It was quiet and dark when Eve finally made her way back to camp. Cullen sat alone at the fire, toying at the embers with a stick, eyes glowing with reflected firelight. He did not look at her when she arrived.

"It's closed," she said, taking a seat across from him.

He exhaled his breath slowly. "So it was my...presence, after all, that prevented you from…" He trailed off. "I had been hoping it was something else."

"Me too," she breathed. "Cullen…"

"Solas told me everything."

"He did?" Eve wondered what, exactly, everything consisted of.

"Don't be angry with him," said Cullen evenly. "I threatened to tear his arms off if he didn't."

"No, it's okay. Maybe it's easier this way. So you know about…"

"The desire demon? The regular problems the anchor has been causing you? My role in it? Yes. I know it all now."

So Solas hadn't told him about the incident in the Fade. That was probably for the best.

He threw the stick into the flames and finally looked at her, pain etched harsh lines on his face. "At first, I couldn't understand why you couldn't come to me with this."

"I was going to tell you. When we got back. But it's not an excuse. I should have told you sooner. Solas even told me to. But I..."

"You were afraid. Of what it meant for us. And for the Inquisition." She nodded hesitantly. "I understand that," he said.

"It was wrong of me. Cullen, I'm so sorry," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

He gave her a crooked smile, but his eyes remained dark. "Is it strange that I'm not? Not sorry this happened, I mean. In fact, I almost feel as if I should thank the Maker that this happened. This event has clarified some things for me. I was...struggling. With a choice. And now my path feels perfectly clear. Fate stepped in, as it often seems to."

She sat back with confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Eve, I'm leaving the Inquisition."

The words didn't make sense to her. So she played them back in her head, and then they hit her with the impact of a rock slide. She leapt to her feet. "Cullen, you can't!" she cried. "I won't allow it. This was my fault. I'm to blame for this. The Inquisition cannot lose you. I'll step down as Inquisitor."

He chuckled softly. "If only it were so simple. But you can't, Eve. You were chosen. I was only recruited." She looked at him and saw weariness, resignation. His eyes were hollow. How long had he been like this? Had it always been there? "Sit down, Eve. There's more for you to know." Something in his broken demeanor compelled her to comply.

He exhaled deeply and then began to talk. "As you know, my templar abilities come from the use of lyrium. But after Kirkwall, when...well, you know what happened." Eve nodded somberly. "I just couldn't...I wouldn't continue to be tethered to the drug."

"You stopped taking lyrium altogether?"

Cullen nodded.

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"It's rumored to be, yes. But I've long suspected that the dangers are highly exaggerated, in all likelihood by the Chantry themselves as a means of discouraging templars from discontinuing the drug. And I will not be under their control any longer." As he said this, Cullen crashed his fist into his palm and scowled angrily at the fire.

"How long have you been in withdrawl?" she asked.

"Five weeks."

"And are the symptoms bad?"

Cullen sighed. "It's been a roller-coaster to be honest. The first week was awful, obviously. I was sick and delirious. Since then, migraines. Loss of concentration. Strong emotions come and go. Irritability. Nausea."

"I'm so sorry that you were going through this Cullen. But this is quite a risk to take. You're playing with your own life. And you didn't even tell anyone?"

"You're one to talk," he quipped in return.

Eve was immediately chagrined. "You're right, of course. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. Just that, you could have told me."

He looked up at her. "I probably should have, and I'm sorry for that. I wasn't alone though. I told Cassandra that she could kill me if I got out of control."

Eve gulped. I'm glad it didn't come to that, she thought. "Cullen, I don't understand. You seem to have this all very well in check. Why leave now?"

He ran his hands through his hair, head hung low. "I'm not in check, Eve. Far from it. I feel as if I'm fighting a losing battle right now. I'm getting shakier. I have nightmares. And they're growing worse. I don't sleep. I'm barely able to do my job as it is. I've been...contemplating leaving for some time. And now that..." His voice trailed off.

"...my anchor is acting up…" Eve finished for him.

He nodded. "It just seems like an answer. That it's not right for me to be here right now. No matter how much I want to be."

Eve wanted to protest. Every ounce of her wanted to scream out. But the man in front of her was a broken one. And if she tried to reach for him, even just to comfort him, there was no telling what the consequences could be. She had endangered enough people for one day. She couldn't endure any more pain at her expense. Cullen was right. Duty had to come first this time. With ragged control, she put her need to comfort him aside and tried to put on a brave face.

"Where will you go?" she asked.

"My sister's. I've neglected her for too long. She'll be happy to see me, I think."

Eve paused. She stared at the popping embers of the fire and tried to fight her growing panic. "Cullen, I don't think I can do this without you."

"You've been doing it without me this whole time. Maybe once it's over, and you've sent Corypheus back into whatever dark hole he climbed out of, it will be safe to come and find me."

Her heart quavered. "You still think we may have a future? Together? After all of this?"

"Would you want one?"

"It's all I want," she responded huskily. In the dark, the anchor flickered in and out, startling them both.

"I suppose that's a good reminder of why this must be done," Cullen said.

"Cullen, this is ridiculous," protested Cassandra again as Cullen finished packing his things. The Seeker was more put out than usual, which was saying something. "This is far too extreme of a reaction to the situation. The Inquisition needs you."

