#ellassandra

“Liar!” Cassandra accuses her. But there is something off, wrong about her. The voice is wrong, sounds too much like the voice that had tormented her and the others in the fade. Preying on their fears one by one to sow discord. Read on Ao3 // Start from the beginning

Read on Ao3 // Start from the beginning

Cassandra sighs, sitting heavily on the plush lounge in front of the fireplace. “Don’t get too comfortable Vhenan,” Ellana calls to her from the small room that they keep their field gear in. And Cassandra can’t help the groan of protest that escapes her as she rubs her eyes with the heels of her palms. It was late, they had ridden past dusk to make it back to Skyhold and she wanted nothing more than to crawl into their bed and sleep. “Hush,” Ellana laughs softly as she steps towards her, untwisting her braided hair before shaking it loose. She had stripped down to just her armours undershirt that Cassandra had always favoured the sight of her in. Though now it did little to hide the yellowing bruises that were fading all over Ellana’s slim frame and she frowns at the sight of them. “You can check me over later,” Ellana sighs, sitting tenderly on Cassandra’s lap and Cassandra takes a moment to observe her as gentle hands balance themselves on her shoulders. The bruising on her face was marred by the kiss of freckles, the deepness still visible but better than what they were. She traces gentle fingers over the scabbed skin of her brow and clicks her tongue in sympathy before kissing her brow. Ellana sighs, green eyes looking at her in askance and Cassandra in a rare moment of perception softens, pulling her into a gentle embrace that the smaller woman all but melts into, the weight of her heavy on Cassandra in the way that only a lover can be. “Josephine promised me a bath would be waiting for us,” Ellana murmurs, her lips grazing her neck as she speaks. “I’ve never known Lady Montilyet to make false promises my love,” Cassandra replies, amused by Ellana’s tired grumbling as she strokes a soft line down Ellana’s spine, counting each bump as her fingers travel the familiar path.

The Romancing of Cassandra Pentaghast The little fic that could is very close to hitting a massive milestone on Ao3! Its very close to 10k hits and honestly I'd be pretty chuffed if it did, so if you think its something you might enjoy give it a read! Or if you know someone you think might enjoy it send it along, it would be very much appreciated! The whole thing was a labour of love and emotional ups and downs and it took my entire undergraduate degree to finish so I just think its really neat and hope you do too 🥺 Synopsis: Cassandra liked her solitude, she didn't need anyone to make her feel complete. Then everything went wrong. Enter Ellana, a small silver-haired elven woman with a glowing mark on her hand that makes her the only person capable of defeating this unknown threat, and it would seem changing what Cassandra thinks she knows about herself. Read on Ao3

Her laughter is short-lived, when Cassandra, not content with the coldness of her lips in the absence of Ellana’s offers her own. An offer that is gladly accepted when Ellana continues, the taste of her smile sweet as she cradles her face. Cassandra holds her, silken hair and old linen between her fingers, not to keep but to steady.

I can say all of them can I? Probably The Romancing of Cassandra Pentaghast. Even the title was a joke that stuck. And I had a moment whilst writing it where I was worried it was going to be too long because it was originally meant to mirror Heavy as a Feather (which is from Ellana's POV) until I realised that I could do whatever I wanted because it doesn't matter what I do because its fanfiction of (what was at the time) a wlw rarepair in a fandom that isn't always supportive of such content let alone wlw content that wasn't just smut but a long-form character study of a main character. Anyway that's how I ended up poisoning Cassandra and added a whole bunch of backstory for her brother and my dumb little head canon about her having pierced nipples into my own personal fanfiction universe.

