A/N: set when aubrie is 14
"You wanted to see me, First Enchanter?"
"Ah, yes, Aubrie. Come in." The First Enchanter motioned for Aubrie to enter his office, searching through the papers on his desk until he found a neatly folded letter, which he passed to the young apprentice. "A letter came in from your parents the other morning. It seems they wish for you to attend their winter salon, and they have just enough pull to arrange for you to leave."
Aubrie's eyes widened. She'd been in the Circle for nearly seven years, and never once had heard from her parents. Or, if she had, the Templars had never deemed it fit to let her know. But she could see them again! She could see her sister!
"You'll be leaving tomorrow morning, first thing. Ser Walton will accompany you." He looked up, pausing until Aubrie's eyes connected with his. "No magic will be tolerated. If you attempt anything, Ser Walton has full authorization to impede your abilities and use physical force to escort you back to the Circle." In a quieter, more sympathetic voice, the enchanter added, "For a mage to leave the Circle is a rare event. It makes the Templars nervous; use this opportunity to show them they don't need to be."
Nodding fervently, Aubrie rocked back on her heels and wrung her hands together. "And… my studies?"
"You'll have to catch up when you return."
"Of course." Barely able to contain her excitement, Aubrie rushed back to the apprentice dormitories, wishing she had enough belongings to pack.
I get to see my family again!
"I paid extra for a whore with magic, once. Heard there was some sort of… electricity trick."
Eyes wide and cheeks burning, Aubrie pulled away from the man – a comte from Kirkwall whose name she'd already forgotten – and hurried back to the safety of the ballroom.
She remembered the winter salon being magnificent, full of fascinating people and wonderful music and exotic dances. But this year, people either gaped at her as if she had grown a second head or prodded her with annoying (and sometimes rather embarrassing) questions.
Really, Aubrie figured she should've expected as much, with the way her mother had greeted her – stiffly refusing a hug and lamenting that all her etiquette training had been wasted, then revealing that Adelaide was at a different party, to avoid her reputation being spoiled by her sister's magic.
There have been questions, Lady Trevelyan had explained. Doubts about the Trevelyan name, if magic was going to ruin our line.
They hadn't wanted to see her. They hadn't asked her to come out of love, but out of wounded pride.
And all evening, Aubrie had done everything they'd asked – she'd sat through the ridiculous makeup and hairstyles that her mother insisted on her wearing, tried on dress after dress until they found one that fit, a garish Orlesian-style gown in the Trevelyan colors and accented with far too much gold embroidery. She'd memorized names and houses and positions and greeted comtes and arls and various Chantry men and women.
Yet somehow, Lady Trevelyan didn't seem satisfied. Aubrie hadn't seen her father all evening – she'd only seen him once since arriving, and that was only long enough for him to squint at her until he recognized he was staring at his own daughter.
Before the dancing had even started, Aubrie decided she'd had enough. Leaving her (rather uncomfortable) shoes in a corner, she bunched up her skirt and marched over to where Ser Walton was standing watch.
"I'm ready to leave," she informed the Templar.
The older woman hesitated. "The Trevelyans arranged for you to leave tomo–"
"I'm ready to leave," Aubrie repeated. "If you like, I can use magic, then you'll be obligated to take me back to the Circle."
Walton sighed. "Please, don't. I'll go speak with Lady Trevelyan."
Crossing her arms, Aubrie waited for the Templar to return. She'd been told everything there was too hear about magic – it was a sin, a stain upon the Maker's creation, something to be terrified of, a power too dangerous and volatile for anyone to possess without being constantly watched.
But tonight, at the salon, she'd heard something very different. Magic was a weakness, something that held good people back. So far, they'd been mostly correct; Aubrie had been held back, and both rebelling in the Circle and quietly complying with the Templars had only created some sort of trouble for her.
She couldn't rise to power outside of the Circle, no. But she could fight her way to the top of the Circle.