It was not often that Sophia Dumar was summoned anywhere. Normally, she was the one sending out the requests, asking for allies to meet her at the Keep or to assist her with whatever crisis she'd taken upon herself to fix. This was truly a sign that things were changing. Or perhaps it was not. There was a chance that this was just the first bell toll, signaling the end of her little escape from the responsibilities of her station. Some part of her, lingering in the back of her mind, had always known this would come, that this city wouldn't be willing to just forget her and let her fade into the crowd, like she wanted.
The missive was the order of one Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard, a woman everyone in the city knew, for it was her templars who had been keeping order in Kirkwall ever since the death of Sophia's father, and her own nearly fatal wounds. For all her standing, Sophia actually had little experience with the woman herself, often only seeing her in passing while she was on her way to converse with her father, offering a polite greeting here and there. It could have been much different. Sophia remembered clearly her youth, when the option had been presented to her to actually join the templars, something she had seriously considered, and probably would have done had her responsibilities to her family not taken precedent.
The two of them were to meet, or rather, Sophia was to make a visit to the Gallows, and the templar headquarters located there, when she was able. Sophia knew better than most that it was not wise to keep those in positions of power waiting, and so she had departed from the Hanged Man at once, dressed as though this were a light mercenary job, in mail and leathers, her sword sheathed across her back, hair coiled behind her in a loose bun. Her full set of armor seemed like overkill, but a dress or something else befitting a noblewoman didn't send the right message, either. This seemed to be the best balance, and the best way to openly show who she was now.
Having learned her lesson the hard way, Sophia understood that these matters were best not approached alone. She didn't hardly imagine she'd be fighting the Knight-Commander, but she had a fairly decent idea what Meredith wanted to talk to her about, and a bit of moral support was welcome, as well as some trusted friends to speak with it about afterwards. To that end, she had checked by Lucien's barracks and Nostariel's clinic, pulling them both away from their work for the morning. She didn't like to be a burden on them, but neither had been particularly busy, and she knew by now this wasn't a trouble for them.
She explained the situation to each on the way, what little of it she knew at least. Sophia suspected Meredith was tired of waiting on her move, and hoped to glean Sophia's intentions from her, or perhaps try to steer her towards something in particular. That was no surprise. The nobility, as she had heard, were growing restless while the templars remained in full control over the city, and somehow Sophia was still the top candidate to be pushed into the seat of Viscountess, even though she had shown no interest in the position for over two years now. It was frustrating, truly.
"Thank you both for coming," she said, standing at the front of the barge while they crossed the channel from the docks to the Gallows. She held onto one of the ropes, one boot raised up along the side of the ship, staring ahead at the ominous island fortress that housed the mages and templars of Kirkwall. "I'd hoped to be left alone, but... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."
Lucien was dressed in a similar fashion to Sophia, largely because it was most common for him to do so these days. When she’d dropped by and asked him to accompany her to a meeting with Meredith, he also had been able to guess what direction such a conversation was likely to take. He would not deny that he had definite thoughts about the matter, but he had thus far avoided speaking them, out of respect for Sophia and to help give her the space she needed to make her own decisions, come to terms with what was doubtless still a difficult series of issues to think about.
“Well, when you spend so long trying to do good for the city, people will remember,” he pointed out kindly, reaching over to settle a hand between her shoulderblades, just a light touch, especially through the armor. “Just remember that your life is yours, and only you can decide how best to live it.” He thought this was something Meredith was unlikely to remind her of.
Nostariel, on the other hand, had elected to actually swap out the simple blouse and trousers she’d been wearing that morning for Warden blues, a very fine set of chain mage armor with the identifiable crest. This was not because she wanted to assert anything, but merely to avoid confusion or awkwardness, given that she was still both elf and mage. It was just kinder if nobody had to try and bother her while she was in the Gallows. The Templars, by and large, only tried to do their jobs, and she didn’t want to make anything more difficult than need be.
“And we’re here for you, in any case.”