Something a little Halloweeny for the girls because Ellana’s birthday is the Thedas equivalent of Halloween. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Travellers tell of an old abandoned house in a dark and lonely wood. Some say that the house isn’t there. Not really. That it appears to lost and lonely travellers on dark and stormy nights. Others say that it's a broken shell of weathered boards and broken windows. However, it appeared travellers all agreed on one thing. It should be avoided at all costs. Or, if one’s misfortune was dire enough the house would allow you to stay until the first grey streaks of dawn appeared over the horizon. But if you remained when the morning light crept across the cracked and splintered threshold that was where you would stay. Some travellers thought it foolishness, a local legend to keep quiet paths undisturbed. Others heeded the words, days added to their journeys to avoid the place - out of both fear and respect. Every year a few reckless souls took the legend as a challenge. And every year they were never seen again. Though one traveller tells of their time there with fondness. Tells of an old house in a sun-dappled wood, their only company the wind and the birds as they made their way through the quiet landscape. It was chance that they stopped there. A late afternoon autumn storm saw them finding shelter from angry leaves and cold rain. For them, they say, though large the house was quiet and welcoming. The feeling of someone just having left lingers in the air, along with the smell of tea and something they can’t quite name.  Despite the storm that rages outside there was a cosiness within those walls. Though by all appearances it looked like no one was home, fire was burning happily in the hearth, and the unfamiliar smell seemed to linger in the plush armchair they sat in to rest their road-weary feet. A small book rests beside them on a spindly-legged table. Curious, the traveller reaches for the smooth black leather spine, in the hopes of seeing the name. Before they can catch a glimpse of the title they’re interrupted, their hand hovering over the book when they hear a voice. “What are you doing?”  The traveller freezes. “You shouldn’t be here,” the voice tells them impatiently. Now the traveller had seen many things in their time, and compared to most they would consider themselves to be unfazed by most things that they come across in their line of work. But, that isn’t to say that the traveller was unmoveable.  They rise, to greet the voice and apologise for imposing on their hospitality, only to be caught by surprise at the sight before them. Perhaps, the traveller thinks, the woman before them is the most beautiful woman they’ve ever seen. Perhaps it is hard to say. Perhaps, they will spend the rest of their life comparing all others that they meet to them. They don’t know. “This is trite,” Cassandra huffs looking up from the page that she is reading “Varric has almost outdone himself.” “It's sweet,” Ellana laughs softly, gazing at Cassandra affectionately. The weight of her warm, comfortable against her thigh. Like so many nights before Cassandra found herself anchored to the lounge in front of the fireplace, warmed by both flame and the body that rested against her. Reading until she felt Ellana grow heavy, finally asleep despite fighting her tiredness to spend one last moment with her before the responsibilities of tomorrow dragged her away. “‘The Traveller’?” Cassandra groans “Who are they? What are they doing.” “Oh hush vhenan,” Ellana smiles, her eyes sparkling with mirth.  Cassandra rolls her eyes with a snort, finding the place where she left off and continuing to read.  The woman is pale, like the shadow of a moon, with silvery hair that coils around her shoulders. She is small, but there is no mistaking her presence. There is a familiarity that surprises the traveller, something about her feels like they’ve met her before. And maybe they have. But surely they would remember meeting such a woman. But maybe not, considering the tales that lingered about this place. “You shouldn’t be here,” the woman speaks again, this time with more force. “My apologies,” The traveller begins. “I only seek shelter from the storm, forgive me for imposing.” “She speaks,” the woman murmurs, looking at the traveller curiously. As she reads Cassandra finds herself being drawn into the story. A travelling warrior seeking shelter from the storm. A lonely ghost trapped in a house in the woods, cursed to not know peace. The tales are more a defence than a truth. The last wish of a woman gone before her time, burned in the name of a god she didn’t believe in for a crime she didn’t commit. She feels her eyes burn at the thought of love found too late. Lovers that were destined to meet before the cruel hand of fate intervened. Maybe it didn’t matter? Maybe what mattered was that despite everything they met at all. For the ghost the moment of happiness was enough. It was the thing that they were missing, and now that they had found it they were free to pass on to whatever awaited them. But for their love, it was a burden. An ache they had to live with for the rest of their days, knowing that nothing could ever compare. Not really. But despite this there was hope. That eventually the two could - would - be reunited. Somehow Varric managed to weave a bittersweet story that pierced something deep within Cassandra’s heart. Not that she would ever tell him such. It was bad enough she ‘owed’ him after convincing him to write the story in the first place. And she suspected he only did it because of both his fondness of Ellana and his desire to poke and prod at her every chance that he got. At some point Ellana has fallen asleep, her small form heavy as Cassandra marks her page and shuts the book quietly trying not to wake her. It's a testament to how many times she’s done it that Cassandra can lift Ellana without stirring her from her sleep. Or maybe it was because of how tired Ellana always seemed to be these days. Once settled under the sheets and blankets Ellana seems to gravitate towards her even in rest, and Cassandra shifts in the darkness to meet her, tangling her limbs with hers.  “Love you,” Ellana mumbles half awake against her throat. “Happy birthday my love,” Cassandra breathes into the darkness, drawing her closer with a kiss, hoping that if she held her close enough she could keep the ghosts that haunt them at bay. 

