Maric the Savior

ladies and gentlemen, the hero of ferelden

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She’s not surprised by his answer, his nervous glance to Alistair beside of her. He doesn’t want Alistair to know who he is either. She can’t help but wonder why. But it’s really none of her business, as much as she likes to pretend that Alistair’s business is also her own. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she replies, taking a sip of water. “You’re free to stick with us for awhile, if you want.”

"That is very kind of you, my lady." He looked over at Alistair and watched as he picked at the remnants of his dinner. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to him, millions even. But Maric wasn't ready for that encounter-- not yet. How does one tell their son, 'Hey sorry about what happened, I wish I could help you understand-- I never hated you, now can I travel with your lot until I can have my palace back?' without sounding like a complete jackass? He looked over at the Warden, a soft smile on his face, "I'm sorry about what happened in Highever, your parents would be very proud of you."

"Do you have any food? Perhaps juice to a tea substitute?"

"Do you have any idea where you even are?" Maric was only half-amused by the man's answers but not enough to not be curious. He motioned towards one of the many doors that splintered off from the main hall, the kitchens are that way, follow me."

"I think it is impossible to drink the world’s tea in one lifetime. To scour the earth of the plants it takes, is a possibility. Highly inappropriate, of course."

"Well you have to be here for some reason, am I wrong?" He shrugged at the topic of tea, "Would you believe I"m not much of a tea drinker? A minor flaw in an otherwise perfect plan."