#ellanis tabris

[m-m-m-myysurana]

We might both be caged, but what if we could be each other's freedom?

Happy OC Kiss Week @musingmycelium!! This is Ellanis and Elior. These two beautiful boys just HAD to meet.

[eyeofmud]

Silent Shadows

Cicadas sing. Music in the not quite dawn spilling from the trees in the form of birdsong and insect buzzing. No light in the tent beyond the hint of sunrise, purple as deep and dark as a wound, outlining the horizon. Zevran prefers the shadows, the almost silence. 

In the city there is always noise. Horses neigh no matter the hour and servants hurry with hushed footfalls in the dark corridors and bedsheets rustle no matter how slight the movement beneath them. Not all his marks share these noises, not even most, but it does an assassin well to know what sounds death can take. The rush of air out of startled, ruined, lungs when a blade slips between ribs. In the surprised glance before a muffled shout. How quietly a mark can be kept when death catches them in their sleep. 

For all he is aware of death Zevran finds he enjoys the sounds of life far better. Cicadas and bird songs and snores drifting together. 

No bedsheets rustle, the thick fur Ellanis prefers to sleep in caresses his skin and Zevran has no need to move beneath them. Not yet, not for a while yet. Ellanis’ arm is sprawled out under him, his chest rising under Zevran’s cheek, gentle snores moving enough for the both of them. 

Shadows before dawn. Under the tent flap he can only make out the barest suggestion of purple, inside the dark blue hides them yet and his eyes tighten at the encroaching light. At the noise it will bring. Cheek resting against a slowly rising chest. Heartbeats.

So quiet Zevran almost cannot hear them. Even in the shadow, even in the almost silence. When did this sound replace all others? Why does the silence in between beats sound so cold?

Why did he start to listen for them at all?

Ellanis sleeps peacefully tonight.A quiet night between them is rare and perhaps the reason why Zevran counts heartbeats is simply because he is tired of counting sheep. There has been no nightmare, no screams, no soothing after. Just sleep. Quiet laughter. 

The sounds of life. Sounds unfamiliar. If Zevran has any familiarity with the sound of heartbeats it's in waiting for them to slow. And stop. But here he waits on the verge of sleep for another of Ellanis’ heartbeats to promise to continue. Never to cease. 

Cicadas mix with birdsong with snores. With the ever steady beat of his lover's heart. Almost silent and Zevran has never been more grateful for the noise. Dawn trails its fingers up over the horizon and his time is running out. A mark is never more dangerous than when they begin to leave their mark on you. 

Matching the light Zevran shifts to place a hand on Ellanis’ chest and the thin fabric of his shirt does nothing to hide the heat of his skin nor the rise and fall of his breathing. Fingertips brushing aside the low collar so his palm can rest over his chest. Feeling his pulse as he hears it. 

Not yet.

Zevran prefers the sound to the silence.

[october-rosehip]

Ellanis Tabris, who belongs to @apostatetabris, now with better colors. Watercolor, 6x8.

[frecklef0x]

Ellanis Tabris for @apostatetabris

Two-tone sketch commissions: portrait ($20) half ($25) full body ($30)

[raymurata]

The wonderful (and crazy handsome) Ellanis Tabris for the equally wonderful @apostatetabris <3

[icylook]

Zevraholics Wintersend Gift Exchange - gift for @apostatetabris​ (ﾉ^ヮ^)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧ Happy holidays and a lot of cheerful Ellanis&Zevran moments for you!

AO3

A welcome to Ferelden's winter time

On the edge of the awarness, Ellanis takes a deep breath, tasting the chill in the air. He can hear muted voices outside, unusually softened. He opens his eyes slowly, blinking out the pieces of the dream, sleepiness clinging to his mind. Tent's canvas is sagging slightly under the snow, the weight of it reducing the space and making it look cozier.

