly maneuvering both the ingredients and the equipment, he hardly needed any light at all for this sort of thing. The liquid inside was turquoise, and seemed to radiate its own light. He frowned at it, shaking it in the vial gently and waiting a few seconds. Grunting to himself in displeasure, he took hold of the vial's bottom and discarded the liquid inside with a flick. It hissed quietly when it splashed against the hay strewn across some of the floor, but soon fell silent.
He set the vial back down on his worktable, stepping away from it a few paces and removing the thin leather gloves he wore. He tossed them onto the table, and then rubbed at his eyes, blinking obvious weariness. "Not here. Upstairs, at least. I... should probably take a break."
âYeah, you look like it.â Her reply was blunt as ever, but then, she didnât think he cared, which was nice. âCome on then, letâs get you some sunlight or something.â She turned neatly on her heel and led the way up the stairs, pausing for a moment to allow him to take up his cloak, which he might need. It was a comparatively warm day in Haven, which just meant that she didnât feel like she was going to lose her fingers every time she braved the outdoors.
By lucky circumstance, the tent areas immediately in front of the Chantry werenât currently occupied, though the campfire still burned, which Khari had to admit would help with the chill, so she headed over that way and parked herself on one of the roughly-hewn logs that served as a bench, and tossed one of the sandwiches in his general direction. He had good reflexes, so she couldnât imagine him not catching it with such an easy lob. âI know you hate the cold, so. Fire, and wine.â She held up the bottle and swished it from side to side, before taking the cork out with her teeth and setting the thing down in between them. She didnât have enough hands for glasses, too, but she wasnât picky enough to be bothered by sharing, and sheâd be surprised if he were, either.
Stretching her feet out in front of her towards the fire, she hummed her contentment at the sensation of it warming her toes first, then unwrapped her sandwich in her lap. âDidnât know what you liked on yours, so I made it like mine: a bunch of everything. Hope thatâs okay.â
"I've never been picky with food." Romulus sat down, a slight groan escaping him, evidence that he'd been standing too long, likely in one spot. Rather than sit on the log, he sat on the ground, and put his back against the log, which he propped an arm upon, while the other raised the sandwich to his mouth for a first bite. Once it was down, he switched the food for drink, and took a long swig from the wine bottle. After he'd put it back between them, he decided to pull up his hood, and sink a little lower against the log.
"Thank you," he said, a bit late, if it was the food he was thanking her for. "I don't think I remember to say it enough. You're thoughtful. I needed... I don't know. Dealing with Redcliffe has been..." Evidently tired of cutting off his own thoughts, Romulus silenced himself, and took another bite instead, staring into the fire.
He exhaled through his nose, taking several deep breaths. "I'd never seen a friend die until recently."
Khari finished chewing over her own bite of sandwich before replying, though she might not have done quite enough, because it hurt a little on the way to her guts, and she grimaced, reaching for the wine bottle and washing the food down with several deep swallows. She liked the little bite on her tongue that alcohol had, though since sheâd been introduced to the concept of imbibing, sheâd preferred her beverages a bit stronger than wine. Still, it was lunch, not a night at the bar, so this was fine. She set it down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, which also gave her some time to think about what he said. Khari didnât really believe she was all that thoughtful, exactlyâthat seemed like an adjective for more complicated people. But she didnât try to deflect his thanks, either.
âYou want to talk about it? Canât say Iâve got a lot of experience with that, either. Never had a lot of friends.â It was a mere statement of fact, and she delivered it like one. Nobody had really told her much about the whole âfutureâ thing, which was fine by her because it had to be way above her pay grade, but it sounded like it had been a pretty nasty business, if someone had died. Good thing it wasnât the real future. Or, well⊠whatever.
Romulus cocked his head to the side, watching the fire but seeing something else in his mind. "The magister's spell sent us a year and a half or so into the future. I don't claim to understand it, but... imagine the worst nightmare you could possibly place yourself in, and then make it entirely real." He paused, long enough to get some more of the wine. He wasn't draining the entire bottle or anything, but most of his bites were chased by it.
"The Venatori controlled the castle. Many were dead, some had been prisoners for months. You were one of them. We found you and Zahra in a torturer's chamber." Another pause. It was possible he was deliberating whether or not to continue, or perhaps he was just working up the strength to do it. "You'd lost one of your arms at the elbow. One of your eyes was useless. Every inch of you, carved into carelessly. I don't even know what they could have wanted from you. Perhaps they simply enjoyed inflicting pain." He spoke the last words with disgust, as he did for the next that followed.
"You distracted the torturer when we entered. I ambushed him from behind. Hacked his head off in four strikes. Inaccurate cuts, so he'd feel it before the end." He rolled his neck around until it popped, and he rubbed at his eyes again.
"Despite all of that, you were still you, for the most part."
âHuh.â If there were words made for this kind of situation, Khari sure as hell didnât know what they were. Instead, she let it sink in for a while, making her way through her sandwich. For the most part, she stared into the fire while she ate, trying to get a sense for what heâd seen. It was probably impossibleâmaybe that would just be something only the three of them would ever really understand. Hopefully, she wouldnât learn it because it came to pass, at any rate.
She was a bit happy to learn sheâd still been mostly herself, though, even after all that. It might have even been reassuring. Khari had always been fierce in her independence, and in her desire to stay true to who she was, though figuring that out had been quite difficult at various points in her life, and she suspected it would be again, someday. âGood to know I was still an angry nuisance even after the world went to shit. Less good to know that it went there in the first place. Probably we oughta, I dunno, not let that happen this time, or something.â
She frowned for a moment. âDid I die, then? In that future?â
"None of you could come back with us. So while Cyrus prepared the spell, you held off the Venatori with Asala, Zahra, and Vesryn. Kept them out of the throne room." He brought his hand up, touching two fingers to a point on his stomach. "When the door burst open, you had a sword in your guts. Whoever put it there lost an arm for it. But you fell after that. All four of you died, so that we could leave." He swallowed another gulp of wine, grimacing as though the drink or maybe the words had left a bitter taste on his tongue.
"You asked me to remind you, that even if all of this goes wrong again, that you're still... awesome, I think was the word. Said you forget that occasionally."
Despite what was perhaps a grave situation, Khari laughed, completely unashamed of it. Who would care, anyway? And if someone did, well, they could fuck off. She took in a hard breath afterwards, trying to regain the air required to breathe normally, and slid off the log to plant her rear on the ground. âSounds like me, all right.â Her eyes narrowed with evident mirth, and the grinned at him. âReally kind of weird when youâre the one saying it, though.â It was definitely the sort of word sheâd throw around carelessly, where as he seemed so much more deliberate than she was.
She sobered herself as well as she could though, the second bit striking her only when the humor from the first had receded. Then her breath transmuted to a sigh, and she shook her head. âMustâve been pretty dire, if I was bothering you with that crap, though.â She wasnât in the practice of making her self-evaluations a public matter, to anyone, and frankly, she was slightly ticked that she, or some version of her, had done it. Though it wasnât like that was his fault.
âBut⊠thanks for reminding me.â
"You're welcome." Rom's reply was a bit subdued, but then again, he'd been growing steadily more subdued for some time. He'd reacted slightly to a few of her laughs, showing the tiniest signs of his own smile, but they were soon enough smothered away. He clambered to his feet, brushing the dirt and snow from his legs.
"And thanks for lunch. I should get back to it." What exactly it entailed was unclear, but probably had something to do with chemical experimentation by torchlight.
âNo problem.â Her reply was easy, and she lifted a hand by way of parting gesture. âGood luck down there.â