It was a bit like the training he'd done in Tevinter, years ago. Only now, there was no shadow of death looming. It was quite pleasant, actually.
There was always the shadow, Romulus supposed, but it seemed farther out than usual. The Venatori could not threaten him here, Chryseis could not reach him here. Not yet, anyway. The matter of his ancestry seemed the most pressing, but even Anais was not around. She was secretive about her objectives, but claimed she was working on a way to confirm his descent from Andraste. Romulus wasn't sure he wanted to know what she was up to.
For the moment, he was just a sweaty Rivaini trying to teach a fiery elf how to handle opponents up close when she was without her sword. Well, more efficiently anyway. Khari always seemed to get by, but he hoped some instruction might avoid a few future scars. And he enjoyed the time spent with her regardless. Things hardly seemed to change between them with him becoming the first son in the line of daughters. It was nice.
"Get them on the ground, and size won't mean much," he said, from the center of the padded mat he'd had delivered into his quarters. It made for an excellent training space, separated from his sleeping area, close to the waterfall and the cool air relieving them of the late summer heat. Even in Skyhold there could be quite a bit of warmth. "You'll want to attack, you'll feel defenseless. Be patient, react to their move. Counter, and get in close. Many weapons become useless when close enough to touch."
The crease that had appeared between Khari’s eyebrows was a giveaway to the fact that she was focusing intently, partly on what he said and partly on figuring out how to apply it, if her face was anything to go by. There was a slight bend to her knees, and she held her hands loosely beside her, the long sleeves of her shirt wound up to her elbows, her feet and calves bare as well. Her nose wrinkled, eyes moving from his arms to his torso to his legs, and her mouth curved down into a frown.
“Right but... how would I even do that? If I wait until you’re in close, I’m not sure I’d be able to get you on the ground. Where do I hit?” She was not, by any stretch, a large person, and a great deal of the force she was usually able to apply came from leverage and momentum, both of which she seemed to associate with space.
"Usually? Behind the legs. Even a large man will topple easily when he has no way to rebalance himself." Romulus grabbed a blunted sword from the nearby rack, and approached Khari. "Avoid the swing, under or around. Step in swiftly, placing your inside leg behind mine. Then apply force to the upper body, either an armbar across the chest, or even a simple ram with the shoulder. Secure the sword arm as quick as possible. The fall will create distance, space for the weapon. You don't want to descend onto a waiting sword."
He twirled the blade once in his hand, and settled into a more ready stance. "It's a basic move, but effective on most common opponents, and nonlethal until you want it to be. Ready to try?"
Khari rolled her shoulders, lowering her center of gravity slightly by bending her knees, her frown flashing up into a jagged smile. “Always.” When he swung, she went low, stepping in swiftly. She was obviously used to using her whole body as an instrument of force, because she avoided the obvious mistake of separating her movements too much—her motion inward flowed well into her armbar, and her foot was where it needed to be, without throwing off her own balance.
The problem, rather, was in defending herself from the sword as they went to the mat. With no armor and no weapon of her own, she lacked her usual defenses, and her hold was awkward. Rom was easily able to twist her wrist until she was forced to let go of him, and they ended with Khari on one knee, the length of the wooden blade slanted upwards to her sternum.
“Well, shit. Let me try that again.”
Chryseis had paid experts in their own fields to train Romulus in all of them, discreetly and out of sight as it always was. His instructor in this particular area had been a compact but agile Antivan man, who barely spoke a word. Just repetition after repetition of situations exactly like this, where he would struggle to perform a disarming, or a takedown, and inevitably end up dead time and time again. But it was better to die a thousand imaginary deaths in the training room, so they could avoid the real one in battle.
He stood, tossing the sword aside and grabbing a wooden staff instead, to act as a spear. Another method his own instructor had used. No attack came twice in a row in most engagements. One needed to remember and recall each counter the moment it was required. The speed of their reactions was the closest they could get to foresight.
The second time, Khari almost avoided her imaginary death, though not quite. The third time, she managed to disarm him successfully, but in her attention to doing so, failed to hit him hard enough to actually force him to fall. Still, she gave no indication that this frustrated her, simply resetting herself every time and waiting for him to do the same before she tried again.
