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

"WHAT? WHAT NOW YOU'RE ON HIS SIDE?!" Mac cried, though whether it was for the elf or Uldren the two could only guess, since Mac was gawking at them both and looking absolutely stricken.

"CAN WE NOT RIGHT NOW?!" Mac finally croaked at Uldren, opening both palms and raising them in a helpless gesture. "Really?1 REALLY?! Come on! Why do you always start talking like this?! If your people knew how crazy you are they've be horrified! And you!" he gasped, wheeling around and pointing at Ilormael, who drew back slightly with a grin and raised hands in a gesture of surrender.

"You're doing this on purpose!"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You're teasing me!"

"Teasing implies attraction."

"NO IT DOESN'T!"

"So I'm not attractive."

"I DIDN'T SAY THAT!"

"So I am. He said I am just now," the elf chimed, looking at Uldren and pointing to Mac, who stared in disbelief. How had it come to this? What? What? Did jerking off in the brambles make the man's balls drop or something?

"HEY COME ON!"

"Come on and what? I'm only making conversation."

"No seriously! He's serious! Uldren is serious! He does those things!"

"What things?"

Mac paused, remembering the elf couldn't understand, and hurriedly waved both hands, buttoning his mouth. No way was he telling the man what Uldren had said. No way. NO. Nevermind if the whole thing had resulted in a very confused half boner. That was what happened when you were conditioned to expect sex where arguments happened.

Uldren just gave both of them a feral smile and tore into more meat. He felt like a bottomless pit, and he'd barely missed two meals! He'd definitely gotten soft working with the Guardian, and if he was soft, Mac probably was too. Once they got home, assuming they ever managed it, he'd make sure they trained their asses off to get back the old edge. At th moment, however, he was perfectly content to watch the elf turn his lover into a tangled mess and fill his belly with hot protein.

Of any kind.

The running translation from Ghost was just a bonus, and he wasn't sure Mac realized yet that he was getting it. All to the good in his opinion. It was more fun to keep the Guardian in the dark in that respect, since he now knew exactly how deeply the man was digging his hole. He eyed Mac for a long moment, finishing his last skewer of meat and tossing the stick into the fire.

"Tell him what I'd do to him Mac. In detail. If you don't, I'll show him with a living model."

There was no doubt just who he'd be stripping and making an example of, and this time, he'd have the added benefit of a welcome audience while he preformed. Uldren was a painfully private person by nature, and anything he cared deeply about was even further off limits. The fact that the elf had spied on himself and Mac was still a disturbing and infuriating invasion of his treasured privacy, but he could ignore that in favor of playing with his Guardian. His perverse need to humiliate and use Mac in all ways was taking precedence over his upset.

Ilormael glanced at the Prince from time to time, making certain that his banter with Mac wasn't an issue. It looked, at the moment, as if their back-and-forth was actually amusing the taciturn predator, which was a plus and made him even more bold. He leaned forward a bit with a mischievous smirk, real curiosity pushing him to ask things he normally wouldn't dare.

"What things? What did he say? He told you to tell me of the things he does, didn't he?"

A shiver of mingled fear and excitement ran down the elf's spine. It was all a game of course but . . . what if it wasn't? Did he really dare to do something like that? Would he survive it? Even watching the men earlier Ilormael had had the feeling there was little holding them back from genuine violence. The brooding one especially was a danger just waiting to strike. It wouldn't take much to change those rough kisses and caresses to fatal blows.

He shivered again and swallowed, his smile faltering just a bit as the fear surged above the excitement momentarily, "He does not sleep with just anyone, does he? You are paired, yes? This is all a game, when it is come to the point . . ." Ilormael's smile slipped just a little more, the growing fear showing faintly in his eyes. He was awfully young still, especially compared to these warrior men, and he'd never actually . . .

Maybe he didn't actually want to know just want the men did to each other after all.

"Yes he does, if he wants. He's the prince!" Mac hissed, waving both hands at the elf with a pleading expression. Ilormael's fear was making Mac worry, particularly because he knew how much Uldren liked that tang in his partners. A little fear spiced things up and Mac was scared, too. Confused boner aside, Uldren was being particularly predatory and it was never an easy thing for the Guardian to resist. Without any professional capacity keeping Mac responsible, he didn't have the usual inhibitions reminding him not to give in.

Not a good thing when trying to protect others from Uldren's curious tastes!

"Paired doesn't mean exclusive and it doesn't bear any relevance to someone's tastes! He likes things you can't even imagine and he's always pretty eager to look for ways and excuses to exercise his ability to fulfill his hungers. And I'm not a very good person to look to for help," Mac admitted, pursing his lips a bit and ducking his head with an embarrassed look.

"I like it. I like his chaos and everything about him, and I'm not a good enough man to tell him no more than once. If he's insistent, I'm not one to resist. So unless you really want to start something, don't keep pushing, Ilormael," the Guardian warned, inhaling deeply and debating precisely what to tell and what not. How much would satisfy Uldren? How little would result in the Prince holding true to his word? Did Mac want to do what he was told? Which was more rewarding? Obedience or the punishment?

"He bites. He claws, he spanks. He pulls hair. He likes it when it hurts, when you're hurt, when he's hurt. Doesn't matter. He's dark and he's violent and love humiliating people. Heck, he even does it to people he's not trying to woo, or whatever. You should have seen how hateful he was when we first met! And he's creative and maybe a little demented and he likes coming up with newer, meaner things to do. He's walked me around on a leash before in front of his sister, okay? There's literally nothing he won't do if he thinks he'll enjoy it in that moment."

