[ He made such a show of his displeasure that it took a few moments — most of which he spent at the bar, thankfully — for the air of levity to return to the table. She tried to recover it by asking one of the innkeeper's daughters about her strange and elaborate hairstyle, and the girl was all too happy to explain all the work that went into it. Rey didn't blame her. She ought to be proud, the way it looked. She wondered if all the women around here learned how to do that.
Eventually Versio got up to head to the bar for his own drink, and though Ren was back, one of the innkeeper's girls seized the opportunity to ask Rey about him. She'd been traveling with them for a while after all, right? Was he alright? That sort of thing. She found it surprisingly difficult to answer. ]
He's alright. [ Rey didn't look at Ren, but instead up at the bar at Versio. They, like Ren, were complicated. Kind individually, but she had not forgotten the way they'd chased her down with Ren's dogs, or the way they'd slaughtered her caravan. How could she reconcile those two things to a single judgment?
But she knew the answer the girl wanted: she wanted to know if he would hurt her. This, at least, Rey could answer. ] Yeah. Yeah, he's been kind.
[ Or he would be to them, at least. He wouldn't run a sword through them, they wouldn't have to watch blood pour out of anyone's throat. The storyteller joined them, eventually, and Rey asked for him to tell them one about Bastila Shan.
She listened in perfect rapture through the whole thing, paying little to no attention to the dark shadow at the corner of the table. With everything he'd put her through over the past several days, she could have this. ]
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Eventually Versio got up to head to the bar for his own drink, and though Ren was back, one of the innkeeper's girls seized the opportunity to ask Rey about him. She'd been traveling with them for a while after all, right? Was he alright? That sort of thing. She found it surprisingly difficult to answer. ]
He's alright. [ Rey didn't look at Ren, but instead up at the bar at Versio. They, like Ren, were complicated. Kind individually, but she had not forgotten the way they'd chased her down with Ren's dogs, or the way they'd slaughtered her caravan. How could she reconcile those two things to a single judgment?
But she knew the answer the girl wanted: she wanted to know if he would hurt her. This, at least, Rey could answer. ] Yeah. Yeah, he's been kind.
[ Or he would be to them, at least. He wouldn't run a sword through them, they wouldn't have to watch blood pour out of anyone's throat. The storyteller joined them, eventually, and Rey asked for him to tell them one about Bastila Shan.
She listened in perfect rapture through the whole thing, paying little to no attention to the dark shadow at the corner of the table. With everything he'd put her through over the past several days, she could have this. ]