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orendalogs2015-10-14 12:29 am
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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.
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.
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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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Forever.
Uldren caught Mac's mouth in a burning kiss when the man finished his little speech, internally cursing all their clothes and the lousy weather. If only it wasn't so wet and cold! He'd have Mac stripped and on his knees in the grass in a moment, but he didn't dare do something like that with the storm still raging, not to mention the fact that Mac might lose control of himself in all that pleasure and call down lightning. He still wasn't sure just how fine the Guardian's control of the weather was, and he didn't fancy getting electrified. Mac would heal easily, him, not so much! And it wasn't as though they both wouldn't enjoy just hands, it simply would have been a lot better to have full access to each other.
When he finally broke the kiss, panting against Mac's mouth, he realized just how close to a climax he was. When he thought about it, with an isolated corner of his mind that was still capable of coherency, he realized that their frantic actions were due to the potential danger and stress of their situation, and the jealousy having the elf around had caused. It didn't really have any bearing on the situation, but it made him feel a little better to pinpoint exactly what sort of influences were prodding him. Inconsequential thinking, but it made him feel a bit more stable.
"You know Mac, sometimes you really impress me." Uldren slid his tongue back into the man's mouth for a few moments as he thrust into the Guardian's tight glove again, driving himself a little closer to the edge, "It's not exactly poetry, but when you want to, your words can drive me crazy . . ."
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The warlock accepted that sex was off the table (otherwise they'd already be having it) so he redoubled his efforts, reaching up with one hand to grip a handful of Uldren's hair and tugging with the other hand even as he rolled atop the prince and ground their bodies together with a long, low moan. So they Uldren wouldn't concede to anything else? That was fine, but Mac wasn't about to leave their stolen moment unfinished.
"Hnngg, bite me. Go on, do it...hurry up, before he gets back!" Mac rasped, rolling his hips and pumping his hand between their bodies, working Uldren's cock roughly even as he hid anything they were doing from sight.
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He and his sister had spent years playing bedgames and very little had been considered out of bounds. Both of them enjoyed being dominated at times, though more often than not it had been Uldren in the more submissive role, and the unique mixture of pain and pleasure had become an addiction to the pair. Over time, they'd pushed all the boundaries they could, and the result was what the Guardian currently had to deal with. Uldren was not a lover for the faint of heart, and he usually gave twice as many bites as kisses, even on a good day. At the moment, plagued by worries and jealousy, all kindness Mac might see would be completely accidental.
Uldren thrashed and squirmed, squeezing and pumping Mac's dick in time with the hand on his own. He continued to growl, moan and bite the Guardian, though he didn't break the skin again; one good taste of blood was enough for the time being and slaked his thirst for revenge.
"Come dammit! Finish already! Now Mac!"
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He came - quick, brief - gasping for breath and squirming against the other Awoken as he pumped the man harder and faster, knowing there were penalties for not finishing what he started. He needed them both done so he could clean any mess and recover before the elf returned. If he returned. Neither man could know that the hunter had made his way back to camp shortly after leaving, taking his time on the outskirts out of sight because he wanted to see if the two men were liars. He hadn't expect the show he got at all, though he wasn't disappointed.
It certainly wasn't anything he could tell anyone back with the clan, of course. That kind of violent shared passion was extremely private and he felt guilty for even watching, let alone envying it. He had no taste for the ferocious behavior, but the desire the two strangers had for each other was inspirational. Taht said, Ilormael was grateful that they took the time they did. It gave him the freedom to take care of himself as well, silently climaxing out in the rain, hidden among the brambles.
When Mac and Uldren were finally cleaned up and put to rights, the elf sauntered up as though nothing ever happened, tossing a rabbit next to the fire and gesturing that it would be dinner.
Fair payment, he supposed, for a good show.
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Win-win.
He fell back, reaching up to hook a hand around Mac's nape to make sure the man didn't move too soon. Uldren moved his head a bit, lips curling up into a smug, amused smile as he murmured against Mac's warm ear, "Good boy Mac. Don't move much yet, I like having you just like this . . ." His mouth wandered lazily over the Guardian's cheek, jaw and temple, bestowing a combination of licks, sucks and nips.
Of course, it was still cold and wet, and as the euphoria faded, Uldren sighed and gave Mac's jaw one last kiss. He suppressed a shiver and gave the Guardian a "go ahead" gesture to clean them both up with the hand that had been on the man's nape. He sat up as soon as Mac moved and pulled the cloak tight around his shoulders, waiting only long enough for the Guardian to finish with him before he huddled next to the fire. Uldren watched Mac clean himself up with a faint, satisfied smile and slid an arm around the man's waist when Mac came to sit next to him. He sighed with content then looked up as a faint noise came in over the sound of the rain.