Ilormael listened, eyes widening as he glanced over at Uldren in equal parts wonder and horror. Mac knew that look - he felt the same way fairly often.

"So he'd do those things? Just like that in front of someone else?" the elf asked and Mac nodded emphatically.

"Absolutely. Especially in front of someone else! He'd take you in and make you part of it if he knew you wanted in. He doesn't care about...prudence, or anything."

"Your people are very strange..."

"It's mostly just him," Mac grumbled, jutting his chin slightly.

"But...you allow it. You accept it?"

"Like it, even, so yeah, I guess we're awfully strange."

"Are you two running from your people?" the elf asked suspiciously and Mac shook his head slowly.

"No. I promise you, he actually very much wants to return home. I'm a decorated hero and he's actually much loved by his people. Well...respected, anyways."

He chuckled, the sound as much amused as predatory. Maybe it was being stuck on a planet and left with only his own two hands for protection and offense, but he was feeling much more like a beast than he usually did. Seeing Mac essentially freak the hell out over when he was being forced to say, and who he was saying it to, was making him really ridiculously happy. It was funny. He could actually see the struggle Mac was going through and it tickled him. The man was torn over wanting the unthinkable to happen, and protecting the elf.

It just made him want to stir the pot some more.

Uldren listened to Ghost's running translation, meeting the elf's eyes when he glanced over and nodding ever so slightly. Mac was doing a good job of putting out exactly the sorts of things he expected during sex, and the mixture of fear and excitement in the boy's eyes was promising. It still wasn't any sure thing that they'd all end up in bed together, figuratively speaking, but it was looking a lot more likely. And Uldren had a feeling Mac was getting painfully worked up over being forced to say things that were so intimate, which really made him want to push things further.

He leaned over, one warm hand resting temporarily on Mac's upper thigh before he let it slip between the man's legs. Uldren casually groped his lover, resting his chin on the man's shoulder as he smirked at the elf, "Good boy Mac. Unfortunately, I think I see some interest in the elf's eyes. I don't have to ask if all this sex talk has had an effect on you, since I can feel just how hard you are, but do you think he's closer to wanting to go a round with us, or to run?" He massaged Mac's dick absently, his own starting to get hard now, "Have you decided whether you wanna have some company or not lover? This time, I wouldn't mind having him watch . . ."

Ilormael's eyes went very wide when the Prince moved closer to Mac, especially when the man's hand moved to . . . Oh dear. That wasn't just playing with words, and it wasn't just teasing. The man was either making a real move on Mac, or he was asserting some kind of dominance play. Either way, it was more than Ilormael was comfortable seeing and his cheeks flushed painfully as he dropped his eyes. Now was the real deciding moment. Was it all just words, or did he plan to make it into action? It was true that he could probably run before the Prince could tackle him, but he wasn't sure he wanted to test that theory. Whatever the man was back home, here he seemed to be little better than a wolf, maybe even a mad wolf . . .

"He ought to run if he knows what's good for him, but we seldom do," Mac mumbled, sighing softly and relaxing under the Prince's hands. His cock was rigid behind the tight fabrics and armors of his breeches, but even the best tailors in the tower hadn't quite figured out how to fully contain and erection and Uldren's fingers found the Warlock easily enough. The man had Mac turned to putty in moments, those dazzling green eyes that hazy, half-focused way they got when he switched off Guardian-mode and slithered into another skin reserved for Uldren.

Ilormael watched it all in horrified fascination, curious that there seemed to be no magic in use, no mind-control in place and yet Mac was losing himself effortlessly in the moment. Was that what it was like? All his time spent in the clan and camp had been extraordinarily chaste. It wasn't encouraged to seek relations where matches hadn't been made. Dalish elves were so few, they couldn't really waste time on couplings that wouldn't produce young, which meant when you had tastes leaning away from the women of the tribe, you weren't in good company.

He wondered, certainly. But was it madness to reach out to strangers? Other people did it. Camp mates for a night, people sharing their own heat by the fire, chance meetings. He'd heard of and read about such things. Was it exclusive to certain kinds of people or was a Dalish allowed a secret in a rainstorm?

A pity he couldn't speak the Awoken tongue, or that the prince couldn't understand his own. Maybe Uldren would have understood the mumbled words lost in a sigh, "I don't imagine an untried Dalish would appeal, I'm afraid."

Of course, he didn't know about the little creature translating everything, speaking up and making clear his words to the predatory prince.

Having Mac melting against him was exactly what he wanted. Uldren continued to fondle the man as he watched the elf watching them. Whether it was because the boy was still young or because he'd gotten better at reading the fairly controlled face, he couldn't have said, but he could read the confusion and longing there. It bothered him that he was essentially seducing a child, and seducing him with promises of things that weren't normal even by the most liberal standards. Did he have that right? Was he tempting the elf with something he really wanted, or was it just the complete and utter depravity that was appealing to him?

When did he start caring about what his actions did to other people? Was it Mac? Was the man's ridiculous conscience rubbing off on him? Or was it because th elf was so young? Someone so young and apparently naive, he would be taking advantage if he let the boy join them. On the other hand, Ilormael had been spying on their little tryst, and he'd jerked off to it as well. Was that because it was just sex, because it was two men, or because it was so violent and passionate? Or was there another reason completely? Uldren just didn't know, and he really didn't want to sit around and think about moral dilemmas. That was something Mac could do later. He was going to indulge himself in his usual depravities.

And Ghost's last translation just clenched his decision.

