#ellana halesta’melin lavellan

[haverdoodles]

heroes of thedas

— (cousland, hawke, inquisitor & rook)

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wanted to try a movie poster style :)

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sense of self

— (ellana lavellan)

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i have lost everything.

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to the death.

— (Fen'Harel & Ellana)

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you betrayed me once. now i will end you. i will end you, even if it kills us both.

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solas based on my previous design

[haverdoodles]

A Sudden Shift

— (Cullen & Ellana)

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Dragon Age but make it ✨cinematic✨

Thinking of making this (b&w cinematic pieces) into a series :) it’s great for rendering and composition practice.

[haverdoodles]

The Burden

— (Ellana)

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“I would rather become a monster and save the world, than be the monster who destroyed it.”

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DA4

— (Mannon, Hawke, Ellana)

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Today's warm-up but I got carried away oops. Paying homage to that DADay drawing I did last year :)

(she/her for everyone)

Mannon's tired of everything, Ellana is plotting revenge, and poor Hawke is just happy to be alive 😭

[haverdoodles]

Is Ellana trans or do you just draw her that way?

hello,

ellana is not trans, she is a cis woman! 👍

[haverdoodles]

Sketch Dump !! 🌿✨💫

— cw for partial male nudity in the last piece.

Cullen and Ellana’s future kids! I’m so happy that I finally have designs for them, though they may change in the future. They are currently nameless 🤔

Winded (Varric & Hawke) mostly just an excuse to draw a sweaty Hawke with her guns out 😌

Smoochies! (Cullen & Ellana) chibi practice :)

Disaster Strikes! (Thanuil, Te’lise, Ellana) what could they be looking at? I’d love to hear suggestions! 🫶

Photo Taken Moments Before Disaster (Deimos) I shoved my evil goth son into an outfit that was trending on art twitter recently! People died (literally) 💀

[haverdoodles]

The Last Lavellan

— (Ellana)

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[she/her]

The Last Cousland

— (Mannon)

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[she/her]

[haverdoodles]

The Last Dance

— (Cullen & Ellana)

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He found her on the balcony.

Ellana was positioned by the balustrade of the Empress' terrace, facing away from him. She stood tall and proud, her gloved hands clasped loosely behind her back, and there was no evidence of the tension that had stiffened her broad shoulders throughout the evening. She was still, unnervingly so, and it was impossible to tell what she could be thinking from her posture alone. That was typical of the Inquisitor, however, so Cullen did not think on it too deeply as he approached.

"There you are," he said, hoping that his tone was more casual than he felt. "The others were beginning to miss your presence."

"They are celebrating," Ellana responded, her low voice washing over him in a cool waterfall. Her gaze remained steadily on the far-off horizon, even as he arrived at her side. "I did not want to disrupt that."

Their shoulders brushed slightly as she leaned in Cullen's direction, and he smiled down at his gloved hands. "They are celebrating you, you know. The things you have achieved tonight are extraordinary."

It was true. He thought of the way they had all watched, frozen, as their Inquisitor wrangled three political giants into complete and utter submission with nothing but a cunning smile and an iron fist. In that moment he had been furious at her for working off of a plan that he had had no previous knowledge of, terrified that it would fail... and proud when it didn't. So proud. Because despite how much he utterly loathed The Game and nobility and all of that rot, he could not deny that Ellana handled the evening masterfully despite possessing so little experience in court. She was a natural, and it had been a moment of triumph when she had emerged from that web of schemes unscathed and victorious.

"This victory is not mine alone," Ellana responded, and it could have been interpreted as deflective modesty had she not said it so matter-of-factly. "Te'lise deserves such a celebration far more than I do. Tonight's outcome would have been impossible without the information she gathered."

"I have no doubt she is celebrating as we speak." Cullen said, thinking of how he had seen Solas and Te'lise slip out onto a private balcony of their own when he was still in search of Ellana.

Ellana finally looked at him then. Her blue eyes were unfathomable and impossibly dark in the moonlight. "And you?"

"What of me?"

“Are you celebrating?" Ellana clarified. "I know tonight has been difficult for you."

Cullen grimaced. Unwelcome, grabbing hands appeared in his mind's eye for a brief moment, followed by a cacophony of coquettish laughter. "I would rather leave the... unnecessary... events of the night in the past."

