Vesryn felt like he'd just turned twenty again, and was being put through his paces by Saraya and a mercenary company alike.
He wasn't even in full armor yet, like the red-headed berserker on his left was. He had to work his way back up to it, so much had he been weakened by his period of inactivity. More than atrophy, the time spent struggling with the effects of Saraya's bleed in his mind had physically damaged him, in ways he didn't even realize until it was stabilized. Aches and pains he'd never had before, like he was an old man. They were fading, but slowly.
Needless to say, keeping up with these two women at their absolute best was not an easy task. No one was more understanding than Stel, but Khari could be worse than Saraya was. Their rivalry was little more than vestiges now, but it was fun to attempt reviving it. It had always pushed both of them to be better, at least.
As for the passenger in his mind... she was quieter now, so to speak. Treading carefully. He didn't think she needed to, but if there was one thing he knew about Saraya, it was that she didn't change her mind quickly. When it came to her opinion of herself, that meant it could last thousands of years. Maybe forever. He still didn't know quite what to think, but the Inquisition was perfect proof that individuals could harbor great darkness in their pasts, and still move forward to do wonderful things. It changed things, now that he could no longer think of her as some infallible ideal of the elven past in his mind. She was just a person, as flawed as any of them.
"I feel like I'm intruding on some sacred ritual here," he said, noting one of the guards they passed watching them. It certainly was a break in the routine. "The two of you have done this together since Haven." He was willing to bet they'd both missed it, too. The journey north had disrupted a great many things.
Khari looked to be in high spirits this morning, though that was hardly unusual. The oncoming chill of winter did little to slow her down or dampen her enthusiasm, and though the cold and exertion had dyed her cheeks a splotchy red under the vallaslin, she managed to look quite arch when she glanced back at him. “I'd say it was fine, but we actually need to move faster than baby tortoises for the sacred ritual to work, so. Look alive, Ves." She reached over to give his back a good-natured smack, then increased her pace, a clear challenge in the acceleration.
On his right, Stel scoffed under her breath, but it sounded suspiciously like amusement. "And there she goes. She'll slow down again after half a mile or so, but she really likes to make me do intervals. Guess we'd better pick up the pace." Even though she said so, she matched his stride, choosing not to pull ahead as Khari had.
His reply was a grunted exhale, somewhere between frustration and just effort. He pushed himself forward faster, steadily gaining on Khari as Stel stuck beside him. "Hold on now, little bear," he called as he ran. "I need to ask you about something." The first he'd heard of it had been on the boat, but now that he was back in Skyhold, he heard several different versions, as the obvious source of the story couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut. Friend of the Lord Inquisitor's, or so he'd gathered.
"Someone's been spreading rumors, about you and a certain Lord Inquisitor, and they're really starting to get out of hand. Perhaps you can enlighten us on exactly the truth of these rumors..."
The little bear glared back over her shoulder; it was hard to tell if the redness was still just temperature and effort or if there was also some embarrassment there. “Brandywine needs to shut his big stupid mouth." She paused to start them up a staircase, diverting from their existing path to do it. It might have been intentional punishment for the question, but it was just as likely that she'd already had the sadistic idea in mind.
By the time they'd drawn even again, Khari was heaving a large sigh. “Out of hand how?"
Stel coughed, though he could tell she was trying to disguise a laugh. "I, ah, might have heard a version the other day wherein undying love was declared. And marriage proposed. Before an audience. Very scandalous." Her grin grew until there wasn't really any hiding it anymore. "But you know... the tame version was plenty entertaining on its own. With the balcony and the kissing." Her eyes narrowed with the force of her mirth.
"Enjoyed yourself, I hope?"
Khari stuttered. “I d—what?" Her foot caught on a slightly-raised stone, nearly tripping and planting her face in the dirt. “What—what kind of question is that? And who said the—the other thing? Someone's face has a date with my knuckles." The red was definitely mostly embarrassment now. Almost as red as the curls bobbing with every tread.
"If it's scandalous we're hoping for, I've got another," Vesryn added. He knew Stel had endured her own round of teasing back when they'd first began together, and he had contributed to some of it himself. He didn't doubt she was enjoying the chance to shoot back. "Apparently a Skyhold servant stumbled on passionate lovemaking in the Undercroft. He exited without a word, and after describing the act to his fellow servants, a new trend of sorts was born in the camp. Lovers eschewing soft beds in favor of the cold, hard floor. Groundwork, it's being called. Infirmary's had to deal with an unusual amount of bruises already."