"Mac, talk to the elf. I think he genuinely wants to come over here and I'm sure I scare the piss out of him." He murmured in the Guardian's ear, squeezing the man's dick rather hard to be felt through the layers of clothing, "Talk to him Mac. Tell him he's welcome, even if he doesn't end up doing anything."

The Guardian nodded slowly, reluctant to do as he was told simply out of fear of everyone misreading everything, but he did what he was told, mushing through the language with pointers from Ghost whenever he messed up - which was more than usual, with Uldren distracting him so much. He nearly doubled over with the squeezing, green eyes squinting in half pleasure, half pain.

"I-Ilormael?" he croaked, reaching down with both hands and pulling Uldren away long enough for him to at least talk without sounding like a drowning animal.

"Hm?" the elf responded, looking up curiously before coloring faintly at Mac's heated expression and Uldren's scrutiny. What was this about?

"He thinks...the prince thinks you're trying to pretend you aren't interested and wants to know why you would deny yourself company...in...in this weather..." Not entirely true, not entirely a lie. It was an easy, neutral space for him to venture, letting everyone sound like their agendas were valid without being more important than the other. That was his intention, at any rate, and while the elf looked suspicious, he eventually relented. Mac had been understanding and kind where Uldren had not. They were the two faces of the same coin, in Ilormael's view. But Mac asked, and really, what harm was there in the telling? After that night they likely wouldn't ever meet again.

"My people are few. We...couple based on necessity more than romantic interest. Having more children is more important than what your tastes may be." Mac nodded slowly, glancing at Uldren with a faint smile. Yeah...he remembered being the odd one out, afraid his tastes weren't right somehow. apparently this kid wasn't much into the idea of a wife by necessity. The odds of meeting one another were astronomically low...so why not say as much?

"The odds of us meeting were astronomically low," he pointed out, repeating his thoughts. "Don't you think it would be senseless to pass up an opportunity presented to you by some alignment of the stars? A god's hand in it...who knows?"

"What if it's a test? What if I'm supposed to resist temptation in favor of the clan?" the elf asked, distressed by the thought, and Mac shrugged, shaking his head.

"Well, if you fooled around with us, when we've no plans to settle, were you planning on suddenly forsaking your clan and striking out on your own in pursuit of hot men like yours truly?" the Guardian quipped, thumbing at himself and earning the elf's helpless laughter.

"Good heavens, no!"

"Then what kind of test would that be? Isn't it more likely that some benevolence in the world is giving you a chance to have what you want before you're required to do your honorable duty or some such?"

"You sound like a desire demon probably sounds," the elf frowned, and Mac huffed a sigh and shrugged.

"Well, I'm not sure how I'm supposed to convince you I'm not, but look. He says you're welcome here. Even if you don't do anything, you can just stay and watch if you want, but when he says you're welcome, that usually means you're invited. So...that's up to you. You want to do something, he said it's fine. And...I guess I'll admit, I'm not opposed. It's not even him being pushy, I just don't feel disinclined to anything right now. In fact, I invite you, too. But we're probably gonna end up doin' the do, so if you are freaked out, you're gonna have to like...plug your ears and close your eyes, because we're not that shy about each other," Mac explained, gesturing vaguely to Uldren's grabby hands with a wry look.

"He thinks he scares you and that's why you don't want to, uh...explore more interesting ways of getting warmer. If it's not the case and you are interested, I encourage you to just...say fuck it, and stop sitting on that side of the fire. That's all I can really say about it," he finished, looking at Uldren and shrugging, unsure if what he said was sensible, encouraging or just fell flat. For his part, all he cared about was getting a deeper run on what they'd already started.

He was still getting a word-for-word translation of what was being said from Ghost, but he wasn't about to let Mac know that. It was too much fun to give up that little secret, at least at the moment. He even suffered having his hand shoved aside to allow Mac a bit more mental ability in finding words for the elf. He listened with some surprise at the way the man chose to go about inviting the elf to join them, but he'd given the job of getting Ilormael to Mac, so he wasn't going to interfere. He also couldn't speak directly to the kid, so anything he might have said would have been filtered anyway.

Uldren leaned against Mac as the Guardian and the elf talked, his chin still resting on the man's shoulder and an arm around his waist. He watched Ilormael struggle with what was being offered and was tempted just to make everything moot. It would be so easy to snatch the boy and drag him into an embrace! Once in their hands he doubted the elf would try to run, if for no other reason than pride, and he could certainly restrain himself enough not to terrify a virgin. Well, he could restrict himself to doing those questionable things only to Mac anyway. He mumbled in his lover's ear, eyes still firmly on the elf.

"Mac, would he be more scared if we ignored him for a bit? Maybe if we just got started . . ." Uldren shrugged a little and bit the man's ear, drawing blood, "I can hold back with the elf himself, but I'm not in the mood to wait for forever before I get some relief. I think you've talked enough."

Ilormael was still having an internal debate, but he didn't miss it when the Prince turned his head and bit Mac's ear. He winced, knowing that the bite wasn't gentle or playful, at least not by any standards he knew. He had a feeling the man had drawn blood, but Mac didn't make any move to complain or protest, which only confused him more. Did the two enjoy hurting each other? What he'd seen before had been rough, but not exactly violent, not to the point where blood was being spilled, but was that an anomaly? Was it more often that Mac was genuinely hurt? And did the man really like it that way?

He swallowed, wanting to look away, but he just couldn't seem to move, "What . . . what would I be doing? Does he . . . Will he hurt me too?"

