Title: Take Me

Chapter 2: Running

Catching his Vhenan was easier said than done. Right when he thought he had her in his grasp she found a way out. Whether it was a light manipulation of conversation or a stolen kiss that would catch him off guard – she got away. He had been back a week and still couldn't catch her. He had to admit to himself that he did love this game, the wolf chasing the halla – and he never grow tired of it.

He sat in the garden around midnight, rotating a small amount of electricity in his hand as he thought of his next plan – which he had a slight feeling she was already planning a counter to. He closed his hand as the electricity faded from his hand.

How was she figuring everything out?

He pondered on this question for hours. As he was about the leave the garden Soora opened the door from the main hall.

"I'm calling a truce for now...I actually do have one question." She let the door close behind her as she walked over to him.

He leaned back on the well and nodded. Soora sat on the well and pulled her knee's up to her chest. They sat in silence for a while before she sighed, "Why hide?"

Solas looked down, "After awaking...your- our people lost everything. They made up tales, depicting me as a-"

"I meant from me," She looked over at him, "And don't say it's because I was raised among the Dalish. You know who I really am."

"I was going to tell you," He admitted, "The night I took away your Vallaslin. I had everything planned, what I would say, an answer to almost every question I could think of–"

"If you had told me that night...what would you have said then if I asked this question?"

"That I was being selfish. I thought if you knew the truth..." He sighed and looked over at her. Her white hair cascading around her face, the pale moonlight making her pale skin look almost a dark grey, her beautiful yellow eyes looking at him for an answer. Her hair, once short and butchered, fell below her shoulders. Her eyes, once full of anger and fight, had changed to peace and understanding. After the battle with Corypheus he remembered a gash that would have turned into a scar around her face, he could see the start of it before it hid in her hair.

"I didn't want you to hate me." Solas looked away, ashamed.

"Hate Solas or Fen'Harel?"

"...They are the same."

"I need to admit something," Soora bit her lip, "I...I knew you were Fen'Harel...I put the pieces together a few months after you left. The last painting that you were starting on really made me wonder...I knew you were hiding something...so I did what you taught me – researched, studied, meditated into the Fade. I came across a spirit...The Spirit had been looking for someone and the anchor got it's attention. It explained how I held magic of the old Elven God he was looking for. I asked more and it showed me a memory..."

Solas turned his body toward her, "A memory?"

"When Fen'Harel created the Foci...in Arlathan," Soora lifted up her hand, the mark starting to awaken, "Everything involving the foci, your foci...I knew...That's why I understood why you left, I understood why you hid and I'm not mad. I don't hate Solas...or Fen'Harel. I don't hate you."

"Then you know about the reason Corypheus had the orb," Solas shook his head as he pulled himself onto the well next to her.

"And I understand why you gave it to him," Soora laughed to herself, "Though, thank you for at least waiting until we defeated him to go hug yourself in the farthest corner of the Earth and giggle madly."

Solas chuckled and put his face in his hand, "Thank you, Vhenan."

Soora smiled a little and got off the well, "Look, I do understand, a lot more then I did when we last saw each other – or at least the last time you saw me." Solas raised an eyebrow at that last comment before she cupped his cheek placed a kiss on the other. Moving over to his ear, she whispered, "You're very cute, Wolf."

She left with a smug grin on her face as he watched her leave, awestruck.