Ashley was abandoned shortly after her birth, in the middle of winter, on the steps of the Denerim Alienage orphanage. She had not even a note attached to her, in any form, describing whom she was. She was given the name Ashley by Miss Helena of the orphanage staff.
It became apparent after about three years that Ashley was a very intelligent child, far more so than any three year old who had ever passed through that building. Unlike the other children Ashley preferred to remain alone, often in the comfort of her shabby bed chamber, where she spent most of her time reading books, or otherwise just sitting in her bed pondering over curious, tortuous thoughts. She hated the orphanage. She loathed that she had to stay in such a repulsive environment, full of sniffling children, who cried over petty little things, like skinned knees or broken toys.
She knew she was special, knew that she didn't belong in the orphanage that threatened to tear away every last shred of sanity she had left. So delighted was she to discover that she was different, that she herself was a witch. It was in a dream where she found out what she was. And before that she can't recall ever having a dream, but this time she did (and every time she slept after that.) And it had felt eerily real, so real that she could wander through this world that she had never seen before, yet seemed so oddly familiar, and know without knowing how she knew it, that this was magic, that this was the fade. And she knew from the many books that she had read that only those who were mages could wander the fade, and that she herself must possess this miraculous gift of magic. So while in the fade already knowing she was correct, she tested this. She thought of fire, and the words for fire seemed to etch themselves into her mind as if she always knew them, but didn't realize they were there until then. She spoke them aloud and a flow of incalculable fire flowed from her fingertips and her face transformed into a look of wild happiness that reflected the fire that burned at her fingertips.
The next morning she didn't even hesitate to perform this new found gift of hers. She looked down at her hands with a dark amusement and watched as her fingertips sparked with so much untapped power.
After this she made her way to Miss Helena's room and knocked upon her door. Ashley was always carful to appear pleasant and charming, which was quite easy because she had the face of a vengeful angel, and a voice like poisoned honey. Miss Helena was startled to find Ashley standing at her door with naught but a funny little smile upon her face. Ashley looked up at her, her expression cool and calculating and whispered a couple of well choiced words under her breath and watched amused as Miss Helena gasped and gaped at Ashley's right hand which was now engulfed in a gauntlet of flame. Ashley twirled her fingers, admiring the effect and went obligingly with Miss Helena who was scurrying to escort her to the templar's, who would then take her to the circle.
Ashley knew at the bitter age of three that her only chance to expand her powers was to be sent to the circle, she wasn't going to learn anything useful being suppressed in the orphanage. She was also getting away from the place that she despised with every fiber of her being, pleased with the fact that she would never have to step foot in it ever again.
Thirteen Years Later
Thirteen years at the circle and she was by far the most brilliant pupil that Irving had ever taught. She was grasping branches of magic way above her level such as Spirit and Entropy with little to no difficulty. Irving saw the cleverness shine through her like light and knew that she had the makings of a true mage. But while he saw that he also saw something that was dark and empty reflect from her eyes when she looked away, but when she looked back it was always gone as if it was never there in the first place.
The circle to Ashley was the first place that she ever felt like she belonged. It was her home. She got lost in the vast tomes of knowledge that the walls held. She often spent her time alone (much as before) in the back of the library reading countless books on magic and history or otherwise practicing her magic in empty classrooms. She craved knowledge; she craved that seductive feeling of power that tingled at her fingertips. But while the circle was her home it was also a cage that was determined to keep her locked in. she couldn't bear that feeling of being trapped, and the eyes of the chantry watching; always watching.
She never once bothered with friendship (though she faked it with Jowan) it was something that she never desired and thought merely worthless, much like love which she knew was fleeting and had no meaning. She usually just charmed the people that mattered with a pleasant smile and pointless but otherwise riveting conversation. She could pretend she liked everyone, which was relatively easy. Maybe she actually did like them, though she would never admit it to herself.
She liked to think of herself as someone without emotion or feeling. She enjoyed sitting in a cold, dark room, and brooding over her sacred sorrows. She didn't want to care about anyone or anything. Even when she was three years old near the end of her time at that blasphemous orphanage she didn't want to let anyone in. She was just an Elven orphan alone in this crazy world..
She also engaged in what she liked to call creative truth telling, because she knew that the best lies were the ones that were wrapped around a core of the truth, and that they were the ones that hurt the most.
She was often rude, witty and sarcastic. She walked with an air of arrogance, and held herself in a way that was haughty and bold. Always analytical. She was also brimming with remarkable self-confidence. She never doubted her abilities. She had a sick sense of humor. She liked to appear disinterested. She was a sucker for good tailoring and fine cheeses. She marveled at beauty, royalty and the art of the sword. She is absolutely fascinated by Elven history and magic.x0 She had a magnificent way with words and was a master of persuasion and manipulation. She had the voice of an angel and a voice like poisoned honey. She was always disappearing to the world inside her head. She was completely mad, bonkers, and insane even. Didn't give a fiddlestick what anyone thought about her
The Chantry
She was agnostic. She believed that whether there was a maker or not it didn't matter, because either way you still had to do everything on your own. She knew that prayers were useless, and just words, that they were just futile mumblings directed at the ceiling for a god who wasn't there or didn't care.
She was utterly repulsed by priests, they were revolting creatures who were always after some kind of tithe, and always sat on their throne made of rotting carcasses content with their smug self-righteousness, pretending that they're spreading the word of the maker. She would still read the books on Andraste's history.
Templar's were another story. She was absolutely fascinated by them. There was something about their purity; their innocence that she found so intoxicating. She even slept with a few of the brothers who were undergoing templar training, because they were not yet bound to all the ridiculous rules of the chantry, and she wanted the pleasure of stealing their virtue.
Jowan
She met Jowan when she was thirteen, and he sixteen. She never really was that fond of him. Actually she thought he was quite a little pansy, and she never even bothered to hide her disgust of him. The only reason she kept him around was because she witnessed him practicing blood magic, (an art that she marveled at and knew that she would someday master) and she knew someday he would be a valuable resource, so she fawned friendship, and never spoke of what she saw.
When she betrayed him to Irving, she still felt that she kept her word to him. She led him to his phylactery and let him destroy it, like she said she would. She always kept her word but sometimes with a sting in the rear that made them wish they never wanted it in the first place.
Grey Wardens
When she had heard that a grey warden was in the tower she knew it was her calling, her duty, her one chance to leave her home and cage. Becoming a grey warden would expand her power beyond her wildest imaginings and leave her free to practice any form of magic she wished. Of course she understood what being a grey warden meant –an eternal vigil against the darkspawn- but of course the sacrifice was well worth it, for what she knew she'd gain in return. She knew it was Irving's intention for her to become a grey warden when he said 'yes, this is she,' and furthermore when he asked her to accompany Duncan back to his room. Too easy she thought.
Dearest Alistair
When she met Alistair it was as if she had woken up from some long forgotten dream, as if she had gazed upon the sun for the first time. She had never met such a man in her life that had made her smile from the second she heard his voice. When he told her he was once a templar he was not just perfect, he was the prince that she had always wanted, but didn't know it until then.
After she met him it was like she had changed, as if her life had taken on some unexpected journey that she had never assumed she would partake in. And it was just too easy to like him, to actually want to know him,. These feelings that she had never wanted to suffer and never had suffered were threatening to consume her. She hated herself for being fragile for having these precious, delicate feelings. It made her sick to her stomach, and made her want to hate Alistair; however he indeed was a hard man to hate.