Estella shifted, reaching up where she sat and stretching. It proved to be a good idea. She could hear a couple of her vertebrae pop softly back into better placement. She'd been sitting sideways on the couch in her office for the better part of the last two hours explaining the long version of the Halamshiral story to Lia; it was probably about time to get up and move a little, for the sake of her health if nothing else. "And... that's about the whole thing, actually. I think I've collected most of the parts, but you might have to ask some of the others for more details on their contributions." It was certainly, when collected, quite the tale.
Lia had gotten the most important parts of the story shortly after she'd returned to Skyhold, but this was the first time she'd heard it all in detail. Judging by her expression she was indeed judging it more like fanciful story than fact. If she hadn't been a part of the Inquisition from the beginning she might've even been doubting it, but no matter how strange Halamshiral had been, the Inquisition had been involved in stranger still already.
"So..." she hesitated, leaning forward in her chair to put her elbows on her knees. "Do we know what's going to happen to the Lions? With Lucien being Emperor now and all?"
Estella shook her head. "I honestly don't know," she replied, pursing her lips. "He wouldn't leave us out in the cold, I know that. But it's hard to imagine anyone but him leading, isn't it?" No doubt plenty in their number were qualified to do so, but they would by nature be stepping into shoes that were impossible to fill. "I'm sure he'll tell us something more official soon."
"Yeah, I'm sure." She seemed to be thinking about it for a second. Lia had never said she didn't plan to go back once she was no longer needed in the Inquisition, or once the Inquisition was no longer needed in general. But before there had always been a stable picture of what she'd be going back to, and who she'd be accepting as her Commander again. Regardless, she didn't seem inclined to think on it too long, and shook her head.
Something about the window caught her attention, and her eyes widened momentarily. "Oh! Didn't realize how long I'd been here. I should go get ready, gotta check over all the emplacements around the fortress again." She'd taken a few days to relax after returning wearily from the Emerald Graves, but apparently that time was up. "Storm or otherwise." She stood, already heading for the door, but she turned to walk backwards as she went. "We should get dinner sometime, I've got more questions. Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," Estella promised, adding it to her mental schedule. She'd gotten better at keeping one, to be sure, though there was nothing else on it for today.
Maybe after she got her circulation going again she could work on the lesson plan for Asala's next attempts at Tevene. She liked having those; a structured reminder of what she was meant to be teaching was a comfort to her. She didn't think she could do what Cyrus did, and just lecture off-the-cuff about any topic she had knowledge of. Probably better not to try and emulate her brother's style in that.
Glancing to the other side of the room, she grinned. "Khari, I don't believe the makers of that sofa intended for it to be used in quite such a fashion."
“Then they lacked inspiration." Khari was, in fact, upside-down on the other couch, her head hanging just above the floor where her braid pooled in a long coil. Her bare feet, by contrast, were thrown over the back. She'd clearly been like that a while, if the slight redness of her face was anything to go by, but none of that constituted an explanation for why she'd bothered to do such a thing.
She was otherwise apparently at the same occupation as Estella had been before Lia's visit: reading for pleasure. She didn't do it as often, but with winter giving one last big protest to spring outside in the form of a storm that was half-rain and half-snow, there wasn't as much else to do as usual. She'd borrowed one of Estella's books this time, a translated Nevarran epic about a dragonslayer and a shapeshifter who favored drake form. From the periodic spurts of laughter, she'd found it quite entertaining.
Pulling herself up out of her absurd position, she flopped bodily onto the sofa, setting the book on the coffee table in front of it. “This one was pretty good." Apparently, she'd finished the whole thing. “There were only a couple elves in it, though, and most of them were servants. You'd think they could have made the shapeshifter Dalish at least, but I guess some of the humor wouldn't have been as funny if he wasn't so big."
Estella hummed. "I think they could have managed," she said, lifting her shoulders. "I think I have some other ones with better elven characters, if you want a list, but they can be hard to find." Rather a shame. It was unfortunate that the elves that showed up in books were usually angry Dalish or timid servant stereotypes. She'd met plenty of people who bore a resemblance to one or the other, but plenty more that hadn't. Estella had never once doubted the importance Khari placed on getting herself into songs and stories as well as history.
