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[ 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.

[Kylo Ren pauses to give her a once over after she makes her declaration, then looks up over the log at the woods, and then back to her. She'd be an equal fool if she thought he'd give her more than he already gave.]

You will figure it out.

[And then he turned away from her to approach the fire. The rest of the Redcloaks were already joking among each other, comparing the women they had seen and taken along their previous stop while passing around a skin of mead. Lord Ren held up his hand when it came to be his turn.

None of his men took their vows seriously. Even Ren tended to balk -- but talk of women was never something he ever had much to contribute toward, and his men don't invite him into the conversation...no doubt because they've already learned what happens when they do.

Instead, he focused on the boar they'd begun to roast in his absence.]

[ Right. Food.

It smelled good, even from over here, but Rey's fight or flight response had been so pronounced that she only noticed once Ren headed that way. She lifted her head, looking after him, and — How long had it been since she'd eaten? Long enough that her stomach was making sounds. Didn't matter. They weren't going to feed her.

She tested the chain that bound her to the log, wondering at what point figuring it out got misconstrued (or properly construed) as an attempt to flee. She got to her feet and yanked and dragged and wheedled with the log for a while.

It budged marginally. She got it a few inches before she concluded that it would just as soon pull her shoulders out of the socket as actually get her closer to the tree line.

Great.

She slumped back down onto it, then propped herself against it, trying to find a comfortable position and ignore the strain put on her bladder by a day of dragging behind that prick's horse. She ought to sleep, really. Sleep now while Ren was out and keeping an eye on his men so when the Commander was asleep, she could keep an eye out. ]

[Dinner continued uninterrupted, and it wasn't long before most of the men were feeling the effects of the drink. They spent their time tossing scraps to the hounds, seeing how high they could get them to leap while they were still tethered. The forest filled with their cackling.

Ren, on the other hand, was headed back toward the tent. In his hand is a thick helping of fat, with some scraps of more savory meat mixed within. Not the best meal -- but enough to give her energy, and keep her from starving.

Whether or not he wanted to treat her nicely, he did still need to make an effort to earn his information. The boar is salted, and he's brought her no water.

Without waiting for a response, he leaves it on the log and disappears into his tent. Following that is the sound of him removing his armor, but he does not reemerge.]

[ She didn't pause to be surprised with his show of humanity when he left the meat behind on his way into his tent — instead, like a hungry animal, Rey just reached for it greedily. Some parts were such gristled fat that after some time sucking and gnawing she realized that she couldn't actually swallow it, and spat it aside. But she'd had worse meals in her life.

She'd had days with no meals, in her life.

But she finished the meat parched, her dirty fingers dirtier for the grease that made the soil and the tree rot stick to them. Only then did she pay attention to the fact that he had recused himself from his men.

Too good for them too, probably, she thought unkindly. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand, a useless gesture for neither her face nor her hand were any cleaner than the other. Eventually she gave up and found a way to wiggle her pants down, relieving herself in a shallow crevasse she dug on one side of the log.

If the men, distracted by playing with their dogs, caught glimpse of her bare ass, they didn't show it. She thanked the gods for that when she curled up on the other side of the log, struggling to get comfortable with the chains. She'd never slept in manacles before. She'd never committed a crime before.

He'd called her treasonous. That was a high crime. She'd be executed, for sure — no matter what he'd insinuated he'd offer her for turning on House Organa now. Gods, a craven and a turncoat. She rubbed her hands against her face and soon found that she had begun to cry, these thoughts closing in now that the twilight had passed and she tried to welcome sleep. She was left alone with the consequences of what she'd done.

Where the call of nature hadn't drawn the attention of Ren's men, her weeping seemed to. They nudged each other and some of their cackling quieted to muttering amongst them. ]

[Inside his tent, Ren spends his time running a grinding stone along his sword while Rey messily devours her meal. He can occasionally hear her struggle with the grizzle over the high pitched whine over steel, and he can't help but shake his head to himself. The smoke had irritated his eyes, and he was happy for the solitude.

Eventually, he sets the sword aside and peels the last of his chainmail off, intent on sleeping to get an early rise for the journey toward Essos tomorrow.

The light dies outside of his tent as his men extinguish the fire. The cackling dies down, and the muttering is too far for him to hear.

The two youngest, on the other hand, do not retreat with the others. They are too busy sizing Rey up from the other side of the camp. The shorter of the two glances around before choosing to approach her. He squats down and tilts his head, a leg bone still in his hand.

"Southern girl like you must be cold up here." he hisses, not quite low enough not to grab Ren's attention just a few feet away.]

Edited 2018-05-16 23:30 (UTC)

[ Like clockwork, she thought to herself as they approached. Rey straightened up instantly, and her shackles clinked in the ominous reminder of her compromising position as she settled into a sitting position against the side of the log, back straight. They did it again when she reached up to wipe her face where tears had streaked through the dirt. She didn't want them to see her. She wouldn't give them that.

Girls told stories about men like this: the honorable men of the Redcloaks who would save ladies and keep their oaths and kept the seven kingdoms safe, but they were just stories. There were no honorable men. Only beasts with well-polished armor.

Her head lolled up straight lazily to look up at him. They didn't have the keys. Ren did. They had nothing to offer her, no escape. Instinct and experience told her that if this got noisy or violent, she would be the one punished, but— She recalled the way Ren had roared them into silence. Maybe not. ]

Are you going to offer to keep me warm?

