The sound of Khari's hard intake of breath was probably audible only to her under the metallic ring of the collision. She'd just turned aside one of the incoming swords with her gauntlet, but the impact was not without pain. Even though Mick only swung one-handed, he was very strong, and she was definitely glad the platemail had been there—if she'd had only leathers, he'd likely have sunk the edge of his sword to her bone and scraped it. The angle wasn't perfect, but she made do, raising Intercessor to block the other blade and forcing a step in, driving the hard part of her head towards his jaw.
He was ready for it, though, and stepped back out of her rather limited range, crossing his swords in front of him to block when she swing hers vertically up at him. She was never going to beat him in a lock, so she disengaged, trying to dodge around the left-hand sword that he thrust at her with the seconds she spent escaping. She dodged, but too soon—it had been a feint, and he kicked her while she was off-center, sending her to the dirt.
Khari grunted on impact, rolling back to her feet without aggression. That was the match. “Dammit." She sighed. “I'm gonna put you on your ass someday, I swear." Unhooking the mask from her face, she grinned at him, bowing to finish the duel as was Orlesian custom. “Thanks Mick." Her eyes moved to Leon, their silent observer, and she gave him a wave. He didn't hang around often, but she was glad for the chance to show him that she was improving. That his belief in her meant something, and that she was working hard to vindicate it. He returned the smile and waved back, with considerably more reserve, but that was just how he was.
"Told you she was getting better Commander," Mick told Leon, though she soon set his sights back on Khari, a prodding grin returning to his face. "Do not let it get to your head though, you still got a ways to go yet."
Khari rolled her eyes, but it was good-natured. “Obviously." Nobody needed to remind her of that.
"That was very impressive," came a man's voice from behind her, his tone difficult to read. The source of it was the one male elf among the three elves in total that had been walking back towards Skyhold's keep. The "friends" of Vesryn, or so she'd heard, though he didn't seem to spend all that much time with them for some reason. The small mage girl she recognized, Astraia, had been walking at the front of the group, and turned back now to look at the man. Zethlasan, the other mage, the First, bearing marks of Falon'Din on his forehead, displayed prominently by his choice to push most of his dark brown hair off to the side. The others bore vallaslin as well, Astraia's for Ghilan'nain, and the woman in the back, Shaethra, for Mythal.
"What clan are you from, if I might ask?" the First inquired, leaning on his staff.
Khari blinked. Something about this guy in particular really bothered her. She hadn't interacted with him much, so maybe it was just because he seemed so... she wasn't sure of the word for it. Something like what had bothered her about Ves at first. A certain kind of self-assurance that felt like it came from a sense of superiority rather than mere confidence. It set her teeth on edge, but she shrugged and answered the question.
“Genardalia. They wander Dirthavaren, sometimes as far south as the Emerald Graves." She replaced Intercessor on her back, tilting her head to the side. “You're Thremael, right? From Tirashan?" For Khari, her tone was downright neutral, though there was no way she was as good as someone like Stel at concealing her discomfort.
"We are." He smiled pleasantly at her, not exposing his teeth as he did. "I must admit, I've only ever seen one other elf fight in heavy plate like that. No Dalish though, a flat-ear from Denerim. His plate's a bit less... crude, though." He studied her for a moment, glancing once back at Shaethra. Astraia looked nervously between her brother and Khari, pretty clearly not wanting to be there.
"I've never met the Genardalia. Is this a common practice of your clan? Imitating the shemlen that kill each other across Dirthavaren?"
Flat-ear. Shemlen. Khari had suspected that she wasn't going to enjoy Zethlasan's company. Now she knew it, and frowned outright, seeing no need to hide the fact. She barked a harsh syllable of laughter, no genuine humor in it at all. “Nope. Just me. Disgrace of the clan, scourge of good little Dalish everywhere." She bared her teeth, the expression only faintly resembling a genuine smile.
“Might as well be flat-ear myself, huh? Seth'lin? Elvhen'alas? Len'alas lath'din?" She knew what people like him thought of someone like her. The same people who'd spit on most of her friends for being human, or smile and pretend they didn't. She'd rather he just came out and said it than pretend to pleasantry.
Zethlasan, however, seemed to insist on it, meeting Khari's own use of elven language with that same smile. "I think I know a way you could prove otherwise." He removed a hand from his staff to gestured at the mace-armed woman behind him. "A match against the champion of Thremael, our finest hunter and warrior. Shae has assured me many times she could never be bested by a flat-ear."
