Claiming Control

Chapter 4: The Library

Sophia spent as much time as she could during the next month in the library.

She had continued her training exercises, occasionally sparring both soldiers and mages, and experts were brought in to help her improve her technique and capitalize on her new powers. During the last training regiment, her 'grandfather' brought forward an armored man that he introduced as a Templar, and watched their fight with obvious anticipation. Sophia knew better than to lose. Two weeks ago she had been tricked and lost to a couple of rogues. Danarius had sneered at her, and suggested, "You need to improve if you wish to become a Seeker, my dear. Perhaps you need to keep your injuries as a reminder?"

More scars. More pain. More hurt. She woke up to a pillow crusted with bloody tears for at least a week straight following the incident, the scabs on her face breaking during sleep. The despair she felt looking down at the bloody cloth, skin throbbing, was almost overwhelming.

The Templar responded differently than some of the other warrior types she had fought. His stance, the angle he tipped his shields, the strength of his attacks… And she could feel a pull. Something about the man shone blue, and she could feel the power coursing through his veins, and it made her hunger in want… The feeling was so disconcerting, it was difficult to loosen her tense muscles enough to achieve any measure of fluidity.

Sophia had been expecting the man to be a sort of mage/soldier combo, as that seemed to be the next logical step. So, she attempted to replicate the move she had performed on mages, which she had been informed by her trainers dispelled magic. Imagine her surprise when the man, noticing her action, attempted the same thing. And then imagine their growing disbelief as her attack seemed to absorb his, washing the circle of energy wider than their two individual circles, eventually creeping up to the man itself. He choked in surprise, visibly pulled forward as if by string, before she released whatever grip she had of the wash. He was breathing heavily at that point, clutching his chest, and stared at her in confused fear.

He attacked with his sword, and Sophia responded. Their swords danced, and she was able to appreciate his superior training, when she saw the opportunity to dodge and jump forward while delivering a knife-hand to his throat.

As soon as her hand touched his skin, she could feel the buzzed need intensify and pour over her, and she had to look into the man's eyes and mentally process his shock and anxiety in order to prevent herself from reaching up and wrapping both hands around her throat. She barely registered the sound of his dropped weapon, counting breaths through her nose and then her mouth. It took everything in her to pull back and take a few steps away. The man's eyes were dilated, in need or pain Sophia couldn't decipher, although she did hear the sound of lackluster applause that she knew signified Danarius's approval. Sophia continued to step back, and then mumbled something about lunch to her audience with a strained smile, as she sheathed her sword and headed to the library.

So, yes, the library. Her favorite place in this estate besides the kitchen, which was a close second because it served as an inconspicuous rendezvous place for her and Ash, and was her point of contact for the elves she was attempting to befriend. She read everything she could get her hands on, the speed at which she could read gradually increasing, and Julius seemed amused at the wide range of subjects (Sophia wondered a few times why he felt the need to keep tract, although he was a decent conversationalist when she had a question about context and proved an invaluable teacher, so… she let it slide for the moment). The most interesting for her were the detailed accounts of history, geography, and politics, and Sophia noted the role of the Imperium as an imperialist enterprise with an odd acceptance. The genocide and later enslavement and subjugation of the elven people seemed obvious somehow, which was wrong but… treatment of an indigenous people for the purposes of conquest and the expansion of resources was not a novel thing. (Although… were the elvish the indigenous people? The Tevinter texts paint them as interlopers and a threat, and speaks more about divine right of expansion rather than an ancestor claim over lands… so it would make sense?) Julius thought that reasoning fascinating.

