orendalogs | Dragon Age

Entry tags:

Dragon Age - OTA

Who: A Guardian named Macklemore Journey, the Illustrious Uldren Sov and OTA
What: Surviving in a foreign land, surviving technology loss.
When: After Origins, before Inquisition
Where: Just outside of Orlais.
Warnings: Possible smut, will be marked as necessary.

"PULL BACK OR WE'LL GO RIGHT IN!"

Probably famous last words or something. After the little diatribe from The Guide (why did so many figures in his life go by titles instead of legitimate names? The Speaker, The Queen, Ghost...) Mac was at least comforted by the knowledge that he wasn't dead and they didn't get crushed into tiny particles by a black hole. Instead of a sudden spatial anomaly it was, evidently, some sort of wormhole that Uldren - stuck up idiot - plowed their ship through. All the fuss over not being allowed to pilot the ship and now they were stuck somewhere without said ship.

Marvelous.

"I'm not taking the blame this time. Oh no. No no no, this time, this time, it was all you!" Mac seethed, bristling briefly before fizzling out. He didn't have the capacity for real anger lasting more than a few moments. Generally he left it up to Uldren to be the irate one. After he was assigned as escort to the high and mighty Prince, things got weird. Then they got heated and now? Well...

Glancing over at the assassin, Mac wondered if Uldren was trained for survival or just all show. They'd never been stranded before. Stuck at outposts on occasion, but never legitimately without transport. Or weapons, Mac observed ruefully. Of course he just had to set his guns aside to lounge more comfortably in the navigator's seat. What an ass thing to do.

Uldren still wasn't talking. That was never a good thing. If the man wasn't being snarky he was being bitter, but he always had something to say. Puffing a sigh and turning away to check his armor over, Mac did a quick inventory and decided he was probably screwed. At least Ghost was still there...

"Have you ever seen so many trees? And there's no debris anywhere...no rusted out cars, no airplane carcasses. This isn't Earth, that's for damned sure...Oh. My. God. Is that a bear?" Mac asked shrilly, scrambling to Uldren's side and shoving several times to get the man to pay attention. In fact, there was a bear in the distance. And some deer, a collection of birds, a rabbit and an open meadow surrounded on all sides by forest. Mac had landed next to a creek when he tumbled ass over head through the portal - fortunately his head wasn't that susceptible to heavy blows, thick as it was.

"Uldren. ULDREN. Where are we? Ghost where are we?"

"I cannot sense The Traveler's Light. I cannot find The Darkness, either. Scans show no signs of Fallen, Hive or Vex activity...I do not know where we are located...I'm not even sure how we still exist."

Well, that wasn't even a little comforting.

"I'm too pretty do die in some weird mystery woodland. Ghost, find a way home--"

"The Guide was very clear. You will get home by traveling there on your own. I cannot make a way back if I don't know where we are."

"Good for nothing chatty Rubic's Cube," Mac muttered, looking at Uldren fretfully. Hopefully the man really didn't blow up and blame him for this...they were definitely going to need each other if--

"I detect human life forms. The signs are faint and distant. On foot it will take several days to find them. the concentration suggests a city. Shall I chart a course?"

"Yeah! Yes. Yeah do that...chart a course...thing...shit. Days? I've never taken days to get anywhere..." Mac complained to himself, reaching up to tug his helmet off, tucking it under his arm as he inhaled the remarkably fresh air. No Hive? No Fallen or Vex or Crota or any other miserable bullshit breathing down the neck of all that was good? He could tolerate the vacation.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

It had been an accident of course. No one willingly flew into a suddenly-appearing portal into god knew where on purpose! Of course, having the Guardian blame him for the whole situation didn't make things better. How the hell was he supposed to know where they were, or what they should do? And that Guide had been less than helpful to say the least! He didn't even know which of them had picked up whatever it was that sent them careering through space and time!

Uldren let Mac scream and panic as he tried to think things through, since it was easier to let than man do that than try to comfort him at the moment. It wasn't as if he actually could offer any real comfort. They were lost on a primitive world with little supplies and only each other for company. It was one thing to infiltrate stations and colonies, but the wilderness? Who went out in the wilderness? There wasn't wilderness back home! He lived in a collection of bloody space junk! Uldren had only the vaguest notion of how to do anything in "the great outdoors;" when all was said and done, he was just as much a "city boy" as anyone else.

He had no idea what to do in the middle of nowhere.

Eventually Uldren turned to look at Mac -and they'd discuss the shoving and accusations later- and pulled off his own helmet. He shook his hair back and fixed the man with a sharp gaze. Uldren had had enough of hysterics and blame.

"Mac, shut up. There's nothing we can do about being stuck here right now. I didn't fly us here on purpose, we're not dressed or prepared for this sort of environment, and before it gets dark we need to find a defensible position and get a fire started." Uldren sighed and shook his head a little, "We're not going to die alright? Even though you threw your guns away, I didn't. Now come on. We need to start moving. We'll never find another portal just standing around, and I don't want to sleep out here in the open."

He started forward, face a carefully blank mask. The last thing they needed was for Mac to see just how unsure Uldren was about their chances in this strange place. He had to be the one in charge, because god help them both if he let himself fall apart.

"Move your ass Mac. It's time to live up to your name."

