#hava writes

[hellalambs]

most recent iteration of Madoire

[haverdoodles]

One Soul

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“You’ve calmed down quite a bit this last century, you know.” Ayrenn said, dragging one calloused fingertip leisurely around the rim of the open wine bottle that they shared. “Not nearly as much pillaging, stomping, or shouting.”

“You’re imagining it,” Ohta grunted into her glass. “I pillage, stomp and shout aplenty.”

Ayrenn smiled. “You play it up for the strays that you collect – don’t think I haven’t noticed the chaos you lot cause around the Isles – but it’s mostly bluster. Are you getting old, my Ohta?”

The last sentence was said in jest, but the other woman appeared to take it seriously. Ohta’s arched brows furrowed as she thoughtfully peered down into the rich contents of her glass.

“The young heroes need that sort of thing,” she said finally. “The strength, the shouting, the sense that all will be well if they push on with their fists raised. That’s what The Boar represents nowadays. Times are growing more troubled, and that spark of hotheaded heroism is needed now more than ever.” Her thin lips, stained dark by wine, curled into a small smile. “Heh. Did you hear the way that sounded? Maybe I am getting old.”

Ayrenn reached across the table and threaded her fingers through Ohta’s. Their palms, hardened by centuries of life and warfare, were warm to the touch. Ohta returned the small gesture without hesitation, covering her Queen’s hand entirely with her own.

“I am getting old too,” Ayrenn confessed. Her voice was soft, thoughtful, and as warm as the fire crackling in the hearth mere paces away. “We have been alive for a very long time, my Ohta. We have lost friends to time and made new ones, and lost those ones too. We have waged wars and ended them, forged alliances and broken them. We have watched the moons shift their course in the sky, and new constellations appear beside them.” Her hand squeezed Ohta’s. “It has been a long, glorious life.”

Ohta’s eyes, a vivid green that reminded her Queen of fresh spring, shone suspiciously bright in the dim light of the room. “I will serve you until the end, Ayrenn. I can think of no finer honour.”

“No, my love.” Ayrenn whispered. “I no longer need a subordinate. We will walk onto our last battlefield as equals in every sense of the word, and we will die as equals too. When the earth tastes our lifeblood, it will not know us as Agent and Queen.”

Ohta ripped her hand from the other’s grip and in one dizzying moment was falling to her knees in front of her Ayrenn, who was not her sovereign within these safe walls, but her lover. Her Ayrenn, for whom she felt a respect and affection that had cultivated for so long into something so profound it transcended all language.

“I thought we were discussing my pillaging, stomping and shouting,” she managed to choke out finally, drawing a musical laugh from the woman seated above her. Strong arms drew her in for an equally strong embrace, and Ohta could not help but crush her little Queen to her chest when they collided. Their hearts were beating fast and as one, their breaths matching in rhythm.

One soul. That was what they were, wasn’t it? There could be no other explanation, Ohta thought.

“I wish I could have married you,” Ayrenn breathed into Ohta’s shoulder.

“I don’t need marriage.” Ohta said roughly, her eyes pricking at the youthful wistfulness in her beloved’s voice. She pressed her cheek to Ayrenn’s starlit hair and inhaled. “It would not be enough.”

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A sappy 1am drabble of my favourite ladies. It’s been a very long time since I’ve written anything.

Also pls ignore any current/future TES lore discrepancies/inaccuracies, I have like a decade’s worth of lore and timelines to catch up on 😭🙏

[haverdoodles]

A Fork In The Road - Hawke & Inquisitor

This is an unedited drabble featuring my Inquisitor Ellana Lavellan and my Marian Hawke. It takes place around the time of the quest 'Here Lies The Abyss'.

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“Varric has told me much about you,” Ellana said, joining Hawke by the stone guard of the battlements. The Champion was gazing up at Skyhold with a faint smile, though Ellana could not glean why from her expression alone. For someone so expressive, she was remarkably difficult to read.

“He’s been singing my praises, no doubt,” Hawke said. “Either that or he’s been spinning wildly raunchy tales about me and various other colourful characters. It tends to swing one way or another depending on the day.”

“There have been a few… questionable stories,” Ellana admitted, which made Hawke laugh. “Mostly, though, he spoke of you and your friends. Of how much you cared for each other, despite your differences.”

“Ah,” Hawke said with a soft smile. “Those were the days. Did you know that at one point, it had become customary for any of us to waltz into each other’s homes at any given time? That’s a big deal in Kirkwall, you know - everyone is so paranoid and secretive all the time. You don’t just allow people to walk in your home whenever they please.” Hawke shook her head, grinning behind her coppery fringe. “Sometimes I’d wake up to Varric asleep beside me, or Fenris sitting just outside in the hall. I’d visit Aveline’s place with Merrill every once and awhile to see how her wifely duties were coming along, and there would be nights where Anders and I attempted to outdrink Isabella at The Hanged Man. That never went very well however, Anders was such a lightweight…”

Ellana watched Hawke with a faint smile as she spoke. ‘She loves her friends,’ she thought to herself as Hawke began animatedly telling an anecdote involving Varric and her dog. Varric hadn’t been exaggerating about how much Hawke treasured her friendships, it seemed. She reminded Ellana a bit of Te’lise, in that sense - the two of them wore their hearts so openly on their sleeves, and loved everyone around them with a warmth that rivalled the sun.

