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[ The lack of scratching from the dogs offers her peace, at first. She only thinks to look down in time to see one of his thicker knights preparing to scale the tree. He's worse at it than she is, trained knight or no. She gets to her feet then, wary and ready to pounce away, but—

There's another climbing up the next tree.

Balls. All of it, balls.

They would hold her in cells in King's Landing, if she ever made it to cells. If he didn't turn her into a meal for his dogs. If, if, if. Lady Organa apparently had allies in King's Landing. Perhaps when they heard what her crimes were, they would save her. Come to her rescue and whisk her away through some secret tunnel and —

It was the fantasy of a child. A fairytale. She'd be better to jump now, let her neck break, and never risk them hearing where Skywalker was. If she didn't, they'd torture it out of her.

She straightens her knees, trying to bring herself to do it. She can do it. Skywalker is their only chance, for once in her stupid, worthless life she doesn't have to be selfish. She can just … She can do this. Her life is worth less than his, and if she's captured, it's a matter of when — not if — they pull Skywalker from her. She knows this. Knows this, and yet …

A lifetime of survival cannot be overriden. She can't bring herself to jump.

She pulls the knife from her belt and for a moment it looks like she might raise it against his knight, the one climbing after her. She levels it at him, grasped in both hands, but —

It'll hurt worse, and she'll lose. She'll lose.

Surviving today is the first battle.

She drops the knife and lets it plunge to the forest floor, holding up her hands. ]

It's gone. Kill me and you'll never know what was in it.

[ The knight hesitates as he gets high enough in the tree to grasp her, then looks down at Ren for guidance. ]

[It feels like a knife in his ribs. It takes everything he has not to start swinging his sword into whatever he could strike. His anger rides so high that his horse starts to prance nervously.

When his eyes open again, he looks resigned. He does not look up again.]

Seize her.

[Ren's voice is a quiet but firm command. He turns his horse to leave just as the knight near her grabs at her leg to force her out of the tree. There are two below waiting to catch and bind her for the road.

He would need to get that message out of her before he could reappear in front of the King. And that meant that he would need to remain in the Kingswood for some time yet.]

[ With a stubborn shout, she kicked at the knight who grabbed for her. The panic that lanced through her was the panic of a girl who knew what happened to girls taken in by the so-called honorable Redcloaks. She didn't want any one of them touching her. That was certain. ]

I surrendered!

[ She shouted it not once but twice more before finally the knight wrestled her from the tree and she hit her head on a branch coming down. Dazing her, not knocking her out. It got her just slow enough that his comrades in armor could close in around her, and all she could see was the swishing curtain of their cloaks against the soil.

She felt sick. The lacquer on that piece of parchment, probably. She'd heard a boy in the Saltpans tell her once that it was made of the same stuff they embalmed lords and ladies with. Or maybe it was the blow to the head. She swallowed that feeling down and allowed them to drag her to her feet.

While the climbing guards collected and donned their armor, the others bound her arms flat to her sides in a coil of rope. Flat. Snug. Painful. It threatened to cut off her circulation, but then, they wouldn't need her arms to get information out of her.

They wouldn't need much to get information out of her.

Stupid, she chastised herself. Just look a little further in front of your face. Should have jumped. ]

[Ren waits for the rest of his party to join him, eyes cast up toward the sun to gauge the hour. They couldn't stay here, but it would be dusk soon. They would need to make camp further in the wood.

He holds out his hand to his side, and the larger knight places the rope in it. It is clear his cavalry is a bit confused -- any one of them could have lead her on the path. In fact, they seem to be put off that he'd denied them.

But the information she carries is most important to him. He would not risk one of them doing something stupid and risking it now.]

Ser Moroes. [A smaller knight rode to the front.] Ride ahead. Return word that we will be delayed.

[A salute was passed before Ser Moroes rode off. They hadn't brought any ravens -- it was meant to be a short jaunt, with no faith behind it. He is sure some of his men still don't understand the importance of their cargo.

He turned his head in Rey's direction.]

Your surrender meant that my men did not have to break your hands or legs after they retrieved you. Consider that your reward.

[ Delayed? What the hell did that mean?

He wasn't taking her back to King's Landing?

When the rope changes hands, Rey gets a rude awakening, jerked along as she is quite suddenly by it going taut because of the pace Ren's horse keeps. She staggers along, picking up her pace. If she falls, she seriously doubts that any one of them will care. They'd probably laugh at her. Kick her.

