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The strangest part about everything, Asher felt, was the way in which people listened to him. It was understandably difficult for him to get mistaken for a servant now, with all the armour and weaponry he carried around, but being in the position of a leader
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Zevran made a mental note to tell Asher that sometime before they draw their swords at the darkspawn. Of course, he trusts Asher to understand what he really means behind such words.
He suddenly recalled a rather fun fact about his beloved Warden, that Asher had been betrothed before and from what he could gather, it didn't end well. In all honesty, Zevran was curious about it, this "secretive side" to Asher as a married man. Er, almost-married man. But Zevran wouldn't want to press on the issue. After all, if Asher wanted to talk about it, he would have brought it up before, right? Then again...
He just caught Asher from the corner of his eye and greeted him with a smirk. "Ah, there you are. Had fun with plotting the demise of the darkspawn, amora?"
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He can't think of anything to say at that, not immediately, so Asher shrugs and gives a slight laugh, instead. One hand goes up, making a vague gesture- "Actually taking care of them for once and for all would be preferable, but for now, I'm willing to settle for plotting."
That said, though, he is glad to see Zevran. It's been a long journey for the both of them since they first met at that crossroads, and every now and then Asher can't help but wonder if Zevran ever bears him any grudges. After all, the other assassins that had been with him that day had all died... Then again, given their respective professions, death on the job was an expected risk.
There isn't anyone else around, right now, and it just seems to be the both of them. Right now, he could just step in for a kiss- or something more, even, but perhaps that should be up to Zevran to decide. With a bit of a smile, he waits a moment, and then speaks. "Is there anything I can do for you, right now?"
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"I thought you'd be able to come up with something," he says. But something Zevran would like to ask him? Asher could just push to go straight to bed, as it were, but he's always fine with questions.
Glancing around, he reaches out to tug Zevran over to one of the side rooms. If they're going to talk- and whatever else might follow talking- best not to do it in the halls of Redcliffe Castle. There were still plenty of servants and soldiers wandering around.
Ducking inside, he looks back at Zevran and nods, slightly. "I'll answer anything. What would you like to know?"
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But no, the other important things come first. "When we were at the Alienage, your cousin spoke of your wedding. I have been wondering what happened then. But if you do not wish to talk about it," he said as he nodded, "I understand."
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What had he said again, that day? Yes, he'd been about to be married, and it hadn't gone well. The rest of the details would have to wait until a better time, but after visiting the Alienage and with one thing or another, he'd never actually found the right moment.
Perhaps that moment is now, then.
He thinks- where to start? "I don't mind talking about it," he begins, honestly. "It's just that you never really brought it up, after that day. It's also, ah... the reason I became a Grey Warden, actually."
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"A flashy start, I would imagine?"
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"You could say that, perhaps. I was conscripted into the Order by Duncan, actually- the Warden, not my dog. Had I not been, the City Guards would have likely hung me the next day." Asher pauses. It's been a considerable time since he's spoken of this to anyone. He doesn't mind, but it does feel strange.
After a while, though, he grins- a little more broadly than his normal polite grin, and there's something in there that only Zevran will see. "I'll put it this way, my friend. You're not the only one in our party to murder nobles, before. But in my case, it was just the one."
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It takes him a bit of a while, but he eventually goes over and sits down. "You have to understand- for elves in the Alienage, to get married is- it's something important. To keep tradition, to continue our way of life. Whether or not I'd wanted to wasn't as important as what was right for my family."
He stops, feeling a little awkward. This is- he could just cut to the chase, get right to the murder, but somehow that doesn't seem quite right.
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"Ah, you did not want to get married." He wanted to ask why, but noticed how Asher just stopped and interpreted as him feeling uncomfortable. "Of course, you only need to tell me what you wish to tell." He himself had been in the same position after all.
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"The girl I was supposed to marry... her name was Nesiara. It was to be a double wedding, actually. Both myself and my cousin, Soris. You remember him, he was waiting for me in my father's home, that day." And much as he'd been pleased to see that his cousin was well, the worry for his father had been more pressing. Looking a little contemplative at the memories, Asher offers Zevran a bit of a smile. It's the least he can do. "I don't mind telling you, if you want to know. Most people, I think, would be more curious about the Grey Warden than yet another Alienage elf".
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He did remember Soris. "He had wide eyes, didn't he? I remember he looked rather handsome." He then recalled Shianni, who had that firey look in her eyes that Zevran found attractive in women (and men) and...aw, heck. Even Cyrion was probably a looker in his youth. "Grey Warden present or no, I can't see how people could ever overlook you. Beauty runs in the family it seems." He slides his arm around Asher's shoulders and scoots closer. "Continue, please."
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He isn't sure whether he should be flattered or mildly horrified that Zevran was considering Soris' looks. Certainly, his cousin wasn't bad looking, but still. In the end, he gives up with a shrug. "Elves aren't important. Or- weren't, considering how little a voice we had in Denerim."
Almost automatically, he leans over on Zevran, closing his eyes for a brief second. Moments like these, they're important to him. Times he wishes could last forever, or that he could just keep forever. But all he'll have is the memories.
"The human- Bann Vaughan, the Arl of Denerim's son- decided to invite himself to our wedding with some of his friends. They insulted our women, and Shianni hit him on the head with a bottle, knocking him out. We thought that would have been the end of it, but... I think you can guess that it wasn't."
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Even King Cailan had been similar- a well intentioned man who'd been hopelessly uninformed.
"All of us in the Alienage weren't worth anything to him, ultimately, that's why he died. Ah, but I'm getting ahead of myself." A little sheepishly, he ducks his head. "Duncan, he'd arrived then, after the Arl's son left. Everything proceeded normally, up until the wedding itself...
"That was when Bann Vaughan returned with his men and took all the women by force. Those elves that tried to resist were knocked out; I didn't regain consciousness until it was much later."
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