She purposely kept the censure of the system out of her voice, hesitant to voice such strong opinions in his presence until she made a decision regarding her future. Although she was ashamed to acknowledge that it would have been easy to disassociate from the truth if she had not witnessed this subjugation in person. She had seen an elven child, shackled, starving, beaten… Sophia had listened to Julius pontificate about how such displays were necessary to discourage an uprising, of the necessary sacrifices needed to run an empire, about how difficult it was having to deal with their incompetence… Sophia had to clench her shaking fists to stem the feelings of indignation and self-righteousness. And Ash had shown up to their meeting a few days ago, arms littered in bruises… But what could she do? She still didn't really know who she was, her place in the world, how she could change it…

Her attempts to understand their situation and form relationships in the kitchen didn't seem to be enough, although she tried her best to follow whatever small directives they felt comfortable giving her. So far that had consisted of asking Danarius for permission to learn how to hunt with some of the elven hunters (framed as an opportunity to practice archery), promising to always send back an empty plate on the occasion she dined with anyone important (Sophia assumed there was some significance to this?), and requesting Kathari be put in charge of meeting her personal needs, like bathing and dressing. Although Sophia had argued against this last one, stating firmly that she was capable of attending to her own needs, and Claus had had to pull her aside and address the real reason behind this. He stated that it would protect her from being used by the other members of the household in an unsavory manner, and because Sophia always made sure the pregnant elf ate and was afforded plenty of rest. Put in this context, it was difficult for her to refuse.

Still, she had a lot of free time, which she spent either training or reading. Learning. She read books about science and medicine, which always made her brows wrinkle and her mouth pout in disapproval simply because it was so… wrong. Although she had no idea how she knew this. Julius thought the expression hilarious, and recommended several more texts just to laugh at her face and her supposed ignorance.

Vexed, Sophia then made the mistake of trying to argue with him. She went off on a rant about why bloodletting was stupid and barbaric, and he stated with much contempt, "This practice was based off of menstruation, you know. Why else would women bleed except to purge the body of bad humors? We are not so barbaric as to think it is a sign of defilement, or a curse…"

Sophia's voice was filled with just as much derision. "Menstruation is necessary for procreation. It has nothing to do with humors."

"Or perhaps it regulates the humors, and that regulation is necessary for procreation?" He stated this sarcastically, as if it were common knowledge.

"So if you perform bloodletting on a woman who is not menstruating, as an alternative means of regulating said humors, she can become pregnant?"

Julius looked taken aback, his brow scrunched in thought. "I would imagine so, although I'm not sure that has actually been tested."

Sophia rolled her eyes, and left the table to browse the section on magic.

This section, the largest in the library, was the most difficult to understand. A majority of the books she plucked from the shelf were indecipherable, complicated and relying heavily on prior knowledge of rune meaning, combinations, and esoteric terminology. She found a few beginning texts, and was learning, trying to find some indiscriminate way to investigate the markings on her arms. But she couldn't find anything that would attempt to explain her situation.

Her next go-to were books about war and war strategies. She remembered odd things about said strategies and their relationship to politics, which sparked up lively debates with several scholarly types that frequented the room. Further inquiry demonstrated that they were Danarius' contemporaries and colleagues, although they seemed outwardly less malicious. Fascinating.

In any case, more than one evening was spent debating the merits of attrition warfare and the logistics of blockades, or the potential means to counterattack guerrilla attacks in enemy territory. She used diagrams to explain Fabian strategy, relating the defense against Carthage as a demonstration of anecdotal evidence about the possibility of utilizing attrition warfare and indirection, while abstaining from pitched battles or frontal assaults. They poured over maps, and helped her identify various choke points and decisive points present in Thedas' history of war. They were heavily invested in a Civil War that had just started in a southern country called Orlais, and Sophia and the others agreed that if the crown were to be determined through military means, it would belong to Grand Duke Gaspard in the near future. Celene relied heavily on her captains and chevaliers for direction, lacking the military experience to make executive decisions on their behalf.

Another point of fascination for her was the religions present in Thedas. There was a substantial section of the library devoted just to the Old Gods and the Imperial Chantry. There were also books about the function of the Chantry in Ferelden and Orlais, as well as several texts of the belief systems of the Avvar and the Elvhen Creators. Sophia was sure these last two subjects were present to fulfill some kind of curiosity prompted by a fascination with the exoticism of said religions and peoples. Sophia thought it fascinating because its impact on politics (as demonstrated with the presence of the Exhaulted March) and a feeling of familiarity looking over the names of the Elvhen Pantheon. Which was frustrating because the connection was not at all readily apparent. Why in the world would she be familiar with elvhen deities whose presence clung on the prolongation of a dying culture?