Not constricting, it's just snow,  Ellanis thinks as he glances to his side, lazily stretching his arms, mindful of the person sleeping next to him. There's a bit of blonde hair sticking out from the blankets and furs, Zevran burrowed under them. For a moment he's just watching, warmth blossoming in his chest, expanding with the feel of abysmal longing. His fingers itch to touch and run down on Zevran's skin, but he doesn't want to disturb him. Giving him the chance to get a little more of sleep, as he knows this day'll be long. Travelling in fresh snow will be a challenge. So he keeps looking, a small smile on his lips, gaze soft and after awhile of sleepy indulgenance, he slowly gets up, untangling himself from his own blankets and unhurriedly going through his morning routine of stretching, dressing up and making himself presentable.

Ellanis is out the tent for some time, cheeks pink thanks to the cold, when Zevran emerges, blinking at the expanse of white, eyes squinting in the blinding light. He's muttering something in Antivan, grip tight on the blanket around his shoulders, puffs of breath visible in the air. Ellanis smiles a small, private smile just before an idea strikes him, the line of his lips turning mischevious. He catches Leliana's eye just before he gestures with his finger in an universal motion of “Shh“ and calls in his magic, making himself a bit harder to spot, creeping slowly to the side and leaning down to scoop some of the snow. He's keeping eyes on his target, as the cold of the snow's seeping the warmth from his fingers, melting slightly, before he boosts it with magic. Then, he aims and grecefully throws it, the arc of the snowball nearly perfect. Years of practice seem to pay back, the memorable snowballs fights from before, when all of them were together, happy, when the days were simpler and not so gloomy.

There's a yelp when the snowball hits its target and very peculiar fumbling, as Zevran's gaze zeroes on Ellanis, reddened cheeks and blonde hair in dissaray, and the view is enough to make him burst out laughing, the sound carrying through the camp and Leliana’s stiffled chuckle answers him in his amusement. The face Zevran makes is like he can't decide, if he should be offended or amused himself, but in the end he mutters something more under his breath just before he sniffs dramatically and vanishes back into the tent, his motions jerky and shuddery, most likely trying to get rid of the melting snow under his collar. Ellanis straightens up from his hunched postion, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes and he follows Zevran into the tent, making his approach loud, giving the man a moment to collect himself, the chance to say “No”, if he'd like to avoid his presence.

He sees Zevran on the floor, shivering, as he changes the soaked shirt, and Ellanis steps closer with a friendly smile, hands open. Zevran glances back at him over his shoulder, visibly pouting, and the corners of Ellanis' eyes crinkle as he wiggles his fingers.

“I can warm you up, if you wish?”

Zevran's looking at him steadily until he huffs with another grumble and he shrughs “Close the tent please, it's a bloody void out there.”

Ellanis takes it as permission, waving his hand at the tent’s opening and he slowly lowers himself to his knees, mindful of his bad leg, then sits with his legs on Zevran's side, making himself comfortable at Zevran's back. He touches the warm skin and lets his magic do the work and Zevran sighs and sags into his hands. Ellanis brushes Zevran's hair away, leaning in to gently kiss his nape. “Welcome to Ferelden's winter,” he whispers and Zevran's amused snort and noticeable melting into his warm touch are the only answers for a while.

[impossible-rat-babies]

Inktober Day 17 -- Ellanis Tabris

--

@apostatetabris I love you and Ellanis so much! You're such a spectacular person and have been such a wonderful friend and a light in this fandom. You’re writing is such a gift and I love Ellanis so very very much! <3 :D

[allisondraste]

✓ for any of our ocs?

Niamh: “We may not have a lot in common personality-wise, as it seems Ellanis has a much more level head than myself; however, there is something attractive about someone whose life experience is similar to yours.  I haven’t met a lot of mages who were born in an alienage, especially not many who go on to do great things without being taken by the Circle.  It’s not an easy life, and I think it’s amazing that he has managed to stay true to himself and his heritage.”