The barge nudged gently against the Gallows docks, allowing its few occupants to depart. There was little civilian traffic to and from the Gallows lately, most making the wise choice to continue straight on to Kirkwall's docks. The mages were rarely allowed to leave, and only then under templar supervision, making the vast majority of travelers to the Gallows either city guards to the prison, the knights themselves, or those who regularly supplied them with everything they needed.
Sophia led the way across the Gallows courtyard, beneath the imposing towers, criminals in one, mages in another, templars in the last, passing the equally imposing massive bronze statues of slaves from the Tevinter era, hiding their faces from those wandering below them. Sophia regretted that the Qunari couldn't have attacked and destroyed these things, instead of heading for Hightown.
The templars were expecting them, or Sophia at least, and allowed them into the headquarters without any sort of check of their business. One of the knights on guard directed them towards the Knight-Commander's office, though Sophia already knew the way. They were instructed to wait upon a smooth wooden bench outside the office itself, in a fairly dismal hallway lit sporadically by small wall-mounted braziers.
Eventually, a petite woman with hair a shade darker than Sophia's approached them from within the office. She wore black, red, and gold Chantry robes, and most notably, bore the sunburst brand upon her forehead. She spoke in the calm monotone of all the Tranquil, locking eyes steadily with Sophia. "The Knight-Commander will see you now, Lady Dumar. She asks, however, that your friends remain here."
That wasn't entirely unexpected. The missive had asked for her specifically, and if Meredith wanted to have a private conversation in her own fortress, that was her right. Offering her friends a slightly apologetic nod, Sophia rose and passed through the open door. The Tranquil assistant closed it behind her, heading off quietly down the hall and out of sight.
Meredith sat behind her desk, looking over a recently written letter on her desk, one of the many articles of parchment lying about, as well as several thicker tomes, pulled from the entirely filled bookshelf on the right wall. The office was spartan in appearance, with dark stone tile flooring interrupted only by one plain red rug in the center of the room. A templar shield with crossed swords behind it adorned the wall beyond the desk, and the same wall-mounted braziers lit this room as well, a little better than they did for the hallway. When Meredith laid eyes on Sophia, she offered a small smile, rising from her chair and coming around the side of the desk.
"Lady Sophia, it's good to see you again. You look well." The way she said it, Sophia couldn't quite figure out the delivery. Was that a hint of amusement? Scorn, even? No, she was imagining things. The Knight-Commander herself had her ever present air of authority, achieved with her impressive mail and plate armor over her scarlet robes, the cowl of which was pulled up over her head and circled by a circlet.
"Thank you, Knight-Commander. As do you." Truth be told, she looked a little pale, but Sophia needn't mention that. "What can I do for you today?"
"A great deal, I'm hoping. As you well know, a great deal of time has passed since the departure of the Qunari. The city has no Viscount, and the nobility requires placation. They come to me... and they ask for you." She certainly didn't waste any time on pleasantries, did she? Sophia shifted her weight, a little uncomfortably. Meredith had a way of making people feel small.
"I see. Are they not satisfied with your stewardship? Kirkwall has had markedly fewer incidents since you restored order." The small smile returned to Meredith's lips.
"That says little, I'm afraid, in the aftermath of an attempted occupation. The nobility have no choice but to accept my control for the time being, but still they would be more at peace if they had a leader from among their own number, and for many years now they have been expecting that leader to be you, only to have the rug pulled out from under them with your decision to leave Hightown. As such is the case, I have taken it upon myself to try and persuade you today." Sophia did not have any immediate reaction, for everything Meredith said was valid. Indeed, she had reassured the nobility herself that power would be transferred to her, that she would be the best Viscountess she could be, only to suddenly change her mind when it came time to actually take up that responsibility. Part of her was surprised they still trusted her enough to want her to rule.
"You must take some sort of action, Sophia," Meredith continued, her tone firm. "Kirkwall needs someone like you as its face. A strong woman, but kind and gentle, and a champion of the faith. A warrior who can boast the slaying of the leader of all Qunari forces. The nobility would fall in line behind you without question, and together we could repair all the wrongs this city has suffered."