She huffed at the book in irritation at her ignorance, which Julius interpreted to mean she thought the belief system archaic and ridiculous. He then proceeded to try to commiserate with her on the said ridiculousness of these texts even being present in the library, and began rambling about Danarius' compulsive habits to collect everything…

Good lord, she did not need this right now. She skipped off to find Ash, and accidentally met Danarius in the hallway. "Lucilla, there you are. I would like to inform you that you will be given a special opportunity tomorrow during practice."

"A special opportunity Grandfather?" Sophia watched with calculation as the man's eyes flashed in irritation at the address, before he covered it with a sneer attempting to pass as a smile.

"You will be facing demons. Are you not excited? Finally, a chance to prove your worth if you decide to become a Seeker."

Sophia felt the blood leave her face in trepidation, but forced a smile on her lips. "I'm looking forward to it." He swept away, and Sophia nearly jogged to the kitchen. She saw several elven staff cooking and cleaning, waved and smiled at Kathari who was washing dishes in a soapy basin, and looked around carefully for her friend. Ash appeared from behind an archway, noticed her reticence, and waved off her caution. "They won't care. Th'ea, Sophia? Ma itha geal'un."

That was not something she was worried about, actually, but the fact that Ash thought so… Interesting. "Demons, ma falon! He wants me to fight demons! Ar ame nedan, surely?"

Sophia was gratified to see the fear and worry on her friend's face, if only as a testament to how close the two have grown over the past few weeks. Who knew curse words could prove to be such an effective method of bonding? She saw the surrounding elves in the kitchen giving her odd looks, especially as Ash came forward and offered a hug of reassurance. Sophia accepted, and had to bite her lip as she registered the sensitivity of her skin. So this is what touching people with these scars felt like? Shit. Still, she tugged the girl closer into an actual hug.

They broke apart, and Sophia could see Ash smiling bravely, her white-blonde hair braided behind her. "We'll figure out a way, Sophia."

Sophia awoke the next morning to a familiar pillow of tears and a sick feeling in her stomach. She had the kind of dream you get when you can only remember images and utterances, but the feelings… They crept beneath the surface of her skin and filled her body. There was this sick thrumming, a filthy want, an edge of desperation… a song, the whispers off-key, the vibrations uncomfortable to the point of nausea in her chest… She remembered grasped red fingers, and their voices screaming in self-righteous anger "You WILL release us!"

She was more than a little disturbed, and had to sit up, conscious of the way her nightgown pulled uncomfortably on the sensitive skin of her thigh. She tried to take gasping breaths. She wanted to simply shake the feeling off, but it seemed to intensify, and looking down at her arms, the scars almost seemed to glow for a minute… She was a fool. Leisurely debating points of strategy and arrogantly attempting to understand advanced magic, when she should be researching lyrium and demons.

She still had time to visit the library one last time, though, before she headed off against the demon. Might as well make it count.

She stared uneasily into the mirror she had finally been afforded due to Julius's influence, and sighed in exasperation at her hair. An unruly mess of black curls, which had been something of a shock… it felt like her hair should be lighter. And her face felt unfamiliar, something… missing. An absence of freckles, or a too-petite nose. Something. Her eyes were somewhat comforting, although she could swear they were a few touches darker than what felt right… More of a dark chocolate now. It was almost strange enough to ignore the delicate swirls of deep crimson grazing the side of her jaw and brushing the underside of her ears. Growling a bit at the anxiety this activity caused, Sophia splashed water in her face and ran a brush through her hair impatiently.

After eating and performing her morning ablations, Sophia fairly trotted across the mansion in her attempts to enter the library. Once she came through the doors, she was greeted familiarly by some of the older individuals she had been debating with. She gave a couple a cheeky grin, and one a wave, before she bounded over to the magic section. Such was her enthusiasm that she almost ran into a handsome young man leaning on the shelves, reading a book propped open with one hand while the other stroked the end of his rather impressive mustache.

