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

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?

"Well, it's a sight better than most Shemlen...but you aren't Shemlen," the elf observed, shivering on his side of the fire, careful to keep a safe distance. Mac didn't press him to draw closer at that moment, focusing instead on pressing the line of his body nearer to Uldren, warming his companion without even thinking about it. It was reflexive to be close to the man by that point, and he didn't see anything unnatural in what the Prince has made very clear was acceptable and right, and damned anyone who said different. Mac wasn't precisely easy to brainwash, but he took the words of those he cred about very seriously. It showed, and the elf noticed, but had no reason to comment. His own people didn't really have the luxury of being close-minded those days.

"I don't even know what a Shemlen is," Mac replied, looking at Uldren with a small frown. "Do you know what a Shemlen is?" the Guardian asked in their shared tongue, shaking his head slowly before looking back at Ilormael.

"Sheml--humans. You know humans?" the elf asked, nodding when Mac made and affirmative sound. "So what are you? Hornless Qunari? You look like..." the boy trailed off, frowning slowly.

"Like what?" Mac asked, adding wood to the fire for the sake of his lover and his guest.

"Demons. Desire Demons. I've seen them before. Your colors, I've never seen on Qunari, but they're on Desire Demons," Ilormael answered warily, frowning with Mac burst out laughing and turned to Uldren.

"Uldren. H-he thinks we're "Desire Demons" or something. Can you imagine? What sort of place is it where guys like us pass for something that sounds like that? Oh man," he kept laughing before reaching up and rubbing his eyes with a sigh.

"You find us desirable, then?" the Guardian quipped, grinning and wagging a brow at the elf, who scowled back.

"That's precisely the sort of thing they would say!"

"Well, I wouldn't know. I'm not a demon. Neither is he," Mac remarked, thumbing over at Uldren, "But he sure has enough attitude for it. We're...hm. How do I explain. We're Awoken. That's just what we're called. We aren't from this land at all. We lost our ship while traveling and now we're lost in this land that is completely unfamiliar to us. We don't even know what it's called."

"How do you speak my language then? Eh? Are you spies? Hm!?"

"Um...no. I'm a warlock and he--"

"What's that?"

"Warlock? Like um...a...wizard, maybe?"

"Mage!?"

"Yes, is that bad?" Mac asked, casting an unsure look at Uldren before focusing on the elf again.

"It depends on where you are and who you ask. My people keep their magic close, but most mages are either in Circles, under lock and key, or apostates."

"And that is...?"

"Illegal mages, essentially. You really aren't from here, are you..."

"As I said, we're very lost, and apparently in trouble just for existing," Mac muttered, turning to explain to Uldren that warlocks, or mages as they were called there, weren't allowed to just go around about their business.

"They don't police mages where you're from? Are you from Tevinter?" Ilormael asked, obviously easing up on his anger over everything, curious about the strangers.

"No. We're from The Reef, originally," Mac replied, finding no reason to lie, since his story was no less true one way or the other. It wasn't as if the boy would know anything about anywhere he spoke of.

"Where is that?" the elf asked, and Mac frowned, looking around curiously.

"From here? I have no idea. But considering how far we traveled? A long, long, loooong ways away."

"You still haven't explained why you speak my language," Ilormael reminded Mac, who shrugged and gestured vaguely.

"I have magic. I can do all manner of things with it. Listening and learning isn't difficult." Not entirely the truth, but not really a lie, either. The elf frowned a bit before shrugging it off. He didn't understand magic, personally, so trying now would be pointless.

"Why did you both come here?"

"Accident, actually. There was a hole in the sky and we fell through. I don't really understand it mysel--what?" Mac paused, looking at the elf, who looked suddenly very understanding and sympathetic.

"You fell into a Rift! They must happen everywhere, then!" the boy gasped, leaning forward with marked interest. "You could be clear across the world from your home! Rifts are so unpredictable...I'm terribly sorry this has happened to you both. Especially with everything going on in Thedas. There's wars brewing all over, you know? It really isn't safe for anyone."

Mac blinked several times, trying to process everything. Ghost had a few suggestions as well and Mac finally turned to Uldren, speaking in their own language again.