"My name? OHHHH. Journeyyyy. Right! I get it! But you know it's not actually about walking a million miles, right? It's a band name. Hrm. Well, we've got a long way to go. I guess Ghost can entertain us on the way and educate you in the ways of musical kings!" Mac grinned, lime eyes glittering brightly as he snapped gloved fingers for emphasis. The little construct accessed it's databanks and started feeding music out as the Warlock strode off in the direction suggested.

Doooooon't stop beliiiiiievin'! Hold on to that feeeeeeelin'!

The music filled the space around them, Mac shimmying and shaking, fists pumping circles as he drew his elbows in and swayed his hips, tossing purple hair side to side, lips puckering on occasion. Truth be told, Mac sang quite well, particularly in regards to his favorite music. Not that playing music in the middle of the woods was necessarily a stroke of brilliance on his part, but it clearly calmed the Guardian down. In battle he was an invaluable partner, but socially he was as inept as they came. Fortunately Uldren had the capacity for regal approaches, when he chose to comport himself in such a fashion.

They might survive.

Aaaaaaany way you want it, THAT'S the way you need it, aaaaany way you want it!

Better than bickering with each other...

The farther they walked, the more the man's music grated on his nerves. Uldren tried to keep quiet, he really did, but there was only so much humiliation one man could stand, and dear god but Mac was embarrassing. Even in the middle of nowhere the man managed to be a complete idiot! No matter how much the music was helping Mac stay calm, Uldren had reached his limit.

He stopped abruptly, shoulders hunched and tense with more than just annoyance. Uldren had no fucking clue how to survive in a forest and with the performance trailing along noisily behind him, he couldn't even think straight about what they should do.

"Mac stop it! Enough of the noise! I don't care how much you like that music, I can't think! Tell the damn cube to shut it!" He whipped around to glare daggers at the man, skin crawling with the feeling of being watched, although as far as he could tell there was nothing intelligent out there. Apparently having dumb animals staring at him was just as creepy as unseen enemies. Wonderful.

"Stop acting like an ass Mac. Shut your mouth and walk quietly before I make sure you can't walk at all! Or talk!"

The guardian shut up immediately, of course, lips pursing inward, teeth biting the insides of cheeks. He didn't really intend to make Uldren angry - not that it was necessarily difficult to do - but Mac responded to stress very differently from the prince. If he was upset he retreated to things that cheered him up under normal circumstances. Trudging along in silence wasn't beneficial to anyone, so far as he saw it, but the last thing he needed to be doing was making the assassin mad.

"I'm not acting like an ass," he mumbled sullenly, pouting childishly and sniffing as he kicked a pebble into the treeline nearby, startling some goat-like animal.

"You're an ass," he added, much too quietly to be overheard. In the meanwhile Ghost turned off the music and disappeared from view, reintegrating himself with Mac and staying out of sight. Certainly a sight smarter and more convenient than Mac, who couldn't go anywhere or do anything about the situation.

"I don't know what you're so worried about, anyways," Mac spoke up after a while, shrugging slightly. "That guide guy said we could get home with a little jumping around, and if we make it all the way back to our own time and all, it'll be like we never left in the first place."

The pouting look Mac had grated on Uldren's nerves nearly as badly as the music and dancing. He hadn't exactly meant to hurt the man's feelings, but he was so completely out of his element his normally short patience was nonexistent. Having Mac shimmy along behind him was just too much of him to take. They needed shelter, something defensible, and they needed to find food as well. They had nothing with them that was at all practical or useful. Even the god damned weapons were probably useless, at least for hunting!

He heaved a deep sigh, choosing to ignore Mac's muttered insult. The man might think he was speaking quietly enough, but Uldren had ears that were tuned to catching the softest sounds. He had to. An assassin relied on his ears as much as his eyes, more so usually. The faintest scrape of a shoe or panted breath might mean the difference between life and death. And Mac wasn't exactly wrong anyway. He was an ass.

"Mac, just think for a minute. We have no place to sleep, nothing to eat, and we have no idea where the hell we are. We have to survive long enough to find those portals and get home. I'm not particularly skilled in an environment like this, and I don't think you are either." He stepped up to the man, curling a hand around Mac's nape as he pressed their foreheads together. Uldren wasn't the type to get all mushy, assuming he actually felt that way in the first place, but he wasn't too proud to ask for help when he knew he needed it. They had to work together, and they couldn't start the stay on this alien world at each other's throats. A bit of an apology was a small price to pay to try and keep the peace.

"I need you to help me here Mac. Until we know what the hell we're doing, we can't afford to act like we're on the ship. Or as if we were on a mission for that matter. We don't know a damn thing about this place or what might live here. No more dancing, ok?"

Pale green eyes flicked slightly left and right, gazing into the deeper, more fiery color of Uldren's before the Guardian twitched his head in the barest of nods. Silence reigned for a moment as Mac schooled himself to a less frenetic internal pace and offered up a small, unsure smile.

"No more dancing. For now. I promise," he replied softly, understanding the gravity of the situation better with the prince's more sensible approach. Mac didn't like being yelled at, but when genuinely asked to obey, he was rarely one to argue - particularly with the assassin. Moreover, he had to remind himself that his lack of care was based on his own virtual immortality - a status the other Awoken did not also have the benefit of. That certainly put things in perspective.