The elf actually came back. Huh. Uldren's eyes flicked from the elf, who looked awfully smug, to the rabbit he tossed down and back again. Meat for shelter? It seemed reasonable to him, although he had only the vaguest idea how to cook something like that. As many talents as he had, survivalist skills weren't any of them. In theory, he knew that you had to gut and skin the animal then roast it over a fire, but he'd never actually done something like that.
Instead, he focused on the elf himself, noting just how wet the kid was and how smug that smile he wore. Uldren had a shrewd idea that catching that rabbit hadn't taken the elf all that long, so what had he been doing to get so wet? His mouth slowly curled into a matching smirk as he gazed up with half-closed eyes, looking like a cat that just finished a bowl of cream.
"Mac. Ask the elf where he was all this time. It didn't take him more than five minutes to catch that rabbit, I'm sure of it. He was out there watching us. He was spying on us to see if we were what you said we were." Not that he blamed the kid for taking precautions, since he would have done the same. However,that meant . . . Uldren chuckled softly, the sound somewhere between sinister and satisfied, and gave the elf a feral smile, "The little ass watched us Mac. He watched us fuck, and I'd bet he jerked off to it too. Ask him Mac. Ask him if the show was good enough to impress him, and ask him if he thinks he could survive a session with us."
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"Uldren, it isn't the right thing to--"
"I was keeping scans of the environment the entire time. I still am, just in case wild animals or other native happen into the area. I can confirm the elf was in fact watching you both," Ghost spoke up over their comms, making it impossible for Ilormael to hear. Meanwhile the elf busied himself with gutting and skinning the hart, tossing strips of meat over stick he placed across the fire. Mostly he was just trying to look uninterested in the two Awoken.
For his own part, Mac tried to look stoic, but really only looked ill for how much he struggled not to look horribly embarrassed. Of course Mac was the infinitely more prudish of the two men, so the idea of being watched by a total stranger was more than a little hard to handle.
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That was a predator, and he didn't like the way he was being examined.
Uldren gave the man a sharp look at Ghost's information. It was one thing to make an educated guess, but quite another to have it confirmed beyond a doubt. The Prince wasn't in the habit of putting on free shows, and what he did with Mac was private. As much as he teased and sometimes even fantasized about adding in one or more people to their current trysting, he wasn't really serious. Mara was something else entirely, and Mac just wasn't the sort to even consider asking someone else to join them. In fact, the man probably never even fantasized about other people.
He growled softly and eyed the elf, torn between the desire to confront the boy and teach him not to spy on a Prince, and amusement at the way Mac was clearly trying to sink into the ground in embarrassment. In the end, he compromised. Uldren snatched Mac back against his side and gave the man a breath-stealing kiss. When he was done, he growled at the elf, fairly sure that at least the tone of his voice would give the boy the message.
"Next time you try to watch me fuck this ass, you better expect to lose your eyes kid. I don't do shows and Mac is too embarrassed to ask for extra lovers. Next time, you ask if you wanna jack off to what I do with him. You understand me?" Uldren's voice left no room for doubt, and even someone who couldn't understand the words would be able to read the tone. He was claiming his territory and making it clear as crystal that he was the top dog. It wasn't politic, but Ilormael wasn't exactly a threat, and the rest of his people would clearly rather have them gone than hunt them down.
It worked.
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"I...it's...It's complicated," Mac whined, eyes misty as he huffed and squirmed and put a hand over Uldren's face, pushing the grasping man away with exaggerated grunting. "He's my lover and a Prince and so much more, and possessive and a real bastard," the Guardian added, turning his head and gripping Uldren's ear, tugging lightly.
"You're mean. Really mean," Mac hissed at the Crow in their normal tongue before turning back to Ilormael and going back to Elven. "He's not bad. I promise you, he's horrible in a lot of ways, but he's the best man I know."
"You must not know many men," Ilormael quipped, and Mac wasn't sure how to take it, laughing in spite of everything and looking at Uldren before huffing softly and leaning in to press a much nicer kiss to the corner of the Awoken's mouth.
"No, maybe not. But I only love this one."
"I see that."
"Saw, hm?"
"Ah...my...apologies. I shouldn't..." the elf mumbled, shaking his head, to which Mac shrugged.
"Forget it. He's all bent because he didn't give you permission, that's all. He's a total pervert. Total. Like inviting you in kind of pervert. I'm really sorry about everyt--"
"Is that common?"
"What?" Mac asked, blinking and looking up as Ilormael looked back to the meat.
"Your people, or you two. Is that what you do? Your relationship is that open? Like Orlesians or something?"
"Oh...I don't know, really," Mac mumbled, looking at Uldren with a shrug. "Why do you ask? Should I tell him you're interested?"
The elf said nothing in reply, turning the meat with a peculiar expression. Surely not, Mac thought, glancing between Ilormael and Uldren, unable to know either man's thoughts. Was the elf disgusted? Intrigued? Was Uldren being spiteful and mean, or did he truly have a curiosity for the elf? And what about his own feelings, Mac mused, looking down at his hands briefly, gloves creaking.