A wince and sigh was all the fight Mac put up as far as the bite went. He was getting to that point, that zone, where all that mattered was pleasure. The pain was all part of it, part and parcel in a relationship with Uldren. The elf's question drew his attention back enough for him to smile, shaking his head slowly.

"No. Not if it really, really isn't what you want. He'd do some things, but he's not...he's not evil, Ilormael. He's wicked, but he's no less a hero to his people than I am. We're maybe unusual as a pair and our preferences lend themselves to deviance, sure. But...what are you gonna do?" he asked, shrugging with a crooked smile. "It's love."

That was the truth of it. They were crooked pins, but together, they matched up. They fit. Where the rest of the world fit into their lives was questionable, but for the moment they were looking to make a little space for someone else.

"If you want him to, he will though. He doesn't hold back. But it doesn't have to be like that. I'm not like that. He likes being hurt, too, but I don't like doing it, personally. I do it because he likes it. As for what you'd be doing? Well...what would you wanna do, I guess is the real question. Watch? Participate? Are you looking to try? You can ask him questions, too, you know? I'll translate. Honestly, at this point I think he and I are all in and we're just waiting on you."

Uldren was beyond impatient by this point. As much as he wanted to be kind to the elf, now that he'd started and made a decision on just how far he was going to allow things to go, he wasn't in the mood to wait. While Mac and the kid continued to talk things to death, he busied himself with getting the Guardian's clothes off. It would be rather evil of him to strip Mac completely, but he still had all that banked frustration from their previous disagreement that was still eating at him.

The man needed to be punished.

His hands moved with practiced ease over Mac from behind, undoing clasps and buckles and zippers while the man wasted time and breath on trying to convince the elf he was safe. No one was ever really safe, especially with him. As much as he was willing to tone himself down when dealing directly with the elf, all this talking was driving him crazy. At least Mac wasn't fighting him over the clothes, because that would have triggered a very decisive and violent reaction that might well drive the elf off for good. It also bothered him to hear Mac say he didn't like causing his lover pain. Just because he knew the Guardian had issues didn't mean he liked to be reminded of it so blatantly. Of course, when the Guardian told the elf to speak to him directly, Uldren paused, turning his attention back to the cute but hesitant elf, hands caught in Mac's open shirt.

Ilormael just didn't understand. How could Mac be so nice and seem so trustworthy, but say that he welcomed being hurt by the Prince? How was that any kind of love? It wasn't as though most of his people's pairings ever included love, since it was duty that dictated who ended up with whom, but there was usually at least tolerance. If one was lucky, there was at least friendship, or even faint affection, but almost never love. And certainly not of the kind that Mac seemed to be talking about.

He shivered and inched just a tiny bit closer to their side of the fire, equally balanced between fear and need, and tried to ignore the fact that the Prince was trying to strip his lover to the skin rather roughly. Again, Mac made no real effort to protest his treatment; in fact, it was painfully obvious the man enjoyed being used rather like a life-sized doll. Before meeting these two, Ilormael had never even remotely thought of such a forbidden thing, but now that he was confronted with it, he couldn't help wondering if it would feel as good to him to be used that way. Maybe not so hurtfully, but a little roughness . . . Was it just the power the two men had? The fact that they were both so much stronger than he and could literally do whatever they wanted with him was the main reason he still hesitated. Words were not actions, and what was to say that they'd treat him kindly once they had hands on him?

Still, his body at least had made a decision, and it wouldn't be long before it was obvious to his fireside companions. Ilormael chewed his lip as he tried to work up the courage to speak, then his eyes went wide at Mac's suggestion he speak directly to the Prince. His jaw fell open a little as his eyes flew to the face of that intimidating fellow, meeting eyes that actually glowed back at him. He gulped and stared into those golden eyes, an unexpected wave of lust crashing through him and making him tremble. If he didn't know better, he'd think the man had the power to induce that reaction in people!

"D-Don't hurt me!" The words were startled out of him by the intolerable situation and Ilormael flushed painfully, but he continued to meet the Prince's eyes, "I would . . . I would like . . ." He swallowed audibly and closed his eyes, speaking quickly, "I would like to come closer! If . . . If I may?" Ilormael opened his eyes, giving Mac a pleading look, "Perhaps not your threatening master, but maybe we two . . ."

All the undressing was so normal to Mac that he didn't realize it was happening until Ilormael's roaming eyes made him aware and self-conscious. He'd tried tugging his robes closed again but Uldren's hands were too clever, yanking and sliding and generally making it pretty impossible to worm away. Not that he cared all that much; between the two of them and the fire he was warm enough and dry enough t tolerate being stripped bare, if Uldren wished it.

However, Mac was started out of his internal debates, struck by the elf's outburst and admittance. Green eyes widened before flicking over his shoulder at the prince, smiling warmly and shrugging.

"He's scared of you," Mac remarked needlessly, chuckling softly even as he blushed a bit, baffled that someone would suggest him as a preference over the Prince. Pretty bold, he thought, and maybe not the most quality decision, but Mac failed to see much value in himself when compared to the company he kept.

"He's asking about he and I. That's up to you, my prince," the Guardian purred, smiling lazily, entirely content now that the elf was in good company and a fine mood and Uldren was fit to get his. Things were turning out better than expected. "I accept any decision you make." And he fully intended to. He expected Uldren to make whatever decision was best and most rewarding for all involved, still able to be diplomatic, even if he wasn't as good at it as his sister. Mac was willing to do just about anything at that point and there was little doubt left for Uldren, who by then knew the Guardian well enough to know when he'd flipped the switch entirely.

