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In front of the Viscount's Keep, still empty of a Viscount and with no prospects for one anywhere at hand, First Enchanter Orsino was pacing back and forth, declaiming to a growing crowd of nobles. "I know you fear us! Knight-Commander Meredith uses that fear to take control of your city."

"He's going to get himself killed saying things like that," Varric muttered.

"Or turned Tranquil." Hawke turned to see Anders standing behind her. The mage looked exhausted, his face drawn, the feathers on his coat tattered and filthy.

Orsino was still talking, his voice growing shrill as he tried ever more desperately to get his point across. "Meredith opposes every effort to replace Viscount Dumar, and you have seen the chaos of her reign. Will you allow it?"

There was no response from the bystanders. It seemed no one particularly cared if there was a Viscount as long as their lives weren't affected.

The cold voice Hawke had been waiting for cut through Orsino's exhortations just as Meredith herself cut through the crowd. "Return to your homes," she commanded. "This farce is over."

Hawke had to give Orsino credit—he didn't quail in the face of Meredith and her phalanx of Templars. "Perhaps there are some who might disagree with you, Knight-Commander." To Hawke's dismay, Orsino was coming down the stairs directly toward her. So much for not wanting to be put in the middle of their issues.

An open circle had formed now, with Meredith and Orsino and Hawke in the middle of it.

Meredith barely glanced at Hawke before answering for her. "Do not hide behind the Champion. She has no role in this."

"I can speak for myself," Hawke said sharply.

"But not for Kirkwall."

"I think the Champion's views would be appreciated," Orsino insisted. "Or do you fear what she has to say?"

"I fear nothing. My only interest is in keeping order and protecting the innocent."

"Champion, her refusal to listen to reason leaves me no choice! The people of this city need to know what is really happening."

Hawke looked at Meredith, refusing to be cowed by her authority—or her attitude. "You have to admit your measures have become more extreme since the Qunari attack."

"And you could do better? How well did you guard your own mother? Did she not die at a blood mage's hands?" There was a maddening little smirk hovering around Meredith's mout that made Hawke want to punch her even more than her words did.

"Leave my mother out of this!"

Meredith's smirk widened. "Cold corpses speak louder than abstract freedoms, do they not?"

Only Varric's hand on her arm, his whisper of "remember Sunshine", kept Hawke from throttling the Knight-Commander.

"When will you stop seeing evil in every corner?" Orsino demanded.

"When it is no longer there."

Orsino snapped, "You cannot paint all of us with the same brush! Not all mages are waiting for the opportunity to wreak havoc."

"Temptations prey on every mage, no matter how noble their intentions."

Behind her, Hawke heard Anders take a breath to begin speaking, and then Varric's low, "Hold on, Blondie."

"You push us into desperate acts, and then use that as justification to press us further!" Orsino was protesting.

Hawke raised a hand, and he subsided, taking a step back. "This argument isn't helping anyone."

"No, it isn't," Meredith agreed. "Stand aside. We will not stand idle while the city burns around us."

Since that was exactly what Meredith had done while the city was actually burning during the Qunari attack, Hawke was unimpressed with her posturing. "The Templar Order exists to guard the Chantry and the Circle. The rest of the city is more than adequately protected by its guardsmen." She nodded at Aveline.

"They are competent enough," Meredith allowed. "But I do not need you, or anyone, to tell me my duty. I will protect this city."

"You will find that not everyone bows to your will, Knight-Commander," Orsino said grimly.

"Was that a threat, First Enchanter? Because I am quite within my rights to replace you if I think you are a danger."

Hawke put herself between them again, snapping, "Threatening each other isn't going to help matters."

Before either of them could respond, a space opened up in the circle of nobles around them, and Grand Cleric Elthina came toward them, walking slowly and deliberately. Her very presence laid a blanket of calm over the scene. Hawke sometimes thought she wouldn't be surprised if Elthina was a mage, she had such power.

"My, my," Elthina said gently. "Such a terrible commotion."

"This mage incites rebellion, Your Grace. I am dealing with the matter," Meredith said, her tone coming as near to being respectful as she seemed capable of.

"Ah, Orsino. So frustrated. Do you think this is truly wise?"

Under the steady gaze of Elthina's remarkable ice-blue eyes, Orsino wilted visibly. "I … no, Your Grace."

"Of course not." Elthina gestured to the Templars behind the Knight-Commander. "Will you show the First Enchanter back to the Circle? Gently, if you please." The Templars surrounded him, and he walked with them, his shoulders slumped. Elthina turned to Meredith. "This demeans us all; surely you can see that. Go back to the Gallows and calm down. There's a good girl."

Varric snorted softly at that. Hawke wished she found it amusing. There was something dangerous about a powder keg which could only be tempered by one woman's voice.

Meredith followed the Templars without another word, and Elthina came to Hawke, speaking softly. "My thanks, Champion. If you had not stepped in when you did …"

"I can't be between them all the time, and neither can you."

"Sadly true." Elthina turned to the gathered crowd. "Gentle people of Kirkwall, return to your lives, I implore you. This will not be solved today."

Hawke wondered when Elthina thought it would be solved. She suspected the Grand Cleric didn't know—her words and actions were nothing more than a delaying action.

The nobles dispersed. Elthina gave a great sigh. "I will go to the Gallows. They will see reason, if the Maker wills it. Thank you again, Champion."

She walked off, following the Templars.

"Someone has to deal with that woman," Anders said grimly. "This will not stand much longer." He hurried away, back to his clinic, Hawke imagined.

"Well, Hawke?"

"Well, Aveline? There's nothing I can do. Short of becoming Viscount myself, but even that wouldn't help. Meredith would never listen to me. All that would accomplish would be to paint a target on my back."

Aveline sighed. "You're probably right. In the meantime, there's a city to run."

She, too, headed off, leaving Varric and Hawke alone in the square.