He knew that answer. He'd do anything Uldren wanted, no matter how humiliating, because he loved it, which was embarrassing on it's own and yet thrilling all the same.
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His eyes flicked between the two, but stayed on Mac for a long moment when the man looked down at his hands. Uldren frowned a little, knowing that expression for what it was. It aways made him feel a bit guilty when he saw Mac struggling over being together with him. There was so much that he considered necessary in an enduring relationship that just wasn't any sort of normal, and the Guardian would turn himself inside out to provide what he wanted. That wasn't fair and Uldren knew it, but when he had the man's warm body pressed close, he just could't stop himself. He cared about the idiot, more than anyone else but Mara, and as long as Mac was willing to stay by his side, he'd make the most of it.
"Mac. I wasn't really serious ok?" Uldren whispered in his lover's ear, his arm warm and firm around the man's waist, "I wouldn't make you sleep around with some stranger, but I know you'd do it if I asked. You don't have to worry, alright?" He nuzzled Mac's temple, words heartfelt and soft and meant only for his partner. Only if Mac really wanted to do something with the elf, or anyone else for that matter, would Uldren consider the possibility. He secretly treasured the naivety and innocence of his lover, despite how fucked up their relationship was, and he wouldn't ruin that for something stupid. Of course, that didn't mean he might not bring people in in the future for his own reasons . . .
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"No no, stay, of course. You brought food and you're soaked to the bone!" the Guardian protested, waving a hand and inhaling deeply. "The meat smells amazing. You should stay and eat. I promise, you're safe with us."
The elf glanced up again, flicking his eyes between the two.
"Am I? Or just safe with you..."
Mac blinked twice, looking between Uldren and the elf before shaking his head.
"You're safe," the Guardian insisted, gesturing vaguely. "I don't even know if he's interested in you, but he wouldn't like...force himself on you. And he wouldn't make me do anything. I'm pretty sure he's got his own worries. He wouldn't want to do anything unless I wanted to as well. Consent is...well. Complicated. It's all complicated bu--"
"So you're saying I'm safe so long as you aren't interested. So what if you were?"
"What? B-but I'm just trying to say--"
"Are you interested?"
"What?"
"In me. Are you?" Ilormael asked archly, looking up from the cooked meat as he moved it away from the flames.
"I'm. I can't answer that," Mac floundered, licking his lips and looking to Uldren for some kind of help before he remembered the Awoken couldn't understand.
"So you don't find me attractive?" the elf baited, and Mac squeaked.
"Of course I do!"
"Is it because I'm an elf?"
"What? No! I've never even seen a real elf before you! I didn't even know they were real! They're just stories where I'm from!"
"So it's not a racial fetish?"
"No!"
"But you do find me attractive?" the elf asked, barely hiding his smirk, nostrils flaring in his efforts not to laugh at how fun it was to flustered the other man, even if he was risking angering the prince. So what? What could they do with no weapons and no stealth to get the drop on him? He could disappear in a whisper - if he wanted to.
"Yes of course!" Mac cried in response, unaware he was getting strung along in the elf's mischief.
"Your majesty," Ghost spoke up in only Uldren's comm. "Mac is having some difficulty with the elf. The elf seems to be....teasing him? Trapping Mac in his own words and implications. It may be prudent to intervene. Or not. I only thought you should know what was going on," the companion remarked, and then immediately began translating everything for Uldren as well, lending the convenience, even if Uldren might not be able to speak the language, he could at least know everything said.
"So if you wanted me, there would be no stopping him, right?" the elf asked, arching a brow and holding out meat on sticks to both men. Mac simply held his in stunned helplessness.
"It...it isn't like that! I wouldn't do anything you didn't want to!"
"So if I did want to, you'd what?"
"Wanted to what? Wanted to what!?" Mac squawked, flailing wildly, caught up in the heat of the moment.
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Uldren tore into his meat hungrily and tried not to choke on his smothered laughter. The exchange between the two was rather hilarious, and interesting. He couldn't read the elf as easily as he could Mac, so he wasn't entirely certain whether there was any truth behind the banter on the boy's side. As far as the Guardian was concerned, it was entirely possible that the man was developing an attraction for the elf, simply because everyone around him was forcing him to think about it. Once he finished his own meat stick, Uldren took Mac's, since he was flailing around with it and wasn't actually eating it himself, and the Prince was starving.
"This meat needs salt, but at least it's hot. And if you keep thrashing around like that Mac, I'll strip you naked and let the elf have his way with you. I think you'd enjoy sucking his dick, even though you keep protesting you can't decide if you want him." He winked at the elf and held out his hand for more meat. Unlike Mac, he couldn't live on Light.
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"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.
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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.
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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."
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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 . . .
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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.
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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."
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"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.
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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?"
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"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."
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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 . . ."
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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.
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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."
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"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.
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