[ AN: Act 3, on the other side of the final boss fights, just after the end of the fight with Meredith. The scene that happens here is canon, if you side with the templars, however, the dialogue within and after it is not. ]

There weren't many things that Hawke hated more than being wrong. However, standing in the courtyard of the Gallows, blood-soaked down to her very soul it felt, she was starting to think that it was times like this that being right might actually be worse.

She'd said from the beginning that she didn't want to pick sides in this fight. She'd said that both sides were awful. She hated templars. She hated blood mages. And when it came down to it, what was her choice between? A templar and a blood mage. She didn't know if Orsino's claim that he'd never used blood magic before the end was true, and she didn't care. Even once was enough to abominate someone and he'd needed to be put down. Of course, it should have stopped there, but Meredith was too busy being the picture perfect example of a lyrium-crazed, paranoid templar to let things end the easy way.

In the end, there had been no right answer, just as she'd always known. The amount of cosmic 'I told you so' this situation was entitling her to did not feel nearly as satisfying as it should have. She really wanted to take a kind of vindictive pleasure, standing there as an apostate, watching the Knight-Commander of Kirkwall's templars scream as she was consumed by the lyrium she'd carried. Consumed by lyrium, how fitting. A more dramatic version of the deserved end all templars brought themselves to, in Hawke's opinion.

She didn't really feel vindictively pleased as what was left of Meredith crystallized in the courtyard. She mostly just felt tired. That tiredness was just going to have to wait, though. She had one more issue to deal with before this was going to be over, one more problem to see to. She'd felt it as a little spark of anger earlier and she kept the flames burning yet, ready to stoke them outward into spells even still.

Fenris, Isabela, and Anders fell into formation around her in the wake of the fight. They were four points of a diamond, the group of them moving with the synchronization of fighters used to doing battle together. They'd be ready if this turned to a fight again, and Hawke was increasingly certain it would.

She was of half a mind to provoke that fight herself.

"On your guard," Hawke said, just loud enough for the three of them to hear. "We're not done yet."

"The woman's a statue, Hawke," Isabela said. "Surely you can't think she's still alive after that?"

"Meredith's not who I'm worried about."

As if summoned by Hawke's apprehension, the sound of armored boots came from all sides as the templars who had fled from Meredith's attack came back to see the aftermath of the battle. However, their movements were not those of scattered, scared individuals hesitantly wanting to find out what had happened. Much as Hawke had expected, these templars were trained soldiers, and they moved together in formation, swords drawn as they surrounded her and her companions.

Hawke and her three companions fell back into battle stances, facing outward. Yes, she was really starting to hate being right, today.

Cullen was near the front of their formation, and she could see how the others already deferred to him, looking to him for orders almost unconsciously. In the wake of Meredith's death, he was their leader now, and they were looking to him for the next decision.

Hawke felt those angry little flames deep inside of her flare up at the sight of him.

She'd heard what he'd said, back when Meredith had first started to lose her grip on the situation. The Knight-Commander had called for Hawke's death in her paranoid ravings, and Cullen had said, as clear as daylight: "I thought we intended to arrest the Champion." Yes, he'd finally stood up to his insane commanding officer right after that, but the damage was done.

Intended to arrest. A plan to betray her, to let her fight at their side and win their battle for them, and then take her captive, and it had been laid in place right from the very start of this whole event, it seemed. Orsino had been right in that they'd turn on her eventually. Perhaps she'd been naive to think that a known apostate could stand with templars and walk away afterward. Perhaps deep down, she'd always known they weren't intending to let her go. Whatever this came to, she wasn't planning on going down without a fight first.

Her eyes stayed locked on Cullen as a templar recruit rushed forward, kneeling before what remained of Meredith. The recruit raised a hand, as if to ascertain that the Knight-Commander truly was dead, then turned to Cullen with a questioning look.

And Cullen looked to Hawke.

She met his indecisive eyes with a steely glare. How was it possible that she could feel as though she were cold as ice, and burning with rage at the same time? She'd just fought her way through the entirety of the Circle's mages. She'd beaten the abomination that Orsino had become. She'd taken on an overpowered Meredith strengthened by the corrupt lyrium that was driving her mad. She'd beaten the Arishok in single combat. She was the damn Champion of the horrific city of Kirkwall, and she was not afraid of anything Cullen had to bring against her.

He should be afraid of her.

Just try it, she thought at him, every inch of her posture bristling in a threat. Just try to arrest me now. I've got flames enough left for you and every single one of your little templars, Cullen. I'd damn well like to see you try to take me in. I'll set this entire courtyard ablaze if you take even make one step toward me. I'll burn the entire Gallows to the ground if that's what it takes. This hellhole's halfway there already, I ought to just cleanse the world of this cursed Circle and call it my favor to Thedas. We annulled the Circle's mages for being irredeemable? Maybe I'm about to discover that Kirkwall's templars are beyond saving too.

Make your move, Cullen. Let's all find out how this really ends.

Cullen held her gaze, and she saw the decision turning over behind his eyes. Maybe the guilt over his role in this crisis had finally come to a head, or maybe he was questioning the rest of Meredith's decisions finally. Maybe he felt he respected her accomplishments here. Maybe he'd simply looked into Hawke's eyes and feared the rage burning behind them. Whatever his reasons, the decision was made.

He lowered his sword and dropped to one knee, bowing his head before her.

All around her, the remaining templars followed his lead, kneeling and putting down weapons. She savored that little image for a moment, she herself standing tall as the apostate mage, able to glare the templar leader into submission and watching his soldiers bow down before her. As it should be.

"Now," she said quietly to her companions, "it's over." She finally lowered her staff, setting the blade against the ground and leaning on it more heavily than her posture would have indicated. Isabela sheathed her knives with a nervous sigh of relief, and Fenris lowered his sword, though his eyes still watched the templars as though worried that one of them might make a move towards Hawke. Anders simply looked empty as he replaced his staff at his back. He'd fought with her as she'd ordered, but his expression had gone hollow from the moment they stepped into the Gallows. She wasn't sure he was ever going to fully return to himself.

She let the templars stay as they were for a few moments, hoping Cullen's armor was pinching him somewhere, before finally turning in a slow circle to address the group as a whole. "Every templar in Kirkwall is hereby under the command of Guard-Captain Aveline. You are to go into the city and help her guardsmen restore order until such time as she gives you the order to stop. Dismissed!"

She didn't ask if she was understood, she didn't show any hesitance. She'd learned that if you wanted people to listen to you, you gave orders like you expected to be obeyed. Cullen was technically their commander now, but he'd taken a knee to her. That was justification enough for her to order them about.

Besides, giving a damn about Cullen's authority was about the farthest thing on her mind at the moment. She wasn't done with him yet. Not in the slightest.