Hello, readers! It's literally been 3 years since I've posted anything. Talk about a long period of inactivity. Anyway, I wanted to clear some things up before you dive in!
First and foremost, Ellana is trans. To be more specific, he's dfab nonbinary and uses he/him pronouns to describe himself. I know that can be a bit confusing for some readers, so feel free to message me or leave a review with questions.
Secondly, I made a huge mistake when I initially wrote this. It was certainly not intentional, and I apologize immensely for anyone I might have offended. I romantically and sexually paired Ellana with Sera, even though he doesn't identify as female, and it was pointed out to me that this was incredibly lesbian-phobic. I am deeply thankful to the person who pointed this out, as it wasn't something I considered (which I should have, since it's a pretty obvious mistake). Once again, I'm deeply sorry for anyone who read this and noticed such an error.
In light of my mistake, I really really urge everyone to point such things out when they see them. My initial reaction (ie. deleting everything in a panic) was not appropriate, but I am ready to accept any corrections, criticisms, etc.
Thank you so much for reading, and especially thank you to the anon that pointed out my mistake.
(another note: they still do say they love each other, but it's not romantic)
He jolts awake sweating, tremors cutting through him like a blade. The bed sheets burn like liquid fire against his skin. His breath comes in ragged pieces, barely filling his lungs. Magic is hanging in the air, as if it had spilled from his dreams like that of a river.
It's still ringing in his head, crashing against his skull with a strength that makes his eyes burn. Fen'harel ma halam.
He feels frantic, more so than he can usually handle. A sob is bubbling in his throat and the magic in the air is suffocating him, squeezing his airways with unforgiving fingers.
Ellana rises from his bed, reaching for the wall for support. When his toes meet the cold stone of the floor, he can't stifle the shiver that travels up the expanse of his body. Through his groping in the dark, he finds nothing to hold onto, and suddenly he remembers the empty space at his left side. A rush of panic washes over him, stinging his nerves down to the tips of his remaining fingers.
The skin around his elbow throbs, as he presses the stump against the wall. He gasps, choking down precious breath as he pushes through the bedroom door.
In his frenzy, he forgets where he is. He knows who he wants to see-Dorian, Bull, Cass, Josie. The dirt that suddenly clings onto his palm reminds him-he's not in Skyhold. He's not in his chambers. Dorian is back home, in Tevinter, probably nestled warmly against woven sheets and dreaming in Tevene. Bull is off with his Chargers somewhere, roaming the corners of the Hinterlands and the swamps of the Fallow Mire. Cass is under the wing of the Chantry, safely tucked away as Divine, with the Maker's eye on her. Josie is beyond Antiva's borders, no doubt still clutching her pallet and quill.
Only one friend is still with him. Sera-his Red Jenny, his companion, his everything.
Ellana can hardly see when he reaches Sera's room, and it's not from the lack of lighting. He pushes her door open, fumbling with the chilled metal of the handle. He nearly stumbles to the floor.
"Sera-" he croaks, barely choking back the tears. "S-Sera-"
The other elf stirs quietly, her breath still even and undisturbed. Ellana falls to his knees, dropping his head onto Sera's duvet helplessly. The action is clumsy, and he can feel the bruises forming on the pale skin covering his kneecaps. He doesn't care.
"Sera-!" he sputters, louder now. "Sera, p-please-!"
"Mm?" Sera mutters, easing leisurely out from dreaming. Her blonde hair is scattered messily across her face, some of it sticking in her mouth. Makeup is smeared under her eyes.
"Sera-"
"What time is it?" Sera groans, suddenly more alert. "Did I oversleep-Oh."
Sera's expression sharpens immediately, her eyes hardening with awareness and her lips tightening. She throws the covers from herself, kicking her legs over the bed. Her nimble hands are clutching Ellana's shoulders in the next instant.
"What happened? Inky, you look a mess," she drawls, running her fingers across her companion's face. "You're bloody on fire, you are. Are you hurt?"
"M-my… arm-" he whispers, clutching onto Sera's elbow. "S-Sol… F-Fade…!"
Sera nods her head, gently rubbing the other's shoulders. "Just slow down, you're alright. You saw Solas? In the Fade?"
He can only manage a meek nod in return before everything spills over and he's suddenly sobbing. Sera puffs out a startled breath before she wraps her arms around Ellana. He weeps against the thin material of the woman's shirt, digging his nails into the inside of his palm. Sera holds him steady, one of her hands against his head and the other at his back.
This isn't the first time this has happened, nor the second or the third. When Solas left, he opened a void. The only mage he could connect with, the apostate that taught him of the wonders of the Spirits and Demons-one of his closest friends, gone with a flash and the blur of an eluvian. The empty spaces left behind filled up with memories of the Fade. When Ellana entered the Dreaming every night, he followed whispered trails of russet fur and clouds of broken Elvish. Tonight is no different.
"It'll be alright," Sera coos, stroking the disheveled braid behind Ellana's ear. "You're here, away from the Fade. I'm here, I've got you."
He looks up at her, stifling a cough that blends into a gurgle. How terrible he must look-face swollen and his vallaslin spliced by tear tracks. It's so hard to stop when it gets this far-when all he can think of is his missing arm and the apostate who gave so much and then took it all back and then some.