The fifth time, something clicked, and she moved through whole sequence smoothly—at least until they were both on the ground, at which point she paused, blinking down at him with one brow arched. “Uh... now what?”
Romulus immediately felt that he was reading too much into the moment. Something about the way her eyebrow was cocked at him. He supposed she could just be pleased with herself, for making progress... which she probably was. But Khari wasn't really the type for pride or gloating. So what exactly was supposed to happen now? He'd never run into this particular problem with the Antivan.
"There's, uh... usually a lot of punching. Or choking. Stabbing. Or just, restraining. You have the advantage." He did notice something she'd overlooked, however. Without any warning, Romulus brought his legs up behind her, swiftly swinging one around in front of her neck, and pulling her onto her own back, while he reached and retrieved the dulled knife he'd used for that particular round, and sat back up, leaving Khari temporarily stuck under his leg. He had his choice of vitals to strike at this point. Another imaginary death.
"The legs are the best option for escape, so keep some weight on them. Most will try to strike you in the back with a knee, pitch you forward over them." He'd avoided doing so out of a desire to not actually strike her. He knew she didn't mind such things, but that was his instinct all the same. He twisted off of her and to his feet, and offered her a hand up.
She exhaled, blowing a loose strand of hair off her face, and reached up to grip his hand and pull herself to her feet. “Note taken.” Khari took a moment to shake out her limbs, shifting her balance and bending a bit in a clear attempt to make sure everything was still in working order. The results must have been to her satisfaction, because she padded over to the small pile of belongings she’d brought with her and retrieved a pair of waterskins, tossing one to him with an easy lob.
“This setup you have here’s starting to look pretty permanent.” From someone else, that might have been a very indirect way of broaching a topic, but even if the words themselves weren’t as blunt as usual, the fact that she was looking right at him and not at the details she was supposedly remarking upon was a dead giveaway to the intent of the observation. “I was just thinking the other day, how much of a change this whole thing is for me, what with the fancy castle and the big organization to belong to and people taking me seriously sometimes and all that. Then I remembered it must be even stranger for you.” She unscrewed the cap from her waterskin with apparent nonchalance, then her brows furrowed.
“Well... maybe not the ‘being taken seriously’ part. That might just be new to me.” She grinned easily, and tipped her head back to swallow some of the water, swiping a thumb over her mouth to clear away the excess.
He took a long drink from the waterskin she'd tossed him. "I don't think so. Maybe my skill has always been taken seriously. But no one ever cared much about what I thought until recently. Even being the Herald was something I felt assigned to, and the Inquisition did everything they could to push the responsibility of speaking onto Estella." Much to her disappointment of course, though she was devoid of complaints as ever.
"Now some people hang on my every word, like my very thoughts are the truth of the Maker or something. You can probably understand why I've spruced up the cave, then. No one expects me to perform miracles in here." He didn't hardly know what permanent even meant for him, but he didn't imagine this place as such. The Inquisition itself wasn't supposed to be permanent. And if his newfound status was true, he was set for even larger things, and greater conflicts.
"We're still the same, though, aren't we? Overlooking the labels, both demeaning and glorifying." He liked to think so, anyway. She was not who she was because of her race, or her title, or lack thereof. She was just Khari.
She tilted her head to the side, replacing the cap on her waterskin. “Right there in the core of ourselves? Sure we are. But all of this, it’s already changed me a little. And maybe it’ll change me more, being here, knowing you and everyone else, being part of this. I’m kind of interested to see what things will be like at the end.” Crouching next to her belongings, Khari set the waterskin down and rummaged in her knapsack for a few seconds.
“And I think maybe you’re a little bit different, too, or at least I’m kind of betting on it, otherwise this is going to be just as awkward as last time, and we both know how terrible I am at adapting to that.” She rose back to a stand, what looked like a square of cloth in her hand. “See... I kind of figured that, with your decision to stay and everything, that you might be a little more open to the idea of, uh, owning stuff. So I made you a thing. To own.” She grimaced, apparently more at her explanation than anything else.
