The edge of the shield smashed the fingers on her left against the rough wood of the practice bow, and Nicole barely managed to duck her head beneath the training sword that Cassandra brought round. Her feet threatened to slip out from their footing as the Seeker pressed her advantage, leveraging her weight into the shield, until Nicole fell to the ground on her ass. The mix of snow and ice did little to pad the fall, and before she could try to scramble to her feet, the tip of the sword was at her throat.

Cassandra glared with those impossibly dark eyes of hers, looking as fierce as she did when she pressed the attack."If this was a real combat, Herald, you would be dead."

Nicole gritted her teeth, leaning her head back enough to keep the blunted tip of the sword from touching her neck. "Well, I'll consider myself fortunate that this is only practice then."

Cassandra made a disgusted noise from the back of her throat as she shook her head. The sword moved away from Nicole's throat, allowing her a moment to actually breathe a bit more comfortably. She hiked herself up onto her elbows, trying to ignore the pain where the shield caught her left hand earlier. The Seeker sheathed her sword and offered the other woman a hand off the ground. "These practices are meant to better your chances in actual combat. They serve no purpose if you don't take anything from them."

"Well, perhaps..." Nicole paused as she tried to find the proper wording to use. After all, she was fairly certain glib and spirited responses weren't going to win her any favor with Cassandra. The Seeker was already livid that she skipped out of three days of these practices as it were. It was on the morning of the fourth day that Cassandra made her way to the small house in Haven that Nicole slept in well before dawn, and she was there when Nicole attempted to sneak off. It probably was why this practice was particularly punishing. "Perhaps if the practice were more akin to actual combat?"

Cassandra raised an eyebrow as Nicole brushed snow off her leathers and picked up her bow. "You need to know how to defend yourself against any enemy. Especially in one on one scenarios."

"It just seems that your particular scenario is rather impractical." She gripped her practice bow in her left hand, despite the protest of her fingers.

The Seeker sneered at her choice of words, and Nicole took a reflexive step backwards. "Impractical?"

The fury that followed the incredulous note was poured into the next hour of practice. Cassandra spoke little, setting about to prove her point with action rather than words. Nicole spent a majority of the practice getting knocked on her ass over and over again. Thankfully, the shield blows normally landed against her leathers, but eventually, even that offered little in the way of protection. The worst, though, was her left hand. She never once complained about the pain, but she did manage to see the damage. Her knuckles were red, and more than a little swollen from where it had been smashed along the edge of the shield. Nicole was rather surprised she could even grasp the bow by the end of the practice.

Fortunately, the arrival of the Inquisition soldiers seemed to cool Cassandra's wrath, and she relented to let Nicole leave. Perhaps she wanted to spare the embarrassment of having the Herald of Andraste being whipped about the practice field in front of men that Nicole was supposed to inspire. Granted, Cassandra ended things with a promise that practice would continue tomorrow morning. Perhaps Nicole should go speak with Josephine. Maybe there was a visiting dignitary that needed to be dazzled with charm and wit, and Nicole could beg out of another practice session.

She chuckled a bit to herself when the thought of talking to some passing noble sounded more appealing than getting to play with her bow. Her mother would be beyond shocked if she knew that, but it was sadly true. At least if today's practices were any indication of how other one's would go. The one small benefit was now that this morning's practice was done, she could go hide out. Or even go to the tavern and drink.

A good stiff drink sounded bloody marvelous right now with the way her hand ached. Perhaps if she drank enough, she wouldn't notice the way it throbbed. The sound of metal clashing against metal began to fill her ears, as the soldiers began going through their drills. It was still rather early in the morning; maybe drinking herself into a stupor wasn't the best of ideas quite yet.

She sighed as she began to walk towards a small cabin not far from the practice grounds, doing her best to flex her fingers. She could at least still move them. There was some small measure of hope in that fact, but she doubted that would be the case in a few hours, given how swollen the knuckles already appeared. She'd be damned lucky to be able to hold the bow tomorrow, let alone try to fire it.

Footsteps along the road behind her caught her attention, and she closed her eyes, praying that whomever it was would just keep going. Really, she had her fill of dealing with people for the immediate time being. Regardless, she stopped and waited. Her luck had been just the worst of late.

A male voice cleared his throat, and she found herself smiling despite herself. "It would, uh, appear the Seeker became wise to your ruse."

Turning around with open eyes, she found that it was Commander Cullen, who had followed her, in his heavy armor. How she hadn't heard him coming was beyond her, and it happened twice now. Was it because she got lost in her own thoughts that she kept failing to pay attention to the world around her? Or maybe it was just that furry red cloak of his? Perhaps it absorbed sound rather than just look ridiculously comfortable. Her voice was light and teasing when she spoke. "Yes, it would seem so. You didn't have a hand in that, by chance?"

"Assuredly not." A soft smile touched his lips, the corners of his amber eyes crinkling ever so slightly. "Cassandra can be rather tenacious in seeking out her targets."

"Oh, I noticed." Nicole wrinkled her nose. "Tenacious and surly. Two of my favorite things to deal with first thing in the morning. And I wager tomorrow morning that it'll be tenacious, surly, and humiliating. What fun."

