Disclaimer: I don't own DA or any related characters; just playing around with the lovelies. No money earned, unfortunately.
A/N: What can I say about this little brain-worm? It wouldn't go away. The premise is that during the time Loghain is supposedly out looking for King Maric (from the comic books I haven't read) he's actually well-aware exactly where the man is. This started out as an idea for a comic book itself, and if I ever figure out how to organize an undertaking like that, it may still become one.
Antiva City, The Docks, Midnight
A warm rain fell softly. Big black boots, leather sides caving in with age and hard wear, stomped down a rotting gangplank. A big hand reached out from beneath a black cloak and deposited a pouch of coins in the hand of the ship's captain.
"Do just as I told you," a low, growling voice said. All that could be seen of the man beneath the deep hood of his cloak was the tip of a long, pinched, and rather crooked nose.
The captain touched the brim of his hat respectfully. "Just as you say, Yer Grace. The letters will be posted reg'lar, at each new port a' call."
The pouch of coins disappeared into the captain's coat and the big hand momentarily clasped his. Then the captain went back up the gangplank and the big man in the cloak walked on, up the dock to another man, tall but smaller and similarly attired, who waited on the shore.
"You came at last," the smaller man said. "I was starting to think you wouldn't."
"I almost didn't."
The smaller man held one hand out to shake. The larger man merely stopped walking. A cold silence stretched between them, and the smaller man pulled his hand back. "All right, no handshake, then."
The larger man walked on, and brushed past the smaller man rather brusquely. "People are worried about you."
"I know. I am sorry, but this is the way it has to be. I made a promise and I must keep it. And you made a promise, too."
"I? I remember making no promise."
"I wrote to you and asked you, as a friend and a brother, to speak the truth to no one. I trusted you."
"Relax. Everyone thinks you're lost at sea, and everyone thinks I'm spending the royal treasury dry trying to find you."
A sigh of relief. "Thank you, my friend. Now, how about that handshake?" He held out his hand again.
The larger man stopped, half-turned, and looked at the hand. Then he turned back and continued walking. The smaller man spread his arms wide.
"A hug, then. Can I at least get a hug?"
LINE BREAK HERE
Two tall men strolled through the Antivan capital. It had stopped raining, and the larger of the two men pushed back the hood of his cloak, revealing a shaggy head of thick, black hair framing a narrow, pale, hatchet-carved face. A moment's hesitation, and the other man followed suit. His face couldn't be more different, broad and regular and handsome, framed with long, golden hair.
The early morning markets were beginning to bustle. Restaurateurs argued with greengrocers over the freshest vegetables, homemakers manhandled the rinds of various melons, testing for ripeness, and all around was a rapid-fire gabble of Antivan from which their untrained ears could barely discern individual words.
"So, I'm here. Now will you tell me what the big mystery is, Maric?" the larger man said.
"Don't use my name," Maric said.
"What am I supposed to call you, then?"
"I came up with new identities for both of us. I'm Mario, and you're Luigi. We're brothers from the north of Antiva."
"You idiot. We can't pretend we're locals. We shouldn't try and pretend we're anything but what we are: Fereldens."
"And why is that, if I may ask?"
"Well first of all, I don't speak Antivan. Secondly, we both speak with pronounced Ferelden accents. Thirdly, we're not initiated into Antivan culture and finally, we bloody look Ferelden."
"What do you mean we 'look Ferelden?'" Maric asked.
"Luigi" rolled his cold blue eyes. He stepped out right into the middle of the busy market street and flung his arms out wide. Unconcerned with this crazy foreigner, the locals simply continued their business, walking under his outstretched arms. "Let's start with the height thing, shall we?"
"Hmm. You may have a point at that. All right, then, you're the great strategist. How would you go incognito?"
"Stick as close to the truth as possible. We're Fereldens, here on business. The less complicated the lie, the less likely you'll screw it up."
"I notice you say 'you'll' screw it up, not 'we'll' screw it up," Maric said. Blue eyes just stared at him for a long moment. Once Maric's eyes faltered, blue eyes finally looked away and the big man turned around and walked on.
LINE BREAK HERE
"There any meat in this pot pie, or just spices?" Loghain said, as he spit a half-chewed wad of food into his napkin.
"Oh come, Loghain - Antivan food is world-famous. You can't tell me you don't like it."
"I can and I shall. And don't you mean 'Luigi?'"
"All right, I confess; I let myself get a little too enthusiastic about the idea of operating undercover. It was a foolish plan. Thank you, Loghain, for setting me straight, as always."
"Where would you be, Maric, if I weren't around to set you straight?"
Maric leaned forward and steepled his hands together on the tabletop. "Are you ready to hear what I need from you, now?" he asked intently.
Loghain chuckled humorlessly. "I've been ready since the boat pulled in, Maric. It's you who insist upon beating 'round the bush."
"Well the truth is, I'm on a quest."
Loghain rolled his eyes. "So, what else is new?"
"Well, this is a bit different than usual. This time I'm after an artifact, an ancient relic. Of Arlathan."
Loghain stared at his friend and sovereign for a long moment, and then he burst out laughing. "Arlathan? Maker's ass, Maric - why don't you just go off looking for Andraste's holy ashes, while you're at it?"
"Loghain, I'm serious. I know where it is and everything. It's just going to take some legwork to activate it, is all."
"Activate it. For that blasted witch?" Loghain said. Maric nodded. Loghain swore.
"I promised, Loghain. I promised I would do what she told me to do, once she'd told me to do it. I have to fulfill my promise."
"Bollocks," Loghain spat. "You don't keep promises to creatures like that. Come home, Maric."
"Loghain, creatures like that are exactly the sort you have to keep promises to. They have ways of ensuring it. Now, can I count on you to stand at my side as always, or will you abandon me?" He held out one hand.
Loghain stared at him for a long moment, then sighed and clasped the hand Maric offered. "I don't know how you do it, Maric, but you've always had the knack of getting me to ignore all sense and common wisdom."