He looked over to her almost absentmindedly, and then started when he saw the tattoos. "Ah, you're her aren't you?" He looked her up and down with academic curiosity. "Fascinating. And the fact that you still live… What are you doing in the library?"

Something about his face was striking a chord in her, similar to when she had been reading about the Pantheon. Why? What about this person, or that book was familiar? Like an uncomfortable case of deja-vu. Sophia fought off the itching. Could nostalgia itch?

"Reading books? What else does one use a library for?"

His lip twitched in irritation. "Well yes, but why did he let you in here?"

"He? I assume you are referring to Magister Danarius? My grandfather?"

The man's eyebrows shot to his hairline in surprise. "His granddaughter?" He looked Sophia over again, his eyes narrowing in on her scars several times during the course of the evaluation. He then peered in her eyes with obvious skepticism, "Do you actually believe that?"

Of course not. But this hardly seemed the right time to admit to such. Sophia was still unsure about Danarius' endgame. If he intended for her to be a bodyguard, or his champion, then why come up with this ruse? She remained silent, head tilted as she gave the man in front of her an intense look. Who was he? Why was he here asking these questions? A spy? She had expected one sooner or later.

The man grew contemplative in the wake of her silence. "Well you don't seem to be an imbecile at least."

An imbecile. Great. Is this what people thought of her? Sophia couldn't help the curl of her lips downwards in irritation and offense. "No. However the same cannot be said of you." What kind of man would talk about this in the open?

He had the gall to laugh. As if she was being naïve, but that ignorance was somehow charming. Or he was just being a condescending asshole. If Sophia could read minds…

His smile grew easy after he finished chortling. "My name is Dorian Pavus. You must be Lucilla."

Sophia picked up the insinuation immediately. She remembered her discussion about the families in the magisterium with Ash, and he looked too young to be a Magister, so… "An Altus from the House of Pavus? To what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?" This may have been said with a touch of sarcasm. Or maybe more than a touch.

"Did he not tell you? Your… grandfather. He advertised your trial with the demon later today with some zeal. And of course, a majority of the magisters were skeptical, if not curious, and had to see for themselves… You will have quite the audience later."

Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. This is not what she needed right now… Sophia tried to let as little of this rising panic and inner censure on her face as possible, but couldn't stop from frowning. "I see."

"You don't look pleased."

Sophia remembered a quote from somewhere, and felt it applicable. "Life is not a spectacle or a feast; it is a predicament."

His gaze became curious, his eyes narrowing and lips puckering ever so slightly… But then a man fairly shoved her from her place beside the bookshelf with a hard shoulder and a sneer.

Sophia could not help the loud, "Excuse me?" as she was jostled back closer to Dorian.

"There is no excuse for you. Why Danarius bothers with such a chit… And you're not even a mage, apparently. So you have no need to be here. Soporati," he fairly growled the term, gesturing to the magic section with an ever present sneer.

Sophia openly scowled at the man, but turned away before she lost control and snapped at him. With her luck, he would probably turn out to be someone important. Grimacing, and trying to get control of her feelings, she belatedly realized that Dorian was following her long strides out from behind the bookshelves. She spun around to face him, but he put his hands up in surrender. Sophia sighed and kept walking.

They came across one of the gentlemen she had been debating with only a day prior. He greeted Dorian with a nod of acknowledgment, and her with a smile. "Lucilla! There you are. I was wondering if you would be willing to play a game of chess with me? With your natural inclination for strategy, I imagine you would make a worthy opponent."

Dorian interrupted smoothly. "I apologize Magister Naevius, but she just agreed to a game with me. And my father and I so rarely find ourselves in this part of the Capital… I hope you won't mind acquiescing just this once?"

That man was a Magister? Although, now that she thought about it, who else would be considered Danarius' contemporaries? Still, Sophia glanced warily at the young man for interceding. What was he after?

The Magister's lips tightened slightly, but otherwise his expression was smooth. "Of course, Dorian. And do say hello to your father for me? I haven't had the opportunity to visit for over a month."

