It was an ordinary day, but for Ashton, it was anything but. Words like extraordinary, wonderful, magnificent, and amazing came to mind. He'd never felt genuinely happier in his entire life and was a walking font of positive energy. A tune fell from his lips as he whistled down one of Lowtown streets with an obvious pep in his step and a little skip to his hop, with his faithful hound dutifully at his side. He was dressed lightly that day, his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbows, his bow and machete absent. He didn't want to ruin the day burdening himself down with dreary weaponry, but in a place like Kirkwall, it was foolish to be totally unprepared. A dagger hidden in his boot made sure he was never completely unarmed. While he was having a great day, another vagrant may not be.
Ashton was on his way to, where else, Nostariel's clinic. He'd been spending more time there than he had his own shop recently. The repairs were done, and everything that was broken was either repaired or replaced, but it still stood empty, bereft of wares of any kind. He dreaded the work it would take and kept pushing it off, always finding a reason or an excuse to not get back to work. The days spent without having to worry about it were nice, and he was... Content. If his uncle saw him, he would throw a fit, but clouds muffled Ashton's eyes and ears. Being a lowly shop owner, hawking his wares-- even if they were finely made wares-- just didn't have the same appeal any more.
He almost bounced right past the flyer before it registered. A few paces backward brought him right back and he took a closer look. Snuffy, on the other hand, kept plodding forward until she realized that her partner was no longer by her side. She barked a few times to get his attention. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm coming," He said, continuing on his way, though his eyes rarely left the leaflet. Minutes later he arrived at his destination, Nostariel's doorstep. He stepped inside, holding the door for Snuffy to slip through before shutting it behind him. "It's just us o' love of mine," He called for Nostariel to hear. It was still an odd thought, to be in a committed relationship, though not too terribly odd. Every time he thought about it too much, his feet threatened to leave the ground.
And they did as he lifted himself onto Nostariel's counter, the trim of which he had whittled, and he stared into the leaflet in his hand.
Like Ashtonâs shop, the clinic was now practically gleaming, something Nostariel had put down to her recovery of energy as well as a new certain kind of ebullience that made everything, even the most daunting of tasks, seem much easier to accomplish. And, perhaps conversely to Ashtonâs own mood, much more worth the accomplishing. Something in her life was finally exactly the way it should be, and she found herself very motivated to ensure that the rest of it followed. The counters were clean, the shelves neatly-stocked and labeled, the unobtrusive donation box dusted off and placed into a corner, waiting, as ever, on the kindness of strangers, or perhaps more accurately, friends and the occasional stranger.
She was just finishing with a patient when Ash sauntered through the door, an elderly woman with a chronic cough. Honestly, there wasnât much Nostariel cold do for her besides ease her pain and give her a bit of company now and thenâeven a healer could not halt death when it was of a mind to appear. Though⊠sometimes, she seemed to get pretty close. The woman stood, readjusting her shawl over her shoulders, and Nostariel reached up to one of the shelves, pressing the bulb of a red potion bottle into her hands. âCome back and see me next month at the latest, okay?â Her patient nodded, then exited the clinic, leaving Nostariel to grin like a little girl and shake her head.
âIâm afraid thereâs no just about the two of you.â She crossed the clinic floor to meet them, and, if standing on her toes, was just tall enough to buss Ashâs jawline, which she did, splaying her fingers at the center of his chest to keep her balance. Lowering herself back to her heels, she caught sight of some kind of parchment in his hand. âWhatâs this? Nobody usually leaves flyers in Lowtownâmost of the people canât read.â It looked like some sort of official announcement, but she couldnât read it from the angle she was at.
"Ah, most! But then, I'm not most people, am I sweetheart..? That and I'm sure that there are others, but they aren't as nearly important as yours truly," he cooed with a warm smile in the corners of his mouth. "Here," He started. Ashton proceeded to throw his arms over Nostariel's shoulders and turn her away from him. Nestling his chin into the crook of her shoulder so that their faces were side-by-side, he brought the flyer up so that they both could read it. Nostariel was right about it being official.
At the top, spelled out in big bold lettering were the words Guards Needed followed by an explanation detailing the need for additional manpower. The incident involving Lia and Ithilian, including that of the Qunari, had thinned their ranks, and now they were attempting to bolster them. The Templars may have reinstalled order, but it was the guard's job to preserve it, and for that, they needed men and women. Underneath that were details of pay, advancement, along with the usual notes invoking pride, courage, and strength.
He let her eyes sift through it for a moment before he spoke again. "So?" He asked, "What do you think of me in a uniform? One that fits."