Little lords and ladies might be fooled into believing that the Redcloaks had any honor at all, but Rey came from the Saltpans. She knew better. She'd seen the sorts of things they did, and she didn't doubt for a second that they would have broken her for punishment, not out of necessity.

Again she finds herself thinking she should have jumped, and whether it was too late to kill herself another way. ]

Delayed by what? [ If he hasn't killed her yet, he's not going to kill her for being blunt and asking what the hell they're doing with her. ] Where are we going?

[From the top of his horse, the Lord Commander makes an irritated noise, prompting laughter from his men. They are silenced with a severe glance backward. In that moment, he looks ready to leap off his horse and strangle them.

His eyes drop back down to her, more tired than angry. He isn't answering her question on principal, not because it is any great secret.]

A more clever girl would ask less questions. But then, a more clever girl might also not think to betray the crown in the first place. Did you think you were the only one playing courier for House Organa?

[He allows that to sink in, observing her reaction with some obvious pleasure before looking away from her.]

Curious enough, you were the only one to destroy your message. What am I to think of that?

[ Traitor, traitor. He keeps sticking that knife between her ribs like it's supposed to mean something, but what has the crown ever done for an orphan girl from Dorne, trapped in the Saltpans doing a slave's work in a kingdom that was supposed to have outlawed slavery?

His men had killed those slavers, but they weren't pulling Lord Plutt out of the Saltpans.

It's the rest of what he says that is more shocking to her. Other couriers? Did that mean he had already seen the message anyway? No. She'd be dead if that were true. Was he lying, then? Were there no others? Or was it that they were distractions, and like one of his hounds, he had sniffed her out like a wounded animal?

None of these options appealed. She tried to clear her mind of them. No use dwelling on them. For now, she lived. That's what mattered. ]

Does my lord often need others to tell him how to think? Good thing you joined up with the Redcloaks, I suppose. That's one way to get it. [ She wanted her mouth to stop moving. Really, she did. Mouthing off wasn't going to keep her alive any longer, and alive had such a broad definition in the first place.

But in part that was why she did. He hadn't let his dogs eat her. And he hadn't had his men break her limbs like he'd threatened. So far he was a lot of empty threats. He needed something from her. If other couriers had existed, they certainly didn't have the information about Skywalker. But the Lord Commander knew that they ought to have had it. ]

[Around him, his men reacted to her bite. Naturally, he could not leave her insolence unanswered. His horse stalls and he jerks on the girl's lead, pulling her to the sweaty side of his steed and up, up to the saddle. His hand comes to close around her throat and he lifts her off the ground until they are eye level.

He does all of this in armor, so she does not mistake his strength.]

You are rather eager to use that mouth of your's. I will be sure to make arrangements for you before we return to King's Landing. It is the least I can do.

[The knights surrounding him exchange glances, attempting to hide their curiosity as they smirk to one another. He lowers his arm just enough to drop her so that she doesn't break any of her slight limbs, and does not give her a chance to catch her breath before the horse starts moving again.

Ultimately, the only thing that mattered was the information she carried, and he would pry it from her if it was the last thing he did.

And then, he would kill Skywalker himself.]

Edited 2018-05-16 15:49 (UTC)

[ An unchecked yelp answers the sudden jerking motion, but any other sound is cut off by the hand closing around her throat. She can't scramble to pry it away, not with her arms bound at her sides like this. Somehow that only hammers his point home. She kicks instead. It's not the mare's fault her master is a monster, but Rey risks kicking her in the ribs anyway. Maybe she'll get spooked and run and Rey will be jostled from his grip.

But he dropped her just as she managed a good kick and she was just left falling on her ass despite his efforts to prevent it. The rope wasn't properly long enough, and he moved right away, so she fumbled behind him, dragged. The rocks on the forest floor scraped up her legs through her pants, and she was bleeding through a hole left behind by the time she finally got her heels back under her to chase his horse.

Fear quickened her pulse. It occurred to her to beg, but what good would it do? Giving him what he wanted wouldn't save her. So instead she glanced around to take inventory of his men. Only a few remained stoic and unresponsive in the face of Ren's threat. One of them was grizzled enough that he might have still had some honor of the old King. The other two were probably just uninterested in women.

No allies. No honor. No saviors. If she was going to get out of this, she'd have to do it herself. When they stopped, maybe.