"We are being observed," Ghost announced quietly, drawing Mac's attention away from Uldren's face (so close, damn the missed opportunity) and out to the surrounding land.

"By who or what?" Mac asked, gloved hands tightening on his helmet as he weighed putting it back on.

"Indigenous people, nothing from our system. Slight of build, fast, agile. Humanoid but not human. Unidentified species. Scans show predominantly human features with a physical mutation of the ears."

"Mutation like how?" Mac asked, leaning away from the prince and glancing around curiously, seeing nothing, though he had no idea how far away the people watching them happened to be.

"Larger. Tapered."

"Tapered? Like...pointy? Oh my God. Oh my God, are they elves? Ghost are they? Are they elves?" Mac asked, his voice lowered but shrill with his excitement. The little construct perused his banks of information before confirming.

"They fit the physical suggested criteria," Ghost answered dubiously, unsure if he should encourage Mac's enthusiasm for meeting a previously entirely fictional race. For his part, Mac was beaming excitedly at Uldren, oblivious to the fact that the man was probably not prone to reading fantasy novels. The Guardian, on the other hand, was absolutely thrilled.

"Are they nearby?"

"Not within standard visual distance; their weapons are also primitive and unlikely to pose a real threat. They appear to be observing us using a more evolved natural sight," because Ghost didn't really comprehend the idea of magic. Yet. "They are keeping a consistent distance."

"Okay so...just curious then? Uldren, uh...while I'm normally against you being all full-tilt diva, I think I've got a plan, if you're willing to hear me out."

Ghost's words made Uldren stiffen as Mac turned toward the cube. Of course they were being watched. It made all the sense in the world that the place they were in had indigenous people, and that once those people were aware there were suddenly aliens around, they'd be observed. Hadn't he just said all this? He stood rigidly, trying to decide if a preemptive strike would be more effective than an ordered retreat, and completely ignoring Mac's conversation.

Until the man started talking crazy.

Now, Uldren had done a great deal of investigative work where Mac was concerned. He'd invaded the man's privacy to a degree that went beyond far criminal and into the obsessive. He'd spent hours poking through Mac's room multiple times when the man was elsewhere, as well as when Mac was sleeping. He'd also examined every possession, including the man's reading material. The fantasy books hadn't been his cup of tea, but Uldren had a memory better than a steal trap. He remembered everything. It sometimes took him a while to dredge up a specific memory, but he never truly forgot anything.

As Mac babbled at the cube, and got more and more excited, Uldren finally found the right memory about the right book. Now that he knew what the hell elves were, at least in the context of the fantasy novels, he could join in the discussion, which was an incredible waste of time no matter what they did. He gave Mac a long-suffering look, not at all willing to hear about a plan guaranteed to bring them more trouble than they needed.

"No. We are not looking for pointy-eared people who want to hurt us. We are finding shelter and food and a way out of here." He frowned at the man, "If you're that obsessed with sharp ears, I can pull yours out until they reach your knees, but I don't think you'll be happy with the new look." Uldren looked at the cube, "Ghost, which direction are the inhabitants in?"

"What? wait no that isn't what I wa--" Mac sputtered, irritated and perhaps a little hurt by the accusation. He was cut off by Ghost, however, which only irritated him more. Why was the construct answering Uldren? In fact, why was he so often on Uldren's side these days?

"Approximately .23 kilometers Southwest. There," Ghost replied, materializing briefly so he could turn his large eye in the direction of a short mesa and rocky cliffs. He disappeared again, determining it to be more sensible than alarming any locals.

"Oh come on, will you listen to me for like, two seconds?" Mac whined, reaching out and plucking Uldren's cloak, expression showing his frustration.

"I was going to say, if the people in this world are all that underdeveloped, chances are pretty good they haven't explored the entire length and breadth of the place. We can pass ourselves off as natives of the world but foreign to the area. You're a real bonafide prince. I'm a bonafide guardian, which is as good as saying a knight, right? So we say we were shipwrecked and stranded. It's not even all the untrue. We are stranded and for all we know, our ship is wrecked, yeah? So you play the angry prince - easy - and I play the beleaguered knight - also pretty easy. We don't look human, really, so we make something up. Doesn't matter what, as long as it sounds as fancy as we look. It's not a bad plan. Geez."

It was fairly easy to ignore Mac's protests in favor of listening to Ghost. He turned his gaze in the direction the cube had indicated and nodded slightly to himself. If that was the direction the natives were in, they were going in the exact opposite. Primitive weapons or not, getting injured was always a possibility, and they had no proof that Mac's invulnerability would still hold true in this new world. What if the idiot got wounded and . . .

No. Despite what Mac might want, Uldren wasn't taking those kinds of chances.

He finally looked down at the man clinging to his cloak, lifting an eyebrow, "Just because the natives don't have advanced weaponry doesn't mean they aren't dangerous Mac. And if they really are elves . . ." He sighed, "Do you actually remember the books you've read? Elves aren't friendly to outsiders. In fact, if outsiders approach them, assuming they don't just stay hidden, they usually attack first. Why the hell do you think waltzing up to them and telling them we're a prince and a knight would make them willing to put us up?"

