​Theme.

Aliases​: Ashaia, Ash, (the) Raven. She has often been described as a 'banshee' dressed all in black, or a 'siren' sifting through a crowded room. As of late, she has simply been referred to as 'Madame Lafaye' in certain circles of the upper and well-to-do classes.

Known associations: Dagramir, her husband, was a source of many good-natured eyerolls and repressed smiles in recent times.

She is also prone to forcefully mothering the likes of Arindiis, sweeping the young lass under her wing much like Askelin.

General background: Ashaia was the middle child. So you can imagine the unfortunate situation of being neither too old to make the bossy decisions or too young to ignore them and continue running around in the Bree fields, playing hide and seek. Surrounded by her older sister Brienne, and her younger twin siblings Dominic and Delilah, Ashaia - otherwise nicknamed as 'Ash' - was a studious, rather inquisitive little girl, much to the pleasure of her half-Gondorian mother, Florentina - a linguist by trade who mothered, if not ruled, over her four children with an iron fist.

As the only child of the four that Florentina gave birth to, Ash was the most easily distinguishable in regards to having slight Gondorian roots: a combination of much darker brown-black hair and a tanner complexion. Her father, Bancroft, was certainly as Breeish as they come: a portly man, with a tremendously bushy mustache and weathered face. He cared little for change and anything that resembled 'out-of-the-ordinary', adding fuel to Ash's wonder of how he had managed to pull Florentina in the first place.

From the ages of nine through to fourteen, Ash was strictly upholding her duties on the family farm: wading through manure and tending to livestock. But it wasn't until she had found herself on a lazy Sunday morning, kicking up grass and discovering a liking to throwing rocks at the side of the barn, that she happened upon one of her father's knives propped amidst trowels and shears. The then fourteen year-old, whom disregarded her better judgment, swiped up the knife and angled it in the light, growing quickly accustomed to the feel of the blade in her hand.

She turned and threw it swiftly, watching it soar through the misty interior of the barn, the blade eventually embedding itself in the opposite wooden column, rattling with momentum. Ash smiled to herself, exhaling her triumph yet only to flinch at the rough growl of an older fellow standing in the entrance to barn. She dared to glance over her shoulder, capturing the gaze of the man that would, after much deliberate pleading, soon become her mentor.

~

​Ashaia would consider herself to be a rather respectable young woman, forced to grow up so swiftly given her doe-eyed, hopeless romantic circumstances which subjected her to that of physical and mental abuse, as well as unexpectedly mothering her first and only child, Ava, so abruptly. From her experiences, she has become stronger in mind and body with little care for pity. Her words are often sprinkled in light-hearted jest and dry humour to act as a release from a focused, somewhat determined attitude and way of thinking. An elegant woman of sorts, she holds herself with some form of maturity having been gained from mothering quite young. 

Quotes that didn't fit in the 'quotes' section. All of which are either spoken or idly written by Ashaia ICly, most likely in the same fashion as her letters (continuously added to):

"A woman who pines after a twat is not a woman at all. She is an extension of his inflated ego."

"Smile. It'll either confuse or intimidate. Usually the latter when you're doused in suspiciously crimson substances. But that's a story for later."

"Do you intend on preening yourself, or shall I?"

"Invest yourself in someone worth investing. Someone who would make you laugh as easily as they would protect you from a fatal blow. Not someone who warms the cool patch of your bed and reinforces your need for physical attention or self-worth."

"If he doesn't have substance, he's a very attractive vegetable."

"Does it come in black?"

"The colour black doesn't just slim your waistline, my dear. It slims the chances of provoking unwanted conversation."

"At any given chance, she would wear black. Because she was always mourning love."

"Damn be the day when one of them finally left the other."

"The one thing I can advise you is to never fall in love gracefully. For that would be awfully boring."

"If I were not eating for two, or forcefully mothering inexperienced women - I'm sure that death would come as a very calm salvation for likes of what I am, and what I have left."

"She could crumble the strongest of souls into dust if she so wished. Nay with her fist, but merely her glazed stare."

"His lips felt like marble. Cold, hard. Unmoving. There was nothing in the way that he felt. Neither soft, nor warm. He was now simply a being that exchanged lustful passion for petty acceptance."

"She always says she hates him, but she never does. She never did. The only thing she could possibly hate is how he so serenely made her feel whole again."

"Memories of you aren't painful. They're bittersweet. The thought of you now, in the present, is painful."

"And damn, did she reign."

LAURELIN DEVELOPER TEST