Two of them quipped and elbowed one another further back. The two who'd climbed the trees. She took stock of the weapons she could see on them. A sword and dagger each. Plus the plate — that was probably heavy enough to hit them with, provided she had hands to lift it. If she'd had a mother, she'd probably have warned Rey about letting herself get into a position like this one.

Silence stretched after that, his threat finally doing enough to curb her sharp tongue as she marched alongside him. ]

Edited 2018-05-16 16:13 (UTC)

[As they moved northwest, closer to the coastline, the humidity only increased even as the sun began to set. Most of the men had removed their helmets now. The Lord Commander hasn't worn his the entire journey -- in contrast, he looks exhausted in a different way.

The remains of their camp were still gently smoldering in front of them near a creek. Almost immediately, when the hounds are given release, they dart over to play in the water and drink their heart's content. Each of their horses give a tired snort as they come to a halt and their riders dismount.

The knights don't bother to communicate as they pitch their tents and smooth out their bedrolls. The Lord Commander, instead, leads his captive to the creek with the hounds, stopping short of its edge.]

Do you know who I am?

[He glances down, one eyebrow raised. It was hardly uncommon knowledge. Lord Commander Ren had removed many house sigils from the map of Westeros, including that of his own father. And yet, this girl dared to defy him in front of his own men.

She was either ignorant or she had nothing to lose. Until he finds out which one, she'll stay tied up.]

[ Rey did not like one bit that she was being brought, bound and alone, off to the side of this camp with Ren. That creek was deep enough to drown her in. Or to start drowning her, and—

She pushed those thoughts away, calling on an image of rolling desert hills in the back of her mind to put herself at peace. If he was going to torture her, she wasn't going to stop him by worrying about it. She'd only work herself up. ]

Kylo Ren.

[ She spat the name like an accusation — and in Westeros, it was. ]

You stripped yourself of the name of your house and took a new one when you became Lord Commander. Everyone knows who you are. [ A long pause. She didn't look at him. If she looked at him, she'd feel that bone-deep fear that came with seeing those soulless, impassive eyes. ] M'lord.

[ Because truly, probing at his bad reputation wasn't going to help her any, so she could at least offer him the courtesy of common manners. For as far as that would go. ]

What are you planning to do with me? [ Planning to, she said. Not going to. He wouldn't succeed, if there were any gods at all. ]

That is correct.

[Her insults don't seem to effect him at all -- after all, it was only the truth that she spoke. He wore his bad reputation like a badge of honor, and had the kill count to go with it.

She won't meet his eyes, which tells him that his intimidation tactics are doing the trick after all. One large hand comes up to her shoulder, the rope pressing into the soft exterior when he does.]

That all depends on you. You've already cost me precious time with your needless parchment stunt. And if you think the Redcloak vows will keep me from prying that location from you, then I strongly suggest that you reconsider.

[That is a threat that he doesn't lay down lightly, judging by the way he bends his spine to tell it to her. His hand falls from her shoulder]

You're no Organa -- you owe them nothing, and they owe you less than nothing.

[ They were not going back to King's Landing, she realized, because the cells there and the methods they had for dealing with prisoners would not allow for what men like Lord Commander Ren did to get information. She would not make it to Lady Organa's allies in King's Landing. They would not be able to free her. She was not a hero of some great resistance against an unjust throne.

She was just an obstacle. And everyone in Westeros knew how Kylo Ren handled obstacles. ]

I owe you less than nothing.

[ And Lady Organa hadn't chased her down like a game animal, bound and dragged her behind a horse, and laid hands on her. If he'd been any closer, she'd have bit him. Maybe she'd still get the chance. (No, she thought, she didn't want that chance.) ]

You killed those people. Slaughtered them like pigs. I'm not giving you anything.

Because they were harboring you, unfortunately. Is that how you want to be remembered? Slaughtered like a pig?

[He tilts his head, unaffected by her passion. In fact, his brows pinch with interest as he reaches up to inspect the bruise forming under her jaw. Up close, though his black and chrome armor is tarnished, the shinier accents still reflect her face back at her.]

Or...I suppose you wouldn't be remembered at all, would you?

[There is a sadness there as he voices his observation. His touch is gentle now as he cradles the injury, encouraging her to look up at him.]

It does not have to be that way.

[ Somehow, gentle was worse. Gentle wormed its way under her skin the way the bruise had. Kindness had no place in him; it felt wrong. She jerked her chin away roughly — if anything, just to resist on principle, though her hands trembled. ]

Don't touch me.