She adjusted her grip on the fabric, and it unfurled from her fingers, reaching almost to the ground from where she held it. It was a very dark red, in the main, the kind of durable silk that was made to withstand wear and tear and temperature rather than the thin gauzy sort intended for pure ornamentation. The edges of the scarf had a subtle embroidery on them, charcoal grey and almost blended with the red. “Stuck my fingers a lot trying to remember how to do this, and I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I messed up a couple times, but I don’t think anyone can tell from a distance, so.” She held it out with a shrug.
“Should help you stay warm, anyway.”
Romulus responded with an honest grin, and crossed the few steps it took to come in reach of the gift, which he took without much resistance. It certainly wasn't the finest work, but when had he ever owned something that was? When had he ever owned something at all? He'd never even owned himself really, not until recently. He'd also never been one for scarves, but that was of course the norm for someone from Tevinter, where such a thing was quite pointless. He imagined it would come in handy.
"Winter will come around soon enough," he said, still examining her work with no hint of displeasure, "and I'm sure I'll be right here for it." He tossed half of it over his shoulder, letting it rest there. Indeed, the color seemed to suit him. "Thanks. I, uh... well. Thanks." He was vaguely aware of his slight change in coloration throughout his face. Had he a more pale skin tone it would be painfully apparent, but no doubt she could pick up on it all the same.
“You’re welcome.” The tips of Khari’s ears were a little red themselves, but if she was embarrassed, she accepted it with good humor, one side of her mouth pulled upwards and her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. “Now let’s quit with the sentimental stuff and get back to the part where you beat me up so that I, eventually, can beat other people up in the same way.” She took up her former spot on the mat, cracking her knuckles with a little more emphasis than was probably strictly necessary.
He could do that, certainly. He almost reverently set the scarf aside and picked up a dulled longsword, tossing it hilt first to Khari. He studied her a moment, trying to decide what would be best to learn next. Something to utilize the low center of gravity she had, perhaps.
"We'll try a straight tackle with a leg lift next. Bit more of an aggressive approach." He took up his own ready stance. "Take a swing, I'll show you."
There was always the shadow, Romulus supposed, but it seemed farther out than usual. The Venatori could not threaten him here, Chryseis could not reach him here. Not yet, anyway. The matter of his ancestry seemed the most pressing, but even Anais was not around. She was secretive about her objectives, but claimed she was working on a way to confirm his descent from Andraste. Romulus wasn't sure he wanted to know what she was up to.
For the moment, he was just a sweaty Rivaini trying to teach a fiery elf how to handle opponents up close when she was without her sword. Well, more efficiently anyway. Khari always seemed to get by, but he hoped some instruction might avoid a few future scars. And he enjoyed the time spent with her regardless. Things hardly seemed to change between them with him becoming the first son in the line of daughters. It was nice.
"Get them on the ground, and size won't mean much," he said, from the center of the padded mat he'd had delivered into his quarters. It made for an excellent training space, separated from his sleeping area, close to the waterfall and the cool air relieving them of the late summer heat. Even in Skyhold there could be quite a bit of warmth. "You'll want to attack, you'll feel defenseless. Be patient, react to their move. Counter, and get in close. Many weapons become useless when close enough to touch."
The crease that had appeared between Khari’s eyebrows was a giveaway to the fact that she was focusing intently, partly on what he said and partly on figuring out how to apply it, if her face was anything to go by. There was a slight bend to her knees, and she held her hands loosely beside her, the long sleeves of her shirt wound up to her elbows, her feet and calves bare as well. Her nose wrinkled, eyes moving from his arms to his torso to his legs, and her mouth curved down into a frown.
“Right but... how would I even do that? If I wait until you’re in close, I’m not sure I’d be able to get you on the ground. Where do I hit?” She was not, by any stretch, a large person, and a great deal of the force she was usually able to apply came from leverage and momentum, both of which she seemed to associate with space.
