A/n - This was spurned into life while thinking of what-if and getting really really mad at Solas and Abelas in the temple of Mythal. Needless to say, it's both bitter and sweet.

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The Grey Warden, As'lana Tabris, has survived more than the average elf in Thedas. She never bragged or made anyone feel less than they were. That was until she met her first Elvhen. Not a Dalish elf, no, an ancient elf that lived in the days of Arlathan. Immortal as long as they slept. The elves made a point of speaking to her only in elven with contempt and clear disgust. She had told them in their own language exactly what she thought of them. This led to a battle between her and the six men and women; they lost. She left that encounter with nothing but dislike for the ancient people, hers descended from.

That first meeting had shaded every other instance she met one of these immortal elves. She had nothing positive to say about the beings, and wondered if the good ones either died defending Arlathan or kept their identities a secret. As'lana doubted that second greatly. They always let her know exactly how much better they were from her. Even, Valor, her spirit teacher, told her, that the ancient Elvhen were not worth her time. Cowards that hid in the shadows, mourning their lost world, while letting what was left vanish along with the spirits of their abandoned children.

The Temple of Mythal was no different ancient elves that called the Dalish children, shadows of what was. Abelas looked down on the Inquisitor while having hid for centuries guarding a dead Goddess's temple. How many could these men and women have saved during the fall of Arlathan, or the Dales? As'lana didn't say a word, doing her best to respect the Inquisitor's misguided reverence of the elves that were hypocrites. She could not keep the contempt from her face however, eyes burning with a dislike mirrored at her.

She wasn't surprised when they agreed to let the Inquisitor assist them with the invaders, nor was she surprised when Morrigan gave chase. Somethings never changed. They battled through the temple, easily reaching the Red Templar that was responsible for so much suffering. He fell to the rune Dagna made, and they were at the well. Morrigan arguing her belief in protecting what was left of the magical world that had fallen. Personally, As'lana didn't care what world they were in; it would always be filled with and ran by greed and hatred. Some would also be below, while others rose above.

It would always be the way of it. She wondered for a moment why she continued to struggle and kept trying to better the world. It was a useless fight after all. The supposed mythical Arlathan was just as faulty as this world was. Slaves, hatred, elves fighting elves. She was sick of it.

"Elvhen like you?" The Inquisitor and everyone else were watching Morrigan at the Well of Sorrows. They were trying to decide who would get to drink the supposed knowledge. She didn't think there was anything good that could come from a thing called the Well of Sorrows. Surely Sorrow was not what anyone wanted. Those thoughts moved to the back of her mind as she watched and listened to Solas and Abelas speak.

"Elvhen like me." As'lana felt her blood turn cold. She had not disliked Solas. She found his unwavering need to seek and restore the old world before it was put asunder, as Valor told her, annoying. There was little else to him, as far as she knew. He stood silently apart from the rest of them, in his Rotunda, painting his Fresco. He'd answer questions, but not always, and not completely. She had thought it was a weird teaching style to help others figure out the answers themselves. She had respected that. Problem solving and thinking it through was much better than someone simply handing over the answer. As she watched the two elves exchange words in elven, and sort of standoff from everyone else. It all made sense. Abelas looked back at him briefly before vanishing down the stairs. Morrigan and the Inquisitor were still arguing.

*Italicized are in elven*

"You're Elvhen." As'lana let the words slip out of her mouth as fluently as a native speaker. Valor was an old Spirit, one of the oldest if he was to be believed. He spoke many languages, elven was one of the first. He had starting speaking to her in the language slowly until she could converse in it as easily as Common. She had not made it known to anyone in the Inquisition of her knowledge. There was something satisfying when listening to Solas and the Inquisitor speak when they thought no one could understand them. Solas didn't reply, merely looked at her curiously. The others had yet to notice the building tension between them. "I wondered what it was you were doing here. Everyone has reasons for doing what they do." The complexed words and phrases lost to time rolled off her tongue. She made sure to speak respectfully. Slight changing in words and structure the only separation between casual and formal speak. She was confident The Inquisitor would not be able to understand her, possibly Morrigan could if she cared to listen.