For Shae's part, she seemed for a moment the smallest bit surprised, but then her expression shifted into something a little more sour. Aggravated or annoyed, maybe, though she was a hard woman to read, and it wasn't clear who the target of her annoyance was. She looked the part of the champion, though. A half a foot or more taller than Khari, with significant and obvious strength in her arms, her legs, her core. She wore lighter armor not of unusual make for the Dalish, and everything about her appearance was utilitarian, down to the black hair that was cut short enough to stay out of her eyes even when allowed to move freely.
She did not, however, move immediately, instead content to wait for Khari's answer first. Astraia inched a step closer to the keep, as though that would help drag her companions along with her. "Zeth, come on. We don't need to—"
"What do you say, Khari?" Zeth asked. "Up for another match?"
Somehow she was always ending up in these situations. Sparring matches that, like it or not, were more than sparring matches. Her answer was always the same. Khari set her hands on her hips, turning slightly to meet eyes with Leon. “Hey Commander. You mind grabbing a practice sword and a—" She double-checked the weapon at the other woman's hip. “—Mace? From the rack next to you?" She blew a breath out, upwards to stir a wayward curl in her face.
“I'm only doing this if Shae wants to, though. I can't stand fighting people who don't want to be there." She arched one eyebrow. “Champion of Clan Thremael against the shame of Clan Genardalia hardly seems fair, but I'll take it if you will."
Zeth turned to his protector. "Well, Shae? Not going to turn this down, are you?" The woman's face was utterly unreadable. It was a rather remarkable talent she seemed to have, hiding emotions about as well as their Tranquil spymaster did. Surely she was at least feeling them, though, which in all honesty could have even made it more impressive. Shae pulled her flanged mace from her belt, flipping it over and offering the handle to Zethlasan. He took it with a smile.
Shae stepped forward, long strides made with a loose and easy gait. Once she was within the practice ring she stopped, observing Khari and waiting for a training mace to be delivered to her. "Don't sell yourself short," she said, somewhat quietly but loud enough for all to hear her. "I've seen you fight. Elvhen'alas or not, you will be a good challenge."
Leon stepped forward then, handing Shae her practice-mace handle first, with a polite nod. Stepping back towards Khari, he accepted Intercessor in exchange for a heavy wooden practice blade of considerable heft. Shifting her sword to his left arm for a moment, he placed a large hand on her shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, apparently trusting that to serve in lieu of words. Perhaps he, too, had caught onto the fact that there were meanings laden in this exchange that went beneath the mere surface fact that two people would be having a spar.
As soon as he was back out of the ring, Khari pulled in a deep breath, gripping the wooden blade automatically, easily. It was slightly wrong under her gauntlets compared to the more familiar nuances of her real sword, but that was no obstacle. Rolling her shoulders back and down, Khari quickly flexed her joints to test them for any lingering pain from her match with Mick. She was sore, to be sure, but she was good at ignoring that. She had to be.
In contrast to her flurry of little motions, Shae was quite still, settling into a stance and waiting for acknowledgment that the match was beginning. Khari was immediately wary of this, because she knew someone else who was like that, and Leon exploded at the beginning of a fight. Nodding her head, Khari signaled her readiness. “Death before dishonor." The words were more for herself than anything, but she spoke them anyway, because they were important to her.
"Ma nuvenin."
As expected, Shae was immediately aggressive, bursting forward and swinging in hard from the left. Khari raised her blade to block; the clack of wood on wood was sharp with the weight of the impact. Shae was every bit as powerful as she looked; Khari had to angle the strike off her sword or risk being unsteadied. She followed up first though, ducking low for a slash at Shae's feet.
The other woman jumped right over it in a controlled leap, landing again too fast for Khari to think of somehow taking advantage of the move itself. A series of quicker, lighter blows backed her up several paces. She was forced to go with it and try to reset her balance at the same time—she'd not been prepared enough for the low sweep to hit nothing.
The last blow in the series was the fastest; Khari barely blocked it in time, and unsteadily. Shae capitalized, kicking Khari hard square in the stomach. Even armor had enough give in it that the wind could be knocked out of a person, and Khari was only just recovering her breath when her rapid backwards stagger took her into the fence itself with an uncomfortable thud.
Zethlasan looked to be enjoying the show, albeit with a slight restraint on his expressions. Astraia did not restrain her nervousness at all, watching the fight anxiously and wincing a few times with the hits.
