A/N: This is the first part of the final showdown, when Hawke must chose a side and deal with Anders. Fair warning: character death lies ahead. This was tougher to write than I originally thought it would be, but I had already mentioned how Finola handled the destruction of the Chantry by Anders' hand in the main story, Release from the Chains, so there was no turning back.

Thanks to my buddies, Biff McLaughlin and Zute, and thanks to all who leave a comment and/or alert. It's always a pleasure to hear your thoughts.

Blessed Are the Peacekeepers

Ash and debris rained down from the sky, the Chantry obliterated, along with every soul inside. Moans of sheer agony, shouts and whimpers alike, smothered Finola like a demon's cloak as the bystanders scattered and sought refuge.

In a moment of torturous panic, her head snapped around to confirm Sebastian was standing near her. There he was, crouching down, his face twisted, his piercing and mournful cries adding a deeper horror to the scene.

There can be no turning back. There can be no peace.

Anders' words just before the explosion echoed in her mind. Truer words were never said, Finola thought for a moment. No. No! He's wrong. Damn Anders… or Justice or Vengeance!

Her eyes went to the silent mage, his expression unmoving, not the least bit repentant, not despairing like the vacant gazes in the sea of confused people surrounding her.

He did this? Anders did this.

"The Grand Cleric has been slain by magic, the Chantry destroyed." Knight-Commander Meredith stood nearby, her eyes on the plume of smoke darkening the skies over Kirkwall.

Finola stumbled through the crowd, ignoring the admonishing seriousness of Meredith's words. When Meredith shouted something about the Right of Annulment, a hush fell over the crowd, the quiet before the storm.

"You fool," the First Enchanter seethed at Anders. "You've doomed us all! Champion, you cannot let her do this," Orsino shrieked, rage and fear erupting from his very soul.

Finola cried out, "Shut up! All of you just shut up," but her mouth had never opened. The screaming raged in her head, tearing her apart, giving her new pain as she filled with grief that seemed to have no end. How foolish she had been to think Anders was harmless.

Sebastian was on his knees, sobbing, praying, his head bowed in a trancelike state. Her other companions stood motionless, shocked and waiting for her direction. Then Meredith's voice rang out in the silence.

"Every mage in the Circle is to be executed – immediately."

Finola grabbed the Knight-Commander's arm, her fingers biting into flesh. "Are you insane, Meredith? That will only cause more useless bloodshed."

Waiting for the Knight-Commander to reply, Finola spotted Sebastian marching toward her, anger and sorrow erupting from deep within him. "Why are we debating the Right of Annulment? The monster who did this is right here!"

"Sebastian is right. You cannot punish every mage for the act of one." As blood roared through Finola's veins, something snapped in her head, tearing her mind to bits, and she pointed at Anders. "Their blood is on his hands and his alone. I will… take care of Anders, and his punishment, but I will not be involved in a bloody battle between the templars and the mages!"

"You are already involved, Champion. The people will demand blood," Meredith stated with a calm Finola could not begin to understand. "You must fight by my side."

Finola's eyes darted from Meredith to Orsino and back to the Knight-Commander again. Every mage in the Circle had been ripped from their families as a child, punished and imprisoned for being born with magical abilities. They were often made to suffer at the hands of oppressive templars, stripped of their possessions, their freedom, their pride. The image of her sister, Bethany, came to mind, then her father, a proud and honorable man, a mage. Though their time together had been short, Finola had never forgotten the sacrifices her father had made to keep their family safe. Yes, magic has caused her own family heartache, just as magic was causing the overwhelming grief of those around her now. But not every mage was Anders.

Finola stood her ground, preparing to fight a battle she had no chance of winning. With a single moment of decision, she straightened, steeling herself, and moved toward the Knight-Commander. "I will not help you, Meredith."

"Think carefully, Champion. If you stand with these maleficarum, you will share their fate."

"I would prefer their fate to yours. The templars have strength and abilities that far outweigh the mages. They will need my help to survive this… extermination you see as a solution. I will not allow the templars to rule over this city by slaughtering half the population needlessly!"

"You are a fool, Champion." Meredith smirked, pleased with herself, and pleased with the pending battle. "I will allow you some time to prepare yourselves while I rouse the rest of my Order. Then we shall see the fatal consequences of your decision."

