Note: Dragon Age II!AU. Can be a standalone fic, but there's a story on my profile you can read before this one: The True Authority


The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood up as the power surged through her body. A sigh escaped her lips as her mind focused on the red orb of energy formed in front of her. Blood dripped from her fingertip onto the floor, staining the stone surface.

It was euphoria having power like this at her fingertips. Perfecting her ability to use blood magic was the next step in achieving her goal, and she had perfected it. Pansy Parkinson would soon sit in her rightful place as the Viscountess of Kirkwall.

Others doubted her because she was a woman, but no more. The champion had been a woman all those years ago, and Pansy witnessed the ruthless acts she had to commit getting to her position. Pansy would be just as ruthless as her connection to the fade grew. She was no fool, however, as she would not allow her body to be some vessel for the demons lurking in the dimension of the fade. That didn't mean that she wouldn't take as much of the power that she could.

Draco voiced his concerns once or twice, but Pansy didn't want to hear it.

"This pursuit is killing the person I care about."

She wouldn't always remain that dutiful daughter that was brushed aside for her brothers. One would retire or die, and another one would be chosen over her. No more. The rotation of her siblings taking what was rightfully hers was over. Surely, Draco could understand that. He would have to if he wanted to be her advisor throughout her reign.

Clenching her fist, Pansy closed her eyes and basked in the orb's energy. A grin slowly stretched on her face as she chuckled darkly. She opened her hand and thrust it forward, releasing the orb on the mirror in front of her. It shattered the glass into pieces, the sound of it crashing and clattering to the floor was music to her ears.

As she opened her eyes, her grin never wavered as she looked at the mess. Pansy did that by simply pricking her finger.

She couldn't bask in her success for long because she heard steps approaching her bedchambers. Clasping her hands behind her back, Pansy straightened her posture as her handmaiden entered her room, a templar beside her.

"Is everything all right, m'lady?" her handmaiden asked her.

Pansy took a deep breath and nodded. "Yes, Susan," she said. "I was startled by something as I was brushing my hair and reacted poorly. If you could take care of this mess quickly, I would appreciate it."

Susan's eyes cast down towards the scarlet spots on the floor swiftly before meeting Pansy's eyes. There was a simple message between them that Susan would understand: 'take care of it'.

Pansy then looked at the templar accompanying Susan and tilted her head. "There's nothing here," she said. "You can go now."

The templar scanned the room, as it was part of his job. Before he was going to spot the blood, Pansy cleared her throat and narrowed her eyes at him.

"You can go now," she repeated, her tone colder than before.

He bowed his head tentatively before turning on his heel and leaving. As soon as her door was closed, Pansy scoffed and slapped her legs.

"Honestly," she mumbled. "Templars are getting more bothersome by the days."

Susan didn't say anything as she went about cleaning the glass and removing the mirror from Pansy's room. As much as Pansy would have liked the response, she was more pleased that the woman was properly trained and equipped to do what she was supposed to for Pansy.

The others would be properly trained and equipped soon enough.


The Blade of Saarebas was spun on its tip on the wooden surface of the table next to her chessboard, its golden hilt glinting from the candlelight. Her slender fingers kept a steady pace of the spinning, her focus entirely on the wall across from her where her mirror once was.

Pansy stared intently, her breathing even. She was done waiting. Her brother had to die; she would see to that.

Her mother could have gone first as she intended, but the woman deserved to watch her son's blood spill from his body. It would be equivalent to the amount of blood Pansy shed to prove to her that she was the rightful owner of the Viscount's throne.

The thought brought the ghost of a smile to Pansy's face. She stopped creating a hole in the table and held the weapon in her hand firmly. Nothing could stop her now. Theodore had given her enough lessons for her to master the art of blood magic.

A talented mage like him would have to be in her court, the division between the mages and templars was damning anyway.

She rested her finger under her chin as she thought about her first ruling she'd set forth. There were so many possibilities for her to use that would express how much power and wealth she'd bring to civilization.