"Kick her ass, mon ours!" she heard Michaël call from somewhere to their side.
Gritting her teeth, Khari pushed off the fence rails, using the slight flex in the wood to help get just a little extra momentum. She was at her worst when someone else controlled her movement, and Shae had just demonstrated exactly what that looked like. She wasn't going to let it happen again. Her lips pulled back into a snarl and she lunged, kicking up a spray of ring dirt with the force of her motion.
But instead of following all the way through, Khari turned it into a last-minute feint, modeled after something Marcy had done to her, but adapted for her much more aggressive style. Instead of going for Shae's shoulder, where the hit had been aimed, she curved the trajectory of the blade and struck her elbow instead. The sound couldn't be mistaken for anything but a solid blow.
Pushing them back out to the center of the ring, Khari forced Shae onto the defensive. The other woman was patient even despite her obvious preference for aggression—certainly more patient than Khari would be in the same situation. They volleyed hits at one another for long enough that Khari felt sweat sliding down her back and sides, more of it beading on her neck and face as well. Shae looked the same, and both of them remained focused anyway. The frequency of wooden bangs increased as their speed did, both of them building to the real fight, the one that had been lurking underneath all of the opening salvos and keen testing of the other's reflexes.
Khari miscalculated a hit, stepping in too close, and Shae's shorter range nearly ended the fight. Ducking under the blow that followed, Khari did the only thing she could that close: she sidestepped and slammed the pommel of her practice sword into the back of the other woman's knee, taking them both to the ground in the process.
Clearly an experienced grappler, Shae almost got her weapon between them in time, but Khari could not count the number of instances of just that move she'd seen since she began practicing with Rom, and forestalled it, forcing both to abandon the too-large wooden arms and fight this out on the ground.
The initial advantage was hers; she'd come down on top, and adjusted quickly so she was sitting on Shae's ribcage, but her effort to get her knees into the other woman's armpits, to stave off counters, ended in a contest of strength she simply couldn't win. Khari switched tacks, pressing her forearm into Shae's neck, but she was off by a bit and her center of gravity shifted too far forward. Shae got enough leverage to flip them, and then it was Khari struggling to breathe, barely managing to get her knee up far enough to take one of Shae's off the ground by hitting her in the back and unbalancing her.
They rolled apart, both scrambling for their weapons, but Shae found hers first, bringing it 'round to level at Khari's forehead just as she managed to lay her hand on her practice sword. It was a difference of a second or two at most, but in a real fight, that could be all the difference.
For a moment, neither of them moved, both breathing hard, and then Khari nodded. “I yield." Sucking in another lungful of air, she rolled to her feet, pushing back up into a stand and shaking dirt out of her long braid. She glanced at the spectators for just a moment, then moved her eyes back to Shae. Her tone was almost cautious when she spoke.
“You were right. It was a good fight. Glad we had it."
Shae took steady, controlled breaths. She'd shown hints of fire in her eyes throughout the fight; though the woman did not seem to enjoy being in Skyhold or really anything that was asked of her, it was obvious that she enjoyed this, the intense physical strain of a good fight. She offered no more words, just a minuscule nod of her head to show her agreement before she tossed the practice weapon aside, and returned to reclaim her real one from Zeth. He nodded to her as she took it, either offering thanks or some quiet form of congratulations on her victory.
Leon picked up the discarded wooden mace on his way back to Khari, returning Intercessor to her by the strap that usually held it to her back. “You did well," he said. It was little louder than a murmur, clearly something only Khari was meant to hear, but the warmth of the sentiment came through nevertheless. “A year ago, this match would not have been so close. In a year more..." He shrugged, content to let the implication speak for itself, or perhaps because it was hard to say what a year more would do.
"You will not lose," Michaël answered, unafraid to talk about the implication. He had his arms crossed and he seemed disappointed, though not at her. She'd trained with him long enough to know when he was disappointed at her. Rather he was disappointed for her, as he looked toward the side where Shae had returned to the others.
Khari was relieved by his confidence, but she knew she had a lot more work to do to vindicate it. She didn't really need the reminder, but she had it, and she wouldn't forget.
Zethlasan had apparently gotten what he wanted out of the encounter, as he didn't offer any more words, instead leading the way towards Skyhold's keep. Shae was close behind him, quite obviously eager to be somewhere else now that the fight was done. Astraia, however, lingered, looking rather distressed. Shae stopped for a moment to look back at her before she got too far away, something the smaller elf seemed to anticipate. "Go, I'll catch up," she said quietly, and though Shae paused to consider it, she eventually turned and followed Zeth.
