Disclaimer: I don't own Dragon Age or any of its related characters. This is just for my own enjoyment and the potential enjoyment of other fans like me, and no monetary gain was expected or received.

Rating: T+

Spoilers: May contain spoilers for Origins, Awakening, Origins DL content, and Dragon Age II as well as the novels The Stolen Throne and The Calling.

Chapter Eighty-Three: The Man in the Leather Mask

Dressed in black leather and black hooded masks, the party slipped through the streets of Antiva City in the dark of night. The Palace of Justice was in the center of the city, far from the docks, and they were careful not to be seen on the long trek through the nighttime byways.

The stealthiest of the party went first, followed by the heavier steps of Loghain and Elilia and Alistair, and Seanna tagged along at the back. It was a nerve-wracking walk from the decks of the ship to the city center, dodging guards and other late-night eyes. Loghain was on-edge, not particularly built for stealth ops.

"This way, my friends," Zevran said in a whisper, as he turned a corner. The Palace of Justice lay just beyond. Within it, if the rumors were true, Maric Theirin of Ferelden lay in wait of rescue. Loghain scarcely knew what to hope for. It seemed to him impossible that Maric could still be alive. That he could still be…in this world.

Zevran snuck up behind the guard at the door and knocked him out. A dose of a particular toxin ensured that he would remain out for some hours. "Let us hope, my friends, that patrols are as lax as they were in my previous visit," Zevran said. "We have the possibility of getting in and out without ever being noticed."

"Now to find the man with the keys, eh?" Loghain said.

"Shouldn't be difficult. Wait here, my friend. Isabela and I will take care of the Jailer."

They waited some minutes. "What's taking so long?" Alistair said, and Loghain shushed him.

"Give them time."

They returned in another few minutes. Zevran jingled a great ring of iron keys. "Sleeping like a baby, along with three other guards. The way is clear for some distance. Let us proceed, but cautiously."

"I get the impression you don't trust us to be stealthy, Zev," Elilia said.

"Cara Mia, you are beyond all mortal women. But you move not unlike a charging bull."

"Bulls can be remarkably graceful," Alistair said. "I once saw an entertainment where three bulls were released in a show ring with several teetery shelves filled with fine porcelain, and they broke really very little."

"Gee. Thanks," Elilia said.

"Ye Olde Mythbusters, that was the name of the troupe. They also built a weapon out of mirrors, but that didn't go so well."

"Your Majesty, we really should be moving now," Loghain said.

"Oh. Right. Right."

They crept into the dungeons, following the path that Zevran and Isabela had cleared for them. "He is said to be at the deepest level," Zevran said. "Three stories underground."

"It's a deep, dark hole. Let's get down it," Isabela said.

They cautiously descended into the depths of the dungeons, past cells of sleeping prisoners. Hopefully they would all stay asleep, and not raise any alarms. With his blue Archdemon blade (the golden blade shone too brightly in the darkness), Loghain was fully prepared to fight his way out if necessary. He hoped it would not be necessary.

They found more guards on the second level, and took them out in the same manner as the others, with the same sleeping potion administered after unconsciousness was achieved. If they could get in and out without killing anyone Alistair would be happy. He had expressed concern about the possibility of having to kill men who were only doing their jobs. Loghain wasn't particularly eager to create any more fatherless children himself. The prisoners seemed oblivious to their presence, either sleeping or too concerned with self-preservation to be problematic. It was a blessing.

Down into the third level they went. There were few cells here, and evidently no guards. Most of the cells were empty, but they carefully checked each. When they found him, the cell at first appeared empty, until Loghain looked closer and saw the crumpled form lying on a dirty straw pallet. The man would be tall, was still rather muscular, but was much thinner than the Maric he remembered. A brown leather mask with eye, nose, and mouth holes was pulled down over his head, fastened to him by a chain passed through loops on the neck, and that chain depended to a pair of manacles which in turn were linked by a chain to a pair of leg shackles. It was certainly the man in the leather mask, but his true identity remained unknown.

"Maric?" Loghain ventured, in a voice just above a whisper.

"Go away, Loghain, I'm trying to sleep," the man mumbled.

Loghain's heart jumped into his throat. "Maric!" He fairly shouted it.

The man sat up, with a rattle of rusty iron chains. "Why are you bothering me?"

"Zevran, keys," Loghain said, and the assassin handed them over. He fumbled with the lock and pushed the cell door open. "Maric, it's me. I'm here."

"For real? For really real? Like, for really really real? Let me see your face."

Loghain pulled off his hood. There wasn't much light, but evidently there was enough. The mouth visible through the hole in the mask split into a wide smile and the man stood up.

"Maker's blood, you're a beautiful sight."

"Careful. He's mine," Elilia said.

"Let me get you out of these chains," Loghain said, and began unlocking the many locks that bound him. He pulled off the leather mask and revealed a dirty face covered with a dirty, matted beard and hair.

"Reunion joys should wait 'til we're back on the ship," Alistair said. "We've got to get out of here, alive by preference."

"Right. Excuse the liberty, Maric," Loghain said, and knelt quickly, dug his shoulder into his chest, and picked him up in a fireman's carry.

"Come on, I haven't been out of this cell in seventeen years. Let me walk!"