"But if you're done for now, do you want to take a walk? I was thinking of heading to the main hall for something to eat soon anyway, and we could check on the storm." Her own window wasn't the best; it looked out over the sheer cliffs Skyhold was built on, which was breathtaking when she could see more than a few feet out, but not so good for getting a sense of what the grounds looked like.
With another bodily heave, Khari righted herself so that her feet touched the rug and her head was above them again, reaching down to pull her boots towards her so she could slide them on. “Sounds good to me. I think we got some apples in from somewhere the other day. I heard a rumor there was going to be pie." No doubt this was exciting news, as far as the everyday kind of news went.
It didn't take more than a couple additional minutes before they headed out, taking a long, circuitous route around the castle to stretch their legs before they'd have to settle down again. For a while it was quiet, but as usual, Khari was the first to break the silence. “Did anyone tell you? About what Lucien did with Bi—Ser Durand?"
Estella had thought to ask, but she'd also thought it was probably better not to pry unless Khari wanted to share. She likely had a right, as Inquisitor, to know what happened to someone who had once been a prisoner of the Inquisition, but it was a right she wasn't interested in invoking. She shook her head. "I never asked," she replied. "Did you?"
Khari sighed. “Vi told me. After Halamshiral, when Lucien was still seeing people and some of us were eating. Pulled me aside and asked if I wanted to know." She grimaced, though it seemed to be an expression more inwardly-directed than anything, somehow. “I honestly... wasn't sure. Lucien seems like a really good guy, but I'm sure he has to be hard sometimes, too. I wasn't sure what I'd do if I found out he'd been executed, you know?"
She drew to a stop in front of one of the bigger windows in the hallway, turning her head towards it and watching the snow fall for several long heartbeats. “But he wasn't." Her shoulders fell as she exhaled heavily, swallowing. “He's not a chevalier anymore, but Lucien only kept him in prison for a year and a day. Now the Lions have him training small troops of guards for some of the villages he used to help."
It sounded like a very Lucien-esque sort of punishment. Something punitive for the damage he'd done, but also a recognition that at the core of an unworthy action, there had been a worthy motive. And an unwillingness to let someone with as much talent for training people as Durand clearly had sit uselessly in a dungeon somewhere. Still... there was a sense in which it might be seen as too soft, even if it resulted in the most good in the end. And it was a very personal thing for Khari, too.
"How do you feel about it?" Estella asked cautiously, unwilling to assume anything until Khari had said so herself. She, too, turned to glance out the window; the sky was growing dark very quickly, even though it was still only about four hours past midday. The weather's doing, no doubt; the snow fell in large, sleety chunks that she imagined almost made plopping noises against the ground. She hoped Leon had been able to cover his garden with tarps in enough time.
Her answer was, initially at least, a vague noise that didn't convey anything much. Khari crossed her arms where she stood, blinking and, it seemed, focusing her attention on their reflections in the thick glass. Hers looked to meet Estella's eyes. “I dunno." The admission was unusually quiet. “Every time I think I'm getting a grip on what honor really is, or what it means, I do something stupid or find a question I can't answer. And I prove I still have a long way to go." She shook her head, pulling her braid over her shoulder.
“I couldn't give any answers I liked when I tried to explain it to Rom after the whole thing with Ser Durand, and I think that was because I didn't really understand what I was talking about. And then... I thought I was doing better, but then Halamshiral happened and I broke a guy's nose for being an asshole to me, and I really don't think that was the honorable thing to do, either." She pulled a face, sighing gustily. Her breath, even from several inches away, fogged the chilly glass where it touched.
Khari reached up and touched a finger to it, sketching out a crude feather in the fog. “But I know now. How much chevaliers have to be able to do. And if all I can do is the physical stuff... then what good am I gonna be to anyone?" It was a worry she'd voiced before, in a vaguer form. Her concern that all she was good for was fighting. It seemed especially sharp now, pointed in a way it hadn't been then. No doubt the reliance on politicking and courtesy at the Winter Palace had distilled it for her.
