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"Who taught you to play?"
"My father."
Maric sat quietly next to the commander, watching him pluck away at the instrument in his hands with a relaxed ease. It was different than the refined training he was used to seeing from traveling bards-- a more casual hand position and lazy strum that made the lute's notes melt together. "I didn't expect plucky little melodies like this from you, I'll be honest."
Loghain snorted. "What else is a young farmboy to do in his free time? I grew tired of wandering aimlessly as soon as I was old enough that my legs could carry me all the way through our fields." He paused, deciding to humor Maric just a bit and continue. "I had a dog. I suppose she was my best friend."
"Surely you had more friends, all children do." Maric leaned back onto his hands and watched the fire before them pop and crackle.
"I didn't get to be a boy for long, Maric. I worked and lived in the countryside, and then Orlais came. That meant I had to become a man in my teenage years."
Silence filled the space between them as Loghain reached the end of the song.
"...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything." The prince tucked a stray lock of golden hair behind his ear and watched his companion for a reaction.
"No, I'm quite alright." Loghain studied the other's expectant expression quizzically, searching for some indication of what he should say next, but all he found was more of Maric's childlike naivety and an apologetic smile.
"Play me another song?"
The darker man just barely chuckled, and looked to the lute again. "As you wish."