"I've got an answer and an in. Apparently in this world they have Rifts. Magical tears, I assume. but people can enter them and come out somewhere else, if the elf is right. So there you go. If anyone questions us, we're a Prince and his guardian, we fell through a rift and here we are. Work's pretty seamlessly, I think. We don't even have to lie, which will make us all the more convincing if it ever comes up."

"So you two are..."

Mac turned back, smiling brightly, back to being excited about everything because NOW, everything wasn't half so bad!

"Mac Jouney, at your service. This is his majesty, Prince of the Awoken, Uldren Sov," Mac replied, bowing his head slightly and gesturing to Uldren with the introduction.

"A Prince?"

"Yeah I know. Hard to believe. He's very grumpy and likes to do everything himself. Being in service to him is a nightmare, I promise," Mac added cheerfully.

"Service. Hm. Are you a knight then, or..."

"Or?"

"His...hm...uh..." How did one ask nicely if someone were a lover? Fortunately Mac wasn't all that much an idiot and caught on, coughing softly.

"Oh! Oh. Well, I'm his knight and guardian, and it's complicated. I suppose that's the best as I can say it. He's really quite marvelous under all the brooding."

The elf laughed, finding Mac's good-nature to be charming and relaxing in light of Uldren's doom and gloom. Much less troublesome for all involved, really, and the boy unconsciously shifted closer to the warmth of both the fire and the people.

"Sorry about all the mess from before," Mac added, offering an apologetic look. "He's really on edge about everything."

"Ah. I'm sorry as well," Ilormael replied, blushing faintly as he recalled delivering a few cruel kicks. "Would you tell him I apologize?"

Mac nodded, turning to Uldren again and smiling hopefully. "He said he's sorry. I don't know for what, but that's between you guys."

Listening to the two talk was oddly pleasant. The language really was beautiful, and between the storm and having Mac snuggle up closer, Uldren slowly relaxed. His eyes went half-lidded and glowed softly as he finally started to feel warm and at least a little safe. No one was likely to be out in a storm this powerful, and he knew for a fact any traces of his trail were being washed away completely, which made his lips curl just the tiniest bit. He nodded now and then as Mac gave him updates on what was actually being said, but he wasn't listening very closely, at least not until Mac started laughing.

He roused a little, his faint smile sliding right off his face. A desire demon? What the hell was that? It sounded like a god damned whore! He wasn't a whore, he was a god damned prince! And while Mac was a great many things, a slut wasn't one of them, at least not outside their current relationship. Uldren was no longer in a warm and happy haze; unfortunately, he was glaring at both the elf and Mac again. And he'd been feeling so good a moment ago!

Uldren didn't answer any of the man's explanations with words, just grunts or growls, and the sound of the conversation was no longer soothing, especially when Mac started to look upset. His eyes flicked from one to the other and back again as the discussion seemed to get more intense. Waiting for a translation was a serious pain in the ass and he wondered if Ghost could teach him the language. It would be a hell of a lot easier to know what was going on if he could at least understand what was being said without getting it filtered through Mac. Of course, it didn't take a word-for-word translation to figure out the moment the elf asked just what he and Mac were to each other.

He sat up as the two discussed what was, or wasn't, between them, eyes narrowed and glowing brightly, the flames of the fire reflecting in them and doubling the intensity. What he and the Guardian did or didn't do was their business, and he damn sure wasn't going to be judged by a child too stupid to put up a decent perimeter guard! He growled, especially when the elf started to laugh, because until Mac translated, it certainly didn't look good. Uldren bristled when the man smiled at him, but he gave the elf a slight jerk of the head, lessening his glare a trifle. He did slide an arm around Mac's waist and pull the man a little closer though, in a very obvious and possessive way. If the kid had prejudices, he was just going to have to get over them or get wet. In fact, Uldren was tempted to fuck Mac right then and there as an abject lesson, and only the nasty weather stopped him.

"He caught me a few hits earlier and they still hurt. I've never actually tried to kidnap someone I needed to keep in good shape before. But tell him I don't like being laughed at, or feeling like I'm getting laughed at. And have Ghost teach me that damn language, getting everything filtered through you isn't working."