Astraia let a short moment pass before she approached Khari tentatively, both of her hands wrapped tightly around her staff. "I know some healing magic, if there are any bruises or anything you want me to take care of." With the armor Khari wore, it was naturally quite difficult to see if she could use healing anywhere, but Astraia was obviously concerned there might be injuries hidden somewhere. "I've seen what Shae does to demons. She hits really hard."
Khari huffed softly. “She does. Uh, hang on a sec, lemme see..." She tested one arm first, opening and closing her fist, then moving it first at the elbow, then the shoulder. That one was fine, and so were her legs, it seemed. When she moved her left arm, though, she found a tender spot. “I'm not sure it's worth the magic, but let's see." It took a bit to strip the armor from her arm, but her sleeve was easily loose enough to roll all the way up to her shoulder.
Sure enough, a bruise was blossoming on her bicep, maybe about the size of her fist, already turning a dark purple color. “Well, if you don't mind having a look at that, I won't say no." She smiled readily enough at Astraia, lifting her opposite shoulder in a half-shrug.
"Okay." Astraia pulled her staff inward to rest against her chest, freeing up both of her hands so she could reach for the bruise. It seemed to take her a good deal of focus, but the healing magic came easily enough to her, and she didn't seem as wary about using it as she was with other forms. With one little hand she took Khari's forearm to hold it in place, the other getting to work on the hit. "It wasn't fair of Zeth to ask you to fight Shae. You've been training all day, and she wasn't even tired."
“Maybe not." Khari figured Zeth wouldn't have asked if he wasn't completely confident Shae would win. Whether her having trained all day beforehand made a difference in that or not, she'd sort of expected that the fight would be hard going into it. “But battles aren't always fair either. If I could only fight fresh, then I wouldn't be much use here. Besides, it was a good challenge, so it doesn't really bother me what he wanted out of it." He and anyone else could take it however they wanted. For Khari, it was just one more step. Forward, like Stel was always saying.
"I think Shae liked you," Astraia ventured, smiling a little. "She'd never admit it to anyone, though. Too proud." She fell silent again, continuing to work, but it only took a few more moments before she let the spell fade away, releasing Khari's arm and returning her hands to her staff. "There, that should be better."
Her handiwork didn't really compare to Asala's, but it wasn't bad either. Removed any chance of that bruise being a weak spot to hit for the next day. Astraia looked like she was considering leaving Khari to her business, but she lingered long enough until it became obvious she meant to ask something, at which point she spat it out. "What it's like, being in the Inquisition? I know not everyone gets to do what some of you do, but what's it been like for you?"
Khari blinked, rolling down her sleeve as she considered the answer. “For me?" There was quite a lot she could say there, honestly. “Probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I've nearly died... well, a lot." Probably wasn't much use to trying to count out the individual times. She raised her arm to rub at the back of her neck. “But it's also the best decision I ever made, hands down." She said it with clear certainty, a reflection of just how clear and certain her feelings were, at least about this much.
“The people here, they're... they're some of the best people I've ever met. And the cause is—I never in my life thought I'd ever be a part of something this big. Something that affects this many people. And even though I'm only a little part of it, it feels like what I do here means something. Like I'm making a real difference by doing it."
Astraia let her head tilt and rest against her staff, which she'd brought into her chest again. Little beads knocked together softly when she did. She listened quite intently to what Khari told her, obviously taking it seriously. "That sounds amazing," she said, smiling a little. It faded a moment later. "Was it hard, though, leaving your clan behind for this? Your family, friends? You couldn't have known what it would be like."
The question lingered for a moment before Astraia suddenly widened her eyes. "Oh! I'm sorry. That was too personal, I didn't mean to—I'm sorry."
Khari shrugged. “Don't worry about it. To answer the question, though..." She pursed her lips together. “I left my clan before any of this. And... yeah, it was hard. Not the first part so much as the stuff that set in after. But I didn't belong there, not really. And I knew it; I always had. So I figured finding—" She swallowed past a lump she hadn't been expecting to find in her throat, but otherwise, her composure remained intact. “Finding a place to belong was gonna be worth it."