"I was not aware you spoke Elven." Solas ignored her question, his eyes looking at her thoughtfully.

"There is much about me you do not know and will never." She sneered. "I am but a shadow of what you were after all. A fragment, soulless." She turned back to the argument still heated and unending between the Inquisitor and Morrigan. She shook her head, moving to look at the liar before her. "The world Fen'harel put asunder made me broken, or so your People tell me." Solas tensed at that phrase, but she didn't really care.

"Where did you learn of that?" His eyes were a blend of curiosity and anger. The anger she didn't understand, but she did not care to.

"You are not the only one who can converse with Spirits." She tipped her head in mocked respect. "How much Pride to think so? I had thought your name ill fitted, but I admit it is perfect." Solas loosened in his stance, there was a hesitation to him now. Uncertainty of what she would do with her knowledge.

"What will you do?" His voice was thick, and she took in his form. He intended to fight her if her answer was not what he hoped.

"Why are you with the Inquisition?" She crossed her arms, eyes narrowed at him. She didn't know herself. There was little reason to inform anyone of what he was. He had nothing truly to gain from aiding them beyond saving the world, and possibly a place at the Inquisitor's side. Though he didn't seem particularly interested in the Dalish elf's advances.

"The Breach and tears will mean an end to us all." He shrugged "Even those such as me." She watched him for a moment, trying to decide if he was speaking the truth, or just some of it. There was something in the back of her mind that jumped out and blasted out of her mouth before she could think.

"The Orb." She took a step closer to him, eyes wide in joy at having crack a hard puzzle. "You're after the Orb." She laughed lightly, running her hand thought her wild mane of hair. "It's so obvious." She looked at him; Solas did not looked amused. She felt elated at having gotten something he had not intended. "That's exquisite."

"What will you do now?" He repeated his question from before, confirming nothing. He looked over her shoulder at the others, giving her a moment to think.

"Nothing." She smiled at his surprised face. "I will do nothing. But you better hope you get the orb before I do." She smirked. "Because if you don't. I will do everything in my power to keep it from you." He glared, face twisting with dark emotions as she continued. "What are you so annoyed by? I'm a shell, a fragment. Surely, I will not get it first? And if I do, the great Elvhen should easily be able to take it from me." They glared at each other, the dislike and annoyance made known. She stuck out her tongue in a childish fashion, pleased to have gotten over at least a bit on the ancient being. As she watched The Inquisitor step into the Well and take a sip, she came to a conclusion that would likely result in her death, but would be fun either way.

The Well exploded and everything seemed to happen at once. The Eluvian activated, Corypheus charged at them, and everyone but the Hero of Ferelden disappeared through it before the mirror was shattered. The group made their way back to Skyhold minus As'lana. Solas assumed she had died doing the same stupid stuff she was known for, until word reach them through Leliana's raven.

The Warden had come charging through the battle field, holding a strange green glowing object. She had been laughing hysterically, while screaming something in elven. Corypheus was right behind her, with his corrupted dragon flying overhead. She commandeered a mount and was last seen fleeing into the Wilds with the supposed Tevinter magister giving chase.

Solas had barely contained his disbelief. She had actually gotten the foci away from Corypheus. He waited a few more days for news that she had been found dead, or that Corypheus had been seen with the Foci back in hand. Instead, he received a piece of Parchment from Leliana. It had been rolled with a report from As'lana letting the spymaster know she had escaped the Cory-whatever and was going into hiding for the time being. She requested Leliana give Solas the elven phrase on the parchment along with the report. His piece of parchment consisted of one phrase.

Vis m'elana vena em

"What does it say?" Leliana asked, eyes on the parchment. Solas distracted, grumbled the answer before thinking.

"Catch me if you can."

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A special thank you to Judy, who reviews all of my Dragon Age stories. THANK YOU! I appreciate every single excellent!

A/n - Well that was a fun piece to write with no value, but man was it fun imagining the Warden laughing. If you are curious, she is screaming "catch me if you can" while running from Corypheus.