[ She had not been the only orphaned bastard employed by Plutt in the Saltpans. There were others, and just like her, when they stole from him (stole things they had scavenged, of course) or disobeyed him or even just when he was in an unpleasant mood, he'd strike them. On those nights, Rey had leaned back against the wall and hugged her knees to her chest and recited the songs she'd heard on the road up from Dorne.
One of them was a song of adventure about a brave knight who'd traveled down to Dorne before the kingdoms had been united. He'd brought back a tapestry from the throne room on Dorne. The men she traveled with had always laughed, and it had taken her a while to realize why; people fought and died for that tapestry, and that knight had patted himself on the back, but he couldn't do anything with it. And he'd showed it off to his king, but he'd not gotten anything for it because he'd come back instead of properly holding Dorne.
She felt a great deal like that tapestry now, she realized. Useless luggage. She hated that feeling, and she decided so quickly. The journey thus far had already bruised her legs and back, and she wasn't allowed to talk, and she wasn't allowed to fight for her life, and she might as well be a bloody tapestry for all that Ren wanted from her.
When Ren slashed out, though, he lost his grip on her and she slipped off the side of the saddle, rolling into it and throwing her bound hands up over her head to keep his mare from trampling her. She rolled clear and fumbled her way to her feet.
She'd been right. There were more than four here now. So though the two archers had been felled, and Ren had caught one of them in the face, there were still a handful standing. They seemed to realize what they'd gotten themselves into, however. Ren's sword, at the very least, was a recognizable beast. This wasn't just a traveling group of green knights. The were Redcloaks with their Lord Commander.
These bandits didn't want to leave empty-handed though. Without purses or supplies to steal and get off with, one of them tried to grab the chain she dragged behind her just as she reached for Ren's dropped scabbard, thinking she might defend herself with it at least. It was heavy and metal and solid. But the bandit pulled her off her feet, but one of Ren's bannermen took him out swiftly enough. They closed ranks then, while she clambered back to her feet.
Tapestry indeed.
She looked up begrudgingly at the one who had interceded and wondered if that was loyalty to his Lord Commander or compassion for her. Or if it mattered. The rest of the bandits scattered and fled, giving up when they'd seen enough of their comrades' guts. They were smart, she thought, watching one of them recede out of sight in the tree cover. They'd run.
She looked down at the chain that dragged off her manacles.
She should have run. How long did she had to try to convince herself that dead would be better than this? If she stayed with them, Ren would either lose his temper and kill her, lose his temper and let his men have her, or get her killed with his own pride and stupidity. ]
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One of them was a song of adventure about a brave knight who'd traveled down to Dorne before the kingdoms had been united. He'd brought back a tapestry from the throne room on Dorne. The men she traveled with had always laughed, and it had taken her a while to realize why; people fought and died for that tapestry, and that knight had patted himself on the back, but he couldn't do anything with it. And he'd showed it off to his king, but he'd not gotten anything for it because he'd come back instead of properly holding Dorne.
She felt a great deal like that tapestry now, she realized. Useless luggage. She hated that feeling, and she decided so quickly. The journey thus far had already bruised her legs and back, and she wasn't allowed to talk, and she wasn't allowed to fight for her life, and she might as well be a bloody tapestry for all that Ren wanted from her.
When Ren slashed out, though, he lost his grip on her and she slipped off the side of the saddle, rolling into it and throwing her bound hands up over her head to keep his mare from trampling her. She rolled clear and fumbled her way to her feet.
She'd been right. There were more than four here now. So though the two archers had been felled, and Ren had caught one of them in the face, there were still a handful standing. They seemed to realize what they'd gotten themselves into, however. Ren's sword, at the very least, was a recognizable beast. This wasn't just a traveling group of green knights. The were Redcloaks with their Lord Commander.
These bandits didn't want to leave empty-handed though. Without purses or supplies to steal and get off with, one of them tried to grab the chain she dragged behind her just as she reached for Ren's dropped scabbard, thinking she might defend herself with it at least. It was heavy and metal and solid. But the bandit pulled her off her feet, but one of Ren's bannermen took him out swiftly enough. They closed ranks then, while she clambered back to her feet.
Tapestry indeed.
She looked up begrudgingly at the one who had interceded and wondered if that was loyalty to his Lord Commander or compassion for her. Or if it mattered. The rest of the bandits scattered and fled, giving up when they'd seen enough of their comrades' guts. They were smart, she thought, watching one of them recede out of sight in the tree cover. They'd run.
She looked down at the chain that dragged off her manacles.
She should have run. How long did she had to try to convince herself that dead would be better than this? If she stayed with them, Ren would either lose his temper and kill her, lose his temper and let his men have her, or get her killed with his own pride and stupidity. ]