Astraia obviously hadn't meant for the conversation to turn in quite that manner, and she fidgeted a bit in place. Still, she managed a somewhat awkward smile for Khari. "I'm glad it went well for you. And... thank you, for talking to me about it."
Khari dredged up a half-smile. Nothing to be depressed about, after all. The discomfort would pass. “Yeah. No problem."
He was ready for it, though, and stepped back out of her rather limited range, crossing his swords in front of him to block when she swing hers vertically up at him. She was never going to beat him in a lock, so she disengaged, trying to dodge around the left-hand sword that he thrust at her with the seconds she spent escaping. She dodged, but too soon—it had been a feint, and he kicked her while she was off-center, sending her to the dirt.
Khari grunted on impact, rolling back to her feet without aggression. That was the match. “Dammit." She sighed. “I'm gonna put you on your ass someday, I swear." Unhooking the mask from her face, she grinned at him, bowing to finish the duel as was Orlesian custom. “Thanks Mick." Her eyes moved to Leon, their silent observer, and she gave him a wave. He didn't hang around often, but she was glad for the chance to show him that she was improving. That his belief in her meant something, and that she was working hard to vindicate it. He returned the smile and waved back, with considerably more reserve, but that was just how he was.
"Told you she was getting better Commander," Mick told Leon, though she soon set his sights back on Khari, a prodding grin returning to his face. "Do not let it get to your head though, you still got a ways to go yet."
Khari rolled her eyes, but it was good-natured. “Obviously." Nobody needed to remind her of that.
"That was very impressive," came a man's voice from behind her, his tone difficult to read. The source of it was the one male elf among the three elves in total that had been walking back towards Skyhold's keep. The "friends" of Vesryn, or so she'd heard, though he didn't seem to spend all that much time with them for some reason. The small mage girl she recognized, Astraia, had been walking at the front of the group, and turned back now to look at the man. Zethlasan, the other mage, the First, bearing marks of Falon'Din on his forehead, displayed prominently by his choice to push most of his dark brown hair off to the side. The others bore vallaslin as well, Astraia's for Ghilan'nain, and the woman in the back, Shaethra, for Mythal.
"What clan are you from, if I might ask?" the First inquired, leaning on his staff.
Khari blinked. Something about this guy in particular really bothered her. She hadn't interacted with him much, so maybe it was just because he seemed so... she wasn't sure of the word for it. Something like what had bothered her about Ves at first. A certain kind of self-assurance that felt like it came from a sense of superiority rather than mere confidence. It set her teeth on edge, but she shrugged and answered the question.
“Genardalia. They wander Dirthavaren, sometimes as far south as the Emerald Graves." She replaced Intercessor on her back, tilting her head to the side. “You're Thremael, right? From Tirashan?" For Khari, her tone was downright neutral, though there was no way she was as good as someone like Stel at concealing her discomfort.
"We are." He smiled pleasantly at her, not exposing his teeth as he did. "I must admit, I've only ever seen one other elf fight in heavy plate like that. No Dalish though, a flat-ear from Denerim. His plate's a bit less... crude, though." He studied her for a moment, glancing once back at Shaethra. Astraia looked nervously between her brother and Khari, pretty clearly not wanting to be there.
"I've never met the Genardalia. Is this a common practice of your clan? Imitating the shemlen that kill each other across Dirthavaren?"
Flat-ear. Shemlen. Khari had suspected that she wasn't going to enjoy Zethlasan's company. Now she knew it, and frowned outright, seeing no need to hide the fact. She barked a harsh syllable of laughter, no genuine humor in it at all. “Nope. Just me. Disgrace of the clan, scourge of good little Dalish everywhere." She bared her teeth, the expression only faintly resembling a genuine smile.
“Might as well be flat-ear myself, huh? Seth'lin? Elvhen'alas? Len'alas lath'din?" She knew what people like him thought of someone like her. The same people who'd spit on most of her friends for being human, or smile and pretend they didn't. She'd rather he just came out and said it than pretend to pleasantry.
Zethlasan, however, seemed to insist on it, meeting Khari's own use of elven language with that same smile. "I think I know a way you could prove otherwise." He removed a hand from his staff to gestured at the mace-armed woman behind him. "A match against the champion of Thremael, our finest hunter and warrior. Shae has assured me many times she could never be bested by a flat-ear."
