inappropriately timed force bond moments (both nsfw and humor approaches)
dream-sharing
emotional bleed/transference (from rey, involving other parties)
inappropriate force bond voyeurism on rey/poe or rey/finn
mid-conversation force bond interruption
The Rise of Skywalker- Cross-galaxy chase of the Resistance
anything related to ben solo, but especially:
snoke confessionals with family or friends of family
returning to the light
smuggler life style
jedi knight ben
resistance-fighter ben
The Rise of Skywalker- Force Ghost communications w/ Rey
anything related to supreme leader kylo ren, but especially:
fall via coup
resistance fighter reconditioning (gen or nsfw)
force ghost visits from anakin/luke/rey/leia/snoke
defeat by the resistance, and subsequent aftermath
The Rise of Skywalker- Mole Discovery w/ Hux
canto bight:
shady weapons deals
picking up prisoners
recruitment
obligatory dinner party
general casino shenanigans
beach party
basically any reason you can think of to use canto bight as a setting piece
A note on romance: I will ship all of the new trilogy characters with Kylo Ren (except Snoke/Family). But I have no interest in exploring domestic-style takes on them. Thank you for understanding.
[She just had to speak up. Ren can’t help the angry grimance that crosses his expression when she speaks up again. This time, he lets her finish her quantification, but he very obviously doesn’t care for any of it.]
As you wish.
[The men don’t comment on his concession. Was he agreeing to choking her, or following her advice? It was impossible to tell, which was exactly how he intended it.
This time, he doesn’t get back on his mare. Instead, he wraps up the reins in his hand and marches forward. The others fall in formation around him and Rey.
They continue on until the sun begins to disappear and, sure enough, Ren diverts off the path. The men dismount to do the same. These pars of the woods were less known to him, but it was easy to spot a clearing at the top of a small hill. They just had to get up there. Most of the supplies make it up wihout issue, but the small cart on the horse doesn’t quite appreciate the incline. And so, Ren retreats to help his men get it up to the top in another rare display of charity.
He was too close to let something like making camp delay him. Everything gets set up much faster now that there are less of them and the more lavish of their supplies have been taken away. All of the knights are eager to dispose of their armor after a day of trapsing about in the Kingswood.]
[ Soreness spread through her legs as she started after him on foot, and suddenly, Rey felt endlessly grateful that he didn't try to put her back on that saddle. Even putting aside the shoulder injury that would probably ache with every cantering movement, her whole body was sore from just the ride. It was only just hitting her now that she was on her feet.
She could feel every bruise and blister, yet somehow her legs still felt like wobbly half-numb jelly. How could it hurt so much and feel tingly and numb? Every step, she tried to lengthen her strides, hoping that it would stretch her out and make the next day less painful. She'd still be sore, but maybe not as sore.
The others were obviously used to this. Trained knights. She'd always figured people from that sort of life must have a cushy existence. And they did, obviously. They weren't hurting for supplies or anything like that. Probably they'd get to Storm's End and easily be able to secure passage, never questioning. But there was some grit to them too.
Once Ren parted from her to help with the cart, it sank in how he just … kept going. Whatever plowed him forward, it was something stronger than money or honor.
Rey, unable to help with the cart, instead led the horses up, tied tandem to each other. For a moment, she thought of hopping on one and disappearing, but they'd have the other two, and they were better riders, and her arm was in a sling. She didn't even know how to steer one. How loyal were horses to their masters? She didn't know. Finding out would probably cost her the newfound freedom she had earned, and therefore her chance to cut Ren's throat in his sleep.
She patted the side of Ren's mare as she lead it upward. ]
Thanks for taking it easy on me. [ She said genially. ] You must be quite patient, putting up with him all the time.
[ She tied them as she had seen the men do the day before at the top of the hill. It was a good campsite that Ren had spotted. Well-positioned, hard to be snuck up on. By then the cart had made it to the top of the hill with her, and any hope of disappearing into the twilight was gone. ]
[Ren is almost surprised to find Rey at the top of the hill with the horses, evident by the way his eyes linger on her for just a touch too long. He turns away to help set up their meager camp. This evening is less eventful than the previous. Without the two instigators, the older knights are content to eat and sleep, with just a bit of drinking in moderation. Ren once again avoids partaking, instead choosing to sit outside of his tent and munch on a bit of jerky.
He doesn't bother to attempt to re-secure Rey. They would be taking shifts to make certain the bandits didn't sneak up on them again, and also to make sure Rey didn't try any funny business.
He's since changed, gone to relieve himself behind a tree, and is now making his way back to the group.]
[ While they all settled in, Rey kept her distance. She sat apart from the fire as though she were still chained to a log. She didn't want to give the impression that she meant to participate like she was here willingly. She wasn't one of them. She was their prisoner.
So she sat near the horses, back propped up against a tree, trying to ignore hunger because she didn't want to owe them anything or have Ren go on again about his charity. If they'd not taken her, she wouldn't need his charity. She'd be free and her arm would work and she could hunt for herself.
