The evening drew to a close and Cullen ran his hands through his already disheveled hair. Not even a small break was afforded today as he worked through the high priority issues that pulled his attention from everything-including Evelyn. This war won't last forever. The words provided comfort despite his current stress. There would be an end to Corypheus; the workload would become more manageable. In essence, these long nights paved the way for his future. There were plans, big ones. The kind that meant he had already secured a ring and would find a place to call home. He simply needed to figure out how to ask her. As long as they were together, it hardly mattered where.

Cullen ignored thoughts of the Orlesian army marching towards the Arbor wilds, concerns about the soldier's preparedness, and the plausibility regarding stopping a Darkspawn Magister from the dawn of time. Their shared bed called to him, everything else could wait.

Shucking his armor, Cullen took great care not to disturb her, even leaving the candles unlit. It was obvious when Evelyn came through his office earlier that her day had been no better than his. Perhaps she could have maintained the façade to anyone else, but he knew every curve of her face, every subtle movement, and had taken the time to memorize her delicate features. He could read the things she didn't or couldn't say in what Josephine would call polite company.

Cullen glanced at his crowded office during debriefing. He hated confinement since Kinloch and debated relocation, but attendees were present and he avoided the hassle. An unfamiliar, overzealous new templar, whom Cullen didn't recognize, asked incessant questions. Though anyone willing to fight against Corypheus was appreciated, and he didn't have the luxury of being picky. Frankly, at this point, if they could pick up the blade by the correct end, and could heed an order, they could aid.

"Understand the Inquisition needs to impede the advance of Samson and Corypheus. You possess sanction to use any means necessary to ensure it. I expect a detailed account post-mission immediately. Am I clear?" He shot the new templar a pointed look of unspoken confirmation.

"Yes, Ser!" the men announced.

"Dismissed!" Cullen waved them out, catching a glance of Evelyn in silent observation. The crease in her brow coupled with the way she hunched alluded to a challenging day and though he longed to comfort her, these missives wouldn't wait. Instead, he offered a smile, a quick kiss, then scoured the paperwork in need of attention. "I'll find you later, love." She nodded, and the door latched behind her.

Stripped to his smallclothes, he laid on the bed, noting the absence of the sweet lavender and honey he'd become accustomed to, lulling him to sleep.

The bed was empty.

She must have had another nightmare.

Cullen rolled over to glance at the floor. If she fell off the bed, it was a more violent occurrence. Not that it would have disturbed her, she is a sound sleeper, so Cullen wasn't alarmed. It certainly had not been the first time these things happened. They'd both experienced their share of trauma and like so many other battles, nightmares were fought side by side.

When the carpet was bare, Cullen checked the balcony. He pulled at the door handles, locked from the inside. A tinge of guilt caught him as he stifled a chuckle.

Did she lock herself out?

He found that the balconies too were empty and rubbed the stubble on his face, contemplating where she would be at 0200 hours.

Moonlight seeped through the window illuminating an envelope on the desk stamped with the Inquisitor's wax seal, and no addressee. He tore it open hastily, withdrawing the parchment.

Inquisition,

Please accept this letter as my formal resignation. I

will send for my personal items once I am settled. I am certain that the

Spymaster will help to locate me, so i'll inform you of my destination. It is challenging to ensure

reasoning is accurately captured in a mere

letter, however it is by my own volition, that I

return to ostwick. With the Templars

gone and no longer needing the Inquisition to protect me from

those confident of my guilt, the time has come to say goodbye. As thanks for my efforts,

please refrain from branding me one of many traitors.

Lastly, a matter of a personal nature, tell the Commander that we're through. I've read between the lines and seen the truth.

Forgive me,

Evelyn Trevelyan.

Cullen clutched the parchment to his chest and recalled a memory from a few nights ago.

The wind stung his cheeks as he embraced her but he paid it no mind. Cullen ran his fingers through her raven hair, the soft texture in great contrast to his calloused skin. The location of their first kiss was her favorite spot on the battlements and taking a peaceful stroll through Skyhold without the incessant parade of soldiers, scouts, or in particular-Jim, interrupting was a rarity.

It didn't get more perfect than this.

"Cullen?" her voice caught his attention and pulled him from his thoughts.

"Mmm?"

Evelyn's blue eyes met his as she ruffled the fur of his mantle. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I love you, too."

Cullen pressed against her lips, feeling her warmth as she threw her arms around his neck.

He re-read the resignation letter, brows wrinkling.

Everything was fine.

He shook his head. The most intriguing area of concern was how she addressed him. They relished any moment where they got to be Evie and Cullen instead of the Commander and the Inquisitor. When their relationship started, they separated their professional and personal lives and though it was difficult, they maintained the precedent. They talked about work, certainly, but titles were used instead of names unless they were off duty or in private, barring a few exceptions.

Why compose a sentence that is personal only to use my title? As a resignation letter, it is by definition, professional. Was Evie breaking ties in both aspects purposefully? Was she hinting that something is wrong since the two do not mix?

The bureau contained the breeches and cotton shirt he threw on before stuffing his sockless feet into his boots and rushing out. He avoided every other step and plunged through the door to the main hall. He crossed the nearly empty room-save for a few of his soldiers to whom he nodded curtly. Cullen disregarded the looks of confusion plastered on their features from what he assumed was due to his lack of armor. He took a moment to thank the Maker that the nobles had the good sense to be sleeping at this hour instead of indulging in gossip. Things would only get worse if enemies of the Inquisition found out that the Inquisitor was…

What was the Inquisitor exactly?

Through the rotunda and up two flights of stairs to the rookery was where he found Leliana. The Spymaster, unlike himself, was dressed in her normal armor and seemed wide awake despite the late hour. She petted a raven's feathers and secured a message around its foot with ribbon, then sent the bird through the arrow slit.

Cullen shoved the parchment in Leliana's direction. "The Inquisitor—"

Was missing? Gone? Quit? Left you and the Inquisition behind?

He pushed those thoughts away, he could not think about that, not now, not until there was something, anything to know for sure.

Leliana grabbed the parchment from him and scoured the page, quirking her eyebrow. "It is written in her hand…"

That was the first thing I checked Leliana, give me some credit. "I'm aware." Cullen pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger, trying to dull the anxiety induced headache before it worsened.

Leliana held the letter over the flame of a candle "Where did you find this?"

"Our quarters, on her desk. Somehow, I'm certain it's a fake." Cullen did not understand what the Spymaster searched for, but her actions were risky. Sheer willpower kept him from snatching the letter back out of her hands before it accidentally burned and any clues they had would be lost. "Evie would never do this!"

"Leave the Inquisition, or leave you?" Leliana's face remained stoic and seemingly calm despite the urgency.

"Both? Either?" His voice boomed throughout the open space with ferocity echoed in every syllable as his heart pounded harder and fear set in. Cullen paced and Leliana eyed him, seemingly full of speculation. "It wasn't her."

"I'll summon everyone, we'll convene in the war room in 30 minutes. Perhaps the others can shed light." Leliana glanced at the parchment again before rolling it up. "I suggest you prepare for a long night, Commander."