"You can get your exercise shipboard," Loghain said. "We need to move fast, before any more guards show up."

They bustled out of the prison much quicker than they went in. Stealth was less of an option now that they had their prisoner in hand, and the goal was merely to make it back to the ship as swiftly and as safely as possible. They made the streets without incident and hustled back towards the docks. They still moved quickly, but were careful to avoid the city guard.

"Raise anchor! Haul ass!" Captain Isabela shouted before they were even to the gangplank of the Siren's Call II. "Make ready to set sail!"

They all piled on board, and Loghain set Maric on his feet. Alistair at last pulled off his hood. Maric looked at him.

"Cailan! You cut your hair!"

Alistair shot a look at Loghain. His expression was hard to read by moonlight, but mostly he seemed to look worried.

"I'm not Cailan, Ser. I'm Alistair."

"Alistair! That's…interesting…"

"There's a lot we need to speak of, Maric," Loghain said. "Let us get out of port first. If you want to drown me you'll need nice deep water to do it."

"To whom else do I owe my thanks for rescue?" Maric said. "I heard a lady's voice."

Elilia pulled off her hood, and the others did as well. "It is good to see you, Your Majesty."

"Little Elilia Cousland, isn't it? Only not so little any longer! My dear, it is wonderful to see you. And here with Loghain! Loghain, maybe there's a better time to tell you this and maybe I should have had a chat with the young lady first, but I'm supposed to arrange a marriage between the two of you. Amenable?"

Elilia laughed. Loghain's lips split in an unwilling grin. "Very. We are married, Maric. We have a daughter."

"Excellent! Oh, that's wonderful news! What's her name? Who does she favor? Oh, I hope to Heaven she favors you, Elilia. It would be a sin and a shame for a young lady to grow up looking like Loghain. Not that he's a bad-looking man, but he would make for one stunningly ugly woman. I mean, eye-gougingly ugly."

"She has her father's eyes," Elilia said, laughing. "As to which of us she looks more like, it's hard to say at the moment. She's still very small."

"Not for her age," Loghain said.

"Her name is Harvest, Your Majesty," Elilia said.

"Harvest! Oh, I like that! A sweet late harvest for my old, old, friend. This is a nice ship. Is this a Ferelden ship? It looks like an Antivan ship. It's an Antivan ship, isn't it? The Captain is a lady. That's interesting. I hope it's close to sunrise. I haven't seen a sunrise in seventeen years. I'm looking forward to seeing the sunrise. Hello, dear, what's your name?" Maric asked Seanna. After the bombardment of words previous she was stunned to be addressed.

"Er…I'm Seanna, Your Majesty."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, my dear. And you are?"

"Zevran Arainai, at your service, Your Highness," Zevran said with a grand bow.

"You're Antivan. I like Antivans, although maybe not as much as I did before they locked me in a dungeon for seventeen years. And our Captain's name?"

"Isabela, Your Majesty," Zevran supplied, since the lady in question was busy at the helm and out of earshot.

"I thank you all for coming to my rescue. I shall have to arrange some sort of reward ceremony. I'm sure Cailan will facilitate that for me. I know, Loghain, I know - you don't want any reward. Tough titty, you're getting one. Oh, I can't wait to get home. Hot, baking dry summer; wet, drizzly cold autumn; ass-deep snows in winter, hip-deep rains in spring. You can't beat Ferelden weather. I can't wait to smell Denerim. I have so missed the smell of wet dog. Whose dogs are these? Fine mabari, splendid specimens. It's like having a piece of home right here on the ship."

"That's Champion and Haakon," Elilia introduced. "Haakon is mine: Champion is Loghain's."

"Loghain! You have a dog! That's wonderful! How domestic! Oh, I can't wait to meet your little girl. I bet she's a darling, and a fighter, too. Just like dear Anora. How is dear Anora, by the way? Please tell me I have grandchildren!"

"You have grandchildren," Alistair said quietly. "There is much to explain, however."

"I have grandchildren! Loghain! That means you have grandchildren! We're grandfathers!"

"Maric." Loghain's voice was quiet but firm.

"What is it, my friend?"

"You have to be quiet and listen to me for a few moments. Maric…Cailan is dead. I am responsible for his death."

The smile faded off of Maric's face. "Cailan…is dead? That's…terrible."

"Did you hear what I said, Maric? He's dead because of my actions."

"I heard you, Loghain. What I didn't do is believe you. You take too much blame on yourself, always."

"Not this time. Maric: I abandoned the field of battle and left Cailan…and half my army…to die."

Wide green eyes blinked several times rapidly. "Why?"

"I thought I had to. For Ferelden."

"Your grandchildren, King Maric, are my children," Alistair said. "I've been King for more than ten years now. I'm married to Anora."

"This is…a lot to take in," Maric said. "Excuse me, please. I…think I'd like to be alone for a few minutes."

He walked over to and leaned on the rail, and looked out at the glimmering water slipping silently under the ship's bow. The others gave him his space.

"If he wants me dead, I have it coming," Loghain said.

"Perhaps. But I'm not going to let it happen. Everything went as smoothly as could be hoped in this operation, and we are all going to make it home alive. Not negotiable," Elilia said. "Things going smoothly is a benchmark I would like very much to set, for once."