Estella stepped in a little closer beside her, close enough that she could feel the cold emanating from the window as well as the heat from Khari. Their shoulders brushed incidentally; Estella turned it into a more deliberate nudge. "It sounds like you're asking why you aren't already perfect at doing the right thing all the time," she observed, a hint of a wry smile turning her mouth. "I can tell you with absolute certainty that everyone has that particular shortcoming." She pursed her lips.
"I don't have honor figured out myself, you know, and I've been lucky enough to know some of the most honorable people in the world by any definition." Perhaps that might have been exaggeration in most contexts, but she really didn't think it was in hers. Lucien was the obvious candidate, but not nearly the only one. Nostariel had been honorable in a sense too, and Sophia definitely was. Even some of her friends in the Inquisition had impressive amounts of it, Khari included.
She took a deep breath, then leaned forward and exhaled, letting the window fog on purpose. By this point in life, she wasn't a terrible sketch artist, even if the medium was a bit childish, and she had a decent-looking knight in her patch before long, mounted and carrying a lance. "But... as far as I know, that man who ignored you because of the fact that you're an elf... he wasn't honorable, either. I don't think you reacted in the best way—" she smiled in a conciliatory sort of manner—"but what I do know is that you reacted in an understandable way."
It seemed to be precious little comfort to Khari, unfortunately, who stared hard at the little drawing in the fog like it held all the answers. When she spoke, it was slowly, like something waking up after a long hibernation. Like she was trying to get her bearings. “If it was just for me, I might be okay with that." Her hand dropped back limply to her side. “But it's not. I keep telling myself I have to be better for the Dalish, for all the elves that might come after me. But the other side to that is that every mistake I make reflects on all of us. And I make so many stupid mistakes, Stel. What if I just make things worse for them because I can't keep my temper in check, or because I don't always think things through all the way before I do them?" It was clearly bothering her a great deal. Clearly had been bothering her for some time.
Estella paused to consider that. "I understand wanting to be better, I really do." She shook her head. How long had the same thoughts plagued her? They still did. Not about her temper, per se, as she'd never had much of one, but about various other things. Her judgement, her leadership, her ability to make difficult decisions or somehow suddenly know who deserved what, as it felt like she should whenever she sat on that throne. But there was no switch that flipped and made it so. Just like there was no perceptible sensation that Khari would feel if she ever managed to get honor 'right.'
"But you can't hold yourself against perfection, Khari. There's no such thing. For what it's worth, I think you're doing exactly the right thing now. You're taking your mistakes and learning from them. Just like you do in sparring. Never the same one twice, right?" Her lips thinned; finding the exact words she wanted was difficult. "If you talked to Lucien about it, he'd tell you it took a lot of years and a lot of hard lessons for him to understand what honor was. I know I'm still learning all the time. It's not a bad thing that you're doing the same. To me it seems like the worst thing would be to give up now, when you've already come so far."
“I didn't say I was giving up." Khari delivered the words in an almost-grumpy tone, but there was clearly nothing in it that was actually aggressive. “You're right Stel. I know you are. It's just... harder to remember when I mess up." She grimaced. “And I messed up a lot this time."
Expelling a heavy breath, she shook her head, smiling slightly and reaching over to give the knight's helmet a rather excessive plume. “There. Now he's Ves."
Estella snorted. "The tallhelm's not that silly."
Khari glanced at her, lifting an eyebrow. “It is and you know it. You can still make fun of him even if you can't quit making big eyes at him, you know. In fact I encourage it." She grinned.
"I don't do anything of the sort," she protested, though she wasn't actually sure whether that was true or not. This fact was still mortifying, though by all rights she probably should have been more comfortable with the idea by now. Maybe she would be, eventually. "And I do make fun of him. Fairly often. I just think the tallhelm's not that silly."