He didn't know if any of that had even a pinch of truth to it, but that was the rumor he'd heard. It was incredibly amusing to think that any pair of fools would actually try to imitate their supposed approach to the act, but then, knowing what they thought of their Inquisitors, it wasn't too hard to believe. Almost frightening, that.
The expression of abject horror on Khari's face had an almost-guilty edge to it, but before there was much hope of puzzling that out, she was waving her hands with almost-comical energy. “That did not happen! Not even—we don't—just no. What is wrong with people?" They were going down a different staircase now, Khari behaving almost as though rumors were something that could be outrun, if her pace was anything to go by.
“I could have gone my whole life without ever hearing that and it would have been better. Thanks, guys. You're the best friends ever."
Stel's was nearly breathless with laughter at that point, but a certain glint in her eye suggested she wasn't going to drop it just yet, either. "But that look on your face means you've thought about it. What did you say? —'I can't help it, he treats shirts like they're optional'? I think I'm remembering that right."
Khari made a noise in the back of her throat that probably verged on too high-pitched for most people to hear, rendered apparently inarticulate by their combined attack. As soon as their feet hit soft ground again, she launched herself at Stel, tackling her to the ground. “You—!" An inchoate shriek followed as they tussled; though it might have looked convincing to a someone less familiar with actual fighting, it was clearly not intended to do Stel any actual harm.
“Traitor! Turncoat! I'm revoking friend privileges!"
Finally, the plan came to fruition. Vesryn slowed to a stop, his legs and lungs immediately thanking him for it while he let himself be entertained by the scrapping that he absolutely was not going to intervene in. He wasn't entirely sure Khari wouldn't punch him, after all. He sank to the ground, leaning back on his hands and letting out a satisfied breath.
Stel was too busy laughing half-hysterically to put up more than a token resistance, and it wasn't too long before Khari had her pinned. Of course, even so cornered, the Lady Inquisitor was a crafty opponent, and she managed to free one of her hands and get it up to Khari's neck, where she walked her fingers lightly over one of the elf's pointed ears, the lightest of ghost-touches.
Khari's reaction was immediate; she ducked her head into her shoulders, trying to twist away from the touch. “Dammit, Stel—this isn't—fai-i-i-r." Apparently she was rather ticklish, if the fact that her words were frequently punctuated by squeamish laughter was anything to go by. “Stop—stop—uncle! I surrender!" She rolled off Stel, slapping a hand against each of her ears to protect them from further assault, curling into herself in an attempt to shield her neck, too, no doubt.
“Should have worn my helmet. Jerks."
Vesryn was content to watch Stel's victory unfoled, and wait until it was apparent that Khari's surrender would be accepted. Not the usual spot they ended their workout, sitting in the dirt at the base of the outer wall, but Vesryn figured it was worth it.
"All... perfectly warranted teasing aside, Khari, you're looking rather happy. Is that just from the Lord Inquisitor's radiant personality, or is there anything else we should know about?" She probably wouldn't even trust them with it, given the way they'd just turned something quite personal against her for their own amusement. Terrible people, they were.
Apparently her hands weren't enough to prevent her from hearing, though the glare she sent him when she cracked her eyes open might well have been capable of withering wood. With a fair amount of grumbling—including something that sounded like extra laps—she sat up, then stood, brushing herself off where dirt, snow, and the occasional clump of brown grass had lodged themselves in various armor pieces.
“Well I would have told you, but since neither of you has friend privileges anymore, I don't think I will." She sniffed, the attempt at aloofness rather ruined by the fact that she had a few bits of straw from the nearest practice ring in her hair.
Stel, quite undaunted by the blustering, set about picking the bits of debris from Khari's wild curls, letting them flutter back to the ground once they were extracted. "Now don't be like that," she said, half smiling. Her expression had a sort of earnestness to it that could only have been deliberate but came off as genuine all the same. "We're just happy you're happy, is all. Well, and also Ves wanted a breather."
Dusting off the other woman's shoulders a bit, Stel set her hands on them, catching and holding Khari's eyes, her own just a little wider than necessary. "Please tell us?"
“Dammit, Stel. I know what you're doing. Save the baby-animal eyes for Ves." Khari huffed, crossing her arms across her chest, but it was obvious her resistance was crumbling. Probably partly because Stel was the one asking, but also because she really did want to share the news. After a few more moments, she relented, sighing heavily. “Fine. For your information, I beat Mick in a spar yesterday."