âHmâŠâ Nostariel turned around, cocking her head to the side and pretending to assess the possibility. Truthfully, she thought heâd look sharp in the Guard mail, though she wasnât entirely convinced heâd like it. The armor could get hot in the summer months, or so the Templars had been fond of complaining in the circle. But none of that was what she was actually going to say in a situation like this, of course. âI donât know⊠Iâm pretty sure that if anyone in this room would make a good Guard, itâs Snuffy.â She grinned and turned her attention to the dog for a moment, leaning down an admittedly-short distance to scratch her behind the ears and then lay her palms on the houndâs cheeks.
âNow miss Snuffy, if Ash over there goes and joins the Guard, youâre going to have to take extra care of him for me, okay? I donât want to see him in this clinic after a patrol unless heâs dropping by to say hello. Do you think you can do that for me?â Her tone was only half-joking, a note of seriousness perceptible in it even through the smile on her face.
It was true that in some ways, being a Guard might actually be less dangerous than the things they did now. But knowing Ashton, it would be in addition to his extracurriculars, not instead of them, and it did worry her a little. Guards didnât have the most freedom when it came to choosing how to do things, and they had to follow the orders of people who might not know them so wellâor care about them so much. It was a bitter-flavored cynicism, but considering everything that particular institution had been through of late, she could not call it unfounded. Sighing, she straightened up into a stand again, and shook her head a little.
âTruthfully? I think youâd make an excellent guard. And if itâs what you want, I say you should do it. But I will worry about you, so⊠try not to get into too much trouble without me, okay?â
"I'll try to save the best trouble for you then," He agreed. He was pleasantly pleased that she saw it for what it was, an earnest attempt to actually try to do some good in the city instead of some odd joke he was playing on her. These feelings weren't a new occurrence, he didn't wake up one morning and decide he wanted to do more. The flyer had only been an answer to the question of how to start. Folding it neatly and slipping it into his shirt pocket, he slid off of the counter and leaned against it, giving Snuffy's rump a gentle rub with the toes of his boot. "It's just that I feel I can do something with this, you know? Try to make Kirkwall a little less... Kirkwallian." He was explaining himself when he knew didn't need to. Nostariel... She would be by his side, no matter his choice and he loved her for it. But he wanted to talk about it, put his thoughts to words and verify to himself that his reasons were sound and yes, this was something he wanted.
Plucking a stray hair from the side of Nostariel's face, he placed it back behind her ear, brushing the sharpened tip with a knuckle. "I just want to do something more, you know? You run this clinic and help the people that need it most. Lucien's trying to get his mercenary company off the ground, Ithilian and Amalia are pillars in the Alienage, and Sophia gave everything for this city." There was guilt in his face that he was unable to hide. Though there was no way he could've known, he still felt partially responsible for what happened to the city. If only he'd gotten the book to Amalia in time instead of letting it collect dust in his study, maybe Sophia would still have her family. "Maybe if I had some sense, she wouldn't have had to go through that."
"Don't get me wrong," He added, "This isn't some sort of redemption type thing." Not completely. The incident involving Lia and Ithilian was still fresh in his mind. The Guard should protect the entire city, that included the Alienage. Even the elves should feel safe under the Guard, not eye them with suspicion. If that made him some sort of idealist, well, then so be it. While not completely without his faults, he felt he could judge right from wrong, and if he couldn't... He had friends he could turn to. They-- she would keep him honest. "The Guard desperately need a good man in there," with a flick of his lip he smiled, "But I guess they'll have to settle with me."
Nostariel, on the other hand, hopped up so that she was sitting on the counter. For a moment after heâd finished speaking, she was silent, thoughtful. In the end, though, she smiled, and laid one of her hands overtop the closest of his, weaving her fingers into the gaps between his own. âAshton Riviera, you are nothing but the very best of men. Nobody is settling with you. Not me, not the Guardânobody.â It was evident enough in the fact that he was the kind of person who could see what was happening, want to do something about it, and then actually do it. Find a solution, and take it, even knowing the dangers and hazards. It was true that they both perhaps knew several people that would do something similar, but this did not diminish the rarity of those people. Most were stopped by fear, or self-preservation, or even indifference. Even when Ash made mistakes, though, she knew that they came from that same caring place in his heart, and that, Nostariel firmly believed, meant he was a person anyone would be lucky to have beside them or in their ranks.
She leaned sideways, resting her head against his shoulder, and hummed contemplatively. âIf I werenât a Warden, Iâd probably join you.â But in truth, it was likely better, at least in this respect, that she was a Warden. An elf in the Guard would have been bad enough at the moment, but a mage? No, she belonged right here, helping in the ways that were suited to her talents, even if she didnât especially like the idea of Ash facing danger without any known quantities for backup. She was certain there were other good people in the Guard, but she was also certain there were people whose motives were less-than-ideal, and that was something he would have to navigate. Still⊠she believed in his ability to do that, with or without help.