Thanks friend! :) 1- Hug from behind. She wakes to a coolness beside her. Something that was becoming far too common for comfort these days the closer the end of their battle drew nearer. The room is dark. Ellana wasn’t in her usual place hunched over maps and missives at her desk then. Her dreams had been getting worse, a fact Cassandra had had to pry out of her with a surprising amount of difficulty.  As her eyes adjust she listens to the quiet of the room in the hopes of hearing if Ellana was still there. She hears the faint whip of heavy curtains rippling in the breeze and lets go of the breath she didn’t know she was holding. A very bad dream then. Cassandra sighs rolling out of bed. Ellana only went out of the balcony when she didn’t want to be heard because she knew how light a sleeper Cassandra was, even in the safety of Skyhold.  She can feel the chill from here Cassandra realises as she wraps a heavy blanket around herself, slipping on a pair of fur-lined slippers. She knows Ellana well enough to know it's doubtful she would have thought to put on anything more than a robe before stepping out into the night chill.  An assumption that proves to be correct when she finds her barefoot on the balcony, curled in on herself as she looks out at the mountains that frame the valley they are in. “You’ll freeze out here Lana,” Cassandra murmurs softly into the quiet of the night, letting Ellana know she is there before she embraces her from behind. She wraps the blanket around the both of them, pulling Ellana’s cold frame flush against her own.  Ellana says nothing as Cassandra’s nose brushes against the cold flesh of her neck before she presses a soft kiss to her shoulder with an exhale that lingers in the chilled air. She worries, but she is content in the moment when she feels Ellana rest more of her weight against her. “It's the same one still,” Ellana whispers quietly, her breath a shadow against the moonlit mountains. It's as if she’s read her mind. “I still wish you would wake me,” Cassandra replies, hoping that the hurt in her chest doesn’t show in her words. “I know.”Cassandra feels the weak laugh that shakes her frame.“I just -” Ellana pauses, and knowing what she’s about to say Cassandra cuts her off. “You’re never a bother. Or a burden. Or anything else. And you never will be,” Cassandra replies firmly. The effect of her words lessened when she shivers at a gust of wind that creeps around their ankles and under the blanket. “But we're not having that argument out here,” Cassandra admonishes, leaving no room for argument as she lifts Ellana with ease with the grip she has around her waist. Ellana laughs as she carries her inside and closes the door behind her with her hip. It's an honest laugh and Cassandra hopes it's enough to chase away the shadows at the edges of Ellana’s mind long enough for her to rest. She doesn’t let go until she sits on the edge of the rumpled bed, the weight of Ellana welcome in her lap as she rests her chin on her shoulder. “I’d ask you to promise to wake me next time but I know you won’t,” Cassandra sighs. “Sorry,” Ellana laughs weakly, resting her head against hers.  Silence dances between them as Ellana’s breath warms her skin with each exhale.  “Cass?” Ellana mumbles quietly, and Cassandra hums in reply. “Hold me? Please?” “Always,” Cassandra breathes, kissing the pulse beating strong in Ellana’s neck. She shifts, making her way under the covers and opening her arms for Ellana, who clings to her like she’s a lifeline in the darkness. As Cassandra pulls her closer she supposes she is. Or at the very least a dependable constant in her life. Where once she thought intimacy was physical, and something she tended to shy away from. Ellana helps her realise that intimacy was so much more than that. It was vulnerability, laying one's self bare for another and being accepted, flaws and all. “Sleep my love, I’ve got you,” Cassandra sighs as she feels the limbs that Ellana has wrapped around her grow heavy. Her weight is like an anchor in a calm sea, Cassandra the safe harbour that offered her shelter from the storm of her life.  Sleep is quick in claiming her - as it so usually is these days - and Cassandra’s last thoughts are of warmth and full hearts. The faint smell of Elfroot and the feeling of security that came with it. Of Ellana. Of them. Of a brighter tomorrow.