#beach writes

[beachwritesf1]

Actually wrote a little bit today everyone cheer

[buttsonthebeach]

The World Was Wide Enough

It is DONE!

My retelling of Veilguard through Ellana's eyes is up now on AO3. I've got so much more I want to write. Soon!!

It is FULL of spoilers for Veilguard, from the beginning, but also full of cameos and references that filled my soul to include.

[beachblu3s]

I HAVE THE HANANENE BODY SWAP FIC!!!!

The fic I was working on for weeks?! I made it into a fic with multiple chapters! First chapter is out, go give it a read!!

[scharoux]

Recently I had commissioned the lovely @buttsonthebeach for a fall themed Fic for Rhaella & Solas. What I got was the most wonderfully written Fic I'd read in a long time. I could easily picture the smells, the colors and the warmth she described so vividly that I had to have an art piece to accompany it.

There was only one artist that I knew could illustrate such a beautiful warm story. I am so beyond honored that I got to commission the talented @sunshinemage for this piece. It's absolute perfection pairs beautifully with the Fic and I cannot stop staring at it 💛 Thank you a million times Rory! I LOVE IT!

[beachblanketbingo]

Who wants 430 words of a first kiss?

[beaubartley]

In which @wardsarefunctioning and @buttsonthebeach got my aesthetic down to a science.

[buttsonthebeach]

Ellana woke certain that Solas was in bed beside her.

She thought first it was a dream within a dream - she had seen him that night, the wolf in the distance, the wolf so real even in dreaming that she knew it was him and not some other spirit of the Fade. She felt his presence behind her, warmth and plaster and Fade and elfroot and wool and lips against her neck, not quite a kiss, just an absent-minded sleeping touch. She must have been dreaming. Maybe he had finally revealed himself. Maybe some Desire demon had latched on to her hope at seeing the dream-wolf again and brought her somewhere where that hope could be made real. It had happened before. She'd imagined this exact moment before, as she had that night Charter came to her with the report from Hunter Fell.

But no - Desire was never this precise. The whisper of his breathing against her hair. The exact weight of his body. Her own memory couldn't have been this precise.

“Solas?” She barely voiced the word.

Maybe - finally - it was him. Come to talk. Come to comfort. Not just the wolf. She did not dare open her eyes.

But then everything else was too real as she lay there, feeling him beside her. Her toes were cold. Her stomach was empty. She could hear Hightown waking outside her window. She opened her eyes.

The feeling did not depart. She rolled over.

She still felt him there. The magic that surrounded him, something even she could sense if she tried hard enough, especially once he taught her. Veilfire and cold, the same soft singing rhythms that belonged to every ritual she'd ever experienced at Dalish hearths her whole life.

“Solas?” Voiced now, urgent, hopeful.

The bed was empty. But there, glimmering on the bedside table - a wolf statue. Carved stormheart and a shimmer of magic around it, blue as his eyes. Heavy in her hand, because it was solid and because it was filled with regret she could feel as keenly as her own. Every inch of it radiating him.

*******************************************

Y'all have no idea how excited I am to share Ellana's Veilguard story. Hoooo boy. Stay tuuuunnned

[buttsonthebeach]

Chapter Six of "The World Was Wide Enough"

I will resist the urge to apologize for my own writing I will resist the urge to apologize for my own writing

The latest chapter of my post-Veilguard Prison of Regret Solavellan Longing fic is here! Preview below the cut.

Ellana broke through the tree line all at once, like breaking through the surface of a river. She stood gasping, pinned between the trees behind her and the sheer drop before her where the earth ended. Beyond was more black-gray abyss - and then a round stone platform suspended in the air, ringed by statues with dragon wings and horns, and a figure in the middle.

Mythal.

She thought the name, didn’t speak it, but the figure turned to her as if she had. She looked the way she had when she appeared to Solas in Minrathous. The long dark hair, the crown, the white robes. She laughed.

“Please. As if you could cross. You never had the birthright of our people.”

Mythal was right. She’d never had a lick of magical talent. The Anchor had always been a foreign, frightening thing, an unbroken horse she barely managed to steer. She’d lain awake at night holding up her left hand, staring at the green slash in her palm, wishing desperately it had gone to a mage, someone who could have used it better. It should have been Clan Lavellan’s First who went to the Conclave, not her.

But she had steered that unbroken horse. She had sealed the Breach. Sealed every damn rift in Thedas, even it felt like her bones would shatter with the effort, when the force of the magic lifted her in the air and then dropped her again like a ragdoll, even when it was killing her.

Harellan, the voices behind her whispered again.