She clearly couldn't contain the broad grin that broke over her face then, all recalcitrance burned away by enthusiasm. “He's gonna sponsor me in the Grand Tourney next year. Early, like around Wintersend. I'm gonna compete with actual chevaliers!" She bounced up and down on her feet a couple of times, failing to fully contain her giddiness at the thought, no doubt.
Stel didn't need to engineer either her surprise or her delight there. "The Grand Tourney? Really? That's amazing news, Khari!" She pulled her friend into a brief, strong hug. "How are you going to do it? With some sort of disguise?" Her hands slid down to Khari's upper arms, holding her at just arms' length and tilting her head. "I thought you had to have all kinds of papers and whatnot for that sort of thing."
Khari nodded; the question was apparently one she'd expected. “It's... a pretty fancy disguise, yeah. I mean the actual physical part's easy—just like a helmet and stuff. But they're gonna have to fake the paperwork to get me in, or have me enter as someone else or something. I dunno exactly what the plan is yet, but apparently Mick and Marcy are taking care of it." The details of it didn't seem to bother her much—not really surprising, all things considered.
Vesryn got to his feet as well, brushing the dirt and bits of snow from his hands and the back of his pants. "Those poor chevaliers. They have no idea what's coming for them." He smiled when he said it. Obviously they would all be extremely capable fighters, many having returned from the recently ended civil war, but Vesryn doubted any of them had fought their way through as much as Khari had. And not even just the physical battles. So many of them were privileged, born wealthy and given every opportunity to succeed. Khari had scrapped and fought for every chance she'd ever had. As long as she kept her head, Vesryn figured she could beat anyone.
"If you need any extra practice over the winter, I know Saraya will be willing to help." For the time being, it was safe again. That was the reason behind this training, to get him into fighting condition again. He felt his connection to Saraya more strongly than ever before, and soon enough he'd be a very good challenge for Khari. As for her opinion on the matter, like a great many things lately it seemed to have become more complicated.
Khari, of course, had no way of realizing that, and the grin she offered him was a bit wry in addition to plain-out exuberant. “I'll take you up on that. Promise." Nodding firmly, she patted Stel on the arm once and stepped away. “But first, we've gotta get you back in shape. If you don't get any faster, even Saraya's not gonna be able to help you much when it happens. One more mile!" She hopped back into a run, flipping around so that she was moving backwards and facing them. Just long enough to beckon them after her with a hand.
“And we're sprinting it 'cause you took a break!"
He wasn't even in full armor yet, like the red-headed berserker on his left was. He had to work his way back up to it, so much had he been weakened by his period of inactivity. More than atrophy, the time spent struggling with the effects of Saraya's bleed in his mind had physically damaged him, in ways he didn't even realize until it was stabilized. Aches and pains he'd never had before, like he was an old man. They were fading, but slowly.
Needless to say, keeping up with these two women at their absolute best was not an easy task. No one was more understanding than Stel, but Khari could be worse than Saraya was. Their rivalry was little more than vestiges now, but it was fun to attempt reviving it. It had always pushed both of them to be better, at least.
As for the passenger in his mind... she was quieter now, so to speak. Treading carefully. He didn't think she needed to, but if there was one thing he knew about Saraya, it was that she didn't change her mind quickly. When it came to her opinion of herself, that meant it could last thousands of years. Maybe forever. He still didn't know quite what to think, but the Inquisition was perfect proof that individuals could harbor great darkness in their pasts, and still move forward to do wonderful things. It changed things, now that he could no longer think of her as some infallible ideal of the elven past in his mind. She was just a person, as flawed as any of them.
"I feel like I'm intruding on some sacred ritual here," he said, noting one of the guards they passed watching them. It certainly was a break in the routine. "The two of you have done this together since Haven." He was willing to bet they'd both missed it, too. The journey north had disrupted a great many things.
Khari looked to be in high spirits this morning, though that was hardly unusual. The oncoming chill of winter did little to slow her down or dampen her enthusiasm, and though the cold and exertion had dyed her cheeks a splotchy red under the vallaslin, she managed to look quite arch when she glanced back at him. “I'd say it was fine, but we actually need to move faster than baby tortoises for the sacred ritual to work, so. Look alive, Ves." She reached over to give his back a good-natured smack, then increased her pace, a clear challenge in the acceleration.
On his right, Stel scoffed under her breath, but it sounded suspiciously like amusement. "And there she goes. She'll slow down again after half a mile or so, but she really likes to make me do intervals. Guess we'd better pick up the pace." Even though she said so, she matched his stride, choosing not to pull ahead as Khari had.