Dorian nodded, and lightly touched the area between her shoulder blades, herding her to one of the open chess tables positioned next to the window. She sat down as graciously as she could, then looked at him in suspicion.

He raised one eyebrow at her, before setting up the board. He made the first move, pushing a pawn forward with his index finger with almost reckless abandon, before he remarked on the encounter in the bookshelves.

"Do people often treat you like that? Or is a closer representation Naevius' reception?"

She ignored his second question. "No. Most are not openly that… rude."

"And you walked away." He said it like it was a statement, but there was clearly a question.

"Rudeness is the weak person's imitation of strength. How could I begrudge him when he obviously has so little?" That last part may have been a bit snide… Sophia hated to be man-handled.

Dorian's lips rose in clear amusement. "Indeed." He watched her move a knight from behind the safety of her pawns in curiosity, before adding, "Did you know his great-niece will be attending the…festivities later today?"

Sophia quirked her head curiously. "The magister Naevius?"

"Mmhm. Maevaris Tilani, related through her late mother I believe."

Sophia raised a brow. That name sounded familiar, but she couldn't remember why. Someone Ash had mentioned in passing?

"The woman who recently took her father's seat through cunning machinations? Her whole life seems to be something of a scandal- such an admirable woman. In any case, no one knows for sure why she is coming here."

Sophia stared. Why was he telling her this? "I see. And why are you here?"

"Me? I am interested in magical possibilities, my dear. In research beyond our current knowledge, in learning more about our potential when it is not bogged down because of complacency."

Sophia could feel herself frowning again. "To what end?"

Dorian raised a curious brow. "Pardon?"

Sophia continued her train of thought, her voice gaining fervor as she passionately bemoaned her situation, "Potential and possibilities to what end? Is this your attempt to gain knowledge for knowledge's sake? But what happens when that knowledge is applied, and people suffer as a result? Or are they simply necessary sacrifices in the pursuit of progress?"

Dorian looked taken aback. "Why does knowledge need to necessitate suffering?"

"It doesn't. But are you conducting research in order to help people?"

He frowned. "Not necessarily?"

Sophia nodded. "If your research does not have a specified purpose, then doesn't it carry the potential that you will learn things that could cause people harm?"

Dorian seemed to take offense, forgetting about the chessboard as he drew back to cross his arms defensively, frowning. "My research is purely theoretical…"

"So it is impossible to apply?"

"Well, no…"

"Then doesn't it carry the possibility that someone will try, even if it is not you? With devastating effects?"

Dorian remained silent, but his stare grew intense.

Sophia sighed, and then gestured down on the deep scars visible on her hands and forearms. "This procedure was so painful I lost all of my memories. I wake up to tears in my pillow every morning on the days I manage to sleep because of the throbbing. I cannot touch anyone or anything without flinching. And why? To fulfill someone's idle curiosity? To fulfill some kind of dark purpose? But do I truly deserve any of this suffering?"

"No, of course not." He was still frowning, but his gaze grew contemplative. He idly traced his chin with a finger as he added, "Who are you?"

Sophia felt like snorting, for some odd reason. She moved her knight and captured a bishop. "A girl trapped in a gilded cage."

Dorian nodded absentmindedly. And then changed the subject. "Magister Naevius mentioned you were skilled with strategy?"

"I enjoy debating war and political strategy."

Dorian's lips spread into a smirk. "Let's see what you have to say. I admit, my expectations are rather high at this point."

Sophia gave him a crooked smile in return, feeling more comfortable now that they were discussing something familiar and… safe. Comparatively.

"I will do my best. I would hate to disappoint."

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age.

Translation/Explanations:

Th'ea? = Are you okay?

Ma itha geal'un = You look frightened.

Ara me nedan = I am lost.

Attrition warfare = strategy involving wearing down an opponent to the point of collapse with loss of personnel or resources

Pitched battles = battle in which both sides choose the location and time

Choke point = a narrow geographic space used to confine the enemy and maximize available sources

Decisive point = geographic locations or key event that allows commanders to take a clear advantage over an enemy