"Before we begin," Cullen said, shrugging out of his cape and gently folding it on a bench, "I'd like to see what you already know."
It was a warm afternoon, despite the altitude of Skyhold, and Sylvanni was sure Cullen was grateful for the excuse to get out from under his heavy feather mantle. She herself was wearing a lighter tunic and pants than the usual formal clothes she wore around the keep, something that gave her a good range of motion and that she wouldn't worry about sweating in.
"Are you sure you're not just curious what the blade looks like in action?" Despite her teasing tone, she stepped up to one of the training dummies, pulling out the spirit blade hilt.
"I have seen Knight-Enchanters before, you know," he said, leaning back against the stone wall of the tower top. "Though never this closely, I'll admit. Regardless, the first step in training someone is assessing what the student already knows."
Sylvanni turned to face the target, falling into the stance Helaine had taught and adjusting her grip on the hilt. "The tactics of a Knight-Enchanter," she quoted, "are founded in two principles: motion and cadence."
She stepped forward, swinging her arm as the blade lanced forth from her hand in a burst of light. "Motion. The spirit blade is not a weapon meant to be held static. Slashes and sweeps must combine speed and precision. One should use the momentum of the strike to help conjure the blade, imagining that the blade is being flung forth from the hand with the initiation and retracted on the back swing."
She timed her slashes with her steps, making her way around the dummy as she worked as she'd been taught. She thought the stuffed wooden figure had been enchanted to resist spirit energy, which explained why she wasn't slicing it to ribbons with every stroke.
"Cadence," she continued. "It is the folly of the novice to try to summon the blade once and keep it held steady. Despite the appearance of the blade, it is a spell, not a tangible weapon, for which the hilt is merely the focus. Holding the spell is foolishness, and will only leave the mage drained, weak, and powerless. There must be a rhythm to its casting and a rhythm to its use. It is most efficient to use the blade in cadence, calling and dismissing, in and out, matching casts with breaths and steps. Energy expended to create, followed by a breath of pause to recover for the next."
She finished the exercise, making the full circuit to where she'd begun, then turned back to look at Cullen. Her heartbeat was elevated, but not racing. Helaine had been running her through these drills for the past week, often asking her to explain while she worked as she'd done here. Vocal reinforcement of the ideas, she'd said. Talking was meant to keep her focused and controlled as she worked lest she attempt to throw all of her energy into the attacks.
She felt a small surge of pride in seeing the impressed look on Cullen's face. "Commander Helaine has trained you well, I see," he said. "You weren't joking when you said the form was rather different from that of a normal sword, however."
She nodded, slipping the hilt back into its tailored loop on her belt. "That's why I'm here."
He stood up fully, carrying a dulled practice sword over to her. "Here. Your grip should be the similar, at least. However, you'll want to hold this sword firmly enough that you won't lose it, yet not so tightly that you hurt your hand when it strikes something."
He pulled his own sword free from the scabbard at his waist and she could see that he was carrying a practice blade as well. Now it was his turn to step up to the target and fall into stance to demonstrate. He didn't run through a full routine as she had, just made a few practice strikes at the dummy, sword making rhythmic thunks against the wood as the dull blade hit.
He turned back toward her. "You said that using your blade was all about motion. The basics of using a real sword comes down to stability. We drill recruits on their footwork and stances because being able to keep balanced and steady in a fight is the most important aspect of using a sword. If your opponent can knock you over, they will win."
She nodded, running a hand along the flat of the sword. "Makes sense."
"A steel sword won't pass through your enemies without effort."
She grinned at him. "Unless perhaps Bull were the one using it."
He chuckled. "Unless perhaps Bull were the one using it. Those of us with less than a Qunari's strength have to make do how we can. What's important to remember about a regular sword is that a soldier's armor should not be the first line of defense. The sword should be. It is as much a tool for attack as it is for defense. Properly learning to block and parry incoming attacks without losing control is as crucial as learning to strike properly. All of that comes from a stable stance."
Sylvanni nodded again, trying to mimic the stance he'd used. She was starting to realize that these kinds of things were more about feeling it correctly than simply copying the appearance. If this was anything like Knight-Enchanter training, it would probably take her a little while to find the stance correctly, but once she had it, she'd be able to get back to it easily enough.
She placed her feet, like she thought he had, but 'balance and stability' weren't the words that came to mind to describe how she felt. "I… don't think this is quite right."
He sheathed his sword. "Here, let me help you." He reached forward as if to adjust her shoulders, then pulled back just before touching her, deciding instead to try to talk her into correcting the stance instead by describing what was wrong. He would have her fix something about the way she was standing - her feet's width, the height of her elbows, the rotation of her shoulders - and then stand back and inspect. Each time he came forward, she noticed that he'd start to reach to shift her, then pull himself away and talk through it instead.
She watched him pull back for what must have been the tenth time, and finally tipped her head in his direction with a questioning look. "Cullen, is everything okay?"
He stopped, a frown touching his lips. "Of course, why do you ask?"
She dropped the stance, making sure she'd be able to get back to it before she did, and fell into a relaxed posture with her hand on her hip. "You seem nervous, and you're acting strange."
The frown deepened. "Strange, how?"
"You keep acting like you're going to fix something about my stance, and then draw back before you do."
"Ah," he said, running a hand through his hair. "I didn't mean to..." He sighed. "It seemed… improper, I suppose. If I were training a female recruit one-on-one, it would be best if I kept physical contact to a minimum."