His reply was a grunted exhale, somewhere between frustration and just effort. He pushed himself forward faster, steadily gaining on Khari as Stel stuck beside him. "Hold on now, little bear," he called as he ran. "I need to ask you about something." The first he'd heard of it had been on the boat, but now that he was back in Skyhold, he heard several different versions, as the obvious source of the story couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut. Friend of the Lord Inquisitor's, or so he'd gathered.
"Someone's been spreading rumors, about you and a certain Lord Inquisitor, and they're really starting to get out of hand. Perhaps you can enlighten us on exactly the truth of these rumors..."
The little bear glared back over her shoulder; it was hard to tell if the redness was still just temperature and effort or if there was also some embarrassment there. “Brandywine needs to shut his big stupid mouth." She paused to start them up a staircase, diverting from their existing path to do it. It might have been intentional punishment for the question, but it was just as likely that she'd already had the sadistic idea in mind.
By the time they'd drawn even again, Khari was heaving a large sigh. “Out of hand how?"
Stel coughed, though he could tell she was trying to disguise a laugh. "I, ah, might have heard a version the other day wherein undying love was declared. And marriage proposed. Before an audience. Very scandalous." Her grin grew until there wasn't really any hiding it anymore. "But you know... the tame version was plenty entertaining on its own. With the balcony and the kissing." Her eyes narrowed with the force of her mirth.
"Enjoyed yourself, I hope?"
Khari stuttered. “I d—what?" Her foot caught on a slightly-raised stone, nearly tripping and planting her face in the dirt. “What—what kind of question is that? And who said the—the other thing? Someone's face has a date with my knuckles." The red was definitely mostly embarrassment now. Almost as red as the curls bobbing with every tread.
"If it's scandalous we're hoping for, I've got another," Vesryn added. He knew Stel had endured her own round of teasing back when they'd first began together, and he had contributed to some of it himself. He didn't doubt she was enjoying the chance to shoot back. "Apparently a Skyhold servant stumbled on passionate lovemaking in the Undercroft. He exited without a word, and after describing the act to his fellow servants, a new trend of sorts was born in the camp. Lovers eschewing soft beds in favor of the cold, hard floor. Groundwork, it's being called. Infirmary's had to deal with an unusual amount of bruises already."
He didn't know if any of that had even a pinch of truth to it, but that was the rumor he'd heard. It was incredibly amusing to think that any pair of fools would actually try to imitate their supposed approach to the act, but then, knowing what they thought of their Inquisitors, it wasn't too hard to believe. Almost frightening, that.
The expression of abject horror on Khari's face had an almost-guilty edge to it, but before there was much hope of puzzling that out, she was waving her hands with almost-comical energy. “That did not happen! Not even—we don't—just no. What is wrong with people?" They were going down a different staircase now, Khari behaving almost as though rumors were something that could be outrun, if her pace was anything to go by.
“I could have gone my whole life without ever hearing that and it would have been better. Thanks, guys. You're the best friends ever."
Stel's was nearly breathless with laughter at that point, but a certain glint in her eye suggested she wasn't going to drop it just yet, either. "But that look on your face means you've thought about it. What did you say? —'I can't help it, he treats shirts like they're optional'? I think I'm remembering that right."
Khari made a noise in the back of her throat that probably verged on too high-pitched for most people to hear, rendered apparently inarticulate by their combined attack. As soon as their feet hit soft ground again, she launched herself at Stel, tackling her to the ground. “You—!" An inchoate shriek followed as they tussled; though it might have looked convincing to a someone less familiar with actual fighting, it was clearly not intended to do Stel any actual harm.
“Traitor! Turncoat! I'm revoking friend privileges!"
Finally, the plan came to fruition. Vesryn slowed to a stop, his legs and lungs immediately thanking him for it while he let himself be entertained by the scrapping that he absolutely was not going to intervene in. He wasn't entirely sure Khari wouldn't punch him, after all. He sank to the ground, leaning back on his hands and letting out a satisfied breath.
Stel was too busy laughing half-hysterically to put up more than a token resistance, and it wasn't too long before Khari had her pinned. Of course, even so cornered, the Lady Inquisitor was a crafty opponent, and she managed to free one of her hands and get it up to Khari's neck, where she walked her fingers lightly over one of the elf's pointed ears, the lightest of ghost-touches.
Khari's reaction was immediate; she ducked her head into her shoulders, trying to twist away from the touch. “Dammit, Stel—this isn't—fai-i-i-r." Apparently she was rather ticklish, if the fact that her words were frequently punctuated by squeamish laughter was anything to go by. “Stop—stop—uncle! I surrender!" She rolled off Stel, slapping a hand against each of her ears to protect them from further assault, curling into herself in an attempt to shield her neck, too, no doubt.