"Thank the Maker," Orsino breathed as Meredith strutted away. "I will leave your… friend for you to deal with. Now, I must return to the Gallows. Meet me there as soon as you can."

"Orsino," Finola snapped, stopping him in his tracks. "Do not think for one moment that I approve of your methods either. I am simply helping the weaker faction in this idiotic fight. But you will have to answer some questions when this is over, if we all make it out alive."

"Certainly," he said with a look in his eyes that seemed to suggest he was defying someone, but at the same time, she saw resignation there. It was the look of a man who expected death, and Finola shivered.

"Your first act," Sebastian said, breaking Finola's glare at the departing First Enchanter, "must be to execute this traitor."

Finola watched Anders, perched on a crate, hunched over and rocking, waiting. How was she going to do this? Mere days before, Anders had been in her library with her, sharing a drink and a few laughs. After all the years they had spent together, she had finally felt connected to him, looking upon him as a friend. In the deepest recesses of her heart, she only felt disgust and bitter hatred for Anders now, but not just for him. She resented Orsino and Meredith as well, despised them for refusing to compromise, leading them all to this end, leading Finola to this decision.

If only Anders would resist, fight back, then she could kill him in self-defense. Never in her life had she hesitated to kill someone who posed a threat to herself or her family and friends. But now, she was to be executioner for one of the finest healers in all of Kirkwall, perhaps even all of Thedas.

Anders sensed her uncertainty, heard her heavy sighs. "There is nothing you can say that I haven't already said to myself, Hawke. Kill me now before there is nothing left of me."

Finola moved to stand in front of him, her penetrating glare willing him to look into her eyes and explain, but his gaze never left the ground. "It was never up to you to decide how things should be, Anders. Why? Why didn't you talk to me?" she asked, a hint of resignation seeping into her words. "I might have understood if you'd only told me. I could have… We could have tried another approach, one less like a radical and more like a peacemaker. What am I supposed to do with you now?"

Sebastian grabbed Finola by the shoulder, spinning her around to face him. "You almost sound as if you're condoning what he's done!"

"Please, Sebastian, you know I don't condone what he's done. I'm just trying to figure out if there is a better way to handle this, a more appropriate punishment. He should face his crimes as any other criminal. He should be put forward and judged." Damn it, what would Bran advise? Shit, he wouldn't care either way. He'd tell me to do what I thought-

Sebastian seized her arm and pulled Finola away, directing Fenris to assume responsibility for Anders with a point of his finger. Lifting his head, Sebastian searched her face, his eyes frozen, dazed, almost as if he weren't seeing her at all, but looking through her. "He dies, or I am returning to Starkhaven, and I will bring such an army with me on my return that there will be nothing left of Kirkwall for these maleficarum to rule."

"What are saying? You sound crazy!" She took in a calming breath, then loudly expelled it. "I understand your grief and anger, but to threaten the entire city?" An edge of fury clung to her words. "And what about me? Would you crush me beneath your righteous feet too?"

"No, no. I…." When he looked at her finally, his eyes were filled with tears, no blame or condemnation in his gaze. "I'm… I'm sorry, Hawke, I'm not myself. I just don't know what to think anymore. Elthina was like a mother to me, and I failed her. I swore to protect her and…." he trailed off wearily.

"You can't let this eat you up. Believe me, I know. Anders is to blame for Elthina's death, not you," she said, more forcefully than she intended. Finola shook of her head, a flash of annoyance in her eyes. "Maker, Sebastian, hold yourself together and do not make this any harder for me than it already is." Then her tone changed once again, to rational and caring. "I have to end this, all of this, but I need you by my side. We will do this together, all right?" He acquiesced silently, but there was a look of questioning anxiety on his face that spoke volumes. Turning on her heels, Finola strode toward Anders, muttering something about no one knowing what they were doing in all this confusion.

Fenris put a hand on Sebastian's shoulder and gestured with his head, indicating to back away from Finola and Anders. Leaning toward Sebastian, he spoke low, but there was eagerness in his tone, and in his expression. "Let Hawke take care of the abomination. This is not the time to consider your future political maneuverings."

Sebastian nodded, finding it hard to come up with more words as he watched Finola talk to the apostate.

