With darkness thick on all sides, Asbel's only light flickered lower and lower as he crept deeper into woods uncomfortably silent. Where were the birds? Where were the insects? Even if they were too far south for the latter, he should still have been able to hear the former. Instead, all that reached him was the occasional creak of stressed wood, a howl (of course) from something hunting closer to the mountains, a whisper of wind through fallen leaves that sounded just too much like whispering for Asbel's comfort.

So when he stumbled at last across someone upright and vaguely human-shaped, he flared. For the space of a breath, the phoenix wreathed himself in a halo of orange and gold, a whirlwind of spark and flame and miniature inferno. He was not going to flee, not now, even if his legs shook like reeds. But neither was he going to die. Not here.

"Get back," he hissed, voice deepened by panic. "Don't you dare--"

With a fizz of recognition, the second human-shape clicked into focus: Frey. Prince Frey. And Asbel put out his fire with such speed that cold air rushed in on him from all sides in the sudden vacuum left by the dissipated heat.

He had expected, as before, to find Frey screaming and halfway into shock, and the surprise of being the one out of breath and on the verge of panic when Frey himself seemed fine brought a flush to -- Asbel was sure -- every inch of his face. He had never intended to appear so... discomposed in front of the princes, and he certainly did not want to appear so in front of whoever this stranger was.

"Frey--" he broke off, tried again. "Are you alright?" His voice was tight with polite reserve -- a far cry from the anxiety still trapped against his sternum. "Did you fall in a river again? Are you bleeding?" He reached out as if to move to Frey's side, to investigate with touch, then shot another glance at the dark, handsome stranger between them and fell back without taking so much as a step closer. "And, er, who-- who is this?"

Why had Frey allowed Sverre to tag along? Certainly not because he wanted or needed a bodyguard. Maybe... with his last scuffle with his brother he felt a bit at risk. Dark elves were famed for being fighters, so if Sverre had any honesty about him, then Frey would have little to worry about. Then again, it was Cassius and Augustine against Frey. And then there was Asbel... who was pretty much in the middle.

Before he had time to complain about walking, a bright fire lit up and Frey knew it was the phoenix. Chuckling a bit, relaxed that Asbel was alone, the prince met his concerns with a smirk. Though it was hardly mocking, Frey kept it real, not like the smiles he gave to people he was trying to please. If he was to get Asbel on his side, maybe he could impress him with honesty.

Sverre, all but laughing at the poor phoenix, stepped behind Frey though kept a less than cautious gaze to Asbel. Obviously the dark elf did not regard him a current threat. "Yeah, I'm good. I wouldn't have been without Sverre here, though. He's my new bodyguard!" The prince beamed. That was fun to say. He felt so important with a bodyguard. Maybe others would think he was important now. After all, all his other siblings had their... mounts with them all the time. Now Frey could say he was protected, though he doubted Sverre would last for a month.

"This is Asbel." Frey said plainly, then, trying to instigate something added rather slowly and with a tinge in his cheeks to try and help the phoenix feel better, "Thank you for... uhm... caring? Or watching?" Maybe Asbel wasn't so bad. Maybe he wasn't a total chicken and even though he was pretty annoying.... There were other people to tease, right? If he could make it three verses two then.. "I... I'll try to look out for you too." Frey promised, sounding soft and tired and ready to fall asleep.

"But for now I think I'm gonna follow you..." The prince reasoned with a yawn.

A bodyguard? He'd found someone in the woods and now the man was his bodyguard? Asbel may have spent his entire present life in the palace, but he still doubted that bumping into someone in the woods was proper form for trusting someone with your life. And what did Frey need a bodyguard for? He had Augustine and Cassius -- and they would have protected him if Frey hadn't screamed at the dragon earlier.

Already confused (and in no small degree concerned) by Frey's new friend, the sudden touch of humility and uncertainty that stole across the prince's face and voice did nothing to settle the phoenix. Apparently the prince was getting better at gratitude, but the kindness still felt strange: it ruffled just as many of Asbel's feathers as his rudeness did, if perhaps for different reasons. I'll try to look out for you, too. Well... that was a bit of a change. But Frey's generosity last time had also not lasted longer than it took to be rescued, and that would surely be the case this time as well.

But for now, the prince's soft and sleepy voice, if nothing else, eased the tension in Asbel's shoulders, and the phoenix uncurled his hands from anxious fists. "I'll show you the way back to camp, then," he promised, and with a wary glance at Sverre, took the prince's elbow to guide him back through the forest. His glow was enough to guide them over the rough terrain, and after the flare earlier, Augustine would know where he was and would be able to shadow them back to camp; there was no way for Cassius to land with the trees so close together.

So the phoenix began to lead the way back with a careful grip on Frey's arm and an eye on Sverre, who he wanted neither ahead of them or behind. "What were you doing in the woods at this time of night?" he asked the dark elf during one of these last sidelong investigations. "And why is the prince all wet?"

