AN: Hi all, thanks so much for the crazy support on the last chapter! Without further ado here is world #2: in which the knowledge from the Well of Sorrows is the perfect solution to more than just the final fight.

Enjoy!

~Voi

"Please Vhenan."

There were no tears in her eyes, but she could barely see him through the fog of pain that clouded her vision. So thin and responsive here in this grove, it was as if the veil had somehow manifested the pangs and twinges of a wounded heart into a physical presence.

"Solas." She swallowed hard, "Please don't go, I-"

Taking a great shuddering inhale, she tried to remain steady, to rise above the hurt he had caused with his sudden and inexplicable rejection. But the longer she struggled the more it became apparent that her ability to stave off tears was quickly dwindling.

"I love you."

She had never said the words to him before, had never meant to say them, use them, the way she was at that moment. But to remain silent now would be to live in regret for the rest of her life. Because even now she suspected he had no intention of staying with the Inquisition longer than was absolutely necessary.

Not with all of his secrets.

She knew he had them, and she was not alone in her estimations.

A melodic mix of men and women's voices echoed in her mind. She had heard their song since her decision at the Well of Sorrows. And while their insight and presence had been a hard won prize, the decision had come with a high cost as well.

Her choice had been a point of contention within the inquisition, with Solas in particular.

Even now she could recall his stricken expression, could sense the tension in his hands while he had checked her for injury, or something worse.

In the weeks since acquiring her abilities she had found them, the voices, immeasurably useful, powerful. Not just for her missions, but for those she journeyed with as well.

The voices had provided tantalizing clues and histories the likes of which even she could not fully comprehend. But could she truly believe them? They had never been wrong yet, but...

Dread Wolf.

She shied away from the thought, turned away to focus on where Solas lingered, expression a mirror for her own anguish.

"You have a rare and marvelous spirit." His hand brushed her cheek for a fleeting moment, searing her with his touch, "In another world..."

The ache in her throat threatened to render her mute, to suffocate her entirely. She had suspected...had worried that such a day would come, but never could she have anticipated the pain.

"Why not this one? This world?" She asked.

And yet, even now, despite the hurt, his words were like the strikes of a hammer to molten weapon, each blow shaping a stronger sword, a keener blade.

"Do not walk away from me, Solas, please."

She took one step and then another, hand gently touching his arm as she drew near. He shuddered, swallowed an oath of pain as he wretched himself away.

"I can't. I'm sorry."

And then he started walking away, out of the grove, away from her.

Would she never again see that tender look in his eyes? Feel the touch of his hand, his lips, the firm strength of his arms as he held her close?

Struggling with the image of that future, she groped around in the dark of her mind willing herself to find the courage to call after him. To find someway to convince him otherwise.

The voices of the elders, of the Well, rose to her request with the same name they had given her before. And their solution, their answer, was everything that terrified her.

"Fen'harel?"

The word fell from her lips as soft as a whisper, but it crackled through the space like lightning, striking its mark with such accuracy that the force of it nearly made them both jerk upright.

Stopped dead in his tracks, Solas went rigid in the face of her question, her accusation.

Wheeling around on his heel, his eyes scorched as he searched her face, sought his answer with a fervor that had nothing to do with anger and everything to do with worry.

"What did you say?"

Gone was the rich cadence of his voice as he spoke of the fade, replaced by a tightness she did not recognize.

He had not moved from where he was standing, on the edge of the grove and still very capable of fleeing if need be. But when she struggled to speak again, found the words lodged in her throat, he repeated himself.

"Vhenan, what did you say?"

Striding forward, he had her at arms reach a moment later, expression fierce as he waited for her to respond. But there was no missing the tension in his lean frame, and she did not miss the way his hands were fisted at his side.

"You are him." Her lips curled into a small wobbly smile then. How strange her life, to have seen and met so many rare people.

Dread Wolf.

She repeated herself and was surprised by how comfortable the knowledge became the second time she spoke his name. Acceptance, like a soft cloak, settled around her as the truth perfumed the air.

"I am not."

He had always so sure of himself, of his own mind, that she had never questioned who he was. Now she knew why.

Knowledge was power, and she had the knowledge of centuries behind her.

"Liar." She responded to him without temper, but called out his dishonesty for what it was, "You would not have come back here, to stand in front of me, if I was not right."

"I would, if I thought you were making a terrible mistake."

"Like falling in love with the one man most capable of breaking my heart?" Her lopsided smile faded a little as he winced. "Or are the voices of Mythal's most dedicated followers incorrect?"

"They're wrong." Terse, desperate maybe, he shook his head, "Please do not pursue this any further."

"You are a terrible liar." Her smile failed her completely as she looked up and saw his too-serious face, "It's no wonder you've been so careful with your promises."

"I've never lied to you, Vhenan."

His brow knitted in an expression she knew all too well. She hated causing him pain, but she would not budge on this, not when she knew the truth of it now.

"Solas." She reached down and gently slid her small hand over one clenched fist, "Let me come with you. If just so you know I'm not telling people."

She was an equally poor liar and neither one of them believed her threat for more than a moment. But her intent was clear.

"Vhenan...you must not."

He was a man torn. But as his sides his hands relaxed, allowed her to lace her fingers for a moment.

"You do not know what you are asking."

He lifted their joined hands and brushed a kiss along her fingers, released his hold so he could kiss her palm. There was a wealth of turmoil behind his eyes, and she knew he would have spared her the truth, his truth, if it would have kept her safe.

"This is why you told me not to take the knowledge of the Well. Isn't it?" She reached up with her free hand to touch the corner of his mouth where it had pulled tight in strain, to smooth the furrow of his brow.

The realization that he would have preferred to suffer alone made her all the more resolved to help him, to travel beside him.

"I'm not going anywhere. Not now, when I know you best of all." She raised steely eyes challenged him, "If I truly am your heart, then let me come with you."

He looked like a man about to plunge off a cliff, desperate to change her mind but unable to find the strength to rip himself away, not again.

Unsmiling, serious as she pulled him into an embrace of her own, the warmth of their mutual touch was a balm to their wounded hearts. She wanted him to know he could count on her, could rely on her.

"I...if you wish it." He whispered her name like a lovers token, sweet and soft, held close to his heart, "It seems I can deny you nothing."

"You won't regret it." She promised, pressed herself into the strong curve of his shoulder as she tried to stave off the tears that threatened once more. But these tears were different, filled with joy.

Her heart had never been so full, so happy. She would gladly share his burden, his journey, if it meant they might one day find peace together.

He chuckled at the sound of her muffled sniffling and cuddled her closer, hands brushing the tears from her lashes, lips pressing a tender kiss to her mouth.

Warm, sweet, the first of their forever.

"Oh, Vhenan." he whispered, "I could never regret you, not ever."