"Together?" Sophia asked, unable to help herself. Meredith was seemingly trying to hand power back over to the Viscount's Keep, but Sophia found herself focusing on what reasons she would have for doing so, when the entire city was in the palm of her hand, to do with what she could. She focused on this also because it distracted her from the points Meredith was making on why she would be a good fit for the seat.
The Knight-Commander sighed softly through her nostrils. "It is clear enough that you have little interest in actually ruling, Sophia. If you don't want to, then you need not, at least not in depth. I have years of experience watching over this city. Your father did not always have the authority that my Order could muster. Thus I propose a partnership: you rule the city in name as Viscountess, assisting me in managing the nobility and some matters of state, and I will continue on as I have done in the past, as a warden of the city, ensuring continued order and stability."
What she was proposing was... a figurehead. A puppet. She wanted Sophia to assume the role that her father had always suffered, but by choice. And all because... what? Was she overwhelmed by the demands of the nobility? It didn't seem likely. They were troublesome, certainly, but as she said herself, they had no real choice but to accept her rule, especially while they could not conjure a leader of their own to take it away.
"I have no interest in creating the illusion of my authority, Knight-Commander," she responded, firmly as well. "When I stepped away from the Viscount's Keep, I did so with the intention of allowing another, more suited to the task, to fully take up the mantle, so that the Templar Order can return to their designated duties, those of watching over the mages."
"And how long will it take you to see that this will never occur?" Meredith's brows were raised, hints of her annoyance with Sophia slipping through. "There is no other more suited to the task than you, you who have been trained since your childhood for this very purpose. I too desire to fully focus my attentions on the mages, and for that I require a Viscount. If you do not intend to take up the seat, what do you intend to do instead?"
Was she required to do anything? Had Kirkwall not taken enough of her, had it not demanded enough sacrifice? Why did it feel so sinful to desire a little peace for herself, a little happiness, which she had so tenuously grasped with her fingertips the past year?
"I intend to help the city as I always have, Knight-Commander. On my own, with my blade, with my faith, and with my friends."
"The nobility will never accept that, Sophia. If you remain as you are, living in Lowtown, they'll still think you're putting distance between you and the crown, with the intent to someday return. They're stuck thinking this. If you want to assist with your blade, then join with me. You need not join the Order, but there are a great many things I could use you for, a great many things you could accomplish by performing the Maker's work."
But it would not be the Maker's work, rather Meredith's. Sophia did not necessarily believe Meredith had become an unjust ruler of Kirkwall, though today had done nothing to help her opinion, but ever since the death of her brother, she had been resolved to keep her faith a personal matter, to believe in the Maker and his bride on her own. Only Elthina still had Sophia's unquestioning trust among the Chantry.
"With respect, Knight-Commander... I'm not currently interested in being used by anyone. I need to make my own way. I thank you for the offer, but I must again decline." Meredith looked as though she wanted to say something else, but Sophia had had enough of the discussion, certain that nothing the Knight-Commander could sway would sway her right now. Turning, she left the scowling templar leader before her desk.
"Let's go," she said somewhat abruptly to Lucien and Nostariel when she reentered the hall. She didn't know if their voices had managed to carry through the door or not, but she relayed the points of the discussion to them once they had passed beyond the walls of the templar stronghold once more, finishing the summary once they had reboarded the barge back for the Kirkwall docks.
"Was that selfish of me?" she asked, looking to them for... something. Reassurance? Possibly. She didn't know if it would work. "I would never be anyone's puppet, but... can I outrun this? Do I even have a choice?" It didn't feel that way, most of the time.
“There’s always a choice.” Nostariel’s tone was at once gentle and firm, because she was trying to reassure Sophia, but also because she truly, deeply believed in what she said. “I think… it seems that the Knight-Commander was being unfair. There are other nobles in Kirkwall. In time, one of them may gather the support necessary to make a bid for the seat. That’s the way these things work, isn’t it?” She couldn’t believe that of all the nobility in Kirkwall, not a one of them wanted to be Viscount. It shouldn’t be Sophia or no one—that was a false dichotomy.