Of course he knew what Mac and the elf had been saying and he almost gave himself away. Uldren had his mouth open to snap that he knew the kid was scared of him, but he caught himself just in time. He gave a slight jerk of his head, annoyance still foremost in his mind, but then Mac gave him that look. The frustration melted from his expression as the Guardian smiled and purred at him. He smirked slowly and kissed the man, mouth hungry and demanding as his hands started to tug at Mac's clothes again. For a few moments he forgot about their audience entirely, lost in the pleasure of devouring his lover's mouth with a silent promise to do the same to the rest of him.

When he finally lifted his head, Uldren glanced at the elf, who'd come just a little closer while he and Mac were distracted. The boy froze again when their eyes met, but the mixture of fear and lust in the elf's eyes was more than he could ignore. He sighed and nudged Mac a little, flashing the elf a crooked smile.

"Mac, stop thinking about your dick for a minute and bring the elf over. Look at his eyes. He can't make the last step himself and you're right, I scare him. Reach for him Mac, he needs a hand."

"I wasn't thinking about my dick," Mac protested idly, grinning in that infuriatingly cocky way he sometimes had. when he understood what Uldren intended his pink tongue brushed over his lips, green eyes sliding towards Ilormael, who hovered at the edge of their space, conflicted. As much by his own self-interest as Uldren's order, Mac reached out, hand upturned and fingers slightly curled inward.

"Come on. No one should waste an opportunity they may regret wasting," he reasoned, the elf's chest rising and falling rapidly as his hands shook, eyes widening. Ilormael looked like a man trying to ramp himself up before leaping off a cliff. Mac knew personally what that felt like, literally and figuratively, and reached out to cup his hand over one of the elf's. He didn't say anything, just looked and waited, ignoring Uldren for the moment, intent on proving to Ilormael that he wouldn't be ignored in favor of Mac and Uldren's preexisting connection. The elf responded in kind with wary movements, scooting slightly closer until Mac was able to raised his hand and cup to elf's face. He didn't glance back at Uldren, needing the elf to recognize that it wasn't all just a show for the Prince. It was for all of them, equally, if they were taking hose leaps together.

Powder blue lips met the golden-tanned mouth of the elf and for a moment it was stillness, neither one breathing out of fear of one thing or another, their reasons different but the result the same. Ilormael stopped squeezing his eyes closed after a moment, opening them with a confused expression, unsure what was happening, only to find the reason that Mac had stilled was that he was simply waiting for the elf to stop panicking. Their eyes met, briefly, Mac smiled into the kiss and then closed his own eyes, moving his mouth far more sensually against Ilormael's until the elf stopped trembling and attempted to return the kiss.

They stayed like that for a long time, Mac held by Uldren, clothes falling away while the Guardian helped ease the elf closer through the touch of their mouths. Before long Ilormael had crept in and closed the distance without even realizing it, his leatherclad and lightly armored body pressed chest to chest with Mac's, lured closest once Mac started gently running his fingers through the hair at the elf's nape. It was, perhaps, the first time Uldren was able to see what sort of person Mac might have been, had the Prince's tastes run somewhat less aggressive. The Guardian was a naturally gentler and more sensual individual. Good bait, certainly, for the sorts of traps Uldren liked to lay. At the least he was infinitely better at easing a person into something than the Prince was.

He'd known that once he put the idea in Mac's head, it was only a matter of time before the man actually wanted to sleep with the elf. At first it had been mostly a joke, but as time wore on, it had appealed to him more and more. It wasn't as if he had access to innocents on a daily basis, because while Mac might be very naive at times he was never really innocent in most senses, and the elf was rather attractive, if younger than he would usually consider sleeping with. Although he was guilty of a great many crimes against humanity and was truly a monster, he had never raped children and didn't intend to start. But the elf wasn't really a child in anything but years and they could both see that. And Ilormael wanted what they were offering. He might not understand just what he was going to get, but he definitely wanted it, which made a great deal of difference.

Uldren was careful to keep all of his movements slow and non-threatening as Mac coaxed the elf closer, undoing the Guardian's clothes with practiced ease and exposing that very attractive body, but he never once took his eyes off the elf. This time, however, his own weren't in the least threatening, and he was careful to keep a slight smile of his face. And it wasn't the wolf's hungry grin he'd worn earlier; no, it was something much more gentle, if touched by self-mockery. He knew better than anyone that the only people in the universe who would ever look at him with anything but fear were Mac and Mara. It was a shame sometimes, like now, but it was the life he'd chosen and he wouldn't change a thing.

The show itself, once the elf finally came within reach, was more than enough to heat his blood enough so that he could finally forget the cold. Watching Mac seduce someone was a unique pleasure he'd never really thought about experiencing before, though now that he had, they'd have to replicate it. Often. In varied circumstances and with multiple partners. There was something so deliciously wrong about baiting an outsider with Mac's genuine care and then springing him on them after they were in too deep to escape. He wouldn't hurt them of course, that was for Mac alone unless the situation was extraordinary, but he would certainly have his turn eventually and even on his best days, he was never anything less than rough.

Still, those thoughts were for a future that was anything but sure and Uldren turned his attention back to the present, switching his hold on the Guardian to allow the elf to press in close. He trailed his fingers up and down Mac's sides as the two kissed, brushing against the elf now and then as if accidentally, trying to help accustom Ilormael to being touched and to feeling more relaxed. It was amazing the patience that Mac was displaying in luring the boy in. Certainly Uldren had patience for his own games, but he never could have seduced someone like his lover was, it just wasn't in him to be that gentle and restrained. Sitting behind Mac and just watching was barely within his abilities, and his control was quckly running out as his body demanded access to one or both of them. It was heady stuff, watching someone who was completely his essentially "cheat" with someone he also lusted after, but it was still enjoyable for all the frustration it caused.