âJust donât forget me when all the Hightown girls are swooning over the uniform, okay?â She smiled, eyes alight with mirth. It was, after all, an amusing picture. "There's only one girl I need swooning over me," He replied, leveling a peck on her crown.
Ashton was on his way to, where else, Nostariel's clinic. He'd been spending more time there than he had his own shop recently. The repairs were done, and everything that was broken was either repaired or replaced, but it still stood empty, bereft of wares of any kind. He dreaded the work it would take and kept pushing it off, always finding a reason or an excuse to not get back to work. The days spent without having to worry about it were nice, and he was... Content. If his uncle saw him, he would throw a fit, but clouds muffled Ashton's eyes and ears. Being a lowly shop owner, hawking his wares-- even if they were finely made wares-- just didn't have the same appeal any more.
He almost bounced right past the flyer before it registered. A few paces backward brought him right back and he took a closer look. Snuffy, on the other hand, kept plodding forward until she realized that her partner was no longer by her side. She barked a few times to get his attention. "Hmm? Oh, yeah. I'm coming," He said, continuing on his way, though his eyes rarely left the leaflet. Minutes later he arrived at his destination, Nostariel's doorstep. He stepped inside, holding the door for Snuffy to slip through before shutting it behind him. "It's just us o' love of mine," He called for Nostariel to hear. It was still an odd thought, to be in a committed relationship, though not too terribly odd. Every time he thought about it too much, his feet threatened to leave the ground.
And they did as he lifted himself onto Nostariel's counter, the trim of which he had whittled, and he stared into the leaflet in his hand.
Like Ashtonâs shop, the clinic was now practically gleaming, something Nostariel had put down to her recovery of energy as well as a new certain kind of ebullience that made everything, even the most daunting of tasks, seem much easier to accomplish. And, perhaps conversely to Ashtonâs own mood, much more worth the accomplishing. Something in her life was finally exactly the way it should be, and she found herself very motivated to ensure that the rest of it followed. The counters were clean, the shelves neatly-stocked and labeled, the unobtrusive donation box dusted off and placed into a corner, waiting, as ever, on the kindness of strangers, or perhaps more accurately, friends and the occasional stranger.
She was just finishing with a patient when Ash sauntered through the door, an elderly woman with a chronic cough. Honestly, there wasnât much Nostariel cold do for her besides ease her pain and give her a bit of company now and thenâeven a healer could not halt death when it was of a mind to appear. Though⊠sometimes, she seemed to get pretty close. The woman stood, readjusting her shawl over her shoulders, and Nostariel reached up to one of the shelves, pressing the bulb of a red potion bottle into her hands. âCome back and see me next month at the latest, okay?â Her patient nodded, then exited the clinic, leaving Nostariel to grin like a little girl and shake her head.
âIâm afraid thereâs no just about the two of you.â She crossed the clinic floor to meet them, and, if standing on her toes, was just tall enough to buss Ashâs jawline, which she did, splaying her fingers at the center of his chest to keep her balance. Lowering herself back to her heels, she caught sight of some kind of parchment in his hand. âWhatâs this? Nobody usually leaves flyers in Lowtownâmost of the people canât read.â It looked like some sort of official announcement, but she couldnât read it from the angle she was at.
"Ah, most! But then, I'm not most people, am I sweetheart..? That and I'm sure that there are others, but they aren't as nearly important as yours truly," he cooed with a warm smile in the corners of his mouth. "Here," He started. Ashton proceeded to throw his arms over Nostariel's shoulders and turn her away from him. Nestling his chin into the crook of her shoulder so that their faces were side-by-side, he brought the flyer up so that they both could read it. Nostariel was right about it being official.
At the top, spelled out in big bold lettering were the words Guards Needed followed by an explanation detailing the need for additional manpower. The incident involving Lia and Ithilian, including that of the Qunari, had thinned their ranks, and now they were attempting to bolster them. The Templars may have reinstalled order, but it was the guard's job to preserve it, and for that, they needed men and women. Underneath that were details of pay, advancement, along with the usual notes invoking pride, courage, and strength.
He let her eyes sift through it for a moment before he spoke again. "So?" He asked, "What do you think of me in a uniform? One that fits."
âHmâŠâ Nostariel turned around, cocking her head to the side and pretending to assess the possibility. Truthfully, she thought heâd look sharp in the Guard mail, though she wasnât entirely convinced heâd like it. The armor could get hot in the summer months, or so the Templars had been fond of complaining in the circle. But none of that was what she was actually going to say in a situation like this, of course. âI donât know⊠Iâm pretty sure that if anyone in this room would make a good Guard, itâs Snuffy.â She grinned and turned her attention to the dog for a moment, leaning down an admittedly-short distance to scratch her behind the ears and then lay her palms on the houndâs cheeks.
