Anders followed Hawke, Varric and Isabela into the Keeper's aravel, Fenris an almost ghost-like presence behind him. Anders' gaze was on the brightly-coloured woven mats that covered the floor, but he lifted his head, sensing eyes upon him. As he glanced around, it was obvious that Hawke and Marethari had been discussing him; they were both regarding him intently - Hawke's expression troubled, the elven Keeper's gaze kindly yet grave.
"Hawke has told me of what troubles you, child," Marethari said gently, and gestured towards him. "Come, let me look at you."
With an uncertain look back at Fenris, Anders allowed himself to be beckoned forward. He towered over the diminutive elf; and yet somehow he felt small and childlike under that knowing, ancient gaze. She regarded him thoughtfully for long minutes whilst he shuffled restlessly from foot to foot, scuffing the worn toe of one boot into the pile of the small rug at his feet. He wanted to look away or drop his gaze, but something in those emerald green eyes transfixed him to the spot. It were as though she were somehow looking into his very soul.
Perhaps she was.
Finally with a small reassuring smile, she gestured to him to sit; with an exhaled huff of relief, Anders flopped down gracelessly onto a nearby pile of cushions, trying to arrange his long limbs into a position that wouldn't have his back and knees screaming in under a handful of minutes. He couldn't quite quell the resentful look he darted at Fenris as the white-haired elf dropped easily into a cross-legged slouch next to him. He took some small measure of satisfaction in Hawke's expression of discomfort as the larger man tried to get into a semi-comfortable position in spite of his armour.
"There are two forces within you, child, and both will rend you asunder if left unchecked," Marethari stated without preamble. "The wolf blood, that is known to me - but the other is strange." She cocked her head to one side, expression one of curiosity. "Tell me, child; how is it you bear a demon inside and yet do not fall prey to it? It is like no other spirit I have ever encountered."
"Justice is no demon," replied Anders, but his tone held no heat, only the weary resignation of an answer given by rote.
"Yet this Justice would seek to control you - or would were it not so preoccupied with the wolf within you, I think," she replied.
"Justice doesn't control me," denied Anders. "We're joined - we're one, I can barely tell any more where he ends and I begin."
"Is that so?" replied Marethari thoughtfully. "I think you know perfectly well where Anders begins now - and that's quite separate from your Justice."
"No, I..." began Anders before tailing off.
It was true. He felt himself more than he had in a very long time. He was aware of Justice still lurking inside, but the spirit was... distant, its focus elsewhere. His thoughts were his own. And yet he could still feel the spirit's essence woven all through his own. They were together yet apart; and yet were the spirit to be ripped from his flesh he knew he would feel the loss keenly.
And as he let his awareness dwell upon those dark places within, he was terribly conscious of the malevolent, raging entity that was the werewolf within. It and Justice were locked in eternal battle within the very core of his being, both vying for dominion over the other - and over Anders himself.
"They will destroy you with their strife, child," said Marethari gently. "Their battle is taking a toll upon you; it is a terrible burden that will be your undoing."
"Can you help him?" rumbled Fenris at his side.
"Yes," acceded Marethari, inclining her head, "And yet even that will not be without a cost."
"What do you mean?" asked Hawke.
"I cannot separate the two spirits," replied the Keeper gravely. "They are too closely entwined; their substance blurred together. I would have to drive both out, but at what cost to his soul I cannot say."
"You can... free him? Completely?" demanded Fenris, leaning forward, a sudden gleam in his eyes.
"It is not a simple matter, but... yes, I can free him of his demons, if he wishes," she nodded, turning back to Anders once more. "But only you can decide if it is worth the price you will undoubtedly pay."
"What will happen if you do nothing?" asked Anders, his mouth suddenly dry.
She regarded him sadly. "You will lose control more and more. There will be more wolf, a little less Anders each time; and as Justice and the wolf strive to overcome each other the battle will take more of a toll upon your body, making it harder to resist. Eventually you will succumb, and either the wolf or the demon will take your place. Perhaps both."
"A werewolf abomination? I'm not sure I care for the sound of that," replied Hawke uneasily.
"Indeed, it would be a thing to be feared," agreed Marethari.
"I will not permit it to happen," vowed Fenris.
"And what will you do to stop it, warrior who is named for the Wolf?" replied Marethari. "Would you have the courage to slay one for whom you-"
"I would," Fenris said swiftly, cutting her off. "I would release him from his curse myself if that were the only way to save him."
"Do I get a say in any of this?" uttered Anders plaintively.
"Of course," replied Marethari calmly. "That is why we are here, child."
Anders stared down at his hands. They were trembling.
"Anders?" murmured Fenris, laying a hand upon his shoulder.
"I'm afraid," whispered Anders hoarsely.
"It would be a strange thing indeed were you not," replied Marethari. "Bravery lies not in confronting things without fear, but in fearing yet choosing to walk into the darkness regardless." She tilted her head to one side. "Will you walk?"
Anders swallowed past the lump of fear in his throat then slowly nodded. "Let's do this," he said quietly as Fenris' grip tightened reassuringly upon his shoulder. Fenris had no idea what Anders was facing, yet the blond apostate took comfort in his presence. "So, when do we start?" wondered the mage.
"You already have," replied Kuriel as he lunged towards Anders with a feral snarl and everything turned red then black.