"Why do you think they'd believe us, if they even gave us the chance to speak? Just because we look strange? We're not a threat to them if we can't find them, and all your books tell just how difficult finding elves is." Uldren's sharp eyes softened just a little as he pried the man's fingers off his cloak, "Mac, there's no reason to go hunting trouble. I'm sure they'll come after us sooner or later if we're here more than a day or two. I really don't think we'll leave here without you seeing an elf. I just hope it's not at the opposite end of a knife to your throat."

He turned and started walking, away from the direction of the natives, expecting Mac to fall in behind him. If the man didn't, he'd regret it, but Uldren was fairly confident that Mac would follow. The man was an idiot, but he wasn't stupid.

Frustration welled up before Mac could stop it, green eyes flaring briefly before he turned away and stalked off on his own, not giving any explanation. He would make his own camp, make his own decisions. Seconds before he'd been perfectly willing to go along with Uldren's plans, but Mac felt constantly punished for his enthusiasm and optimism. He felt as though the prince literally believed him to be a complete imbecile, and if that were the case, then maybe they ought to try seeing who did better without the other.

Granted immortality made it an unfair game to play, but he wasn't thinking all that straight.

His idea was instantly shot down without a moment of thought and it made Mac angry in a way he didn't usually get. He was a goddamn hero back home, he ougth to get at least a little more credit than Uldren gave him, just because he might act a little immaturely. Alright maybe a lot, but still, demeanor had very little to do with real intellect. He didn't mean for them to go to the elves, he just wanted to come up with a concrete plan for whenever they inevitably crossed paths with the native. But no~o, his ideas were all stupid because what? Because he liked to read fantasy novels and listen to old music? Totally unfair.

"Whatever!" Mac snapped petulantly, stomping through the grass and veering away with every intention of letting Uldren try to weasel his way out of trouble on his own. "Can't even give me the benefit of a doubt," the Guardian groused, throwing both hands up into the air.

"Is it really wise to leave Prince Uldren alon--" Ghost asked warily, only to be cut off by Mac.

"You want to make nice, go on, go with him. I don't care right now. Tch. You two go off and crawl up each other's butts, I'm going this way," Mac snapped, pointing off randomly in a direction, because it really didn't matter where they went, at that point.

He could have stopped, and certainly a large part of him wanted to, but Uldren had his pride. It was foolish as hell to split up, but as long as he stayed close enough to protect the idiot, it shouldn't be that dangerous. It wasn't going to be fun, but he could manage. Uldren sighed and continued on his way, quickly vanishing from sight. Sticking close without being noticed was really going to suck.

A few minutes later found Uldren wedging himself into a suitable tree, a good view of Mac on his right. No one was likely to notice him up that high, and he'd positioned himself in a way that falling wasn't possible. It was going to be windy, cold and probably wet, but few animals were likely to try and climb up after him. He wouldn't have food of course, but he could survive well enough for a while. It wouldn't be the first time he'd gone hungry on a job after all.

Uldren settled back against the trunk with a soft sigh, already missing the warmth and company of the man arguing with his cube. His eyes narrowed with worry and frustration. What the hell was he going to do? Fighting with Mac was only going to get them both killed, and if thy were staying still, they'd never get home! But at the same time, he knew he was right dammit! It was utterly foolish to go chasing after hostile natives, even if those natives were armed with primitive weapons. Any injury could be fatal with no way to treat it! And what did the ass want to do? Mac wanted to go racing after a fictional race of beings that were said to have powers beyond human comprehension.

Where was the sense in that!?

He huffed again and huddled in a little closer on himself, wishing he was down on the ground and wrapped up with Mac. Uldren scowled at his thoughts, annoyed at his own growing softness. They were both being foolish as hell, splitting up and fighting in a god damned unknown world. He'd give just about anything to be home, but he wanted Mac to learn a lesson before they left. The man couldn't just run around acting like a giant child for the rest of his life!

"God damned idiot!"

Lessons were hard to teach those as equipped as Guardians. Just the Ghost companions alone were enough to turn the most inept individual into a survivalist.

Those are not edible berries.

"What about these?"

Those have an abundance of a natural laxative but are edible. Though why you would inflict that upon yourself I can't really say.

"I wouldn't. I'd sure feed them to that big-headed, snobby creep, though," Mac muttered to himself, tossing aside the newly identified poop-berries. Sure he was mad at Uldren, but unlike the bitter Prince, Mac wasn't the vengeful sort. He wouldn't try getting back at the man without a really damn good reason.

"Are these okay?" the Guardian asked, holding up what looked like thick-shelled nuts. He'd heard that acorns were edible in one of his books, but the things he held seemed a bit big compared to acorns on Earth.

Scans suggest those are similar to walnuts.

"Walnuts? I've never had walnuts," the Awoken mused with a cheery smile, pleased to try something new and have a little good news in the tense situation. "Hey, why do you think he's so mad about the whole thing?" Mac asked, stuffing nuts and berries into parts of his backpack between picking up twigs and branches to start a fire, since that was always what they did in the books.

The books had cozy fireside romance, too, but there wasn't likely to be any of that in his near future, he mused gloomily.

His highness is probably concerned about the state of affairs back home. His sister is very important to him and the Queen was in a serious situation last time we received word about the Reef.