Ren returned from somewhere and his men retired to their shared tent. For a while longer, Rey kept her distance, but eventually she got hungry and made her way over to see what she could scrounge up from what they'd left behind at the fire. There's a bowl of something there, untouched. One of his men had likely left it for her.
It left her feeling weird to look at it, but not too weird to eat it.
While she shoveled it into her mouth (it was salty and tough, but ultimately edible), she watched Ren. Night had fallen completely by then, a dark cloak that shadowed everything beyond a few feet of the fire. His horse practically disappeared in the pitch.
[He'd been about to reach for the same book he'd been reading the previous evening when she poses her question. Ren glances up to meet her eyes, half-way between a frown as he tries to decide whether or not he wants to share the store.]
If you are hoping for an exciting war story, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you.
[Maybe that would be enough to chase her off from asking more questions. The wound was hardly anything to write home about and in fact was better off not discussed. Nobody ever really had the courage to ask after it before; with Ren's temper so well known and the wound such a clear sign of someone who had gotten an advantage, the answer was often deemed not worth it.
The King, however, loved to tell the story for him. It was one of his greatest victories, and one of Ren's greatest personal failures.]
[ Her reply didn't push, exactly, but it did corner him a little bit. If he'd meant to just sidestep it by dismissing her curiosity, he had failed by misattributing it. And yet … she regarded him more thoughtfully after he made that retort. She'd always been keen on hearing stories of bravery and honor. While she doubted whether his story had either, she had nonetheless revealed some of that eagerness, and he had noted it.
She went back to her food without putting further thought towards it, stirring it around for a moment. She usually ate with her right hand, but it was the one stuffed in a sling now. She had to be careful to balance the bowl between her right hand and her leg so that her less dextrous left hand didn't knock it around clumsily with the spoon. ]
And it'll be hard for you to disappoint me.
[ Seeing as she hated him. The bar was already so low. She arched her eyebrows meaningfully. If he didn't want people asking, he ought to wear his helmet or something. Surely he was used to it by now, right? It hardly seemed rude to ask with the way he flaunted it. ]
[For a time, it looks as if he's going to ignore her question. The book is open in his hands, pages occasionally turning while she struggles to eat. His eyes glance upward every now and then to make sure his focus is on their surroundings. After all, he wouldn't be much of a watchkeeper if those bandits were able to sneak up on them.]
A prisoner had called for trial by combat. I won.
[Simple. Easy. No details necessary. But he still fights with the urge to look up for a reaction. It was rare that anyone called for a Trial by Combat since King Snoke had taken the throne. With Ren has his champion, it was practically suicide.
But they had managed to cut him, in a moment of his own hesitation, when it came time for the killing blow. They had been horribly outmatched by Ren's strength -- it was nothing but a game to all who had come to witness.
And it was the first time he'd been able to see how the rest of the Kingdom looked at him.]
[ She shoveled the last spoonful of food into her mouth, then dropped the bowl into the dust. In too many ways being unshackled left her uneasy — like a guest and not a prisoner in their camp. Bound only by her own self preservation. To that end, her eyes scanned the trees as well. ]
Pity.
[ Maybe her life wouldn't have been better, had he lost. Maybe another would have just been in his place. Maybe even someone worse. Acknowledging there could be worse made her uncomfortable, though, because it left her in that odd position to acknowledge the ways in which he had been less than a monster. Not always. Just often enough to perplex her. ]
And the opponent? I'll be sure and name my next toast for him.
[That much, he was sure of. The opponent hadn't meant all that much to him, not like his father, but that didn't mean he wanted to talk about the affair. It felt a bit like a show horse being put on display, and it was a feeling he was looking forward to never experiencing again.
So he changes the subject:]
Speaking of that, I find your accent rather curious. You must not have spent many years in the south.
[He keeps his book open in his lap, though he had considered closing it for a moment. He isn't sure about being invited into conversation.]
[ The subject of her past drew an uneasy silence around them. She deserved it, she supposed., for the question she had asked. Strangely, it was the first time she felt like she had an advantage over him. If she wanted, there were many others in the world who could likely tell her the real story of how he'd gained that scar, and who he'd killed that gave it to him. Lord Commander Ren's life was a matter of public record because of the status he possessed.
If he were to try to find out the answer to why a Dornish girl had such a strange accent, a mixture of higher and lower class Riverlands layered over something oddly Dornish, only a handful could answer it, and no path between him and that information but her. ]
I live in the Saltpans. [ She offered it easily nonetheless. Hers is an unremarkable tale of unremarkable people. ] I'm working for Lord Plutt. When I've earned enough, I'll be able to return to Dorne.
[ And find her parents. The mother who had no doubt been heartbroken to lose her, and then maybe information about who her father had been. The way she said it was odd, though, in that it presumed when she was done here she would return to the Saltpans and her contract with Plutt. It was not that it had not occurred to her to solicit Ren for that return to Dorne after he had what he wanted from her — rather, she fully intended still to kill him before he got it. ]
[Ren raises an eyebrow. If she'd gone from Dorne to the Riverlands at a young age, it was impossible for him to imagine that she'd done so of her own accord. No, she was most definitely sold. He decides not to offer up that bit of insight.