It was pretty clear that Khari wasn't buying it. “Uh-huh." Her deadpan might have impressed Rilien, but it was swiftly dashed when she smiled broadly again, slinging an arm easily over Estella's shoulders and starting them both forward again down the hall. “So does this mean he's literally a knight in shining armor? It does, doesn't it? He's got the white horse and everything." She was clearly ribbing her now, and rather enjoying herself, if the facetious look on her face was anything to go by. “Kinda figured that'd be my job, but whatever. I'm not mad. Just disappointed." She sighed in a suitably overdramatic fashion.
Estella sighed, too, though it lacked the melodrama. "In the unlikely event I ever find myself locked in any towers, I'll let you both race to see who rescues me first, and we can decide who gets the title that way." Her tone was arid; she rolled her eyes to give emphasis to it.
Khari cackled, façade of seriousness vanishing quite immediately. “So you're saying I have a chance." After her amusement had worn itself out, though, her expression sobered. “Actually, I was gonna ask you a favor. You think I could practice being a bodyguard with you? Lucien gave me a few pointers, but I really need to actually do it sometimes. I figure maybe we could ask Ril to plan a couple assassinations on you or something. If I can stop him, I bet I could stop anybody."
It wasn't a terrible idea, actually. "If you want to, sure. I don't think he'd have a problem with it. Maybe you could also ask Rom?" It would probably be better to work with a variety of scenarios, and while she didn't doubt Rilien's creativity, another perspective surely couldn't hurt.
“Uh... not sure how well that would go, honestly." Khari grimaced and dropped her arm. “But... maybe. I dunno." There was obvious uncertainty there, and it had appeared quite suddenly at that. It was hard to say exactly where it stemmed from.
Estella paused for a moment, though she did match Khari's walking pace still. She glanced at her friend's expression, wondering if it was better to ask or to leave the topic be. Khari was apparently quite uncomfortable with it, but maybe that meant she needed to examine why. Cautiously, she ventured the question. "Are you worried because he might not like the suggestion, or because you don't feel comfortable asking?" She supposed she could see something in the former; no doubt Rom's attitudes towards what he'd once done were complicated. Maybe Khari knew something she didn't, as far as that went.
“Both? Kind of? I don't know." Khari made an agitated noise and shook her head. “I can talk to him normally most of the time. I'm not... losing my head about it or anything. Except I just... it's always right there, you know? What I'm not saying." Her footsteps got heavier, until she was scuffing the stone with each tread, almost stomping. Khari's emotions always manifested physically in very obvious ways. No doubt it was quite difficult to try containing a particular one which was, by her own admission, very hard to ignore.
She stopped suddenly, rounding on Stel. Her posture was almost aggressive, but that could only be frustration. “How do you even tell someone that? What words do you use? I've tried, you know, to figure it out. But everything just sounds so stupid."
A soft breath escaped Estella. "I know, believe me." She shrugged, a slight smile appearing again. "But in a way the feeling itself is stupid, right? It's not about what's rational or sensible or safe. It's... putting yourself in a vulnerable position, giving someone else the power to hurt you in a way no one else can. It's a risk—probably a really stupid one." Her tone was soft, more cajoling than informative, because she knew Khari had to know this already, in some way. "But... Maker, Khari, if it works... there's nothing else like it in the world." Even just speaking of it, she could feel the echoes of dizzy affection in her chest, and that other, more solid thing that lay underneath. The trust. The knowledge that even on the days when the euphoria was harder to find, there would still be something wonderful to hold onto.
"I won't push you. It's a personal decision you have to make, and only you can decide what outweighs what. But I think we both know enough about you to say that you're not the kind of person who lets considerations about what's sensible or rational get in the way of what you really want." And that could be a weakness, for sure. Just like it was at Halamshiral. But it could also be a strength. Because it was never the people who were worried about being sensible who achieved the most. Who reached the furthest and changed everyone's ideas about what was possible.
And maybe that trait, which Estella truly believed was going to make history someday, would also help Khari change her own life, for the better. Possibly Rom's life, too—there wasn't a doubt in her own mind that they were good for each other, as they were or as something more than that.