"Yeah but...all we have to do is loop around the wormhole things and get back to the time and place we left. That hologram guy even said that we don't really age or anything, hardly, so what's the problem? I've never failed him before. I'll get him home to his sister..." Mac mumbled, slumping on the spot and dumping the tinder at his feet near where he planned out a small camp space.

"Why does he always act like I'm a complete idiot? Huh? I don't get it. Here I am, busting my ass every day saving the galaxy like any other Guardian, no less accomplished and like...I can't catch a break. This guy treats me like a complete imbecile. What do I have to do to prove I'm not too stupid to share the air he breathes, sheesh."

It was only a guess, but it looked like Mac was hunting for food and firewood. Well, sticks and things anyway, none of it looked big enough to really fuel a fire. Then again, Uldren had never actually tried to make a fire before, not for it's own sake. He glared at the stooped form, wondering what Mac and his Ghost were talking about.

Probably him actually.

Mac was likely bitching about the way he never gave any credence to the man's ideas, which was hardly true! Uldren was perfectly happy to listen to Mac when the man was speaking sense, but hunting down the natives just because they fit the very vague descriptions of a fictional race of beings was nonsensical. It was ridiculous! You didn't drop down into a strange world and start hunting down the natives! You tried to get your god damned asses the hell back home!

Uldren heaved a sigh and wedged himself tighter against the tree, uncomfortable, getting cold, and rather hungry as well. He glared at Mac, more and more annoyed with the man and himself. Fighting was completely counterproductive! Being separated was just plain stupid, and neither of them was getting any closer to going home. What if Mac's wandering opened up another wormhole? What if the idiot left through it?

What if he couldn't get there in time?

He shivered and wrapped his arms more tightly around himself. It would be easy to swallow his pride and trudge back to Mac, but what was the point? They'd still be fighting about what to do, and they'd still be vulnerable to attack while they did that. No matter what the hell he did, he was still going to be less than happy with the results. At the rate they were going, he might as well take the extra risk and go hunt down one of the damned elves himself so Mac could see one and get it out of his system! God damn the idiot!

Despite Uldren's doubts, Mac managed fairly well with Ghost's suggestions and direction - not perfectly, but well enough. He scooped out a dry space between large boulders and used rocks and branches to start a small fire. Dumping his piles of berries and nuts onto a large leaf near the fire, Mac set immediately to collecting more branches and broad leaves to weave a neat mat roof that he put between the boulders just in time for the patter of a soft rain to start falling.

Hours passed and Mac huddled in the surprisingly cozy shelter, eating berries with a forlorn expression as he sat on his long coat, the garment large enough for more than one person to sleep on, provided they didn't mind being extremely close. Not that he'd be sharing, he thought to himself gloomily. Uldren seemed to have gone off on his own, unwilling to accept that Mac wasn't an idiot, leaving the guardian there to stew alone in the rain and unfamiliar surroundings.

The rain was what ultimately drove Uldren out of his tree. Perhaps if he'd had a hood he would have tried to wait Mac out, but as it was . . . He slid down out of the tree as silently as he'd climbed it and drifted off in the direction Ghost had indicated the natives were in. If he was going to get wet, he might as well be busy doing something constructive.

It didn't take him long to find the people, although it was probably just luck. An errant gust of wind brought the scent of smoke to his nostrils, and since he knew it couldn't be from Mac's fire, there weren't too many other options. Uldren moved slowly and soundlessly, inching his way closer over several hours, just following his nose, until he could finally hear the faint sounds of voices. He moved even slower then, creeping up on the rather snug little camp with all the skill he'd ever learned, and only just managed to avoid a nearby guard. Uldren froze just past the shadowed figure, trying to decide if it was a better idea to take the guard, or try for someone in the camp proper.

Then again, that wasn't really a choice.

He slunk back toward the slender figure, reminding himself that he needed to capture, not kill. Killing a native would be a bad thing, a very bad thing. If something went wrong, he was just going to run and give up on this crazy plan, but he didn't expect anything to go wrong. He might not be invulnerable like Mac was, but he could certainly take a few hits with primitive weapons easily enough if he had to, and do it silently as well.

The heavy sound of purposeful footsteps were the only warning Mac was given. Uldren stopped a few paces from the man's shelter and dumped his burden rather carelessly on the ground; the damned kid had gotten in a good punch to his jaw that still throbbed, not to mention the shot the guy had taken at his groin. He stood silently, waiting for Mac to come out into the rain, and rubbed his jaw absently. He was soaked, slightly battered, cold and starving, and the man had better get his ass out of that cozy little shelter soon or he was going to drag Mac out!

Mac nearly jumped out of his skin when Uldren tossed the body on the ground, green eyes widening as his jaw dropped in an expression of equal parts thrilled and horrified. He didn't have the immediate presence of mind to question why Uldren though it would be a good idea to do what he did, but only because Mac's concerns were more immediate and familiar.

"You're soaked to the bone!" the Guardian scowled, pushing himself up to his feet and gesturing towards the shelter. Gloved hands reached up, pushing the prince's hair away from his face to frown at the swelling.

"Go get dry and clean?" Mac suggested gently, gripping Uldren's shoulder and patting gently before moving to crouch next to the elf, a hand pressed to his own chest to steady himself and school his excitement away.