[ Focusing on this spared her focusing on what he was saying. What was he saying? She was a bastard. A nobody. He was right; if he left her here dead, gutted, she'd be forgotten. Not a single person would mourn. No one.

But it had to be that way. She had no name. No house. ]

[He allows her to have her chin back. After all, she was tied up -- allowing her that was like allowing her oxygen. His hand drops back to his side.

Somewhere behind them, the men finish setting up camp. The smell of a fire starts to fill the atmosphere. Every now and then, one of the younger knights can be seen peering over impatiently at them. Ren pays them no mind.

Instead, he moves to sit by the creek, obviously not interested in returning to the circle.]

You have no loyalties, no banners, and yet when I present you with an opportunity to spare your life some hardship, you spit in my open palm.

[He looks up at her, squinting under his scarred eye, waiting for her to try and kick him. It would do her no good, of course. He is still encased in armor.]

The missive. A little bird tells me that it contained some distressing news regarding Skywalker -- a man who's meant to be long dead for his crimes against Westeros. So you surely understand why it is so important that I understand the contents of it.

[His eyes move past Rey to focus on the two men further up the hill, both of which were now looking down at the pair of them expectantly. He tilts his head up so that Rey is aware they are watching.]

I will give you one last chance to tell me. Or I'll be forced to let you start speaking to them -- and they are not quite as conversational as myself.

[ There was no point to crying. He wouldn't feel sorry for her, and it wouldn't stop him, but tears threatened behind her eyes anyway, burning. The effort of holding them back contorted the firm line she set her mouth into.

He was right, of course. House Organa meant nothing to her. And she meant nothing to them. They weren't going to come for her. Lady Organa's contact in King's Landing was not going to save her. Finn, the only person who even knew what she'd been doing, was long gone — probably well up towards the wall by now where it would be safer, where no one would look twice. ]

Don't.

[ She pressed her eyes shut. Damn. ]

Please.

[ But such pleas would mean nothing to him either, not if she didn't give him what he wanted as well. ]

I don't know anything about Skywalker. I don't know what was in the message. I couldn't read it.

[ A lie, but would he know that she was anything but some illiterate bastard? With an accent like hers, maybe. More to the point, she'd gone an awful long way to keep him from reading it for someone who had no idea what it contained. ]

[Unfortunately, he is not quite fool enough to believe her. He watches her lose her nerve in the face of his threat -- and of course, he cannot blame her. That was why he had made it, because it was effective.

Pity. If she wasn't going to cooperate, then she left him no choice.

He does not give her a verbal reply, but there is an insulted frown that crosses his features. After all, he'd already pointed out that she was the only one who felt the need to destroy the message she carried. Lord Ren gets to his feet with an impatient noise, wrapping up the short leash and starting the process of dragging her back up the hill.

By now, most of the men have turned their backs. But it won't take much to get their attention, especially if Rey starts to struggle.]

No. [ On the first step, the refusal erupted from her lips. From there she tried to dig her heels in and resist, gouging the soil with her worn boot soles. ] No, no. No, don't!

[ She staggered along with him, giving way once she was at risk of coming off balance, but after a handful of steps she realized that her weight was the only tool she has. Rey let herself fall. That, of course, only meant being dragged, and with her arms pinned, it's not a particularly dignified drag either, one that requires her to use her legs as a rudder.

She even tried to kick at his ankles and the backs of his knees before finally — ]

Stop. STOP! I'll tell you. [ She thrashed. ] I'll give you what you want.

[ Craven, whispered a dark part of her mind. ]

[He stops and turns, looking expectant. Up the hill, his men begin to complaint and hiss down at the pair of them, but the Lord Commander does not so much as twitch in response. He does not move to help her stand, nor does he rise further up the hill.

But then, abruptly, he whips his head up there so fast that his entire set of armor screeches with the effort.]

ENOUGH!

[He snarls up the hill, spittle flying from his mouth. The younger knights practically fall over themselves to get out of his immediate line of sight. The older knights shake their head, and turn back to the fire.

Kylo Ren, on the other hand, wrestles his fury back down and looks down to Rey again -- impassive as he had been a moment ago, but looking more tired.]

The contents, if you please.

[There is an edge in his voice, indicating that he has reached the end of his tolerance for peaceful negotiation.]