“Should have worn my helmet. Jerks."
Vesryn was content to watch Stel's victory unfoled, and wait until it was apparent that Khari's surrender would be accepted. Not the usual spot they ended their workout, sitting in the dirt at the base of the outer wall, but Vesryn figured it was worth it.
"All... perfectly warranted teasing aside, Khari, you're looking rather happy. Is that just from the Lord Inquisitor's radiant personality, or is there anything else we should know about?" She probably wouldn't even trust them with it, given the way they'd just turned something quite personal against her for their own amusement. Terrible people, they were.
Apparently her hands weren't enough to prevent her from hearing, though the glare she sent him when she cracked her eyes open might well have been capable of withering wood. With a fair amount of grumbling—including something that sounded like extra laps—she sat up, then stood, brushing herself off where dirt, snow, and the occasional clump of brown grass had lodged themselves in various armor pieces.
“Well I would have told you, but since neither of you has friend privileges anymore, I don't think I will." She sniffed, the attempt at aloofness rather ruined by the fact that she had a few bits of straw from the nearest practice ring in her hair.
Stel, quite undaunted by the blustering, set about picking the bits of debris from Khari's wild curls, letting them flutter back to the ground once they were extracted. "Now don't be like that," she said, half smiling. Her expression had a sort of earnestness to it that could only have been deliberate but came off as genuine all the same. "We're just happy you're happy, is all. Well, and also Ves wanted a breather."
Dusting off the other woman's shoulders a bit, Stel set her hands on them, catching and holding Khari's eyes, her own just a little wider than necessary. "Please tell us?"
“Dammit, Stel. I know what you're doing. Save the baby-animal eyes for Ves." Khari huffed, crossing her arms across her chest, but it was obvious her resistance was crumbling. Probably partly because Stel was the one asking, but also because she really did want to share the news. After a few more moments, she relented, sighing heavily. “Fine. For your information, I beat Mick in a spar yesterday."
She clearly couldn't contain the broad grin that broke over her face then, all recalcitrance burned away by enthusiasm. “He's gonna sponsor me in the Grand Tourney next year. Early, like around Wintersend. I'm gonna compete with actual chevaliers!" She bounced up and down on her feet a couple of times, failing to fully contain her giddiness at the thought, no doubt.
Stel didn't need to engineer either her surprise or her delight there. "The Grand Tourney? Really? That's amazing news, Khari!" She pulled her friend into a brief, strong hug. "How are you going to do it? With some sort of disguise?" Her hands slid down to Khari's upper arms, holding her at just arms' length and tilting her head. "I thought you had to have all kinds of papers and whatnot for that sort of thing."
Khari nodded; the question was apparently one she'd expected. “It's... a pretty fancy disguise, yeah. I mean the actual physical part's easy—just like a helmet and stuff. But they're gonna have to fake the paperwork to get me in, or have me enter as someone else or something. I dunno exactly what the plan is yet, but apparently Mick and Marcy are taking care of it." The details of it didn't seem to bother her much—not really surprising, all things considered.
Vesryn got to his feet as well, brushing the dirt and bits of snow from his hands and the back of his pants. "Those poor chevaliers. They have no idea what's coming for them." He smiled when he said it. Obviously they would all be extremely capable fighters, many having returned from the recently ended civil war, but Vesryn doubted any of them had fought their way through as much as Khari had. And not even just the physical battles. So many of them were privileged, born wealthy and given every opportunity to succeed. Khari had scrapped and fought for every chance she'd ever had. As long as she kept her head, Vesryn figured she could beat anyone.
"If you need any extra practice over the winter, I know Saraya will be willing to help." For the time being, it was safe again. That was the reason behind this training, to get him into fighting condition again. He felt his connection to Saraya more strongly than ever before, and soon enough he'd be a very good challenge for Khari. As for her opinion on the matter, like a great many things lately it seemed to have become more complicated.
Khari, of course, had no way of realizing that, and the grin she offered him was a bit wry in addition to plain-out exuberant. “I'll take you up on that. Promise." Nodding firmly, she patted Stel on the arm once and stepped away. “But first, we've gotta get you back in shape. If you don't get any faster, even Saraya's not gonna be able to help you much when it happens. One more mile!" She hopped back into a run, flipping around so that she was moving backwards and facing them. Just long enough to beckon them after her with a hand.
“And we're sprinting it 'cause you took a break!"