"In time, maybe," Sophia said, shrugging. "No telling how long, though. They were accepting of my inheritance, but now that I've turned away from it... I think you'd be surprised how indecisive they can be." Especially when the position was so unattractive. It tended to leave only those who desired the power for themselves, rather than the city.
It was far from a simple situation. Bound up in this were considerations of inheritance, duty, and the good of Kirkwall, to be sure, but neither could Sophia’s own wellbeing and preferences be discounted. “A ruler who does not desire to be there is rarely a good one.” And there was no helping her inclinations. “But one who wants it too much, or for the wrong reasons, is more dangerous still.” Because such a person would prioritize their position itself over what they should be doing with it. History was utterly riddled with examples of that turning out very poorly for people, organizations, and even entire nations.
“I don’t think you should take the throne because Meredith or the nobility want you to have it,” he continued quietly. “If you believe you best serve this city and its people with your sword and your friends, then you do. But I also think Meredith fundamentally misunderstands you if she thinks you could be used that way.” Sophia was far too beholden to her own conscience to allow someone else to act while using her as a smokescreen, especially if she disagreed with what they were doing. He happened to think it was a trait that would make her a very good Viscountess. But that was not, he thought, something best said now. She seemed to want assurance that her rejection was the right thing, and he thought it was. For now, that was perhaps enough.
It was going to take time, Sophia knew. She'd already taken a great deal of it, but more was needed before she could admit to herself what she desperately wanted to avoid, for her own happiness. For now, she had turned Meredith down, what she felt was the correct decision. If she decided to come into her throne, it would be on her terms. Not on the Knight-Commander's, not on the Arishok's, but hers.
First, though, she needed to enjoy the time she could spend free of the chains of responsibility. She needed to clear her head, take several deep breaths, before she would be able to plunge below once more. "Nostariel, could you tell Ashton to come by when he's free sometime?" She needed to clear up some lingering issues, irksome whispers from her past.
"There's someone I need to have a conversation with."
The missive was the order of one Knight-Commander Meredith Stannard, a woman everyone in the city knew, for it was her templars who had been keeping order in Kirkwall ever since the death of Sophia's father, and her own nearly fatal wounds. For all her standing, Sophia actually had little experience with the woman herself, often only seeing her in passing while she was on her way to converse with her father, offering a polite greeting here and there. It could have been much different. Sophia remembered clearly her youth, when the option had been presented to her to actually join the templars, something she had seriously considered, and probably would have done had her responsibilities to her family not taken precedent.
The two of them were to meet, or rather, Sophia was to make a visit to the Gallows, and the templar headquarters located there, when she was able. Sophia knew better than most that it was not wise to keep those in positions of power waiting, and so she had departed from the Hanged Man at once, dressed as though this were a light mercenary job, in mail and leathers, her sword sheathed across her back, hair coiled behind her in a loose bun. Her full set of armor seemed like overkill, but a dress or something else befitting a noblewoman didn't send the right message, either. This seemed to be the best balance, and the best way to openly show who she was now.
Having learned her lesson the hard way, Sophia understood that these matters were best not approached alone. She didn't hardly imagine she'd be fighting the Knight-Commander, but she had a fairly decent idea what Meredith wanted to talk to her about, and a bit of moral support was welcome, as well as some trusted friends to speak with it about afterwards. To that end, she had checked by Lucien's barracks and Nostariel's clinic, pulling them both away from their work for the morning. She didn't like to be a burden on them, but neither had been particularly busy, and she knew by now this wasn't a trouble for them.