Edited 2018-05-16 20:22 (UTC)

[ The abrupt halt granted her a face full of dirt, but she rolled over in time to notice it was his men that he turned his fury on, quieting their heckling. It did little to soothe the panic that left her skin clammy and tight. She'd spent a lifetime dressing herself in men's clothing to avoid these sorts of situations. That he could turn that cruelty on and off at a moment's notice, that he didn't even hesitate, told her everything she needed to know about him.

Kylo Ren was the monster everyone made him out to be. And right now, her life was in his hands.

She looked up at him, dirt smeared across her sweaty face, and she knew she didn't have another chance. Her chest heaved with every panicked breath, never slowing or easing because her pulse never quite slowed. She didn't believe that she was out of danger. Not yet. ]

What are you going to do when you find him?

[ She knew the answer already of course. This was only self-flagellation for being a fucking pussy and backing off of her principles the minute he got his hands on her. They were animals. All of them. As soon as they got what they wanted, she'd be lucky if they killed her quickly. It stood to reason that Ren might just keep dragging her up the hill.

Unless she had a way to convince him not to. Though, speaking of animals — they didn't have ravens with them. He'd sent a runner instead. No parchment then either, probably. There had been that map of the dock in Lys on the parchment. Maybe if she promised her cooperation in drawing it, then—

Maybe. ]

[So he was alive. That makes his fists clench.]

That depends on what he does when we find him. And where he is.

[A lie, but most definitely the official response. King Snoke had wanted him returned alive to extract additional information about the Seven Kingdoms.

But Kylo Ren was going to kill him, no matter the various factors involved. The rightful king could not be permitted to live after he'd failed to protect the throne from Snoke -- after he'd failed to protect the interest of his own family.]

Not that it is any concern of your's.

[He adds that to remind her that, in reality, he could just kill her and be done with this whole thing.]

Essos.

[ She slumped as the word passed her lips, the hollow disappointment of defeat swelling in to fill the void as the fight drained out of her. She blinked away tears but a few of them trickled out the corners of her eyes, running straight back into her hair. She turned her head to hide them and spit dirt out of her mouth to give herself greater cover. ]

There was a map. [ This came out hatefully, as though she begrudged Ren every word she spoke. He had forced them from her, after all. It didn't matter that even now she tried to stay vague, to offer him all of the free cities to search instead of just Lys. He would get what he wanted. ] Untie my bonds. Promise me my freedom, and I can recreate it for you.

[ And maybe she could slit his throat. They likely had no paper here, and he'd have to keep her alive and cooperative at least that long. ]

[Essos. Of course. Nobody in Westeros was stupid enough to harbor him -- not even Lady Organa.

His exhale is calming and slow. Its not a perfect response, but it is something. He reaches down to the ground to pick her up by the rope, standing her on her own two feet. If he feels her knees buckle, he will hold her there.]

You will have your freedom when I have Skywalker. Perhaps more, if you change your tune.

[That, he can compromise on. He continues up the hill, but takes a turn away from the fire and heads toward his own tent. He pushes her down into a sitting position on the log resting outside of it.

He then kneels to bind her legs to keep her from running. Presuming she doesn't try to kick him in the face, he'll cut the rest of her bonds off, and bind her wrists with a set of cuffs, and the chain lead will be nailed firmly to that log.

And finally, after that, he will free her legs.]

You get one chance. If you attempt to flee, you will not get another.

[He might have been a monster, but he was not completely foreign to the idea of earning more bees with honey than with vinegar.]

[ The panic with which she started to try kicking up a fuss near his tent told a story of what she thought he was bringing her there for. Plenty of lordlings believed themselves to be the gods' gift, so his promise of further rewards didn't mitigate the possibility. But when he pushed her down not into the tent, but onto a log, she stopped struggling against the rope.

It earned him a few moments of — not trust, not exactly, but patience. Willingness to see where this was going, as he bound her legs and changed her restraints out for something looser, more forgiving.

Rey rubbed at her arms where she could as soon as she had the room to, putting feeling back into them and considering the rope burns that the ordeal had left her with. She wasn't free. Not exactly. But she was in better circumstances than she had been.

He'd be a fool to think for a minute that one moment's restraint from cruelty would make her forget the rest. She grudgingly lifted her head to look at him. Despite the freedom in her hands, she wasn't wiping the dirt and sweat away yet. She'd grown used to it after a lifetime.

And she still didn't want to be chained to a log she couldn't drag. ]

I need to piss.

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