"I should have killed them for daring to lay their hands on you," Ellana said very quietly. She had gone stiff, and Cullen wondered if her clasped hands were now clenched into trembling fists behind her back. She was a master of restraint, but he knew that such restraint had limits, no matter how carefully cultivated it was.

Cullen leaned into her, resting his hand on her lower back. "You frightened them off well enough, I'd think. The noblewoman you were whispering to looked ready to faint dead away."

"I should have liked to see the spectacle that would have made," Ellana responded viciously, and that startled a chuckle out of him, low and warm.

"I wasn't celebrating before," Cullen said after a moment of silence. "It didn't feel right to, given the circumstances."

"Yes," Ellana sighed out. "Therein lies the problem." She leaned forward, bracing her hands on the balustrade and splaying her gloved fingers against the marble. Such long, nimble fingers, Cullen noticed distractedly. "Tonight struck a blow against Corypheus. I cannot imagine relaxing in any capacity when I am certain he is plotting his revenge as we speak." Her dark lips tilted upwards at the corners. "He must be furious, the sorry bastard."

Cullen smiled crookedly, despite himself. "I believe you are the only person in Thedas who dares to speak of him so fearlessly."

"To speak with fear, one must be afraid. I am not afraid of Corypheus." She straightened and turned towards him fully. Cullen was startled by the sudden change in her demeanour - her eyes were glittering, and there was a cocky set to her broad shoulders and full hips that made his head swim dizzily for a brief moment. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Cullen said distantly.

"The band inside just finished a set. If Josephine's lessons are anything to go by, they will be performing the last one momentarily." She extended a gloved hand to him, her silver sleeve catching the moonlight and setting it aglow. "Dance with me, Cullen."

"I don't dance," he croaked reflexively, and inwardly cursed himself for it.

Ellana did not react to this with icy acceptance as she had earlier when he had made that same blunder. Instead, she wiggled her fingers with something akin to - playfulness?

"You don't mean that," she said with confidence. "You only don't dance when the proposal is unwelcome."

Cullen smiled helplessly. "You know me too well." He rested his hand in hers, and sucked in a sharp breath when in one swift movement, Ellana had an arm around his waist and was tugging him close. He stared down at her in wide-eyed bemusement. "I- what?"

"If I recall, you said people were celebrating me," Ellana said. "Thus, I will lead." And Maker, sweet Maker, was that a smile dancing across her face? It was beautiful in its expressive sincerity, and so rare of a sight to witness that Cullen held his breath in fear of scaring it away.

Cullen forgot the embarrassment he felt at being held in such a way, he forgot the stress and exhaustion and residual anxiety that had plagued him throughout the evening, he forgot the Inquisition and the war and the looming threat that was Corypheus - he forgot it all in the wake of the quiet, breathtaking joy that glowed in Ellana's lovely uplifted face.

"Then I will follow," Cullen found himself saying in response, and the double meaning to those words were not lost on them both. Ellana's hand tightened on his, and then they were dancing, and they did not stop until the next person came to find them, long after the moon had journeyed to its peak in the vast expanse of the night sky.

[haverdoodles]

(TW: drug withdrawal, addiction recovery)

A War Within

— (Cullen & Ellana)

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Immediately upon entering Cullen’s office, Ellana was surprised by a wine glass hurtling towards her face at an alarming speed. Deftly, she stepped out of its path and watched as it shattered against the doorframe near where her head had been moments before.

She glanced down at the broken glass littering the floor, then at Cullen – who was standing in the middle of the room, his face contorted in an expression of horror – and closed the door.

“I take it that wasn’t meant for me,” Ellana observed. “Target practice, Commander?”

“Oh Maker,” Cullen groaned, shoulders slumping. “Inquisitor– Ellana, I am so sorry, I wasn’t thinking–“

“I am quite unharmed, Cullen, it’s alright.” Ellana said, her eyes already assessing him worriedly from head to toe.

The man was a wreck.

Cullen wore nothing but a sweat-drenched tunic and his leather trousers, looking incredibly uncomfortable despite being clothed in far less layers than he usually wore. Ellana could spy his armour and furs tossed haphazardly across the room, as if he had been pulling them off in a hurry. His hair was uncharacteristically tousled from being tugged at repeatedly, and his face was more haggard than Ellana had ever seen it – and she had seen him after some particularly brutal battles.