Khari considered that for a long moment, her body language deflating until it was more or less normal again. In the end, she snorted. “I think you might have just called me an idiot, Stel."
"Maybe," Estella conceded with a grin. "But you're the best kind of idiot there is."
Lia had gotten the most important parts of the story shortly after she'd returned to Skyhold, but this was the first time she'd heard it all in detail. Judging by her expression she was indeed judging it more like fanciful story than fact. If she hadn't been a part of the Inquisition from the beginning she might've even been doubting it, but no matter how strange Halamshiral had been, the Inquisition had been involved in stranger still already.
"So..." she hesitated, leaning forward in her chair to put her elbows on her knees. "Do we know what's going to happen to the Lions? With Lucien being Emperor now and all?"
Estella shook her head. "I honestly don't know," she replied, pursing her lips. "He wouldn't leave us out in the cold, I know that. But it's hard to imagine anyone but him leading, isn't it?" No doubt plenty in their number were qualified to do so, but they would by nature be stepping into shoes that were impossible to fill. "I'm sure he'll tell us something more official soon."
"Yeah, I'm sure." She seemed to be thinking about it for a second. Lia had never said she didn't plan to go back once she was no longer needed in the Inquisition, or once the Inquisition was no longer needed in general. But before there had always been a stable picture of what she'd be going back to, and who she'd be accepting as her Commander again. Regardless, she didn't seem inclined to think on it too long, and shook her head.
Something about the window caught her attention, and her eyes widened momentarily. "Oh! Didn't realize how long I'd been here. I should go get ready, gotta check over all the emplacements around the fortress again." She'd taken a few days to relax after returning wearily from the Emerald Graves, but apparently that time was up. "Storm or otherwise." She stood, already heading for the door, but she turned to walk backwards as she went. "We should get dinner sometime, I've got more questions. Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow," Estella promised, adding it to her mental schedule. She'd gotten better at keeping one, to be sure, though there was nothing else on it for today.
Maybe after she got her circulation going again she could work on the lesson plan for Asala's next attempts at Tevene. She liked having those; a structured reminder of what she was meant to be teaching was a comfort to her. She didn't think she could do what Cyrus did, and just lecture off-the-cuff about any topic she had knowledge of. Probably better not to try and emulate her brother's style in that.
Glancing to the other side of the room, she grinned. "Khari, I don't believe the makers of that sofa intended for it to be used in quite such a fashion."
“Then they lacked inspiration." Khari was, in fact, upside-down on the other couch, her head hanging just above the floor where her braid pooled in a long coil. Her bare feet, by contrast, were thrown over the back. She'd clearly been like that a while, if the slight redness of her face was anything to go by, but none of that constituted an explanation for why she'd bothered to do such a thing.
She was otherwise apparently at the same occupation as Estella had been before Lia's visit: reading for pleasure. She didn't do it as often, but with winter giving one last big protest to spring outside in the form of a storm that was half-rain and half-snow, there wasn't as much else to do as usual. She'd borrowed one of Estella's books this time, a translated Nevarran epic about a dragonslayer and a shapeshifter who favored drake form. From the periodic spurts of laughter, she'd found it quite entertaining.
Pulling herself up out of her absurd position, she flopped bodily onto the sofa, setting the book on the coffee table in front of it. “This one was pretty good." Apparently, she'd finished the whole thing. “There were only a couple elves in it, though, and most of them were servants. You'd think they could have made the shapeshifter Dalish at least, but I guess some of the humor wouldn't have been as funny if he wasn't so big."
Estella hummed. "I think they could have managed," she said, lifting her shoulders. "I think I have some other ones with better elven characters, if you want a list, but they can be hard to find." Rather a shame. It was unfortunate that the elves that showed up in books were usually angry Dalish or timid servant stereotypes. She'd met plenty of people who bore a resemblance to one or the other, but plenty more that hadn't. Estella had never once doubted the importance Khari placed on getting herself into songs and stories as well as history.