She raised an eyebrow. "I suppose I appreciate that on behalf of our female recruits, but if it would be easier for you to teach me by moving me into the stance, you're perfectly welcome to. I mean, I'm not just any female recruit. I think you and I have stolen enough kisses on the battlements for you to know I don't have a problem with physical contact, Cullen. Especially with you."
"Well, when you say it like that, I suppose it sounds a bit silly of me," he said. "I simply… This is a different situation than a stroll on the battlements, and I wouldn't want to seem to be taking advantages. I didn't want you to feel like I was grabbing you, or forcing you to do anything. I've always hated watching captains who feel like they have the right to manhandle those under their command to get them in line. I've served under several as well and it was never a pleasant experience."
"I imagine not," she said with a reassuring smile. "I don't think your caution was silly at all. It's sweet. Respectful, even. I appreciate it. If it makes things easier for you, though, you have my full permission to move me as you please. I don't mind at all."
He gave a small nod. "It does, actually. Thank you." He started forward, then paused again. "You're sure?"
She shot him a flat look. "Cullen. It's fine." She fell back into stance, practice sword held before her.
Finally, she felt, the lesson began. He started with her grip. His hands, so much larger than hers, calloused and scarred from the life of a soldier, enveloped her own, shifting her, holding her grip secure. He moved to her arms next, working on each side to adjust the angle of her wrists, then elbows, then shoulders. From shoulders, he moved back, standing behind her and turning her, ever so gently to straighten her out. A soft pressure right between her shoulder blades, inching her balance forward, off of her heels and onto the balls of her feet.
His hands moved downward, holding her hips, shifting her with infinitesimal precision. Despite her explicitly given permission, his corrections were soft and his touch was gentle, hands never lingering longer than they needed to. He knelt down on one knee, fixing her feet and legs, then quickly upward again to check that she hadn't changed anything.
"There," he said, nodding in approval as he stepped back and looked her over. She tried to commit the pose to memory. "How does that feel?"
It felt right, and she tried to commit the pose to memory. "Solid, and steady," she said. "Standing like this, I feel like I'd be able to find off an attack if it came."
He laughed, a warm sound to match the afternoon weather. "Don't get ahead of yourself just yet. You have a long way to go before I would call you a swordswoman. Let's focus on the stance for now, and worry about fending off attacks later. Relax and shake yourself loose, then try to get back into stance again."
She did as asked, and when she was back in position, he checked her over again. Careful touches from him corrected form, spacing, and balance once more, though there were fewer this time than the first set up. The time after that, even fewer. A tiny part of Sylvanni thought about messing up intentionally, as there was something comforting about the gentle pushes and pulls, but doing that wouldn't help her learn.
By the end of the afternoon, she was able to assume the proper stance with little to no correction, and Cullen had begun to teach her a few basic thrusts and slashes. He was an excellent instructor, blending clear explanation, demonstration, and tactile reinforcement to help her grasp the techniques. She was well aware how far she had to go before she would even be considered passable with a sword, but so long as she could learn from him, she felt she had a good chance.
Beyond that, she couldn't think of a more pleasant way to spend an afternoon of free time. She was surprised when the evening bells rang, unable to believe she had spent so much time with him already. She felt tired, after running drills and techniques all afternoon, and the steel practice sword wasn't nearly as light to swing about as the ethereal spirit blade, but it was the weariness of a hard day's work. The loose weakness she felt in her arms and legs promised soreness tomorrow, but she felt it was a small price to pay for the experience.
Cullen waited for the bells to stop before speaking. "I think that would be as good a signal as any to dismiss this session. We probably ought to wash before dinner as well. I think Josephine nearly ran me from the keep the last time I tried to sit for a meal without cleaning up first. I'm not sure she would demand that the Inquisitor leave, however."
Sylvanni ran a hand across her forehead, wiping away the sweat there. "I think it best we don't antagonize poor Josephine any more than usual. Besides, I think getting clean sounds like an excellent idea." She glanced down at her loose practice clothing. "This isn't exactly proper dinner attire anyway."
He picked up his cape and mantle from where he'd laid them on the bench, forgoing putting them on in the heat and leaving the heavy fabric and feathers folded over his arm instead. "You're a very quick learner, Sylvanni. You may not have a warrior's physique, but you have an excellent sense of yourself. You remember techniques and corrections with remarkable accuracy."
"I've learned to become a quick learner at a lot of things, these past few months, Cullen," she said. She broke into a smile before she could dwell too long on that thought. "But haven't you ever been told it isn't polite to comment on a lady's physique?"
He smiled back, her teasing tone enough to keep him from feeling embarrassed. "Then I shall comment on her mind instead, when I say that she is one of the finest students I've had the pleasure of teaching. If you would like me to help you like this again, I would be more than willing to do so."
She walked up to him, standing on tiptoe to give him a quick kiss. "As guilty as I feel for stealing away the Inquisition's Commander for an entire afternoon, I do think that would be lovely." She handed the practice sword back to him.
"What is the Inquisition's Commander, if he is not also the Inquisitor's Commander, Inquisitor?"
She smiled. "A valid point, that. I do think we need to be going, however, if we do not wish to be late, Commander."
Their quarters were in opposite directions, and with his things gathered, Cullen started to walk back towards his tower as Sylvanni turned toward the main keep. "Will I see you at dinner, then?" he asked, walking backward to stay facing her.
She nodded, calling over her shoulder. "Let us hope Josephine finds no reason to send either of us out!"