"It's not dead is i--" Mac started to ask until the elf groaned and squinted large eyes at the Awoken, who stared down at the native in shock. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?!" he yelped, pulling the elf upright carefully and tugging him closer to the fire. The elf struggled to get away, not understanding Mac's language and fearing the strange-looking man was preparing to toss him into the flames. When Mac propped him up and patted his back lightly, the elf could only stare suspiciously. After all, Uldren had not been nearly as welcoming as Mac.

"There's food wrapped up in the leaves over there," Mac stated off-handedly, glancing up at the prince. "If you're hungry. There's no meat though, sorry. There's clean water caught in a divot in the boulders just behind you as well. You can wash up or have a drink, whatever. Um...are you planning on killing him?" Mac asked, thumbing over his shoulder at the elf, who continued to stare between the two odd-skinned, odd-eyed men.

"I mean...if you don't plan on killing him I'd kind of rather help him get situated. Try to get him to talk so Ghost can work out the language."

Mac's obvious concern soothed his temper a bit, as did the gentle hands on his face and shoulder, but he was still annoyed at life for the time being. He didn't even bother to see what the man was doing with their prisoner, much more interested in briefly basking in the warmth of the fire and examining the solidity of Mac's shelter. He waved a hand absently to dismiss his partner's offer of food. Now that he was faced with a warm, dry place to curl up, the gnawing in his belly was something he could easily ignore.

And really? Berries? Couldn't Ghost flush out something with meat for Mac to kill?

Uldren stripped with no thought to his own modesty, scowling at his wet clothes. Where the hell was he supposed to put them to get dry? He tossed them in the general direction of Mac and their prisoner and crawled into the shelter, wrapping up tightly in the man's coat. With a sigh of relief he closed his eyes, slowly letting his muscles relax into the dry warmth of the fabric. His voice was barely more than a growl, but there was no real anger behind the words, which Mac should be able to figure out if he could tear himself away from the elf long enough to listen.

"If I wanted him dead, I wouldn't have gotten kicked and punched, now would I? Just do what you want with it and turn it loose someplace far away from me." He cracked one eye to glare at Mac and hiss, curling tighter in his improvised bedding, "And I swear to god if you start fucking it you'll only wish you were dead!"

"If I what?" Mac croaked, horrified by the very idea that he would sink so low. On his own, anyways. There were a lot of things he'd do for those he had any personal loyalty to. Mara and Uldren held particularly high standing there. hey could certainly demand questionable things.

"Why would I do that? Why?" Mac asked, staring at Uldren as though he'd grown a second head before reaching up and patting both of the elf's cheeks. The elf, for his part, stared blankly at the exchange, ears twitching with Uldren's quick disrobing. If he was afraid, he didn't show it, preferring either to act dignified and "tough" in the face of danger, or literally being so confident that he refused to show any fear. Maybe he genuinely didn't feel any fear, who could say?

"Don't be crude," Mac muttered, turning his attention to the elf with a careful smile. "Are you alright?" he asked, tilting his head slightly before touching his own chest.

"I'm Mac. Mac. Me. That's me, Mac. And that's Prince Sov," he said, pointing to Uldren. "Mac. Prince Sov. Mac. Prince Sov..." he trailed off, pointing to the elf and arching a brow slowly in question, the universal example of 'this is my name, now what's yours'.

"I only need a few sentences from him and I can map the language based on the tone and patterns," Ghost remarked to Mac only. They had decided Ghost staying out of sight was in everyone's best interests for the time being.

"One; you seem obsessed with the idea of elves and I have a feeling some of your fantasies feature them very prominently. Two; even if he's young, the kid isn't exactly hideous and you're not a monk. Three, he's tied up and you're not. Four; you might be in the mood to try and make me jealous, although shoving your dick in his ass isn't going to get you that result."

It was a longer speech than he wanted to make, and the last half was more than a little muffled as Uldren snuggled deeper into the coat. Only his eyes and the top of his head were visible by the time he was done. He growled into the coat, eyebrows coming down into a severe "V" as Mac went into his Tarzan-and-Jane routine. Honestly! Why couldn't the man just tweak the elf's ears and kick him out?

"He doesn't give a shit what your name is Mac! All he's doing is letting you act like an ass! And he talked just fine half the way back here, even if none of it made any damn sense. Just suck his ears and get rid of him!"

The bluer one kept touching him, and it was getting on his nerves. The grayish one that had captured him -and that certainly still rankled!- was curled up in the rough shelter, and by the tone of his voice and the blue one's reaction, he was being sarcastic or insulting. Which the blue one deserved, in his opinion. Whatever the reason was that the gray one brought him here, the blue one was acting like an idiot.

His eyes flitted from one to the other, though mostly he watched the bluer one, since that was the man -he supposed they were men anyway, despite the strange color of their skin- that kept touching and talking to him. He wasn't scared, not exactly, but he knew better than to think he was safe, or to give away anything to an enemy. He stared blankly at the bluer one, turning over the sound his captor had made -a name most likely, probably both of their names actually- in his mind. It wasn't as if he couldn't mimic that noise, but why should he? No, there was no reason to so much as open his mouth, although it was a little funny to watch . . . Mac . . . act like he was talking to a child. Of course, it was also insulting.