For Shae's part, she seemed for a moment the smallest bit surprised, but then her expression shifted into something a little more sour. Aggravated or annoyed, maybe, though she was a hard woman to read, and it wasn't clear who the target of her annoyance was. She looked the part of the champion, though. A half a foot or more taller than Khari, with significant and obvious strength in her arms, her legs, her core. She wore lighter armor not of unusual make for the Dalish, and everything about her appearance was utilitarian, down to the black hair that was cut short enough to stay out of her eyes even when allowed to move freely.
She did not, however, move immediately, instead content to wait for Khari's answer first. Astraia inched a step closer to the keep, as though that would help drag her companions along with her. "Zeth, come on. We don't need to—"
"What do you say, Khari?" Zeth asked. "Up for another match?"
Somehow she was always ending up in these situations. Sparring matches that, like it or not, were more than sparring matches. Her answer was always the same. Khari set her hands on her hips, turning slightly to meet eyes with Leon. “Hey Commander. You mind grabbing a practice sword and a—" She double-checked the weapon at the other woman's hip. “—Mace? From the rack next to you?" She blew a breath out, upwards to stir a wayward curl in her face.
“I'm only doing this if Shae wants to, though. I can't stand fighting people who don't want to be there." She arched one eyebrow. “Champion of Clan Thremael against the shame of Clan Genardalia hardly seems fair, but I'll take it if you will."
Zeth turned to his protector. "Well, Shae? Not going to turn this down, are you?" The woman's face was utterly unreadable. It was a rather remarkable talent she seemed to have, hiding emotions about as well as their Tranquil spymaster did. Surely she was at least feeling them, though, which in all honesty could have even made it more impressive. Shae pulled her flanged mace from her belt, flipping it over and offering the handle to Zethlasan. He took it with a smile.
Shae stepped forward, long strides made with a loose and easy gait. Once she was within the practice ring she stopped, observing Khari and waiting for a training mace to be delivered to her. "Don't sell yourself short," she said, somewhat quietly but loud enough for all to hear her. "I've seen you fight. Elvhen'alas or not, you will be a good challenge."
Leon stepped forward then, handing Shae her practice-mace handle first, with a polite nod. Stepping back towards Khari, he accepted Intercessor in exchange for a heavy wooden practice blade of considerable heft. Shifting her sword to his left arm for a moment, he placed a large hand on her shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze, apparently trusting that to serve in lieu of words. Perhaps he, too, had caught onto the fact that there were meanings laden in this exchange that went beneath the mere surface fact that two people would be having a spar.
As soon as he was back out of the ring, Khari pulled in a deep breath, gripping the wooden blade automatically, easily. It was slightly wrong under her gauntlets compared to the more familiar nuances of her real sword, but that was no obstacle. Rolling her shoulders back and down, Khari quickly flexed her joints to test them for any lingering pain from her match with Mick. She was sore, to be sure, but she was good at ignoring that. She had to be.
In contrast to her flurry of little motions, Shae was quite still, settling into a stance and waiting for acknowledgment that the match was beginning. Khari was immediately wary of this, because she knew someone else who was like that, and Leon exploded at the beginning of a fight. Nodding her head, Khari signaled her readiness. “Death before dishonor." The words were more for herself than anything, but she spoke them anyway, because they were important to her.
"Ma nuvenin."
As expected, Shae was immediately aggressive, bursting forward and swinging in hard from the left. Khari raised her blade to block; the clack of wood on wood was sharp with the weight of the impact. Shae was every bit as powerful as she looked; Khari had to angle the strike off her sword or risk being unsteadied. She followed up first though, ducking low for a slash at Shae's feet.
The other woman jumped right over it in a controlled leap, landing again too fast for Khari to think of somehow taking advantage of the move itself. A series of quicker, lighter blows backed her up several paces. She was forced to go with it and try to reset her balance at the same time—she'd not been prepared enough for the low sweep to hit nothing.
The last blow in the series was the fastest; Khari barely blocked it in time, and unsteadily. Shae capitalized, kicking Khari hard square in the stomach. Even armor had enough give in it that the wind could be knocked out of a person, and Khari was only just recovering her breath when her rapid backwards stagger took her into the fence itself with an uncomfortable thud.
Zethlasan looked to be enjoying the show, albeit with a slight restraint on his expressions. Astraia did not restrain her nervousness at all, watching the fight anxiously and wincing a few times with the hits.
"Kick her ass, mon ours!" she heard Michaël call from somewhere to their side.