"But if you're done for now, do you want to take a walk? I was thinking of heading to the main hall for something to eat soon anyway, and we could check on the storm." Her own window wasn't the best; it looked out over the sheer cliffs Skyhold was built on, which was breathtaking when she could see more than a few feet out, but not so good for getting a sense of what the grounds looked like.
With another bodily heave, Khari righted herself so that her feet touched the rug and her head was above them again, reaching down to pull her boots towards her so she could slide them on. “Sounds good to me. I think we got some apples in from somewhere the other day. I heard a rumor there was going to be pie." No doubt this was exciting news, as far as the everyday kind of news went.
It didn't take more than a couple additional minutes before they headed out, taking a long, circuitous route around the castle to stretch their legs before they'd have to settle down again. For a while it was quiet, but as usual, Khari was the first to break the silence. “Did anyone tell you? About what Lucien did with Bi—Ser Durand?"
Estella had thought to ask, but she'd also thought it was probably better not to pry unless Khari wanted to share. She likely had a right, as Inquisitor, to know what happened to someone who had once been a prisoner of the Inquisition, but it was a right she wasn't interested in invoking. She shook her head. "I never asked," she replied. "Did you?"
Khari sighed. “Vi told me. After Halamshiral, when Lucien was still seeing people and some of us were eating. Pulled me aside and asked if I wanted to know." She grimaced, though it seemed to be an expression more inwardly-directed than anything, somehow. “I honestly... wasn't sure. Lucien seems like a really good guy, but I'm sure he has to be hard sometimes, too. I wasn't sure what I'd do if I found out he'd been executed, you know?"
She drew to a stop in front of one of the bigger windows in the hallway, turning her head towards it and watching the snow fall for several long heartbeats. “But he wasn't." Her shoulders fell as she exhaled heavily, swallowing. “He's not a chevalier anymore, but Lucien only kept him in prison for a year and a day. Now the Lions have him training small troops of guards for some of the villages he used to help."
It sounded like a very Lucien-esque sort of punishment. Something punitive for the damage he'd done, but also a recognition that at the core of an unworthy action, there had been a worthy motive. And an unwillingness to let someone with as much talent for training people as Durand clearly had sit uselessly in a dungeon somewhere. Still... there was a sense in which it might be seen as too soft, even if it resulted in the most good in the end. And it was a very personal thing for Khari, too.
"How do you feel about it?" Estella asked cautiously, unwilling to assume anything until Khari had said so herself. She, too, turned to glance out the window; the sky was growing dark very quickly, even though it was still only about four hours past midday. The weather's doing, no doubt; the snow fell in large, sleety chunks that she imagined almost made plopping noises against the ground. She hoped Leon had been able to cover his garden with tarps in enough time.
Her answer was, initially at least, a vague noise that didn't convey anything much. Khari crossed her arms where she stood, blinking and, it seemed, focusing her attention on their reflections in the thick glass. Hers looked to meet Estella's eyes. “I dunno." The admission was unusually quiet. “Every time I think I'm getting a grip on what honor really is, or what it means, I do something stupid or find a question I can't answer. And I prove I still have a long way to go." She shook her head, pulling her braid over her shoulder.
“I couldn't give any answers I liked when I tried to explain it to Rom after the whole thing with Ser Durand, and I think that was because I didn't really understand what I was talking about. And then... I thought I was doing better, but then Halamshiral happened and I broke a guy's nose for being an asshole to me, and I really don't think that was the honorable thing to do, either." She pulled a face, sighing gustily. Her breath, even from several inches away, fogged the chilly glass where it touched.
Khari reached up and touched a finger to it, sketching out a crude feather in the fog. “But I know now. How much chevaliers have to be able to do. And if all I can do is the physical stuff... then what good am I gonna be to anyone?" It was a worry she'd voiced before, in a vaguer form. Her concern that all she was good for was fighting. It seemed especially sharp now, pointed in a way it hadn't been then. No doubt the reliance on politicking and courtesy at the Winter Palace had distilled it for her.