Ilormael forgot everything when he finally managed to close his eyes and relax against Mac, everything except for the way his body was reacting to those gentle hands and that warm mouth. He didn't really know what to do, or where to put his own hands, but eventually he settled for laying them lightly on Mac's shoulders. It seemed like the best place, since the Prince's hands were moving over the man just about everywhere else. He was grateful for the warmth of Mac's body through his clothes and armor, although he wondered what it would feel like to be pressed skin-to-skin, since the Prince had so considerately opened the man's shirt to expose Mac's chest. He wasn't that comfortable though, not with the Prince still there behind his gentle teacher.

Every time he thought of the other man, the elf tensed for a few moments, despite the distraction that Mac's tongue was providing him. He'd never known you put your tongue into someone's mouth to kiss, but after the initial shock it felt good, and Mac was sweet about showing him what to do with his own actions. As long as he could forget about the Prince he'd be fine, but every now and then a hand that definitely didn't belong to Mac touched him, and it brought his nerves right back to the forefront of his mind. Of course, the hands weren't mean, and what he could feel through his gear was actually rather pleasant, but it scared him to think of being at the mercy of that predator. Surely Mac knew that and would keep the Prince away from him, wouldn't he? The man wouldn't throw Ilormael to the Prince once he was so worked up he couldn't protest . . . would he?

Remembering the worshipful way Mac had looked at the Prince, and the man's own words about their deviant relationship, he really wasn't sure that Mac would protect him if the Prince asked for a turn. That thought made him shudder and moan and press closer to Mac, too deep in their web to escape, but still too scared to fully give himself up to the possible pleasure. Ilormael's hands clenched on Mac's bare shoulders, sharp nails digging into the warm skin as he prayed fervently that he'd survive this foolish indulgence and live to see the dawn. Why had he ever come back to their fire? Was it really worth the consequences to warm himself, even temporarily, at their fucked-up hearth?

Were the Guardian a mind-reader he might have had more misgivings about the whole thing. He wasn't completely without his honor and goodness, and if he really believed the elf were against something, Mac would have stood up to Uldren in a heart beat. Love and lust weren't good enough reasons to succumb to absolute darkness. Fortunately for them all, Uldren had more Light in him than he was ready to admit; Mac was pretty positive even the prince would stop himself before truly harming someone that didn't want it. At the end of the day, Mac trusted Uldren.

All those concerns aside, Mac was enjoying himself more than he'd expected! It was a world of difference, playing the submissive, willing participant to the Crow's needs and being the seducer in a more archaic setting. He'd never imagined himself being the one to draw someone to himself in such a way, and he had to account it to Uldren's teachings, really. Mac knew his own inexperience would have made it all a lot more difficult, but the prince's efforts had made him infinitely more confident. At least enough to make the occasional first move, and it paid off.

For his own part, Ilormael was comforted by everything Mac did. Cool fingers touching his face, his throat, warm hands cupping his cheeks and Mac's tongue gently caressing and probing. The Awoken never pushed too much, never tugged or yanked. He coaxed, certainly, but the elf didn't mind being guided closer to the other man, and when he finally fell against Mac's chest, he regretted coming fully dressed. Still, when was a good time to broach the subject of clothing? Was it rude? Should he not be wearing anything? Was that too much too fast? Occasional wary glances at Uldren complicated things. unlike Mac, Ilormael didn't know the first thing about the prince, and trusting him was...difficult. It wasn't until Mac caught one of those glances that the guardian really understood, and he did the only thing he could think to.

"Don't worry," he gasped against the elf's lips after breaking a long, breath-stealing kiss. "We're not going to make you do anything you don't want. I promise. But you have to speak up. You have to tell us..." he murmured in Dalish before turning his head a bit and narrowing his yes at Uldren, expression pure sex at that point.

"I'll do anything you both want," he told the Prince, breath coming in long, hot whispers. A hand reached out, cupping behind Uldren's neck before gripping the hair painfully tight at the base of the man's skull.

"We brought him into this," Mac warned, green eyes hazy with want as he leaned back against Uldren even as he let Ilormael rest against him. "But until he knows what he wants done to him, just use me as an example. If you get jealous, just punish me for it later," the Guardian grinned, craning his neck to run his tongue over Uldren's lips.

"You're the Prince, Uldren. We're the actors, but you need to direct the show. Participate if you like, just don't be a tyrant until he's deep enough that he doesn't want to go back. I can take it. One or two, doesn't matter. There isn't a challenge I can't meet, as long as you're there," he rumbled, letting the prince go and reaching up with both hands to caress Ilormael's jawline before tracing his fingertips up those long ears. He was so gentle, to light, treating them like any other potentially erogenous zone, seeking to arouse and comfort the elf before carefully giving little experimental tugs to the scout's clothes, clearly asking him to either undress himself or let himself be undressed.

Mac was absolutely determined to see them all satisfied, come hell or high water.

Uldren growled and shuddered against Mac when the man tugged on his hair, fingers digging into the man's hips hard enough to leave bruises, if Mac had been able to bruise. He moaned loudly as the Guardian teased his lips with that warm tongue, barely aware that Mac was actually speaking to him, let alone that it was important. He snapped at the man when Mac let go of him again, snarling out his words without realizing it would probably terrify the poor elf.