“Listen to me, rambling on,” Hawke broke off from her stories to laugh. “And I didn’t even need a drink to get going! Sorry about that, Inquisitor, you must be bored to tears.”

“Quite the contrary,” Ellana told her sincerely. “I like hearing of your life in Kirkwall.”

Hawke’s smile dimmed a bit. “Yes, well. That was a long time ago. Many things have changed since then.” She looked over at Ellana when she spoke, the sunlight catching her eyes and setting them alight to a burning sapphire. “I’m thankful I still have Varric. I would be… quite lost without him, I think.”

“He is thankful for you too,” Ellana replied in a gentle tone. “Though I am sure you do not need me to tell you so.”

Hawke turned her gaze back up to Skyhold’s tower with a pensive expression. The wind ruffled her hair, setting the wayward strands ablaze in the fading sunlight, and Ellana once again admired just how vibrant the Champion was, inside and out. She had never met a person quite as bright before.

“Say,” Hawke said softly, “Do you ever wish for things to return as they once were? Before life for us got complicated, I mean.”

The red sails of aravels and the sound of sweet Natan’s laughter came to the forefront of Ellana’s mind, making her heart ache. “I used to,” she said slowly, “When I first came to Ferelden. But over time, I have learned that life becomes unbearable if we cling too tightly to the past. Sometimes it is best to let go and move on.”

“I wonder what he would think of that,” Hawke murmured. Catching Ellana’s confusion, she smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, I was thinking aloud. I meant Fenris.”

“He is your… lover?” Ellana asked hesitantly. “That is what Varric told me.”

Hawke’s smile changed into something quieter. She seemed… sad. “We are - or we were, once.” Hawke half leaned on the stone wall of the battlements, crossing her arms over her armour’s chestplate. “It’s been a little over a year since I last saw him.”

Creators. “I am sorry,” Ellana breathed. “I should not have brought it up.”

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault. Gives me an opportunity to talk about it, at any rate.” Hawke grimaced. “Er, that is to say, I don’t want to impose.”

“You aren’t, I can assure you,” Ellana leaned against the wall beside her, turning her head to meet Hawke’s gaze. “I can lend an ear, if you need someone to listen.”

Hawke’s blue eyes softened, and she bumped their shoulders lightly in thanks. “Maker, where would I even begin?” She smiled ruefully. “Things were going well for us, I think. I loved him fiercely, and he loved me. We worked as one unit, taking on jobs and defending the weak. It was good, and I was so happy to see him thrive as his own person. Varric most likely told you this, but are you aware Fenris was once a slave?” Ellana nodded. “When you are a slave, you own nothing at all - not even your own name. It is the worst state of being, and I wanted to give Fenris something better than that. I wanted him to experience all the love and the light that the world has to offer, in order to drown out the darkness he had been accustomed to. I wanted to give him freedom.” The last word was said with a tinge of desperate hunger.

“That,” Ellana told her quietly, “Is a very noble goal to have.”

“Hah. You’d think so.” Hawke smiled humorlessly. “I got ahead of myself, however. Once I began showing him all the sights and wonders and treasures, I began to forget that Fenris did not have my upbringing, nor that I had his. I forgot that he too craved freedom, but to an insatiable degree that I would be unable to provide.

“I was happy and in love,” she continued on, nudging at a piece of rubble with the tip of her boot. “And like a silly, whimsical little girl, I wanted something more out of our relationship. I never paused to consider if Fenris would even want that too.”

“Oh, Hawke,” Ellana said sadly.

Hawke tipped her chin up to stare at the sky, blue eyes far away. “I never thought I’d want to get married,” she confessed. “I used to think of it as a load of sappy nonsense. But once I met Fenris, and had fallen in love with him over time, I knew in my heart that I could want for nothing more than to be bonded to him.” Hawke laughed, but it was a joyless sound. “I asked him to marry me, and he told me ‘no’. He did not even hesitate. To him, marriage is just another set of chains, even if it’s marriage with me. We argued, said some hurtful things, and the next day he was gone. Not even a note left behind. He just…”

Hawke suddenly pushed herself off the wall, scrubbing a hand furiously through her short copper curls. “Sorry,” she blurted awkwardly. “I went too far. I know that must have been difficult to hear.”

Ellana would have none of it. She reached out and clasped Hawke’s hands gently. They were clammy from nerves, and her rough callouses brushed over Ellana’s own, hinting upon years and years of swordsmanship. She swept her thumbs over freckled knuckles and met Hawke’s wide-eyed stare.