He looked miserable, she deduced with a pang. Cullen looked desperately as though he wished to rush over and sweep her in his arms, though instead he hung back uncertainly, his arms wrapped around his waist like a nervous boy.

“Cullen,” Ellana breathed. “I told you to tell me if it was getting worse.”

Cullen flushed and averted his face from hers, his shoulders curving further inward in an unconscious display of shame. “I didn’t… I didn’t want you to see me like this. Like an addict.”

Ellana shook her head, stepping carefully over the broken glass and entering further into his office. ‘He certainly spared no object,’ she thought, eyeing the scattered papers and splintered wood that surrounded them both.

“You are addicted to lyrium,” she said gently, “And you are recovering. This has never been a deterrent for me, you know that.”

Cullen still wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Every day, I wake up fearing that your opinion has changed.”

“An irrational fear,” she reminded him. “I am not going anywhere, Cullen, whether you like it or not.”

Ellana took a seat on the edge of his desk and opened her arms invitingly. Cullen wasted no time sinking into her embrace, releasing a shaky sigh. He buried his face in her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her slender frame. Ellana had grown accustomed to his bear hugs, and actually quite enjoyed them, but this time was different. He was hugging her not out of joy, but out of pain and fear.

“Where does it hurt, vhen’an?” Ellana whispered, reaching up to wrap her arms across his broad back.

“Everywhere,” Cullen hissed, just as a shudder wracked his frame. He groaned. “It feels as though my bones are grinding themselves together. I can’t – I can’t breathe, I can’t think – I should be taking it.”

“No, Cullen.” She told him firmly.

Cullen tensed, recoiling from her touch. “Do you wish to see me suffer?” He half-sobbed, gripping at her shirt with a vengeance she knew was not truly directed at her. “I have men who depend on me, men who trust me to lead them into battle and bring them home. How can I do that if I am like… this?”

“Cullen, listen to me,” Ellana snapped. She was using her Inquisitor tone, and she hated it, but she knew it was the only way to snag his attention. “It is because your men depend on you that you are doing this, remember? You wish to break free from the Chantry’s shackles, to prove to Templars and addicts everywhere that ties to lyrium can be broken. The soldiers know this. They admire you for it.”

“It hurts,” Cullen whimpered. “My blood is on fire. I can hear the lyrium singing. It’s so beautiful…” He was shivering now - Ellana shifted closer so that the entire front of her body was pressed against his, in an effort to lend him some of her heat. Her heart ached.

“My sweet Cullen,” Ellana whispered, stroking a hand through his sweaty curls. “You are so brave. I am so proud of you, vhen’an. So proud.”

“I love you,” he managed to say, before releasing a deep groan of agony. Cullen slumped bonelessly against her, and Ellana could feel his erratic heartbeat, so quick and fragile. Her eyes filled with tears.

“I love you too,” she told him with quiet ferocity. “And I will never leave you, do you understand? We will get through this together.”

“Don’t leave me.” A plea, barely a breath, more of a brush of his lips against her shoulders.

Ellana squeezed her eyes shut and tried her very best not to cry.

[haverdoodles]

OC Page! Ellana, Te’lise, Thanuil, Aethara, Gloria, Hawke & Mannon :) 🌿

The Heroes of Ferelden, everybody!

Sten :) I love Sten

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Another sketch dump!! I’m having a lot of trouble completing personal pieces recently (all of my energy goes into my commission waitlist lol) but these sketches are fun to do in the meantime :) 🌿

[haverdoodles]

Subterfuge

— (Solas & Ellana)

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“The nobility,” Solas said, raising a hand to press it lightly against hers in the next step of the dance. “They fear you.”

Ellana’s eyes slid dispassionately over the sea of tittering masked faces, observing as they stiffened nearly imperceptibly under her attention. “They dance with jewel-encrusted shoes upon the bones of my people,” she murmured. “The nobility should fear me.”

Solas chuckled under his breath, velvety and low. His eyes were unusually bright with mischief, glittering like amethysts under the glow of the incandescent chandeliers. “And that is why you are the Inquisitor.”