"DUDE. SERIOUSLY?" Mac barked, picking up a spare stick and whacking Uldren with it several times. It didn't hurt at all, merely thumping against the thick, solid warmth of the coat. He never would have struck Uldren without damn good reason anyways.

"Stop being gross just because you're bitter about this whole thing. Holy geez, man! I'm not going to get all handsy with him. He's a prisoner for no good reason! You just brought him here to show off and make a point that I have yet to get, honestly. He's not the one at fault for us being here, and neither am I. So really, stop being a prick," Mac huffed, running a hand down his face and sighing as he sat back into the cubby-hole of a shelter. The covered space was big enough for all three of them to be out of the rain at least.

"Look, I know you can't understand me," Mac stated, gesturing helplessly as he stared at the elf with an earnest expression. "But it would be a lot easier if you'd say something. Anything. I don't even care if you curse at me and call me every negative thing in the world, but just a few seconds of you talking can make this all a lot easier. I'm just trying to be polite with names. Can't you give me anything?" the Guardian asked, sighing softly.

"Please?" he asked, the tone and expression making the meaning clear even without shared language. Aside from the attempt at being clear with names, Mac spoke to the elf like he would speak to anyone else.

"If you just help me out, I'll untie you and let you go. I promise," Mac added, holding up his hands together and gesturing them pulling apart, then gestured the elf going off somewhere else. Universally it was 'I'll let you go', simple as that. The elf, of course, had every intention of silently weathering his inevitable torture or whatever the two strangers had planned, but Mac seemed truly sincere, particularly in the face of his arguments with the other man. Sov? Maybe. Flexing the muscles of his jaw he warred with wanting to be free and wanting to be stubborn. He didn't like either of them, but, much like the prejudice elves suffered at the hands of humans, perhaps he was being prejudiced against these men for no good reason. They hadn't exactly attempted to hurt him. Just catch him...

Uldren snarled when Mac attacked him, but he was too warm and too tired and too hungry to actually do anything else. He inched over a little when Mac sat down, but he also grumbled into the coat unintelligibly about doing so. What he really wanted was a real bed in a real building and a huge table groaning under a feast. What he had was a fairly warm coat to curl up in and berries to eat, if he could make himself free an arm long enough to reach for them.

He'd already decided that being warm and drying out was worth more than a handful of berries, no matter how much effort Mac had put into gathering them.

The elf watched Mac gesture and flail, trying to decide if it would be worth it to speak. He could figure out what the man meant easily enough, that if he talked they'd let him go, but why did they want him to talk, and what was he supposed to say? Anything bout his home or he other elves was absolutely out of the question. He'd already betrayed his clan more than enough by being captured and leaving the camp poorly guarded. SO what was the point in saying anything?

Then again, they really hadn't hurt him. In fact, he'd hurt the grayer one rather badly during their silent struggle, which probably explained why he'd been carried and dumped so carelessly. He shifted a little, wishing he could rub some of the bruises that were starting to really ache. He chewed his lip a little, showing both his indecision and his youth. An older scout would never show so much as an eyeblink. What if he just said a few words? Something impossible for them to glean anything from . . .

"Ilormael," the elf finally grit out, Mac's expression perking instantly. The guardian looked back and forth between 'Ilormael' and Uldren, smiling cheerily as though it were the greatest achievement in the world, Mac leaned in, nudging Uldren gently with his shoulder.

"His name is Ilormael. That's awesome. That sounds so cool. So elf," Mac chirped, the elf looking up at the word that was, curiously enough, the same in many languages. So they knew what he was, but not his language? The elf frowned, wondering if they genuinely just needed to speak and know if they would be understood.

"I'm Dalish. We don't like just being referred to as "elf"," he remarked a little tartly, Mac gazing at him with open appreciation, oblivious, for the moment, to what was being said.

"Wow. Wow. Uldren come on, you have to admit, that's a really pretty language," Mac muttered, nudging Uldren gently again before reaching over and dragging the leaf full of nuts and berries closer, absently holding up a berry to Uldren's lips while still staring at the elf.

"Just a little more. He's very clear and concise in his speech. A few more sentences and I should be able to break the language down."

Mac explained to Uldren what Ghost was telling him, then looked up at the elf, tilting his head and gesturing to the fruit and nuts.

"Are you hungry? If I cut you loose, you can eat, you can stay here until the rain stops or go home. Your choice, Ilormael. I just want to learn more. That's all." Mac explained softly, offering an apologetic look before gesturing out vaguely at the forest beyond, expression changing to mild confusion.

"We're just lost and confused. We don't know where we are or what to do. Can you understand that?" Or course he couldn't but Mac's voice was filled with sincerity and apology.

Uldren just grunted at Mac's enthusiastic chatter. He didn't care if they understood the elf, he didn't care if they got chased by the damned things when they finally let him go. All he wanted was to stay warm and sleep. If he could get to sleep, he could forget about all his other problems. No more aching jaw and groin, no more cold, no more hunger, and no more annoying chatter.

If only Mac would move faster!

He blinked at the unexpected berry suddenly pressed against his lips but opened his mouth anyway. Uldren chewed and swallowed the slightly sour berry just feeling more hungry and annoyed. He rolled over a little to glare at the odd pair, still snuggled tight in the coat. The least Mac could do was pull the damn kid in close so they could all share body heat while they chatted!