Her door creaked open, causing Pansy to whip her head over to the dark shadow entering her chambers. Setting the blade down, Pansy crossed her leg over the other and rested her hand on her knee casually.

"It's not polite to simply enter a lady's chambers without permission," she quipped, her brow quirked. "Anything to say for yourself, Blaise?"

The dark-skinned man came into the candlelight, its flames beaming across the smooth complexion of his skin. "I'm not your beloved advisor," he responded with a smirk. "I don't have to pick your lock when I can come and go as I please."

Pansy snorted lightly, removing her hand from her knee when Blaise stepped in front of her. He was of royal blood, having travelled from Seheron to marry the next female heir to the throne. Seeing as the Viscount was the highest authority in Kirkwall, that meant that she would be his wife. She had no qualms with that; he had a high power of his own that would only solidify everything that she already had in her possession. It was the only thing her mother had done right by her.

He reached forward to touch her, and she accepted it as his fingers trailed up her collarbone to her shoulder. Pansy tilted her head to the side, giving him access to her skin when she lost the warmth of his touch. Instead, he reached for one of the chess pieces on the chessboard next to the blade.

"I take it that the preparations are all in order," he remarked, turning the pawn between his fingers. "You've been in your room much more than usual."

"You haven't been in my room as usual."

"I do have other things to do beyond taking you to your bed prematurely, Pansy."

"If those other things consist of those whores in The Blooming Rose–"

"I attended the necessary meetings so you could get your brother alone."

She took a sharp breath, staring at the man standing before her. She would have her chance to take what was hers. Standing up, Pansy grabbed the pawn from Blaise's hand and tossed it aside. She grabbed the queen piece and smiled.

"Now everything is in order," she whispered.

Blaise held Pansy's hand that contained the chess piece, pulling her closer. "The templars guarding your brother's chambers have been given the instructions. Once they see you, they know what to do."

Pansy leaned into him, placing her free hand on his chest. "Have I corrupted you to my wicked ways?"

He leaned forward, their lips almost touching. "I was already wicked, darling. I've only met my powerful match." He was going to close the distance, his hand pressing into the small of her back, but Pansy leaned back.

"I'll have my way with you later, dear," she said, staring into his soulful gaze. As much as she'd want to give in to the pleasures of Blaise's touch, she had the opportunity of killing her brother at her fingertips. The pleasure of sacrificing his blood for her gain was too big an itch not to scratch. "I have a rotation that needs to end."


Every step Pansy took down the hallway to her brother's chamber was like a drum in her ear. It was the victory march, the countdown to her reign to power. She could practically taste it. The dark magic hummed inside her, ready to be unleashed on her brother and opposers. Viscountess was in her grasp.

Her eyes met with the templars that were guarding her brother's doors, and they gave her a nod. They moved out of her way, muttering things under their breaths as she passed. What they would see as she entered her brother's room was the Blade of Saarebas behind her back.

The doors closed slowly behind Pansy, and she saw her brother look over his shoulder as he stood in front of the fireplace. With a small, dark smile on her face, Pansy cut her hand as she revealed the blade behind her back.

As blood was splattered to the wall and gurgling sounds died with the remaining candlelight, Pansy laughed victoriously. This was right. This was her right. The true authority was rising. And damn anyone who would try getting in her way to power.

She raised her hands, the blood cascading down her arm as she chanted in another language, her lips moving quickly as the power soared through her body.


A/N: Written for QLFC and HSWW (Challenges and Assignments)

(QLFC) Team: Wigtown Wanderers; Position: Chaser 1; Prompt: (Song as Inspiration) Salem: Cupid Carries a Gun — Marilyn Manson (Celebrating Death, Darkness and Evil); Optional Prompts: (object) chess piece, (word) civilisation, (word) rotation

(HSWW) Assignment #2 Anatomy & Physiology Task 2: Write about someone removing something or someone from their life.

Word Count: 1,589