She explained the situation to each on the way, what little of it she knew at least. Sophia suspected Meredith was tired of waiting on her move, and hoped to glean Sophia's intentions from her, or perhaps try to steer her towards something in particular. That was no surprise. The nobility, as she had heard, were growing restless while the templars remained in full control over the city, and somehow Sophia was still the top candidate to be pushed into the seat of Viscountess, even though she had shown no interest in the position for over two years now. It was frustrating, truly.
"Thank you both for coming," she said, standing at the front of the barge while they crossed the channel from the docks to the Gallows. She held onto one of the ropes, one boot raised up along the side of the ship, staring ahead at the ominous island fortress that housed the mages and templars of Kirkwall. "I'd hoped to be left alone, but... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised."
Lucien was dressed in a similar fashion to Sophia, largely because it was most common for him to do so these days. When she’d dropped by and asked him to accompany her to a meeting with Meredith, he also had been able to guess what direction such a conversation was likely to take. He would not deny that he had definite thoughts about the matter, but he had thus far avoided speaking them, out of respect for Sophia and to help give her the space she needed to make her own decisions, come to terms with what was doubtless still a difficult series of issues to think about.
“Well, when you spend so long trying to do good for the city, people will remember,” he pointed out kindly, reaching over to settle a hand between her shoulderblades, just a light touch, especially through the armor. “Just remember that your life is yours, and only you can decide how best to live it.” He thought this was something Meredith was unlikely to remind her of.
Nostariel, on the other hand, had elected to actually swap out the simple blouse and trousers she’d been wearing that morning for Warden blues, a very fine set of chain mage armor with the identifiable crest. This was not because she wanted to assert anything, but merely to avoid confusion or awkwardness, given that she was still both elf and mage. It was just kinder if nobody had to try and bother her while she was in the Gallows. The Templars, by and large, only tried to do their jobs, and she didn’t want to make anything more difficult than need be.
“And we’re here for you, in any case.”
The barge nudged gently against the Gallows docks, allowing its few occupants to depart. There was little civilian traffic to and from the Gallows lately, most making the wise choice to continue straight on to Kirkwall's docks. The mages were rarely allowed to leave, and only then under templar supervision, making the vast majority of travelers to the Gallows either city guards to the prison, the knights themselves, or those who regularly supplied them with everything they needed.
Sophia led the way across the Gallows courtyard, beneath the imposing towers, criminals in one, mages in another, templars in the last, passing the equally imposing massive bronze statues of slaves from the Tevinter era, hiding their faces from those wandering below them. Sophia regretted that the Qunari couldn't have attacked and destroyed these things, instead of heading for Hightown.
The templars were expecting them, or Sophia at least, and allowed them into the headquarters without any sort of check of their business. One of the knights on guard directed them towards the Knight-Commander's office, though Sophia already knew the way. They were instructed to wait upon a smooth wooden bench outside the office itself, in a fairly dismal hallway lit sporadically by small wall-mounted braziers.
Eventually, a petite woman with hair a shade darker than Sophia's approached them from within the office. She wore black, red, and gold Chantry robes, and most notably, bore the sunburst brand upon her forehead. She spoke in the calm monotone of all the Tranquil, locking eyes steadily with Sophia. "The Knight-Commander will see you now, Lady Dumar. She asks, however, that your friends remain here."
That wasn't entirely unexpected. The missive had asked for her specifically, and if Meredith wanted to have a private conversation in her own fortress, that was her right. Offering her friends a slightly apologetic nod, Sophia rose and passed through the open door. The Tranquil assistant closed it behind her, heading off quietly down the hall and out of sight.
Meredith sat behind her desk, looking over a recently written letter on her desk, one of the many articles of parchment lying about, as well as several thicker tomes, pulled from the entirely filled bookshelf on the right wall. The office was spartan in appearance, with dark stone tile flooring interrupted only by one plain red rug in the center of the room. A templar shield with crossed swords behind it adorned the wall beyond the desk, and the same wall-mounted braziers lit this room as well, a little better than they did for the hallway. When Meredith laid eyes on Sophia, she offered a small smile, rising from her chair and coming around the side of the desk.