"Mac! When we're not fucking freezing, your ass is gonna be so damn ruined! You're gonna be chained for a week and I swear to god I'm gonna see if taking a chunk of flesh out of you heals up without a damn scar. I'll use you so fucking much you'll be weeks recovering!"

Ilormael jumped when the Prince growled and then started snarling at Mac, but he was actually too scared to try and run. That and he was so hard he wasn't sure he could run. He'd never been so aroused before, and even though the Prince was scary as hell, Mac wasn't. He bit his lip as as they spoke to each other in their own language, eyes flitting from one to the other, though mostly he watched the Prince. He was the really dangerous one. But then Mac touched his ears.

The elf shivered and moaned, eyes closing against his will as he rocked on the man's lap, clinging to Mac as those hands teased his ears. Ilormael didn't even notice the pulling at his clothes at first, but eventually it penetrated. It was a real effort to open his eyes and give Mac a hazy, pleading look. He didn't know what to ask for, or how to say what he wanted, because he didn't really know what he wanted.

"I . . . please? Touch . . . my ears? Please?"

Edited 2016-01-23 08:10 (UTC)

"Oh-ho! Listen at him! Promises promises, my dear Prince!" Mac laughed, barely wincing when the man dug fingers into his skin. Certainly the Guardian could bruise, though only just for a few moments when it happened, and even then, that required far more dire an injury than the grip of a lover.

When Ilormael moaned and squirmed, Mac knew he'd won. The game was hardly played, but he'd already put the elf's Queen in check, and he knew Uldren would catch it, too. Once you found someone someone liked, it was all too easy to use it against them. Not that they didn't all recognize that as their collective goal, once they had decided to invite the elf into their figurative bed.

"Of course," Mac replied graciously. "Anything you want is yours, you know? This isn't about us taking anything. We're all one another's guests in this instance. Generous hosts aiming to be friends. Ask anything and you should have it," he sighed, leaning against Uldren even as he stroked the youth's ears with gentle fingertips.

"His ears," he reported to Uldren, glancing over his shoulder at the other Awoken. "That's the ticket right there. A little finesse...he moves like a serpent."

He merely growled against Mac's nape, trying to keep his face hidden behind the Guardian. Uldren had seen the fear on the boy's face and it hurt him. It was one thing to be feared by his and the Queen's enemies, but seeing that same fear on such a young face, a face that Mac had been kissing . . . It hurt. He wasn't a damn monster after all! Well, actually he was, but he was just as attractive as Mac!

Actually . . . he really wasn't. He was attractive, handsome even, but he hadn't been doing a good job of showing that off to the elf. He was snarling and growling and being violent, not to mention he was the one who'd caught the poor kid to start with. And even though Ghost was translating, it wasn't really the same thing at all to what Mac was doing. Mac was speaking to the elf, in his own language, and seducing the kid with surprising ease. He was . . . jealous. He was definitely jealous, but he was also strangely lonely. He wanted to join in more, but all he did was scare the elf. There was only so much he could do to Mac without just shoving the kid away after all!

Uldren sighed and nipped Mac's spine, his hands sliding up and down the man's sides, "Get him off Mac. Show him how good it feels. All I do is scare him." He dragged his tongue over warm skin, fingers clenching on Mac's hips again as he rubbed against the man's ass. He wasn't made of stone and holding back was killing him, but he'd done this for Mac, in a fucked-up way. He'd like to be a more active participant, but what the hell could he do? Every move he made toward the elf was met with fear! It would just be better for Mac to do everything with the kid.

Ilormael heard the soft words that the Prince spoke, but they still made no sense. That was part of his fear, not knowing what was being said. Was the man instructing Mac to kill him or kiss him? As weird as their relationship seemed to be, he didn't feel all that confident Mac would stand up for him if it really came down to it. His glowing-eyed potential lover was in the Prince's thrall, and if the Prince decided he'd be a good sacrifice . . . Well, he wasn't stupid enough to think that he'd be more important than what the Prince wanted. And yet, he found himself moaning again as Mac's clever fingers played with his ears. He clung to the man breathing hard, feeling as if he was on fire. How much better would it be if Mac's hands moved lower?

"You wouldn't frighten him so much if you weren't always looking around with resting bitchface or growling and sneering," Mac chuckled, reaching back and cupping a hand against Uldren's cheek to draw him in for a gentler, kinder kiss than their usual.

"You're a scary guy, you know? Just ease him into it," the Guardian shrugged, reaching out the other direction and tugging Ilormael closer to whisper to the boy.

"He's upset that he frightened you," he whispered against the elf's ear before tracing the shell with his tongue, breath hot and damp. "He told me to get you off. You know what that means?" he asked, arching a purple brow and smirking faintly as one hand slid down the boy's chest and belly, tickling a gentle path.

"Is that what you want? You can have literally anything right now, however it would please you. He's holding back, you know. Keeping his distance so you don't get upset. He's actually quite marvelous when he isn't grumbling and complaining. He's the best Prince his people could ask for, believe it or not. He just happens to be my lover. Our lover, if you wished it. Tonight is for secret liaisons, Ilormael. You have a Prince's permission to do anything you can imagine. Are you really going to pass up a royal opportunity?" Mac rasped, tracing fingertips along the growing bulge of the elf's cock, shameless in the face of his lover's commands. Shy though Mac was by nature, he could go from zero to sixty at a mere hint of Uldren's desire. Well-trained, really.