"Usually? Behind the legs. Even a large man will topple easily when he has no way to rebalance himself." Romulus grabbed a blunted sword from the nearby rack, and approached Khari. "Avoid the swing, under or around. Step in swiftly, placing your inside leg behind mine. Then apply force to the upper body, either an armbar across the chest, or even a simple ram with the shoulder. Secure the sword arm as quick as possible. The fall will create distance, space for the weapon. You don't want to descend onto a waiting sword."
He twirled the blade once in his hand, and settled into a more ready stance. "It's a basic move, but effective on most common opponents, and nonlethal until you want it to be. Ready to try?"
Khari rolled her shoulders, lowering her center of gravity slightly by bending her knees, her frown flashing up into a jagged smile. “Always.” When he swung, she went low, stepping in swiftly. She was obviously used to using her whole body as an instrument of force, because she avoided the obvious mistake of separating her movements too much—her motion inward flowed well into her armbar, and her foot was where it needed to be, without throwing off her own balance.
The problem, rather, was in defending herself from the sword as they went to the mat. With no armor and no weapon of her own, she lacked her usual defenses, and her hold was awkward. Rom was easily able to twist her wrist until she was forced to let go of him, and they ended with Khari on one knee, the length of the wooden blade slanted upwards to her sternum.
“Well, shit. Let me try that again.”
Chryseis had paid experts in their own fields to train Romulus in all of them, discreetly and out of sight as it always was. His instructor in this particular area had been a compact but agile Antivan man, who barely spoke a word. Just repetition after repetition of situations exactly like this, where he would struggle to perform a disarming, or a takedown, and inevitably end up dead time and time again. But it was better to die a thousand imaginary deaths in the training room, so they could avoid the real one in battle.
He stood, tossing the sword aside and grabbing a wooden staff instead, to act as a spear. Another method his own instructor had used. No attack came twice in a row in most engagements. One needed to remember and recall each counter the moment it was required. The speed of their reactions was the closest they could get to foresight.
The second time, Khari almost avoided her imaginary death, though not quite. The third time, she managed to disarm him successfully, but in her attention to doing so, failed to hit him hard enough to actually force him to fall. Still, she gave no indication that this frustrated her, simply resetting herself every time and waiting for him to do the same before she tried again.
The fifth time, something clicked, and she moved through whole sequence smoothly—at least until they were both on the ground, at which point she paused, blinking down at him with one brow arched. “Uh... now what?”
Romulus immediately felt that he was reading too much into the moment. Something about the way her eyebrow was cocked at him. He supposed she could just be pleased with herself, for making progress... which she probably was. But Khari wasn't really the type for pride or gloating. So what exactly was supposed to happen now? He'd never run into this particular problem with the Antivan.
"There's, uh... usually a lot of punching. Or choking. Stabbing. Or just, restraining. You have the advantage." He did notice something she'd overlooked, however. Without any warning, Romulus brought his legs up behind her, swiftly swinging one around in front of her neck, and pulling her onto her own back, while he reached and retrieved the dulled knife he'd used for that particular round, and sat back up, leaving Khari temporarily stuck under his leg. He had his choice of vitals to strike at this point. Another imaginary death.
"The legs are the best option for escape, so keep some weight on them. Most will try to strike you in the back with a knee, pitch you forward over them." He'd avoided doing so out of a desire to not actually strike her. He knew she didn't mind such things, but that was his instinct all the same. He twisted off of her and to his feet, and offered her a hand up.
She exhaled, blowing a loose strand of hair off her face, and reached up to grip his hand and pull herself to her feet. “Note taken.” Khari took a moment to shake out her limbs, shifting her balance and bending a bit in a clear attempt to make sure everything was still in working order. The results must have been to her satisfaction, because she padded over to the small pile of belongings she’d brought with her and retrieved a pair of waterskins, tossing one to him with an easy lob.
“This setup you have here’s starting to look pretty permanent.” From someone else, that might have been a very indirect way of broaching a topic, but even if the words themselves weren’t as blunt as usual, the fact that she was looking right at him and not at the details she was supposedly remarking upon was a dead giveaway to the intent of the observation. “I was just thinking the other day, how much of a change this whole thing is for me, what with the fancy castle and the big organization to belong to and people taking me seriously sometimes and all that. Then I remembered it must be even stranger for you.” She unscrewed the cap from her waterskin with apparent nonchalance, then her brows furrowed.