"Alright alright, sheesh. Calm down," Mac sighed, frowning slightly before raking a hand through his hair and running his hands down his face. Uldren was a superior combatant to have at your back. He was a demanding and fulfilling lover. He was a lot of things, but one thing he definitely was not was sociable and skilled with people. Mac shook his head and rolled his eyes, puffing another sigh as he tried to figure out precisely how to handle everything; he wasn't that great with people either, but for awkwardness instead of meanness.

"He's not laughing at you. He's laughing about something I said. I'm trying to smooth things over and you're complicating it by being so surly. If we're going to survive in this place while trying to find a way home, we're gonna have to be more likable on the whole or someone is gonna toss us into a dungeon or something. And yeah, Ghost will teach you the language, right?"

The construct made a subtle, wordless sound of agreement that Uldren could hear but that the elf wouldn't note. Until Mac told him to come out, it was best that people didn't see him. Meanwhile, Mac had to figure out what to do about the elf situation. Particularly with Uldren being so blatantly possessive, which complicated matter just on the merit of being a turn-on in itself.

"Uh...sorry, he gets...uh. Jealous..." Mac murmured, pursing his lips and glancing between Uldren and Ilormael. The boy just smiled and shrugged.

"Are things like this not okay here?" the Guardian asked, the fingers of one hand absently resting over Uldren's. Ilormael considered for a moment before shrugging and shaking his head.

"It depends where you are. You're not far from Orlais, right now, and in Orlais just about anything is acceptable. They're not even that discreet, I hear, though I've never been there myself. Dalish like myself keep to the forests and rarely venture further than the edge of the wood. The forests are our land, the cities belong to the Shemlen," he muttered with a hint of bitterness. Mac wanted to ask more questions about everything, but figured he should leave it for if Uldren ever actually slept, so it wouldn't bother the Crow and he wouldn't need translation.

"So for he and I to be--"

"Lovers?"

"--ah, yes. For us to be intimate companions, that wouldn't cause problems?"

"Well, I can't speak for everyone, everywhere, but among the Dalish no one would make it their business. I'm sure there will always be someone who disagrees with it, but I suppose on the merit of being foreigners, no one is really entitled to an opinion on a culture they don't know about."

"That's very open-minded for someone who just kicked the crap out of a Prince!" Mac laughed and Ilomael blushed, coughing into a fist and looking away.

"I didn't know he was a Prince and anyways, he attacked me! It was self-defense."

"Of course, of course. No harm done to anything but pride, I imagine. I'll find out later, I'm sure," Mac replied, grinning cockily and making the elf blush even more. No surprise since the implication meant Mac would have to inspect an undressed Prince to see where any injuries might be.

"Mm. Thank you for releasing me and sharing your camp," the elf added, glancing around thoughtfully. "You don't have any meat?" he asked, looking up between the two men. Mac shrugged and shook his head.

"We're from the city, not exactly survivalists, and we lost all of our weapons and gear."

"Ah! Then as thanks, I can do that much. I will return momentarily--"

"But the storm!" Mac protested, the elf shaking his head with a smile.

"Any Dalish worth his weight can track in a storm. I won't be a moment," Ilormael insisted, darting off into the weather. Mac turned back to Uldren, shrugging slightly and shaking his head.

"I don't know where he's going in this weather, but he said he'd be back. And I don't believe with reinforcements. He seemed concerned that we didn't have any meat to eat, so...I guess we'll have more than berries for dinner?" the Guardian smiled hopefully, turning in Uldren's grip to reach around and tug the man's clock off, tossing it over a rock to dry.

"You're soaked to the bone, Uldren. It's not going to kill you to strip down to just your shirt and pants. Let everything else dry by the fire while he's gone. Hell, he might not even come back, but the cold isn't going to help the bruises, y'know."

If he'd cared to exert himself, Uldren could have been quite charming, but he saw no point in that most of the time. It was much faster and took less effort to just strong-arm what he wanted from people. Whether it was with physical force or the blade of his tongue, the prince generally got what he wanted, so why bother with all the dancing and verbal fencing if he didn't have to?

"If it wasn't for your unhealthy need to see these backwoods elves in the first place, we could have trekked a lot farther than we did and remained unmolested. I'm sure if you asked the elf whether they gave a shit about us as long as we were headed away from them, he'd say they'd have watched us until we left their territory and then forgotten all about us. And I wouldn't have bruises in private places either. Do your talking and get it out of your system so we can go to sleep."