Uldren took the kiss, allowing it to be gentle for once. He was capable of a softer side, but it was so hard to remember sometimes, especially when he was so worked up. He had to be a monster in most of his life, and it was hard to remember he was more than that, that he had greater depths to himself. Mac was always so happy to be abused, he didn't need to try very hard to be nice, but the elf . . .

"I don't know how to ease into things Mac. I just march up and take whatever I want, you know that. And I can't talk to him . . ."

He sighed and buried his face against Mac's nape as the foreign language lilted between the two, listening to the translation Ghost provided. He longed to be able to speak with both of them at the same time, and to understand what they said in return, but he wasn't a Guardian. And he was still a monster . . .

The look Ilormael gave Mac was, to the say the least, skeptical. True, at that particular moment the men had shared a much more gentle kiss, one he was actually pretty jealous of, and the Prince hadn't yelled and growled but spoken softly, but still. What was to say that would continue? Mac he could trust to a limited extent, but the Prince? He shivered and clung closer to Mac as the man spoke and teased him, confusing him more than anything else. How could one man be so gentle and kind, while the other was so . . .

The elf gasped and shook with reaction as Mac's hand caressed him, making a sound suspiciously like a whine in response to the question he was asked. He might never have heard it put quite that way, but it was obvious what it meant. But how could he think when Mac was touching him that way? It was so damned unfair!

Ilormael tried to concentrate on what the man was saying, since it sounded important, but it was so hard to ignore that teasing hand and the warm mouth on his ear. He was so hard it hurt, but he couldn't seem to finish on his own. He needed someone else to touch him, he needed Mac!

"I . . . I can't . . . think! It hurts! Mac I . . . I . . ."

He wanted everything and he wanted nothing. He couldn't keep a thought long enough to understand what he really wanted! If only he could have a moment alone, to think! He didn't understand! It was all too much too fast!

"Fine then. Like this," Mac grunted, pushing and pulling and writhing about until he'd fought them both off enough to push Uldren away, then push Ilormael between them. He tucked the elf forward enough that he could touch knees with the Prince. Grabbing the other Awoken's hand, he tugged, pressing it down against the boy-elf's thigh and sliding it up slowly, all while elaning over Ilormael's shoulder to nibble at his ear and whisper.

"You're so scared of him, but he doesn't mean you any harm. He brought you here in the first place because I was so excited to see elves. He's rough, but he's a good man. And I'm going to prove that he's much more interested in you and your well-being than you think."

Green eyes flicked up, glowing bright in the shadows of the shelter, the fire making Mac's usually cool blue skin a warm orange hue. He watched Uldren meaningfully, full lips curving into a slow smile of challenge.

"Suck him off," he said, gesturing lightly with the hand that wasn't guiding Uldren's own palm to the elf's stiff member.

"You want to prove you're not a boogeyman and loosen him up, then go down on him. You and I both know you like it, and you're good at it. You taught me, after all," the Warlock pointed out, smirking at his Prince with a positively devilish expression. why not turn the tables around a bit? After all, if everyone got theirs in the end, it was an evening well spent. That, and the more Mac thought about Uldren snarling around Ilormael's cock while the elf squealed or moaned or whatever he was bound to do, the more the Warlock needed to see it.

Maybe Uldren was having a bad influence on him. Maybe it was a good one? All about perspective, really.

Being pushed away was absolutely not in the game plan! Uldren snarled and started to grab at the man, something nasty on his tongue to say, then his eyes went wide. Mac had turned himself and the elf around to face him! He stared at the Guardian, then the elf, then the Guardian again, mouth opening and closing with no sound coming out. Then he realized his hand was touching the elf and his eyes zeroed in on Mac's hand holding his in place. His mouth watered and a shiver he didn't try to hide ran through him. It wasn't so much touching someone else that excited him as having Mac try to include him for real in the fantasy he'd put into motion. He really hadn't wanted to do that. What they were doing had been for Mac!

The whispering nearly did him in, even in another language. Mac really didn't ever take the lead, which was usually the way they both preferred it, and having the Guardian do it now was just . . . Uldren bit his lip, eyes squeezed shut as he fought for control. If he lost it now they'd all end up injured, though the elf would get the worst of it, and Mac might never be able to forgive him. When Mac spoke to him, his eyes popped back open and he stared at the man, actually holding his breath in shock.

"Mac!?"

Uldren sounded almost prim, completely shocked, and perhaps even a tiny bit worried. He wasn't exactly gentle, as a rule, and while he wasn't usually cruel giving a blowjob, Mac was a hell of a lot sturdier than the tiny elf they currently had trapped between them. What if he hurt the child? It wasn't safe to let him touch the elf! Although he was currently giving the kid a handjob . . .

Ilormael squawked when Mac moved him, fear making his arousal even more sharp and piercing. What the hell was happening now!? And then suddenly he was staring right at the Prince. The elf stared up and up and shrank back against Mac, one of his hands groping for the man's to cling to, but instead, Mac was moving the Prince's hand on him. He made a strangled sound of fear and need, arching into the touch even as he tried to stay away from the terrifying man.

He watched through slitted eyes as the two men talked, and carried on even more silent communication as their joined hands touched him. Ilormael was panting and squirming and desperate for relief, even if it came from the scary Prince, if only they'd let him finish so he could think again! His hands grabbed weakly at Mac's wrist, the one that was already holding the Prince's wrist, making another connection between the three of them. He looked up with desperate eyes, not caring who answered his plea anymore.

"Please!?"

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Dragon Age - OTA

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