The dark elf trailed them, hard leather boots suited perfectly for the sharp and jagged terrain. He was careful not to bump into any trees, for fear that water would rain down upon them and the fire-bird would be doused. And his new master wouldn't like that. It was then a sudden thought struck him. Why was Prince Frey so tired? He was just taking a nap in the middle of the night! Oh, wait... humans were diurnal creatures, weren't they? That meant that if he did as he always did, he would be napping on the job! And that would be unacceptable.

He stared blankly at the bird. He didn't appear to be one, of course, but Sverre's senses were rather sharp, aside from his sensitive eyes. He may have looked like a man, but Asbel had the smoky scent of what smelled of peacock feathers, though he doubted any human could identify it. "I am a dark elf. The night is my friend." He rasped slowly, struggling to talk. He noticed Frey sluggishly almost sleepwalking. "And I doused the prince with this urn," He murmured, gesturing to the clay jug he had fastened to his belt. "To wake him. He looked to be having quite a nightmare."

Frey moved automatically, eyes wanting to shut from the cold wind. Not wanting to give in, he fought. All his life had fought. He had fought against his family, other royal families, servants, Bachus, and council members as well as soldiers. Anyone who stood in his way he always stomped without looking back. It wasn't as if obeying the prince saved anyone, either. He was intolerable either way, but in the palace, his presence was a way of life. He was something meant to be endured.

Gritting his teeth, he wondered if anyone missed him or worried about him. He could bet more than a few of them were worried he would be brought back in one piece. He was a tyrant to the servants, a brat to his family, and an enemy to the divine creatures in the pens, Cassius aside. And now, what did the black dragon think of him? More importantly, how would he bring himself to deal with it.

They had arrived back st the campsite before he knew it, the prince slapping himself hard to stay awake. The sky, still pitch black, began to illuminate softly. It was a long way 'till dawn, but no longer total blackness. They could see it through the trees. He could tell by the pathetic half-finsihed tent that this was their camping site.

He swallowed thickly, nervous because of the tension in the air. Forcing his eyes up, he stared stone hard at his brother and his dragon, though it was too hard to look Cassius in the eye so he just stared at Augustine. Sverre, absurd as it may have been, hid a bit behind Frey, crouching. "Brother. Dragon." He greeted formally, pridefully. He then stepped aside, giving everyone a better view of Sverre. "This is Sverre. He's coming with us," Frey declared matter-of factly even though he had no actual power or influence in this endeavor.

He was tempted to apologize to Cassius, though he didn't. He simply pursed his lips tight, elbow squeezing Asbel's arm for reassurance. To say sorry would be to admit he was wrong, which he would never, ever do. But... "I... I didn't mean to... to throw..." He felt all eyes burning on him, and he felt like running away all over again. "I didn't mean to throw a tantrum." He finished with a huff.

Even before Asbel led his tattered group into the clearing, Augustine and Cassius were waiting. The eldest prince stood beside the sorry attempt at a tent, his hand resting protectively, possessively on the dragon's shoulder. And while Asbel shrank instinctively beneath the man's stony gaze, Augustine's resolve broke the moment he saw his brother: the general stepped forward without a word, and took Frey's face in his hands to check him for injuries. Never mind the new visitor and never mind the past: all he had attention for was Frey's well-being, and Asbel bit his lip to fight back the lump rising in his throat. Frey was unbelievably lucky; with his past attitude, he didn't deserve someone who cared about him so much. But the phoenix squeezed back all the same as Frey tightened his grip, sending tendrils of encouraging warmth through the young prince's arm, hating himself for being so envious.

"You can't keep running away, brother," Augustine murmured. His quick examination of Frey complete, he still kept both hands firmly on the young man's shoulders, as if afraid Frey, drop-dead exhausted or not, was about to make another break for it. "I didn't... mean to hurt you. We're on your side, Frey. We want to help you. Chasing us away solves nothing."

Cassius, meanwhile, had drawn closer as well, and studied the dark elf with a thoughtful frown. He knew far better than Asbel did what the royal family had done to the dark elves in years past. While this one seemed... decent, there was no guarantee that he wasn't going to hurt either Frey or Augustine. "What do you mean to accomplish by traveling with us?" he asked, voice deep and low.

At the dragon's voice, Augustine started and glanced in his direction, then dropped his gaze to the remains of the tent beside them. "You're about off your feet, Frey. We'll sleep outside tonight; there should be enough blankets." For the first time, the general took in Sverre, young and shy and roguishly handsome. "Enough for all of us, though you, young man, I'll put between myself and Asbel."

"You can stay next to me," Asbel whispered to Frey, voice soft though surprisingly steady as he cast another uncertain glance in the dark elf's direction. "I can warm you enough to dry your clothes." And I'll be after you like a shot if you run away again.