Uldren listened to Mac and the elf talk again, leaning against the man. Yes, he was jealous, and possessive, and brutal at times too, but Mac was his. He didn't plan to share his guardian with anyone, at least not anytime soon, and not actually being able to understand the full conversation was putting his back up in an extremely uncomfortable way. He could infer a great deal from his lover's tone and expressions, but he didn't really know. Of course, when the elf jumped up and left, he started to lunge after the boy, until he caught himself. There was no earthly reason to keep the elf if he didn't want to stay. He stared at Mac suspiciously when the man pulled his cloak off, already getting chilled again.

He was not meant for the great outdoors.

"I was actually just getting warm Mac . . ." Uldren clenched his muscles to avoid shivering, more from habit than anything else. The man had a point. Even wrapped up and laying near the fire wasn't going to help with the wet clothes underneath his cloak. He growled softly but didn't fight the guardian's hands as Mac started to strip off his outer clothing, in fact, he moved closer with a gleam in his eye.

"I think talking to that elf made you hard and you just want me naked. Is that it Mac? The little pointy-eared bastard got you all aroused?" Uldren's lips slowly curved into a smile as he forgot his wet clothes and the fact that he was clod. Teasing Mac was much too fun to give less than his full attention to the task, "It's the ears, isn't it? You rally do want to touch them, don't you Mac? You want to see if they're extra sensitive and whether or not he'll melt and moan when you trace them with a finger, hmm?"

As he spoke, Uldren lifted a hand to caress Mac's ear, fingers stroking the shell slowly in imitation of what he accused the man of wanting to do. He continued to smirk at Mac, inching closer as he teased. Having at least some of his wet clothing off was helping him warm up just a little, but being physically close would do him even more good, "I bet you want to see him naked too, right? That young, strong body writhing under yours while he cries out in that musical language . . . Just think about it Mac, teaching him the pleasures of two men . . ."

"What? N-No!" Mac squawked, choking on his words as he fell back against the boulders and slid partway down. There wasn't really any escaping the Crow unless he was willing to dart out into the storm, which he wasn't. There wasn't a lot of reason to get away, either, being as Mac rarely didn't want to be closer to the other man. Granted, he didn't think it was prudent, under the circumstances, but...

"You do that quite well enough on your own," the Guardian hissed, cheeks lavender for the blush creeping into them. He reached up, raking his damp hair out of his face only to stare at Uldren's deep yellow eyes, lips curving into their usual fond smile.

Uldren was a creep. He was a jerk, he was pushy and rude, demanding and mean, but he was who he was and Mac adored it, however foolishly.

"He's pretty, sure. Elves are neat and I'm just excited to see a real one, but if you think he'd distract me from you, you're just being childishly jealous. You know better. Anyways, come on, don't try to butter me up with silly fantasy," Mac trailed off, tilting his head to lean into Uldren's touches, chest rising and falling slowly as warmth pooled in his belly. Yeah...that was nice.

"If you have some kind of elf-humping fantasy, that's all well and good. I'm pretty content just looking...like at a museum. Don't touch the art n' all, y'know? Besides, what makes you think he'd even entertain the idea? You're pretty demented, but I don't think you'd force some strange kid into anything."

The blush pleased him. Making Mac blush wasn't usually very hard, but it was always a lot of fun. He chuckled softly, leaning in closer as he continued to fondle the man's ear, not sure at the moment how far he wanted to take things. It was possible the elf would come back after all.

"Do I now? I can see that I certainly make you blush easily enough, but we both know that I'm a jealous son of a bitch. I'm not fond of sharing with just anyone Mac, even if they are rather pretty and exotic. Then again, watching you with the elf might be very amusing."

Uldren's lips brushed Mac's as he spoke, teasing them both as his other hand moved to rest heavily on the man's belly. He could have gone for the crude and obvious approach, but at the moment, being an ass was just so much more fun! "Oh I see. So it would be you doing the watching, hmm? You wouldn't be jealous if I stripped him down and fucked him silly?" He didn't actually let Mac answer that, instead sealing his mouth over the man's in a searing kiss. All of his frustration and unhappiness with the situation went into the kiss, but there was a healthy amount of lust as well. When he finally came up for air, Uldren was a bit breathless, but h wasn't done yet.