[haverdoodles]

Some sketches :)

Varric & Hawke ☀️🍂

Sebastian Vael 💫

Ellana Lavellan ⚔️

[haverdoodles]

We Live To Fight Another Day

— (Cullen & Ellana)

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After every battle, Cullen was the first one she searched for.

It was selfish of her, she knew. Ellana was not some inconspicuous soldier in an army, or someone who could fade into a crowd. She was the Inquisitor, the revered Herald of Andraste, the leader that armies of thousands looked to for guidance. Her duty was to honour the fallen, and to be a beacon of strength in times of weakness. Ellana’s duty was to Thedas, and nothing else.

And yet as her eyes solemnly crossed over the hundreds of slumped figures lying motionless in the bloodstained grass, it was a head of blonde hair that she prayed she would not find among them.

Each step she took, each breath she drew, was a reminder of her failure. The battle was won, yes, and there was much to celebrate, but it was at the expense of her own people. The blood of her enemies stained her skin and tarnished her armour, yet it was her soldiers’ blood that painted the landscape red.

She had failed them.

‘Selfish,’ her mind whispered to her, as she searched face after face and was relieved each time it wasn’t him. ‘They are dead, because of you, and yet you still search for him. You do not deserve to feel life’s joy.’

“I know,” Ellana said aloud. The shackles that bound her in her mind rattled. “I know.”

“Inquisitor!”

Ellana turned, her cape snapping behind her with the sudden motion – and there he was. Bruised, flushed, and breathing, Cullen stared at her from mere paces away. On his face was an expression of pure, unadulterated relief as he watched her, his brown eyes swimming with indescribable emotion.

“Cullen,” she said. Or perhaps she whispered it, or shouted - Ellana wasn’t certain. All she knew was that one moment, they were gazing upon one another from an agonizing distance, and the next the sharp clang of metal echoed out as they crashed together in a desperate embrace.

Ellana clutched at him wildly, pressing his head into the crook of her neck. She stared over Cullen’s shoulder with wide, sightless eyes, suddenly unable to fathom being apart from him at all.

He was alive. He was alive, and here, in her arms. They had both survived.

“Maker’s breath,” Cullen choked out, crushing her against his chest-plate with the force of his embrace. “I thought I had lost you. Ellana…”

“Cullen,” Ellana whispered, turning her head to nuzzle her nose against his cheek. He smelled of blood, and sweat, and glorious life. “Vhen’an. Cullen, my Cullen.”

He pulled back enough to stare at her incredulously, almost as if he weren’t certain that she was real. Cullen’s eyes were wide and dark, naked in their display of vulnerability. His lips trembled as he said, “If you had… if you had fallen in battle, I would not have been able to fight, to live on. Not without you. The thought is… terrifying.”

Ellana’s lips pulled back in a rare, bloodied smile. “I promised that I would never leave you, didn’t I?”

“So you did,” he whispered, and squeezed his tired eyes shut. “Oh, my Ellana.”

It was as easy as breathing for them both to lean in, then; to press their lips against one another in a gesture of a hundred unspoken promises. Ellana did not deserve happiness, nor did she deserve this little bit of peace that she had found; nevertheless, she could not bear the thought of pulling away.

Selfish, she was so selfish. ‘I know. I know.’

There was no word, no phrase, in any language, alive or dead, that could convey the depth of her profound love for Cullen. As such, she could only clutch him closer, thanking every deity out there for allowing them to have this one precious moment.

Perhaps there would be a day, someday, when she or Cullen would be felled on the battlefield, and it would be their turn for their lifeblood to soak deep into the earth. It could be one of them, or both of them, fingers reaching weakly for an absent figure as the life drained from their eyes, and their souls quietly crossed over into the Beyond.

That day was not this one. And so the Inquisitor closed her eyes, dropped her weapons, and finally allowed herself to feel.

[haverdoodles]

Racing Time

— (Ellana)

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I wanted to do the age trend floating around on DAtwt, but since most of Ellana's physical evolution happens in such a short time period, I'm not sure I succeeded..? I suppose this is more of an age/expression/design challenge? 😆 Either way I had lots of fun!!

A combination of the ‘greying hair gene’ and constant, unrelenting stress means that Ellana starts to go silver pretty early on in her life. I’m certainly not complaining 😳