“I know how it feels to lose someone precious,” she told the woman softly. “I know how cruel and unfair it feels for them to disappear in an instant, as if they were never there in the first place - as if their entire time with you had been as insignificant as anything else. Hawke…” she squeezed her hands gently. “Do you love him?”

“I have always loved him,” Hawke said hoarsely. “I love him so much it hurts to breathe.”

“Fenris is alive, Hawke.” Ellana whispered. “He is somewhere out there right now, alive and breathing. Things are not as finite as they may seem. You may still have a chance to make it right.”

Hawke looked vulnerable and lost, scared, even, as she took in Ellana’s words. “He left,” she quavered. “He did not even say goodbye.”

“Hawke, Varric has told me so much about you. But more than anything, he spoke of how much you and your Fenris cared for one another. The Fenris he told me about does not sound like the sort of man to leave so suddenly because he no longer loves you,” Ellana insisted. “He was afraid, and he did the only thing a former slave would know how to - he ran. But that does not mean he has lost his affection for you. It does not mean that he does not want to marry you.”

“I don’t think I could handle losing him again,” Hawke confessed brokenly. “If Varric is my Sun, then Fenris is my Moon. He means - he means everything to me, Inquisitor.”

“I think,” Ellana smiled, “That you are telling this to the wrong person.”

Hawke looked at her amazedly, as if she were really seeing Ellana for the first time. Without hesitation, she used their joined hands to pull Ellana in for a rough, squeezing hug.

“Oof!” Ellana wheezed.

“You,” Hawke whispered fiercely into Ellana’s shoulder, “Are a gift from the Maker. I have never been more thankful that Thedas has an Inquisitor like you. Thank you, Ellana. Thank you.”

The Inquisitor blushed despite herself, and slowly brought up her arms to hug Hawke back. “When all this is over, I hope that you and Fenris find happiness at last.”

Hawke pulled back, and Ellana was met with a blinding grin. “When all this is over, I will find him. I am going to pummel him into the ground for leaving, then kiss him, then maybe pummel him some more. I am going to tell him how much I love him and always will love him, wedding ring or no.”

“Well. That certainly sounds like a tale Varric will send spiralling,” Ellana said, and the resulting roar of laughter that erupted from the Champion was music to her ears.

It's unrefined and a little all over the place, I know! I just wanted to play around with how Ellana and Marian would interact with one another, since canonically they spend very little time just chatting. Thank you for reading, it is much appreciated <3

[hellalambs]

I’m hardly ever on tumblr anymore, but I’m working on new poetry this year and have no idea where to share it

??? does anyone even want to see this from me anymore?

[hellalambs]

Who are your 3 favorite OCs? Why?

I only have one who I love more than the others. Rhen is my first OC and been with me since I was fourteen, and gone through about a hundred different incarnations, but his core is relatively unchanged, and when I have writer’s block or feel sad, I find something to write with him and I feel better.

Some good runners up would be Nikoli, because I learned a lot about myself through writing him; Bear, because I love gentle warriors, and writing his narrative was a fun exercise in writing anxieties I don’t have and exploring a semi-nonverbal character; and Starbuck, because she’s exactly the kind of woman I wanted to read about as a teenager and I hope I can do her justice.

Oops, that was more than three…

[hellalambs]

I just want everyone to know that before Morrison existed, I wrote a 51K novel about interdimensional travel, vampire aristocrats, lizard people, werewolves, and an incredible mary sue character who was the chosen one able to resist vampire pheromones. fourteen-year-old me really did the most with this story. there was a device that latched onto people’s eyeballs and changed the way they saw the world, and also a computer called ANNI. three of the main characters got transposed into Morrison and are honestly almost exactly the same to this day, I just learned how to write them better.

[hellalambs]

I'm writing about gays rebelling against a capitalist government in space and you should go read it, if you're into that kind of thing.

[hellalambs]

Over on my writing blog, I have posted several thousands of words about a silly gay found family starting a revolution in space. It’s been a fun side project to work on when I have writer’s block. There’s no denseness of plot to get through, and no complicated world-building to understand. It’s an experiment in style and prose, and I feel like it’s teaching me a lot. I’ve reblogged it a couple of times here, just to try generating more readership, and while I’ve gotten a handful of incredibly kind comments about it, for the most part, my writing still sits in obscurity.

There is nothing more important to a writer than reblogs and replies. It makes me sad that the internet doesn’t promote sharing writing the way we share art. A well done piece of art can get twice as many notes as a piece of fiction, because it takes less time to consume, and you’re more likely to hit reblog without thinking. I wish more people would do that with writing. Things only become popular when they’re seen repeatedly.

I’ve said this so many times, but I’m going to keep saying it. And I’m going to act on it more often. I want original writing to be more popular online. I want my fellow writers and myself to get the recognition we deserve.

So once again, here is my writing blog and here is the silly gay sci-fi I’ve been writing. I promise it’s a quick read, and I’d really appreciate a reblog if you enjoy it.