Gritting her teeth, Khari pushed off the fence rails, using the slight flex in the wood to help get just a little extra momentum. She was at her worst when someone else controlled her movement, and Shae had just demonstrated exactly what that looked like. She wasn't going to let it happen again. Her lips pulled back into a snarl and she lunged, kicking up a spray of ring dirt with the force of her motion.
But instead of following all the way through, Khari turned it into a last-minute feint, modeled after something Marcy had done to her, but adapted for her much more aggressive style. Instead of going for Shae's shoulder, where the hit had been aimed, she curved the trajectory of the blade and struck her elbow instead. The sound couldn't be mistaken for anything but a solid blow.
Pushing them back out to the center of the ring, Khari forced Shae onto the defensive. The other woman was patient even despite her obvious preference for aggression—certainly more patient than Khari would be in the same situation. They volleyed hits at one another for long enough that Khari felt sweat sliding down her back and sides, more of it beading on her neck and face as well. Shae looked the same, and both of them remained focused anyway. The frequency of wooden bangs increased as their speed did, both of them building to the real fight, the one that had been lurking underneath all of the opening salvos and keen testing of the other's reflexes.
Khari miscalculated a hit, stepping in too close, and Shae's shorter range nearly ended the fight. Ducking under the blow that followed, Khari did the only thing she could that close: she sidestepped and slammed the pommel of her practice sword into the back of the other woman's knee, taking them both to the ground in the process.
Clearly an experienced grappler, Shae almost got her weapon between them in time, but Khari could not count the number of instances of just that move she'd seen since she began practicing with Rom, and forestalled it, forcing both to abandon the too-large wooden arms and fight this out on the ground.
The initial advantage was hers; she'd come down on top, and adjusted quickly so she was sitting on Shae's ribcage, but her effort to get her knees into the other woman's armpits, to stave off counters, ended in a contest of strength she simply couldn't win. Khari switched tacks, pressing her forearm into Shae's neck, but she was off by a bit and her center of gravity shifted too far forward. Shae got enough leverage to flip them, and then it was Khari struggling to breathe, barely managing to get her knee up far enough to take one of Shae's off the ground by hitting her in the back and unbalancing her.
They rolled apart, both scrambling for their weapons, but Shae found hers first, bringing it 'round to level at Khari's forehead just as she managed to lay her hand on her practice sword. It was a difference of a second or two at most, but in a real fight, that could be all the difference.
For a moment, neither of them moved, both breathing hard, and then Khari nodded. “I yield." Sucking in another lungful of air, she rolled to her feet, pushing back up into a stand and shaking dirt out of her long braid. She glanced at the spectators for just a moment, then moved her eyes back to Shae. Her tone was almost cautious when she spoke.
“You were right. It was a good fight. Glad we had it."
Shae took steady, controlled breaths. She'd shown hints of fire in her eyes throughout the fight; though the woman did not seem to enjoy being in Skyhold or really anything that was asked of her, it was obvious that she enjoyed this, the intense physical strain of a good fight. She offered no more words, just a minuscule nod of her head to show her agreement before she tossed the practice weapon aside, and returned to reclaim her real one from Zeth. He nodded to her as she took it, either offering thanks or some quiet form of congratulations on her victory.
Leon picked up the discarded wooden mace on his way back to Khari, returning Intercessor to her by the strap that usually held it to her back. “You did well," he said. It was little louder than a murmur, clearly something only Khari was meant to hear, but the warmth of the sentiment came through nevertheless. “A year ago, this match would not have been so close. In a year more..." He shrugged, content to let the implication speak for itself, or perhaps because it was hard to say what a year more would do.
"You will not lose," Michaël answered, unafraid to talk about the implication. He had his arms crossed and he seemed disappointed, though not at her. She'd trained with him long enough to know when he was disappointed at her. Rather he was disappointed for her, as he looked toward the side where Shae had returned to the others.
Khari was relieved by his confidence, but she knew she had a lot more work to do to vindicate it. She didn't really need the reminder, but she had it, and she wouldn't forget.
Zethlasan had apparently gotten what he wanted out of the encounter, as he didn't offer any more words, instead leading the way towards Skyhold's keep. Shae was close behind him, quite obviously eager to be somewhere else now that the fight was done. Astraia, however, lingered, looking rather distressed. Shae stopped for a moment to look back at her before she got too far away, something the smaller elf seemed to anticipate. "Go, I'll catch up," she said quietly, and though Shae paused to consider it, she eventually turned and followed Zeth.