Sera makes room on her bed for Ellana. It's a twin, old and creaky, and short enough that the tips of Sera's feet hang over the edge. Their first few months together posed a struggle-sleeping next to one another on this bed was essentially out of the question. Despite how not-shy they were in their friendship, contorting together in such a small space certainly posed a struggle. Sera was less-than-pleased when faced with some of Ellana's first meltdowns.
Extra blankets are draped across Ellana's shoulders, and he nods at Sera in thanks. The woman disappears into the kitchen for a moment. Ellana hears her rummaging through cabinets and he can already guess what she's searching for. When she returns, she's carrying a familiar scent in her hands, along with a flit of red between her fingertips. He takes the Embrium eagerly, rubbing it across his lips before popping it into his mouth. It's sweet, like always.
"You know, if I had a right mind, I'd be throwing bees at the prick, if I saw him," Sera comments, only half-jokingly. "I hate to see you all scared and gloomy like this, Inky."
"I know it's stupid," Ellana replies, recovering some vague semblance of his voice. "It's just... it hurts."
"Bullshit, it's not stupid," Sera snaps, patting the other's knee. "You know what's stupid? Those little finger foods at Orlesian parties that taste like nug shit. This isn't stupid-"
Ellana manages a chuckle at Sera's quip, but he still can't look at her.
"You're going through some heavy shite, Ellana," Sera adds, determination in her tone. "It's not stupid. It's real and it's hard and you're hurting."
The embrium is still sweet against his tongue when the bitter feelings wash over him again. He thinks of his dream-it was more vivid than usual. Everything always seemed hazy in the Fade to him, almost as if a veil (Ha.) of fog were covering his vision.
Ellana remembers Adamant, when he faced Erimond and the corrupted Wardens-when he physically entered the Fade upon an instinct he still cannot place. It was still hazy there, still thick and hard to navigate through. He remembers the Nightmare, such a terrifying and awful thing that he could barely see. Thinking of that haze scares him.
It's something he and Sera have in common.
This time though, in his shaken dream, the air had felt clean like the stream near his clan's village. His vision was brisk, like he was seeing for the first time.
"I heard him this time, Sera…" he mumbles, glaring down at his feet. "And not just in pieces."
Sera perks up at this. "What'd he say? Something real elfy, I'm sure."
"Yeah, he…" Ellana thinks, recalling the dream. "He always speaks Elvish when I hear him, but I can never understand it because it comes in fragments, but…"
"But…?"
"Mala suledin nadas," Ellana recites, mimicking Solas's tone. "Ir abelas."
There's a pause before Sera blows a raspberry with her tongue.
"It means… 'now you must endure'," Ellana translates, meeting Sera's gaze. "And… 'I'm sorry'."
Sera's brow contorts with distaste. "That's it? How can he be spouting pish like that after everything? You can't think that's fair."
"I…" his voice escapes him again. "I don't know."
And he doesn't. Of course it hurts, it hurts like hell, but he can't bring himself to find an answer. More than three years he spent, his life devoted to the Inquisition, devoted to his followers and his friends. When he looks back, he can't make sense of it, even if it does add up. Ellana remembers Solas's deft grip on his wrist, those first few hours in Haven after waking up to a spitting Cassandra and a rupture in the heavens. He remembers the grip again. Fen'harel's grip. Sealing his fate with a shaky hand, and the promise of destruction.
He finds that it does add up.
Sera is about to reply when he sighs, wavering under the sheer weight of it all. He shimmies out from the blankets and presses against Sera. She's soft, she always is. Knowingly, she uncrosses her legs and accepts his weight against her chest. Her arms wrap around him and she smells like the outside-like grass and like the musk of the city.
"I love you, Sera," he mutters suddenly, resting his forehead against hers. "I love you."
Sera rests her hands on the width of Ellana's shoulders, breathing slowly. "I love you too. You're gonna be alright, yeah?"
Ellana nods. He leans further, pressing against the woman as close as he can manage. His head falls into the crook of Sera's neck, taking comfort in the contact as a child would with a blanket. She just holds him there, rocking him slightly while tracing even shapes against his shoulder blades.
Sera twists her legs around Ellana in an odd embrace. Her long, lithe arms lower down to his back, her fingers coming to rest on the splintered ridges of his spine.
"It's ok to be scared, Ellana," Sera whispers to him. "Scary things are… well, they're scary."
He has difficulty digesting the words, as simple as they are. They catch in his stomach, heavy like metal and hot like dragon's breath. Even at his age-even after everything-it's hard to simply accept everything as it is.
"It may not be a giant spider, but this thing is real and it's just as scary," Sera continues. "And I think you're being brave. Really brave. Even if you're not all glowy anymore."
A laugh escapes him, it feels refreshing against the dry skin of his lips. "Thank you."
It's a moment before he can breathe again. Before he can see through the haze. Sera holds onto him as they both retreat under the blankets. She's an anchor, a good anchor, that keeps him here, keeps him whole. He's glad for her.
Finally, he sleeps.
He doesn't see any trails of russet fur.