Estella stepped in a little closer beside her, close enough that she could feel the cold emanating from the window as well as the heat from Khari. Their shoulders brushed incidentally; Estella turned it into a more deliberate nudge. "It sounds like you're asking why you aren't already perfect at doing the right thing all the time," she observed, a hint of a wry smile turning her mouth. "I can tell you with absolute certainty that everyone has that particular shortcoming." She pursed her lips.
"I don't have honor figured out myself, you know, and I've been lucky enough to know some of the most honorable people in the world by any definition." Perhaps that might have been exaggeration in most contexts, but she really didn't think it was in hers. Lucien was the obvious candidate, but not nearly the only one. Nostariel had been honorable in a sense too, and Sophia definitely was. Even some of her friends in the Inquisition had impressive amounts of it, Khari included.
She took a deep breath, then leaned forward and exhaled, letting the window fog on purpose. By this point in life, she wasn't a terrible sketch artist, even if the medium was a bit childish, and she had a decent-looking knight in her patch before long, mounted and carrying a lance. "But... as far as I know, that man who ignored you because of the fact that you're an elf... he wasn't honorable, either. I don't think you reacted in the best way—" she smiled in a conciliatory sort of manner—"but what I do know is that you reacted in an understandable way."
It seemed to be precious little comfort to Khari, unfortunately, who stared hard at the little drawing in the fog like it held all the answers. When she spoke, it was slowly, like something waking up after a long hibernation. Like she was trying to get her bearings. “If it was just for me, I might be okay with that." Her hand dropped back limply to her side. “But it's not. I keep telling myself I have to be better for the Dalish, for all the elves that might come after me. But the other side to that is that every mistake I make reflects on all of us. And I make so many stupid mistakes, Stel. What if I just make things worse for them because I can't keep my temper in check, or because I don't always think things through all the way before I do them?" It was clearly bothering her a great deal. Clearly had been bothering her for some time.
Estella paused to consider that. "I understand wanting to be better, I really do." She shook her head. How long had the same thoughts plagued her? They still did. Not about her temper, per se, as she'd never had much of one, but about various other things. Her judgement, her leadership, her ability to make difficult decisions or somehow suddenly know who deserved what, as it felt like she should whenever she sat on that throne. But there was no switch that flipped and made it so. Just like there was no perceptible sensation that Khari would feel if she ever managed to get honor 'right.'
"But you can't hold yourself against perfection, Khari. There's no such thing. For what it's worth, I think you're doing exactly the right thing now. You're taking your mistakes and learning from them. Just like you do in sparring. Never the same one twice, right?" Her lips thinned; finding the exact words she wanted was difficult. "If you talked to Lucien about it, he'd tell you it took a lot of years and a lot of hard lessons for him to understand what honor was. I know I'm still learning all the time. It's not a bad thing that you're doing the same. To me it seems like the worst thing would be to give up now, when you've already come so far."
“I didn't say I was giving up." Khari delivered the words in an almost-grumpy tone, but there was clearly nothing in it that was actually aggressive. “You're right Stel. I know you are. It's just... harder to remember when I mess up." She grimaced. “And I messed up a lot this time."
Expelling a heavy breath, she shook her head, smiling slightly and reaching over to give the knight's helmet a rather excessive plume. “There. Now he's Ves."
Estella snorted. "The tallhelm's not that silly."
Khari glanced at her, lifting an eyebrow. “It is and you know it. You can still make fun of him even if you can't quit making big eyes at him, you know. In fact I encourage it." She grinned.
"I don't do anything of the sort," she protested, though she wasn't actually sure whether that was true or not. This fact was still mortifying, though by all rights she probably should have been more comfortable with the idea by now. Maybe she would be, eventually. "And I do make fun of him. Fairly often. I just think the tallhelm's not that silly."
It was pretty clear that Khari wasn't buying it. “Uh-huh." Her deadpan might have impressed Rilien, but it was swiftly dashed when she smiled broadly again, slinging an arm easily over Estella's shoulders and starting them both forward again down the hall. “So does this mean he's literally a knight in shining armor? It does, doesn't it? He's got the white horse and everything." She was clearly ribbing her now, and rather enjoying herself, if the facetious look on her face was anything to go by. “Kinda figured that'd be my job, but whatever. I'm not mad. Just disappointed." She sighed in a suitably overdramatic fashion.