âNow miss Snuffy, if Ash over there goes and joins the Guard, youâre going to have to take extra care of him for me, okay? I donât want to see him in this clinic after a patrol unless heâs dropping by to say hello. Do you think you can do that for me?â Her tone was only half-joking, a note of seriousness perceptible in it even through the smile on her face.
It was true that in some ways, being a Guard might actually be less dangerous than the things they did now. But knowing Ashton, it would be in addition to his extracurriculars, not instead of them, and it did worry her a little. Guards didnât have the most freedom when it came to choosing how to do things, and they had to follow the orders of people who might not know them so wellâor care about them so much. It was a bitter-flavored cynicism, but considering everything that particular institution had been through of late, she could not call it unfounded. Sighing, she straightened up into a stand again, and shook her head a little.
âTruthfully? I think youâd make an excellent guard. And if itâs what you want, I say you should do it. But I will worry about you, so⊠try not to get into too much trouble without me, okay?â
"I'll try to save the best trouble for you then," He agreed. He was pleasantly pleased that she saw it for what it was, an earnest attempt to actually try to do some good in the city instead of some odd joke he was playing on her. These feelings weren't a new occurrence, he didn't wake up one morning and decide he wanted to do more. The flyer had only been an answer to the question of how to start. Folding it neatly and slipping it into his shirt pocket, he slid off of the counter and leaned against it, giving Snuffy's rump a gentle rub with the toes of his boot. "It's just that I feel I can do something with this, you know? Try to make Kirkwall a little less... Kirkwallian." He was explaining himself when he knew didn't need to. Nostariel... She would be by his side, no matter his choice and he loved her for it. But he wanted to talk about it, put his thoughts to words and verify to himself that his reasons were sound and yes, this was something he wanted.
Plucking a stray hair from the side of Nostariel's face, he placed it back behind her ear, brushing the sharpened tip with a knuckle. "I just want to do something more, you know? You run this clinic and help the people that need it most. Lucien's trying to get his mercenary company off the ground, Ithilian and Amalia are pillars in the Alienage, and Sophia gave everything for this city." There was guilt in his face that he was unable to hide. Though there was no way he could've known, he still felt partially responsible for what happened to the city. If only he'd gotten the book to Amalia in time instead of letting it collect dust in his study, maybe Sophia would still have her family. "Maybe if I had some sense, she wouldn't have had to go through that."
"Don't get me wrong," He added, "This isn't some sort of redemption type thing." Not completely. The incident involving Lia and Ithilian was still fresh in his mind. The Guard should protect the entire city, that included the Alienage. Even the elves should feel safe under the Guard, not eye them with suspicion. If that made him some sort of idealist, well, then so be it. While not completely without his faults, he felt he could judge right from wrong, and if he couldn't... He had friends he could turn to. They-- she would keep him honest. "The Guard desperately need a good man in there," with a flick of his lip he smiled, "But I guess they'll have to settle with me."
Nostariel, on the other hand, hopped up so that she was sitting on the counter. For a moment after heâd finished speaking, she was silent, thoughtful. In the end, though, she smiled, and laid one of her hands overtop the closest of his, weaving her fingers into the gaps between his own. âAshton Riviera, you are nothing but the very best of men. Nobody is settling with you. Not me, not the Guardânobody.â It was evident enough in the fact that he was the kind of person who could see what was happening, want to do something about it, and then actually do it. Find a solution, and take it, even knowing the dangers and hazards. It was true that they both perhaps knew several people that would do something similar, but this did not diminish the rarity of those people. Most were stopped by fear, or self-preservation, or even indifference. Even when Ash made mistakes, though, she knew that they came from that same caring place in his heart, and that, Nostariel firmly believed, meant he was a person anyone would be lucky to have beside them or in their ranks.
She leaned sideways, resting her head against his shoulder, and hummed contemplatively. âIf I werenât a Warden, Iâd probably join you.â But in truth, it was likely better, at least in this respect, that she was a Warden. An elf in the Guard would have been bad enough at the moment, but a mage? No, she belonged right here, helping in the ways that were suited to her talents, even if she didnât especially like the idea of Ash facing danger without any known quantities for backup. She was certain there were other good people in the Guard, but she was also certain there were people whose motives were less-than-ideal, and that was something he would have to navigate. Still⊠she believed in his ability to do that, with or without help.
âJust donât forget me when all the Hightown girls are swooning over the uniform, okay?â She smiled, eyes alight with mirth. It was, after all, an amusing picture. "There's only one girl I need swooning over me," He replied, leveling a peck on her crown.