"Lady Sophia, it's good to see you again. You look well." The way she said it, Sophia couldn't quite figure out the delivery. Was that a hint of amusement? Scorn, even? No, she was imagining things. The Knight-Commander herself had her ever present air of authority, achieved with her impressive mail and plate armor over her scarlet robes, the cowl of which was pulled up over her head and circled by a circlet.
"Thank you, Knight-Commander. As do you." Truth be told, she looked a little pale, but Sophia needn't mention that. "What can I do for you today?"
"A great deal, I'm hoping. As you well know, a great deal of time has passed since the departure of the Qunari. The city has no Viscount, and the nobility requires placation. They come to me... and they ask for you." She certainly didn't waste any time on pleasantries, did she? Sophia shifted her weight, a little uncomfortably. Meredith had a way of making people feel small.
"I see. Are they not satisfied with your stewardship? Kirkwall has had markedly fewer incidents since you restored order." The small smile returned to Meredith's lips.
"That says little, I'm afraid, in the aftermath of an attempted occupation. The nobility have no choice but to accept my control for the time being, but still they would be more at peace if they had a leader from among their own number, and for many years now they have been expecting that leader to be you, only to have the rug pulled out from under them with your decision to leave Hightown. As such is the case, I have taken it upon myself to try and persuade you today." Sophia did not have any immediate reaction, for everything Meredith said was valid. Indeed, she had reassured the nobility herself that power would be transferred to her, that she would be the best Viscountess she could be, only to suddenly change her mind when it came time to actually take up that responsibility. Part of her was surprised they still trusted her enough to want her to rule.
"You must take some sort of action, Sophia," Meredith continued, her tone firm. "Kirkwall needs someone like you as its face. A strong woman, but kind and gentle, and a champion of the faith. A warrior who can boast the slaying of the leader of all Qunari forces. The nobility would fall in line behind you without question, and together we could repair all the wrongs this city has suffered."
"Together?" Sophia asked, unable to help herself. Meredith was seemingly trying to hand power back over to the Viscount's Keep, but Sophia found herself focusing on what reasons she would have for doing so, when the entire city was in the palm of her hand, to do with what she could. She focused on this also because it distracted her from the points Meredith was making on why she would be a good fit for the seat.
The Knight-Commander sighed softly through her nostrils. "It is clear enough that you have little interest in actually ruling, Sophia. If you don't want to, then you need not, at least not in depth. I have years of experience watching over this city. Your father did not always have the authority that my Order could muster. Thus I propose a partnership: you rule the city in name as Viscountess, assisting me in managing the nobility and some matters of state, and I will continue on as I have done in the past, as a warden of the city, ensuring continued order and stability."
What she was proposing was... a figurehead. A puppet. She wanted Sophia to assume the role that her father had always suffered, but by choice. And all because... what? Was she overwhelmed by the demands of the nobility? It didn't seem likely. They were troublesome, certainly, but as she said herself, they had no real choice but to accept her rule, especially while they could not conjure a leader of their own to take it away.
"I have no interest in creating the illusion of my authority, Knight-Commander," she responded, firmly as well. "When I stepped away from the Viscount's Keep, I did so with the intention of allowing another, more suited to the task, to fully take up the mantle, so that the Templar Order can return to their designated duties, those of watching over the mages."
"And how long will it take you to see that this will never occur?" Meredith's brows were raised, hints of her annoyance with Sophia slipping through. "There is no other more suited to the task than you, you who have been trained since your childhood for this very purpose. I too desire to fully focus my attentions on the mages, and for that I require a Viscount. If you do not intend to take up the seat, what do you intend to do instead?"
Was she required to do anything? Had Kirkwall not taken enough of her, had it not demanded enough sacrifice? Why did it feel so sinful to desire a little peace for herself, a little happiness, which she had so tenuously grasped with her fingertips the past year?
"I intend to help the city as I always have, Knight-Commander. On my own, with my blade, with my faith, and with my friends."