"Yeah, great. Now that you've offered all the food we had to someone trussed up and unable to eat it, why don't you both just strip on down and curl up with me? I'm cold, hungry and on the verge of beating both of you senseless. If you insist on talking all night, at least give me more comfort!"

"Oh my gosh, could you whine anymore?" Mac asked, rolling his eyes and huffing a soft sigh before holding his hands out to the elf. "Give me your hands. I'm not going to keep you here just for the sake of having an easier go at the languages around here," the Guardian replied, chewing his bottom lip briefly before shrugging.

The elf stared at Mac's outstretched hands briefly, large eyes flicking up to both men's faces, searching for some sense in the moment. The back and forth between the two was confusing and conflicting, but Mac seemed intent on letting him go, and if the imbecile was willing to release a prisoner, so be it.

"I don't know who you two are, but you don't make any sense at all," Ilormael murmured, stretching his arms out warily. Despite not believing Mac's intentions, the elf soon found his hands free. Those large eyes stared for several seconds before hands hurriedly worked the other bonds off his body, full intending to sprint for freedom. Mac watched patiently, occasionally glancing at Uldren as though to silently ask him not to interfere.

Sniffing softly and glancing up at the sky, Mac flicked his eyes to the prince and then up, trying to warn the Crow about the weather. There was little need however, because as soon as the elf jumped up to cut and run, a flash of lightning burst across the sky and slammed into the tree several yards away. The sound was terrific, the boom absolutely deafening. Mac was unmoved, watching it all with a peculiar stillness that only Warlock Guardians really had. Uldren would have seen Mac call upon the forces of the storms on their missions, and of course knew that Mac could harness lightning, fire and the void itself when he needed, but it was no doubt always a little eerie to see the warlock - usually so frenetic - being calm and composed in the face of a very real natural disaster.

The elf certainly wasn't prepared, and jumped in the air several feet with a screech, stumbling backwards and scrambling into the shelter without even realizing he'd gone right back into the den of his previous enemies.

"Everyone alright?" Mac asked pleasantly, scooting in closer to Uldren with a lopsided grin. Clearly he was amused by everything.

"I'll just....stay here for now. But don't try anything!" Ilormael snapped, glaring at Mac and Uldren. Fortunately during the exchange and lightning strike, Ghost had time to process what he could of the spoken elvish language. Without a root tongue it took longer, but for a little super computer it was hardly real work.

"You...can stay as long as you like," Mac replied in the elf tongue, repeating words that Ghost fed him. Ilormael turned his head slowly, staring at the Guardian with wide eyes.

"You speak my language?" he demanded, looking ready to fight, though he wasn't sure why.

"Very little. Very very little. I will learn more," Mac replied slowly, shrugging slightly. The words were poorly pronounced, the pacing broken, but it was clear enough to be understood and the elf stopped bristling quite as much, seeing real effort and no longer being threatened or heald prisoner. Perhaps by nature, but not by the strange men who were awfully close, he observed.

Everything Mac said or Ilormael said was quietly translated by the Guardian for Uldren, even if the back and forth was a little tedious. Mac didn't want Uldren left out for any reason and was careful to include him and be clear.

He growled at Mac and glared impartially at both of his current companions. Mac was lost in the throes hero worship, or something like it anyway, and the kid he'd brought looked suspicious and ready to run at the slightest opportunity. He rather wished the elf would run; then he could get some sleep and all that body heat Mac was selfishly hoarding by paying so much attention to the damn boy would be his.

When the Guardian offered to cut the elf loose, Uldren snorted and just watched, meeting the kid's eyes with a completely blank stare. He'd taken the elf for Mac, so if the man wanted to give away his gift, he could. Of course, he'd never let Mac forget how much trouble he'd gone to for the elf, or how much he'd hurt and been ignored after all that work. The very least the man could have done was give him a kiss! Uldren's eyes followed every nuance as the elf spoke again, gathering from the tone, at least, that the kid thought they were both crazy. He nodded slightly, lips twitching just a hair in something that might have become a smile. It was even odds both he and Mac actually were mad. One had to be to live the lives they did.

Uldren watched as Mac freed the boy, then caught the look the man gave him. He lifted a brow, but a moment later his silent question was answered. He didn't jump, but Uldren did tense, not that anyone was looking at him. It was creepy, watching Mac go so completely still, and he barely managed to get out of the way before the elf scrambled back into the shelter. He hissed softly when the kid trampled his foot, but that was all. He wanted to do more, but lashing out at a scared kid, or punching his lover, wouldn't do anyone any good. He growled again when Mac asked sweetly if everyone was alright, but he didn't push the man away when he sidled closer.

It was cold, and now getting damp, why the hell would he turn away more heat?

His head jerked around when Mac started to spout the same liquid gabble that the elf had. It was one thing to have Ghost translating for Mac and then getting the running translation from Mac himself. Hearing that musical language come out of Mac's mouth was just . . . strange. Distorted and inaccurate as it might be, it still made his skin crawl just a bit. Uldren's eyes narrowed as the elf and his lover spoke; even if he eventually knew what they were saying, it was extremely unsettling to be left out. This had seemed like such a good idea back when he'd been so pissed off at the Guardian . . .

And just what did the elf think they were going to do to him?

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