"Was this your idea or was it Justice's?" she asked Anders.

"Vengeance… took me over. I couldn't stop him, and there was nothing you could say or do to change that."

"Oh, bullshit! You must have had this planned for a while. For fuck's sake, Anders, you could have helped restore order to Kirkwall and instead you've created more chaos! "

"Stop arguing and kill him already!" Sebastian cut in, frustrated and itching to finish off the apostate himself. "The Grand Cleric deserves justice without delay, Hawke."

"And I would not deny anyone that," Anders said. "The sooner I die, the sooner my name lives on to inspire generations."

"Although I'm sure some people here would like to see me carve you up into small pieces," Finola said, looking directly at Sebastian, and then Fenris, "I won't do that. You will pay, however, and you will be no martyr. If I have to spend the rest of my life doing so, I will ensure your name does not live on as some sort of sacrificial savior." Leaning forward, she spoke so only Anders could hear her. "Clearly you have never cared about any of us, about me, but my hands are now as bloody as yours because I was blind to your plans. And for that, I hate you, Anders. But I am not without mercy."

"For what it's worth, I'm glad it's you," Anders whispered.

His words shocked her, almost crippling her resolve, but she didn't give in. Unable to respond, Finola unsheathed a dagger, drawing comfort from its familiar feel and weight, mentally preparing to strike quickly. She stared at the razor-sharp blade, her hand trembling slightly as adrenalin coursed through her, every eye on her, every breath held in unbearable expectation.

From inside a pocket, she pulled out a vial and coated the tip of her blade with a small amount of pink liquid. "For all the times you've saved my life and the lives of our companions…" Finola looked at Sebastian, his recognition of the anesthetic agent obvious; her merciful gesture was a surprise to everyone watching. Sebastian nodded, but for some unfathomable reason, she saw a glimmer of disapproval in his eyes. However, he hadn't volunteered to take Anders' life in her stead, and Finola would do as she saw fit. With an imperceptible nick to Anders' neck, she counted to three, then plunged the dagger downward, burying it deep between his shoulder blades. "Sorry," she whispered as his life drained away.

It wasn't noble, sticking a knife into his back, but she felt no pity for Anders, or for anyone else as she watched the mage stiffen and collapse to the ground. Perhaps that was why she said she was sorry. All she cared about was the impending battle. Finola bent over and pulled the dagger from his back, leaving his blood on the blade as a reminder.

Sebastian went to her, offering her his arm, and then he led her away from the stares and the whispers. "Hawke, you did the right thing." She nodded slowly. He watched her long enough to be sure of her agreement, and then he nodded, too. "Good," he said with a small smile.

"If he had only fought back, struggled instead of accepting his fate… I've been a fool." She looked at Sebastian, a small self-deprecating frown on her lips, then she shut her eyes. "What does the Maker think of me now, hm? One killer killing another. At least I saved you all the guilt of having to do it yourselves."

"No, Hawke," he whispered. "'Foul and corrupt are they who have taken His gift and turned it against His children.' You bear no sin in this. Anders paid for the lives of dozens of innocents. It will never be enough, but it's a start."

A single word of affection would have given her courage and strength to persevere, but here he was preaching to her, assuring her that she had done the right thing in the eyes of the Maker! A sudden revulsion caused Finola to become indifferent, then indignant. Fearing a volatile argument, she walked away and addressed her silent companions.

"I would have preferred not to choose sides, but the mages are weaker and need our support now. I'm certain some mages will turn to blood magic in desperation, and the templars are now my enemies. Innocent people will be hurt. All we can hope to do is keep the casualties to a minimum." She pointed in the direction of the Gallows, shouting a rallying cry to her party. "I will not allow Kirkwall, our home, to go up in flames! We will eliminate all those who threaten our city. If you are with me in this, then follow me to the Gallows. If not," she paused, her steely gaze fixed resolutely on her companions, "good luck to you."

The crowd parted, moving aside for their Champion, and those trailing behind her in silence. Cries of "mercy" rang out as the first blows were struck in an alleyway, a handful of mages having already resorted to blood magic, demons turning on everyone who approached. Finola ran into the fray, her blades twirling in her hands, dismembering anything in her path as she pressed on toward the Gallows.

~To Be Continued~