"The nobility will never accept that, Sophia. If you remain as you are, living in Lowtown, they'll still think you're putting distance between you and the crown, with the intent to someday return. They're stuck thinking this. If you want to assist with your blade, then join with me. You need not join the Order, but there are a great many things I could use you for, a great many things you could accomplish by performing the Maker's work."
But it would not be the Maker's work, rather Meredith's. Sophia did not necessarily believe Meredith had become an unjust ruler of Kirkwall, though today had done nothing to help her opinion, but ever since the death of her brother, she had been resolved to keep her faith a personal matter, to believe in the Maker and his bride on her own. Only Elthina still had Sophia's unquestioning trust among the Chantry.
"With respect, Knight-Commander... I'm not currently interested in being used by anyone. I need to make my own way. I thank you for the offer, but I must again decline." Meredith looked as though she wanted to say something else, but Sophia had had enough of the discussion, certain that nothing the Knight-Commander could sway would sway her right now. Turning, she left the scowling templar leader before her desk.
"Let's go," she said somewhat abruptly to Lucien and Nostariel when she reentered the hall. She didn't know if their voices had managed to carry through the door or not, but she relayed the points of the discussion to them once they had passed beyond the walls of the templar stronghold once more, finishing the summary once they had reboarded the barge back for the Kirkwall docks.
"Was that selfish of me?" she asked, looking to them for... something. Reassurance? Possibly. She didn't know if it would work. "I would never be anyone's puppet, but... can I outrun this? Do I even have a choice?" It didn't feel that way, most of the time.
“There’s always a choice.” Nostariel’s tone was at once gentle and firm, because she was trying to reassure Sophia, but also because she truly, deeply believed in what she said. “I think… it seems that the Knight-Commander was being unfair. There are other nobles in Kirkwall. In time, one of them may gather the support necessary to make a bid for the seat. That’s the way these things work, isn’t it?” She couldn’t believe that of all the nobility in Kirkwall, not a one of them wanted to be Viscount. It shouldn’t be Sophia or no one—that was a false dichotomy.
"In time, maybe," Sophia said, shrugging. "No telling how long, though. They were accepting of my inheritance, but now that I've turned away from it... I think you'd be surprised how indecisive they can be." Especially when the position was so unattractive. It tended to leave only those who desired the power for themselves, rather than the city.
It was far from a simple situation. Bound up in this were considerations of inheritance, duty, and the good of Kirkwall, to be sure, but neither could Sophia’s own wellbeing and preferences be discounted. “A ruler who does not desire to be there is rarely a good one.” And there was no helping her inclinations. “But one who wants it too much, or for the wrong reasons, is more dangerous still.” Because such a person would prioritize their position itself over what they should be doing with it. History was utterly riddled with examples of that turning out very poorly for people, organizations, and even entire nations.
“I don’t think you should take the throne because Meredith or the nobility want you to have it,” he continued quietly. “If you believe you best serve this city and its people with your sword and your friends, then you do. But I also think Meredith fundamentally misunderstands you if she thinks you could be used that way.” Sophia was far too beholden to her own conscience to allow someone else to act while using her as a smokescreen, especially if she disagreed with what they were doing. He happened to think it was a trait that would make her a very good Viscountess. But that was not, he thought, something best said now. She seemed to want assurance that her rejection was the right thing, and he thought it was. For now, that was perhaps enough.
It was going to take time, Sophia knew. She'd already taken a great deal of it, but more was needed before she could admit to herself what she desperately wanted to avoid, for her own happiness. For now, she had turned Meredith down, what she felt was the correct decision. If she decided to come into her throne, it would be on her terms. Not on the Knight-Commander's, not on the Arishok's, but hers.
First, though, she needed to enjoy the time she could spend free of the chains of responsibility. She needed to clear her head, take several deep breaths, before she would be able to plunge below once more. "Nostariel, could you tell Ashton to come by when he's free sometime?" She needed to clear up some lingering issues, irksome whispers from her past.
"There's someone I need to have a conversation with."