[ He wouldn't be the first to make precisely that comment. It was cold, in fact, but that was never the point. She held up her shackles. ]

I can't exactly come back to your tent with you, can I?

[ Not that she would. He swayed where he stood, full of drink and swaggering arrogance. ]

Guess you'll have to run along.

[Both of the men chuckled, and the man closest to her reached forward to push at the inside of her leg with the bone in his hand. "Who said anythin' about a tent? Thought you southern girls weren't s'posed to be shy."

Ren sat and listened inside of his tent, observing the way she chose to attempt a deescalation. She was smarter than he'd initially given her credit for. She'd never be able to overpower two armored knights on her own, even if she wasn't bound and tethered.

And were the knights not so drunk, they would not have dared move on her with him so nearby. Ren was a possessive man -- kills were his, prisoners were his, glory was his. Not their's.

But Ren never took women -- not that the youngest had seen, anyway. So maybe they weren't off-limits. That was the logic he imagined they must be employing as he slowly rose to his feet in preparation to chase them off.]

[ She had to bite down on her tongue to resist the urge to kick out at him like a mule. If she had proper use of her hands, if she had a weapon, they'd be dead men right now. For a moment she let herself entertain that fantasy. She pulled on the gruesome image they'd shown her earlier that day, the slavers being run through. Their blood had been brighter than she'd thought. Vermillion. Not like dark wine.

Would these Redcloaks' blood look darker with only the stars and the last embers of the fire to shine on it? Or like tar running?

If they weren't going to be dissuaded gently, she had only two other chances to dissuade them: violence (she would lose), and causing enough of a commotion to draw some of their comrades and hope that not all of them had forgotten their oaths. Better to take her chances than shut her eyes and take it.

Slowly, stiffly, she parted her knees. Her legs were sore after the day's walk and didn't want to move, and she'd never been with a man and had no interested in being with these men and she had no illusions as to whether they needed it to look appetizing. They were already bold to come over here. A gentle push and they'd act. ]

Do you know what else they say about Dornish girls?

[ Both of them looked too surprised to be suspicious of the sudden turn, or of the way her tone remained flat and lifeless as she asked it. Even foreboding. Instead the one braced his other hand on her thigh to keep them pried open and leaned in, as she nodded her head to beckon him.

His breath smelled like something dead. She'd thought the Redcloaks were the sons of lords and lordlings, but recalling Plutt, she supposed that didn't mean everything. ]

They're real animals.

[ And she lunged for him then, grabbing onto the front of his breastplate to hold him while she bit for his ear. The knight, of course, cried out in pain and threw her back into the log as he broke away, but she didn't let up, and she tore a piece of it away with her.

The blood looked like oil. She spat the piece of his ear and a mouthful of his blood out onto the forest floor while he shrieked like a girl, dropping the leg in his hand and clamping his palm to the side of his head. ]

If you think that's all I'll bite off, you have another thing — [ She didn't get to finish because his friend cracked her across the face and knocked her prone. In all fairness, she should have seen that coming. ]

[That is about the moment Ren emerges from his tent to observe the scene in front of him, impassive. She is knocked out, so he has no reservations about turning to the sprawled and screaming knights and kicking them as hard as his boots will allow to force them to scurry away.

"My lord--" they sputtered, gesturing to the ear that had been bitten, unable to believe that their Commander wasn't defending them.

Ren's voice is dangerously low and furious when he replies.]

You picked a fight with the intention of breaking your vows and lost. You are fortunate I don't rip that cloak off and strangle you with it. If a protector is what you need, it will be my pleasure to dump you at the foot of the Sept when we return to King's Landing. You can beg the Seven instead.

[He stomps his foot and the two scramble back to their tents in fear, leaving only himself and Rey. He couldn't help but exhale with some annoyance. He'd given his men too much credit.

And so, with some effort, he pushes the log closer to his tent -- just enough to allow the chain to reach, but not enough to allow her more than the barest inch of entrance into his tent. If this was how things were going to be, then she should at least be able to wake him. But he also doesn't trust her, so she's not going to be able to get close enough to touch or strike him.

Maybe now that she's been hit, she'll be forced to sleep. He doesn't voice that as he steps over her body with the intention of returning to sleep.]

[ Rey stirred blearily at the unintelligible sound of shouting. Her log was gone. Where had her log gone? She felt stupid calling it her log, but she was the one chained to it, so it was hers. She looked up and saw faint light coming out of Ren's tent. And then Ren himself, stepping over her.

She tensed, but only for a moment. He stayed upright, didn't crouch over her like the other had. Right. The others. They were … She looked and saw they had gone. A moment's unconsciousness had left her dazed. That meant she had a head wound. She touched her hands to her mouth and it came away bloody.

Great.

He'd stopped them from retaliating, then. She didn't thank him, but— ]

Wait.

[ She croaked it out, pushing herself up. She didn't know how to finish that, couldn't quite bring herself to ask for what she needed to ask for. She had her pride, after all. ]

I left my knife. [ She finally settled on that. ] By the tree where you found me. [ She was chained to a log and she was going to be half frozen in six hours and she'd barely eaten. Surely he couldn't be afraid that she'd come at him with it. If he was going to leave her out here … ] You could give me something that I could use to defend myself from your men.

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