“Well... maybe not the ‘being taken seriously’ part. That might just be new to me.” She grinned easily, and tipped her head back to swallow some of the water, swiping a thumb over her mouth to clear away the excess.
He took a long drink from the waterskin she'd tossed him. "I don't think so. Maybe my skill has always been taken seriously. But no one ever cared much about what I thought until recently. Even being the Herald was something I felt assigned to, and the Inquisition did everything they could to push the responsibility of speaking onto Estella." Much to her disappointment of course, though she was devoid of complaints as ever.
"Now some people hang on my every word, like my very thoughts are the truth of the Maker or something. You can probably understand why I've spruced up the cave, then. No one expects me to perform miracles in here." He didn't hardly know what permanent even meant for him, but he didn't imagine this place as such. The Inquisition itself wasn't supposed to be permanent. And if his newfound status was true, he was set for even larger things, and greater conflicts.
"We're still the same, though, aren't we? Overlooking the labels, both demeaning and glorifying." He liked to think so, anyway. She was not who she was because of her race, or her title, or lack thereof. She was just Khari.
She tilted her head to the side, replacing the cap on her waterskin. “Right there in the core of ourselves? Sure we are. But all of this, it’s already changed me a little. And maybe it’ll change me more, being here, knowing you and everyone else, being part of this. I’m kind of interested to see what things will be like at the end.” Crouching next to her belongings, Khari set the waterskin down and rummaged in her knapsack for a few seconds.
“And I think maybe you’re a little bit different, too, or at least I’m kind of betting on it, otherwise this is going to be just as awkward as last time, and we both know how terrible I am at adapting to that.” She rose back to a stand, what looked like a square of cloth in her hand. “See... I kind of figured that, with your decision to stay and everything, that you might be a little more open to the idea of, uh, owning stuff. So I made you a thing. To own.” She grimaced, apparently more at her explanation than anything else.
She adjusted her grip on the fabric, and it unfurled from her fingers, reaching almost to the ground from where she held it. It was a very dark red, in the main, the kind of durable silk that was made to withstand wear and tear and temperature rather than the thin gauzy sort intended for pure ornamentation. The edges of the scarf had a subtle embroidery on them, charcoal grey and almost blended with the red. “Stuck my fingers a lot trying to remember how to do this, and I probably shouldn’t be telling you this, but I messed up a couple times, but I don’t think anyone can tell from a distance, so.” She held it out with a shrug.
“Should help you stay warm, anyway.”
Romulus responded with an honest grin, and crossed the few steps it took to come in reach of the gift, which he took without much resistance. It certainly wasn't the finest work, but when had he ever owned something that was? When had he ever owned something at all? He'd never even owned himself really, not until recently. He'd also never been one for scarves, but that was of course the norm for someone from Tevinter, where such a thing was quite pointless. He imagined it would come in handy.
"Winter will come around soon enough," he said, still examining her work with no hint of displeasure, "and I'm sure I'll be right here for it." He tossed half of it over his shoulder, letting it rest there. Indeed, the color seemed to suit him. "Thanks. I, uh... well. Thanks." He was vaguely aware of his slight change in coloration throughout his face. Had he a more pale skin tone it would be painfully apparent, but no doubt she could pick up on it all the same.
“You’re welcome.” The tips of Khari’s ears were a little red themselves, but if she was embarrassed, she accepted it with good humor, one side of her mouth pulled upwards and her eyes crinkled slightly at the corners. “Now let’s quit with the sentimental stuff and get back to the part where you beat me up so that I, eventually, can beat other people up in the same way.” She took up her former spot on the mat, cracking her knuckles with a little more emphasis than was probably strictly necessary.
He could do that, certainly. He almost reverently set the scarf aside and picked up a dulled longsword, tossing it hilt first to Khari. He studied her a moment, trying to decide what would be best to learn next. Something to utilize the low center of gravity she had, perhaps.
"We'll try a straight tackle with a leg lift next. Bit more of an aggressive approach." He took up his own ready stance. "Take a swing, I'll show you."