Estella sighed, too, though it lacked the melodrama. "In the unlikely event I ever find myself locked in any towers, I'll let you both race to see who rescues me first, and we can decide who gets the title that way." Her tone was arid; she rolled her eyes to give emphasis to it.
Khari cackled, façade of seriousness vanishing quite immediately. “So you're saying I have a chance." After her amusement had worn itself out, though, her expression sobered. “Actually, I was gonna ask you a favor. You think I could practice being a bodyguard with you? Lucien gave me a few pointers, but I really need to actually do it sometimes. I figure maybe we could ask Ril to plan a couple assassinations on you or something. If I can stop him, I bet I could stop anybody."
It wasn't a terrible idea, actually. "If you want to, sure. I don't think he'd have a problem with it. Maybe you could also ask Rom?" It would probably be better to work with a variety of scenarios, and while she didn't doubt Rilien's creativity, another perspective surely couldn't hurt.
“Uh... not sure how well that would go, honestly." Khari grimaced and dropped her arm. “But... maybe. I dunno." There was obvious uncertainty there, and it had appeared quite suddenly at that. It was hard to say exactly where it stemmed from.
Estella paused for a moment, though she did match Khari's walking pace still. She glanced at her friend's expression, wondering if it was better to ask or to leave the topic be. Khari was apparently quite uncomfortable with it, but maybe that meant she needed to examine why. Cautiously, she ventured the question. "Are you worried because he might not like the suggestion, or because you don't feel comfortable asking?" She supposed she could see something in the former; no doubt Rom's attitudes towards what he'd once done were complicated. Maybe Khari knew something she didn't, as far as that went.
“Both? Kind of? I don't know." Khari made an agitated noise and shook her head. “I can talk to him normally most of the time. I'm not... losing my head about it or anything. Except I just... it's always right there, you know? What I'm not saying." Her footsteps got heavier, until she was scuffing the stone with each tread, almost stomping. Khari's emotions always manifested physically in very obvious ways. No doubt it was quite difficult to try containing a particular one which was, by her own admission, very hard to ignore.
She stopped suddenly, rounding on Stel. Her posture was almost aggressive, but that could only be frustration. “How do you even tell someone that? What words do you use? I've tried, you know, to figure it out. But everything just sounds so stupid."
A soft breath escaped Estella. "I know, believe me." She shrugged, a slight smile appearing again. "But in a way the feeling itself is stupid, right? It's not about what's rational or sensible or safe. It's... putting yourself in a vulnerable position, giving someone else the power to hurt you in a way no one else can. It's a risk—probably a really stupid one." Her tone was soft, more cajoling than informative, because she knew Khari had to know this already, in some way. "But... Maker, Khari, if it works... there's nothing else like it in the world." Even just speaking of it, she could feel the echoes of dizzy affection in her chest, and that other, more solid thing that lay underneath. The trust. The knowledge that even on the days when the euphoria was harder to find, there would still be something wonderful to hold onto.
"I won't push you. It's a personal decision you have to make, and only you can decide what outweighs what. But I think we both know enough about you to say that you're not the kind of person who lets considerations about what's sensible or rational get in the way of what you really want." And that could be a weakness, for sure. Just like it was at Halamshiral. But it could also be a strength. Because it was never the people who were worried about being sensible who achieved the most. Who reached the furthest and changed everyone's ideas about what was possible.
And maybe that trait, which Estella truly believed was going to make history someday, would also help Khari change her own life, for the better. Possibly Rom's life, too—there wasn't a doubt in her own mind that they were good for each other, as they were or as something more than that.
Khari considered that for a long moment, her body language deflating until it was more or less normal again. In the end, she snorted. “I think you might have just called me an idiot, Stel."
"Maybe," Estella conceded with a grin. "But you're the best kind of idiot there is."