"You said yourself he doesn't seem to care about us together, so why wouldn't he at least entertain the idea of being with us? And you know Mara's going to want to skin us both for getting trapped on this backwards planet, so bringing her a present might sweeten her temper." Uldren trailed his lips along Mac's jaw to the ear he was still playing with, "Just think about that Mac. Think how pretty they'd be together, and how much fun all four of us could have . . ."

"U-Uldren!" Mac stammered, shivering in spite of the warmth around him. Everything the Prince did always turned his world upside down in and instant. It was virtually impossible to think straight with the man, but aggreeing to everything blindly was entirely out of the question!

"We can't just kidnap someone! Especially not for something like that," the warlock cried out softly in protest, pressing feebly at Uldren's chest in attempt to get distance he didn't really want. "Your sister would be livid and you know it! She's as shady as you, but she's fair and a damned good Queen. She wouldn't abide you pretty much enslaving someone. At elast not unless they were inviting it," he amended, recalling some of the odd evenings the three of them had shared.

Mara didn't have any problem with slavery, and neither did her brother, when the setting was appropriate. Mac still had a few scars to prove it.

"You really think someone you just fought with and kidnapped would even consider something like that? Sharing a fire and sharing a bed aren't the same thing, you pervert," Mac grumbled, leaning in and running his tongue along Uldren's bottom lip in spite of his words.

"Forget him. He's off chasing dinner or something...we've got time, you know," the Guardian rumbled, aiming to distract the Prince as much as anything.

Uldren bit Mac's ear hard enough to draw blood, then sucked at the small wound, choosing his words with care. He'd mostly been teasing about everything he'd said of course, but there was a certain appeal to the fantasies. And it made him feel a little less alone to invoke the name of his sister. They were god knows where with only a slim chance of getting home, and his nerves had been at the breaking point most of the day. Any comfort he could get at the moment was welcome.

"I doubt we have enough time for what I'd really like to do, but you have a point. I can certainly get you off easily enough. Might as well make a lot of noise too Mac. We wouldn't want the elf to forget where we are, hmm?"

He sucked at Mac's ear again only to find that the bite had already closed. For a second he was tempted to bite the man again, but didn't. A part of his mind did relax, however, at that blatant sign that Mac's healing abilities still seemed to be working. No matter what else happened, the Guardian would survive and make it back to Mara. That was a weight off his mind that Uldren had desperately needed; leaving his sister alone and without someone she could trust completely had been his greatest fear. As long as Mac could heal, he'd live through getting back home, and he'd be there to protect his sister indefinitely.

Uldren dragged his open mouth down Mac's neck while his hand covered the man's groin. He didn't even try to play around this time. There was a certain amount of desperation in his actions, and more than a little roughness, but it was inevitable considering their situation. Uldren groped Mac shamelessly, squeezing and fondling his erection through the man's clothes. He growled against Mac's neck, scraping the warm skin with his teeth as he debated opening another wound. Both hands were on the man now, fumbling with Mac's pants as he tried to get to skin, sucking and kissing what exposed flesh he could find.

"Touch me Mac . . ."

Being loud wasn't a problem when Uldren went out of his way to hurt the Guardian. Granted, it wasn't life-threatening, but it stung like a son of a bitch, and he could only whine and squirm in response. His complaints were minimal, though. Weak protests in the wake of the Prince's insistent need. There was nothing Mac wouldn't cave to where Uldren was involved, and really, if the Prince had demanded it, Mac would have kept the elf for whatever purposes the man pleased. Mac was full of Light, like any Guardian, but there was no doubting that his association with the Prince of the Awoken cast a shadow that took him down some unusually dark paths.

Not that he was complaining. He didn't even notice the effect it was having on him, and while Light was what animated a man like Mac, a little darkness was necessary to balance a man. They were, whether they realized it or not, necessary for one another. Mac was all light and goodness at heart and in need of a little darkness and gravity to anchor him while Uldren was dark and bitter, and needed Mac's light to push his boundaries and inspire greater deeds. Together they were nigh unstoppable, and that included their passions. Granted, Uldren usually had to start the fire, but there was no denying that Mac had absolutely no problem taking a slow burn and turning it into something nuclear, when the moment permitted.