Astraia let a short moment pass before she approached Khari tentatively, both of her hands wrapped tightly around her staff. "I know some healing magic, if there are any bruises or anything you want me to take care of." With the armor Khari wore, it was naturally quite difficult to see if she could use healing anywhere, but Astraia was obviously concerned there might be injuries hidden somewhere. "I've seen what Shae does to demons. She hits really hard."
Khari huffed softly. “She does. Uh, hang on a sec, lemme see..." She tested one arm first, opening and closing her fist, then moving it first at the elbow, then the shoulder. That one was fine, and so were her legs, it seemed. When she moved her left arm, though, she found a tender spot. “I'm not sure it's worth the magic, but let's see." It took a bit to strip the armor from her arm, but her sleeve was easily loose enough to roll all the way up to her shoulder.
Sure enough, a bruise was blossoming on her bicep, maybe about the size of her fist, already turning a dark purple color. “Well, if you don't mind having a look at that, I won't say no." She smiled readily enough at Astraia, lifting her opposite shoulder in a half-shrug.
"Okay." Astraia pulled her staff inward to rest against her chest, freeing up both of her hands so she could reach for the bruise. It seemed to take her a good deal of focus, but the healing magic came easily enough to her, and she didn't seem as wary about using it as she was with other forms. With one little hand she took Khari's forearm to hold it in place, the other getting to work on the hit. "It wasn't fair of Zeth to ask you to fight Shae. You've been training all day, and she wasn't even tired."
“Maybe not." Khari figured Zeth wouldn't have asked if he wasn't completely confident Shae would win. Whether her having trained all day beforehand made a difference in that or not, she'd sort of expected that the fight would be hard going into it. “But battles aren't always fair either. If I could only fight fresh, then I wouldn't be much use here. Besides, it was a good challenge, so it doesn't really bother me what he wanted out of it." He and anyone else could take it however they wanted. For Khari, it was just one more step. Forward, like Stel was always saying.
"I think Shae liked you," Astraia ventured, smiling a little. "She'd never admit it to anyone, though. Too proud." She fell silent again, continuing to work, but it only took a few more moments before she let the spell fade away, releasing Khari's arm and returning her hands to her staff. "There, that should be better."
Her handiwork didn't really compare to Asala's, but it wasn't bad either. Removed any chance of that bruise being a weak spot to hit for the next day. Astraia looked like she was considering leaving Khari to her business, but she lingered long enough until it became obvious she meant to ask something, at which point she spat it out. "What it's like, being in the Inquisition? I know not everyone gets to do what some of you do, but what's it been like for you?"
Khari blinked, rolling down her sleeve as she considered the answer. “For me?" There was quite a lot she could say there, honestly. “Probably the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I've nearly died... well, a lot." Probably wasn't much use to trying to count out the individual times. She raised her arm to rub at the back of her neck. “But it's also the best decision I ever made, hands down." She said it with clear certainty, a reflection of just how clear and certain her feelings were, at least about this much.
“The people here, they're... they're some of the best people I've ever met. And the cause is—I never in my life thought I'd ever be a part of something this big. Something that affects this many people. And even though I'm only a little part of it, it feels like what I do here means something. Like I'm making a real difference by doing it."
Astraia let her head tilt and rest against her staff, which she'd brought into her chest again. Little beads knocked together softly when she did. She listened quite intently to what Khari told her, obviously taking it seriously. "That sounds amazing," she said, smiling a little. It faded a moment later. "Was it hard, though, leaving your clan behind for this? Your family, friends? You couldn't have known what it would be like."
The question lingered for a moment before Astraia suddenly widened her eyes. "Oh! I'm sorry. That was too personal, I didn't mean to—I'm sorry."
Khari shrugged. “Don't worry about it. To answer the question, though..." She pursed her lips together. “I left my clan before any of this. And... yeah, it was hard. Not the first part so much as the stuff that set in after. But I didn't belong there, not really. And I knew it; I always had. So I figured finding—" She swallowed past a lump she hadn't been expecting to find in her throat, but otherwise, her composure remained intact. “Finding a place to belong was gonna be worth it."
Astraia obviously hadn't meant for the conversation to turn in quite that manner, and she fidgeted a bit in place. Still, she managed a somewhat awkward smile for Khari. "I'm glad it went well for you. And... thank you, for talking to me about it."
Khari dredged up a half-smile. Nothing to be depressed about, after all. The discomfort would pass. “Yeah. No problem."