"She means..."

"May the Maker help you if you tell me she means well again. The bruises I'm going to find in the morning beg to differ." Nicole shook her head, a few locks of blonde hair falling free. She might have cut it a tad too short for the ponytail when she hacked off her hair to spite her mother. "I mean, how in the name of Andraste, are these practices supposed to help me when all she does is run at me with her shield? I have absolutely no chance of getting a shot off, and frankly in close quarters, a bow has zero chance against a shield. I'm not stupid."

Cullen merely watched her as she ranted. If he disagreed with anything she said, he never let it show on his face. Nicole was grateful for that. He took a half step forward, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "Perhaps she is hoping to make it so you are able to evade a situation similar to that should one arise?"

Nicole scoffed, letting her weight rock back on to her right heel. "Have you seen that woman on the combat field? With her scowling and sneering and waving her sword in the air? Most things never even glance in my direction. All she is doing is taking advantage of me by trying to make me fight fair." The words felt as petulant as they sounded, but she didn't care. Her hand ached, and she really was not wanting to try and see the importance of Cassandra's lessons. She sighed, waving her right hand in the air. "Don't mind me. Cassandra mostly just injured my pride this morning."

"I wouldn't be quite so hard on yourself. I'm sure you handled yourself better than you think." She wrinkled her nose at his kind words, noticing that a hint of a smile was on his face again. If it hadn't been for that scar on the right side of his face, she might not have even noticed it.

"My hand would respectfully care to disagree with that assessment." She winced as she flexed the hand again, the movement feeling stiff. Those drinks were beginning to sound like the better idea after all.

Concern warmed his eyes, or maybe that was just the pain clouding her own vision. He tilted his head to the side as he stepped forward, gesturing to her hand. "May I?"

"Oh, uh, of course." She managed a bit of a nod as he took her hand, her admittedly much smaller hand, into his own.

For a man encased in mostly steel, he was surprisingly gentle, almost as if he were caressing the hand as he examined the swollen knuckles. It was still rather painful, but she almost didn't mind at the moment. Almost. He cleared his throat again. "Back when I was a young recruit for the Order, we found that the wintry months were the best time for the practice fields."

"A young recruit? You make it sound like you're ever so ancient, Ser."

He chuckled a bit as he released her hand, kneeling down until he could touch the snow covered ground. "Well, in truth, it was some time ago, my Lady Trevelyan." It was her turn to chuckle a bit, and she was more than a bit intrigued when she watched him gather a handful of snow into one hand. "We found that after a hard, grueling day of practicing, we often had as more bruises than we could count, but the training masters would not care come morning."

She arched an eyebrow as he stood, snow still in hand. She was rather puzzled as to where this was possibly going. "So, you frolicked in the snow with the other young recruits?"

"Not quite." There was a touch of mirth in his eyes. He took her left hand in his once more, the same gentleness that he had the first time, before he pressed the mass of snow on top the injured fingers.

A gasp escaped her lips, as the cold of the snow mingled with the pain of the sudden weight. "Cold. You could have warned me."

"Sorry. I thought it was apparent." He held her hand between his, applying just enough pressure to ensure the snow covered the entire hand. "Frolicking in the snow?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure what young templars do in their spare time."

He chuckled again, and it warmed her cheeks just a bit. She liked the sound of his laugh. "Studying the chant? Practicing our techniques? Yes. Frolicking? No."

"Well, I know for future discussions. No frolicking allowed." She fought the urge to stick her tongue out at him, laughing a bit instead. Even now, the pain in her hand started to subside as everything apart from the gentle pressure of his hands began to fade away.

He watched her with those intense eyes of his, eyes that looked tired despite the early hour of the morning. She found herself looking away, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear with her right hand. He cleared his throat. "Have you considered wearing a glove over the hand? It could help absorb some of the impact."

"I've tried. It's just..." She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "It feels wrong."

"Wrong?"

"The, uh, mark. I tried to cover it. It just... didn't feel right." She didn't want to talk about that thing on her hand. Most days she was able to ignore it, but it was always there. And sometimes it would pulse with a pain that would make the injury Cassandra bestowed upon her pale in comparison. It was like shoving her hand into fire, the skin melting to the bone. It was the worst agony she could imagine. It was better to pretend it didn't exist. Nicole considered making a fast excuse and heading back into town, as the silence engulfed the space around them. Her hand was sufficiently numb as it was.

"Perhaps..." Cullen's voice trailed off, and she glanced up to see him watching her again. She was fairly certain it was concern lingering in his eyes that time. "Perhaps I could instruct you in some techniques that could help you with your practice sessions?"

"What kind of techniques?" Nicole would be lying to say if she was not intrigued. She raised an eyebrow slightly.

That soft smile of his appeared once more. She'd be content to just stand here with her half frozen hand and admire him. However silly that was. "There may be a few ways to exploit the tactics traditionally used by templars. Cassandra, for all her other training, fights like most members of the Order."

She happily returned his smile. "Oh, tell me more..."