The Guardian obeyed without hesitation, only taking enough time to undo the buckles and snaps on his pants, freeing the space for Uldren to do as he pleased, whether it was as quick as getting him off or as committed as rolling him over and having him right there in the middle of the storm. At that point, Mac didn't care - all the talk of jealousy and intimacy had riled him up enough that Uldren could have stripped him naked in the middle of the woods and paraded him about shamelessly and he wouldn't have made a single protest. His own hands - still gloved, rough and warm - scraped up and down Uldren's back before drifting lower, gripping the man's ass and squeezing, kneading the curves. Lips usually too busy moving while the Guardian ran his mouth busied themselves trading kisses, sucks and bites on the other man's neck.

"Ooh my God, I need you so much right now, you don't even know," Mac gasped against the other man's skin, one hand still massaging Uldren's bottom while the other moved forward, rubbing between the man's legs, following the shape of him held beneath fabric and leather. Forget the elf...the elf was nothing.

He shuddered and made an animal sound of need when Mac started to paw at his groin, redoubling his efforts to get at the Guardian's own erection; having Mac help out with undoing his pants and hearing the man's plea didn't hurt either. As he shoved a hand into Mac's pants and finally closed his fingers around the man's throbbing dick, Uldren buried his face in Mac's shoulder to muffle the sounds he was making. Part of him wanted to rip the man's pants off and take him dry, especially since he knew the damage wouldn't last or cause his lover extended pain, but it would be so much faster to just use his hand. Not quite as satisfying though.

Choices choices . . .

He concentrated on the throb of blood through Mac's dick, which he felt against his palm and fingers, almost searingly hot against his skin. Uldren bit his lip and pressed his face more tightly into the man's shoulder, rocking his hips to encourage the man in his own actions. It was just enough to tease him really, between his own tight clothing and Mac's thick gloves, but it still felt damn good.

"Ask for it Mac. Tell me you want it. And rub harder!"

Busy with tugging at Uldren's own garments, Mac nearly ignored the words spoken, as such things were usually nonsense in the heat of the moment. Fortunately his elation over finally tugging the man's pants away enough to share in gripping a heated arousal have the Guardian a moment of clarity and he heard every growled syllable.

Were he a weaker man less accustomed to Uldren's violent passion he might have come on the spot. As it was, Mac very nearly lost it, but he tensed his fist around the prince's cock and tugged slowly, almost too tight to move and not terribly unlike it would be if the Crow were somewhere else instead of his Guardian pet's hand. Maybe not quite as tight as other places, really.

"Why ask for what you won't give me?" Mac rasped a whisper, squeezing and tugging, turning his wrist just a bit to create a slow twisting - though he was careful not to do anything too crazy.

"You want to hear me beg? Out here in the woods on some alien planet? You want me to beg for you? I beg for you every time I look at you," the warlock hissed, closing his mouth over the Prince's for a moment, pulling back from the kiss to suckle briefly at his lower lip. Satisfied, he moved his mouth again, speaking against Uldren's mouth so every word was a caress.

"I always want you, you majesty. Hmm haha...Every time I have to stand in some great hall, waiting while you talk to some irritating bureaucrat, I long for you. Always hoping you'll get fed up with the politics and just spice up the conversation by having me right there on the table in front of every appointment. You think I wouldn't want you now, out here in the woods a million lifetimes away from all of our troubles, with no one to judge us but the rain and the birds? You're mad. If I thought you really wanted anything more than dinner and sleep, I'd beg you right now to stop thinking about strangers and elves. I'm right here and I know you like what I've got."

It was probably the raunchiest dialogue the Guardian had ever given - even if it was, largely, still pretty clean - but he felt free to do so in those woods. There were no royal guards, no sisters, no duties; there was nothing in all the world to keep them from doing anything they wanted, because there was no one whose opinions either of them worried about. No word would go back to their families about what they did. So long as they were in that strange world with no means of reaching anyone else, they were freed from all obligations. Which meant Mac was equally free from a large portion of his external inhibitions.

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