"Cassandra, I have no doubt that you will be an excellent Commander. I leave the Inquisition troops in your extremely capable hands."

The Seeker rolled her eyes. "I have neither the desire nor the skillset to lead this army, Cullen. Something you and I have discussed frequently."

"Well, circumstances have changed."

"Cullen, listen to me," the Seeker insisted, shoving herself between Cullen and his task. "We will figure something out. You've done well off lyrium. We can keep you two separated. There are no problems here that we can't solve. You leaving is the last thing that we need."

"No Cassandra. The last thing you guys need is a broken Inquisitor that can't perform her sworn duties."

"I fear that's exactly what we'll be left with, once you've gone." The comment forced Cullen to pause. "We're not blind, Cullen. We know how she feels about you. How do you think she'll cope to your departure?"

He did not meet Cassandra's eyes, and slung a large bag over his shoulder. "She's strong. She'll survive."

"Cullen…"

"Cassandra, please," he said, soft and pleading. "Defeating Corypheus is impossible enough without this complication. Let me do what I think is right for myself, for the Inquisition, and for her."

Cassandra took in Cullen's face. His mouth was drawn tight with pain but his eyes were determined. She shook her head and snorted in disgust. "I don't like it, but obviously it's your choice."

He stopped in front of her. "Seeker, I will not forget what you've done for me. The Inquisition, and the opportunities you offered me, have changed my life for the better. You will succeed."

Cassandra was not one for embraces, but she softened her tone. "I will not forget what you've done for the Inquisition, Cullen. Please, if you change your mind, write me."

He nodded.

"Will you say goodbye to her?" Cassandra asked.

"I think it's easier if I just go," he said.

"Easier for who?" she replied bitingly.

"Goodbye, Seeker," said Cullen and slipped out the door. It was late. A light dusting of snow had fallen and the castle was quiet as he walked down the stairs towards the gate. Only the occasional person bearing a torch on a late night errand crossed the courtyard.

Determined to not deprive the Inquisition of a single resource, he had not even tacked a horse. His armor was packed in a chest in his old office, in case someone else had need for it. Clad in travelling clothes and wielding only his sword, Cullen set out across the bridge on foot.

Visions of Eve clouded his mind. Each step away from the castle became more difficult, but he strengthened his resolve and pushed himself forward. You're not leaving in defeat, he reminded himself. You are still your own man, and there is still hope for the future.

He was steps from the other side of the bridge and the road to Ferelden, when he heard a voice call from behind him.

"Defend yourself, templar," it shouted.

Cullen barely had a chance to turn around when he felt a blast of ice magic hit him on the back of his left shoulder. He drew his sword and squinted through the falling powder at the figure on the other side of the bridge.

The familiar figure made a motion with his staff and unleashed another barrage of magical energy at him. Cullen ducked and rolled.

"What the shit, Solas?" he shouted back.

Varric took an enormous swig of his beer. They were sitting by a fire in the tavern and Eve looked at him expectantly. Gulping down the remaining liquid, he let his tankard fall onto the table with a thunk and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

"Everything that happens to you is weird," he said.

Eve couldn't help but smile. "You said that to me once before," she said.

"Did I?" he said, raising his eyebrows. "I don't recall that."

"Well, it was you from the future, technically," she clarified.

"Me from the future? Well, I take it back then. Clearly, your life is completely and utterly normal."

Eve tipped her head to the side and clucked her tongue. "Varric, this isn't helping me."

"I wish I could help Eve, but I feel a little out of my depth here. I mean, your love life has more mystery and magical angst than Dorian's moustache."

"Varric, Cullen is leaving. We have to do something."

"Who else knows about all of this?"

Eve shook her head. "Just you."

Varric was still for a moment. "Inquisitor, I know I have a trustworthy face and all, but why are you telling me all of this stuff? Desire demons? Dream-sex? I mean, if this got around..."

Eve sipped at her drink thoughtfully. "I suppose ever since I learned what you did to protect Hawke from Cassandra, I thought that maybe you'd be willing to protect the secrets of your other friends as well."

Varric smiled broadly. "So you consider me a friend, then? I'm honored."

"Of course you're my friend Varric," she said smiling. "Just do me one favor."

"What's that?"

"Don't put any of this into one of your books. Not, at least, until it becomes a non-issue."

Varric laughed. "Don't worry. With all of this weirdness, I'm not even sure that the Seeker would buy this as plot."

Suddenly, the tavern door was thrown open violently and Iron Bull came rushing into the bar, out of breath.

"FIGHT!" he exclaimed with obvious glee. "Fight on the bridge!"

Enthusiastic patrons started to empty out of the bar, excited for some entertainment. Bull looked over to where Eve was sitting. "Coming, Inquisitor?" he asked.

Eve looked up wearily. "Not now, Bull. I'm not in the mood."

"You're in the mood for this one, trust me. Solas and Cullen are throwing down."

Eve's mouth dropped agape and she met eyes with Varric. "Shit," he said, echoing her thoughts. Not good, thought Eve. So much not good.

Both of them scrambled out of their chairs and sprinted out of the bar.

"Now that's the spirit!" said Bull, jogging behind them.