Instead:]
Is that your aim? To return to Dorne?
[Now he closes his book and sets it aside in favor of folding his hands in his lap.]
[ The moment he said aside his book, Rey knew she'd made a mistake sharing even that much. She didn't want attention to fix on this point. Some part of her knew to be sparing in her examination of it, her mind warning her away from something painful. Returning to Dorne had always been a distant thing, a light on the horizon. Never a reality.
Getting too close to it is like getting too close to the sun, and it shines a light on something she doesn't really want to see. ]
Is it common practice for you to negotiate with your prisoners? [ Throwing it back on him would remedy the situation, she hoped. He'd be reminded that he didn't need to offer her anything, and they would both forget this conversation ever happened. ]
It is not a negotiation. It is an offer, which you may take or leave. You will be assisting us when we get to Essos. What you do after that, I can offer assistance with -- if you choose.
[Lord Ren spreads his hands, gesturing to show that he has nothing to hide. After all, he had quite an advantage over the situation. Whether or not she complied didn't actually matter -- he knew that he had to go to Essos somewhere. It would take longer, but he had a lead.
Why offer it at all, then? [ This was the suspicion of an orphan, of course. No lord had ever given her handouts. If he knew he'd get what he wanted from her either way, he had no reason to offer her anything. ] I haven't asked you for charity.
[ But she didn't understand why he told her that he would in the first place. For a long stretch of silence, Rey stared at him like she was studying someone truly alien. He might as well be a white-walker for how foreign and eldritch he is to her. He didn't navigate the world like other people did. And it wasn't because he was from a noble house, either. It was something else.
That he looked towards those tents to where his men took their rest only showed he knew it as well. He did not want them to hear this offer he made. Then why make it? She couldn't make sense of it.
It shouldn't have mattered — she would never take him up on it because he would be dead and she would find Skywalker and help him instead. And then House Organa would, in their gratitude, help her find her parents in Dorne, and she would not need anything from Kylo Ren. ]
You don't make sense.
[ She pointed out his contradictions rather than accept or decline. ]
You forsake some oaths and remember others, seemingly at random. You treat me like an animal, but offer me payment for being forced into helping you. You threatened to throw me to your men only to stop them from taking me.
[He digests the look that she gives him, but finds that it makes him uncomfortable and is forced to look back down at the fire. He stays quiet while he unpacks everything. When she lays it all out like that, he is forced to agree with her, though privately -- he doesn't make any sense.
But it was everything his instincts had told him to do. So he did it.]
Are you declining, then?
[Its a deflection in part, but equally honest as everything else he's offered in the past ten minutes. His eyes come up from the fire to rest back upon on her's, seeking more information.]
[ His offer was the closest she'd been to her parents since she'd arrived in the Saltpans. As much as she wanted to hold onto hope for Skywalker, she couldn't bring herself to close the door on her own family either.
For whatever it was worth, she came out of that decision disappointed with herself. Staring at her hands and debating a retraction. The words never made it past her lips, though. She couldn't form them. The right thing to do would be to refuse him and forget this had ever happened and to continue resenting him, but she couldn't deny herself that. ]
I'll keep it in mind.
[ And somehow, he had managed to evade giving her anything. Again. She realized it then. Still no idea why they hadn't gone to King's Landing. No idea why he was offering her help. No idea why he was the way he was at all, not even a clear picture of how he'd gotten that bloody scar.
She pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek, trying to bite down on comment, but ... well, he knew by now that she was bad at that. ]
Your men will reach King's Landing before morning. [ This she offered only because he had stopped them the night before, and for no other reason. Civility in turn for civility. ] Whatever you are hoping to avoid there will soon hear word of where we're heading.
It will not matter, so long as we are on a boat before the ravens fly.
[And if his tone is anything to judge by, that is what he is counting on. She isn't really owed that information, but he offers it anyway. If this journey is going to get any easier, he'll need to try and eek some cooperation out of her, even if she clearly does not want to give it to him.
He squints, looking deeper into her eyes to decipher why she had sought to advise him on the matter of their safety -- but he already knows the answer. Its not because of him, or any of his men, it is because her life depends on them earning safe passage.]
Puzzle after puzzle, with him. Rey surveyed him with greater interest now, searching his expression for some hint as to why the Lord Commander of the Redcloaks would be afraid to enter the capitol. If she could figure that out, she would gain something to bargain with. Some kind of power to leverage.
He had offered her this much, more than any time before. Maybe she was gaining, after all. Making headway. Or maybe she had simply chosen the right moment, in his exhaustion, when his men were gone. ]
Will we ride again tomorrow?
[ She already knew the answer, really, but she dreaded it. ]
[He nods easily, realizing that he might have given her a bit too much information. Really, there was nothing she could do with it -- her word against his own. But that doesn't mean he is thrilled that she has it.]
You should get some rest.
[The journey wasn't much farther, but that didn't mean it would be easy. She would need all of her strength. If the ravens beat them to Storm's End, there was a decent chance they'd all be arrested before they could even blink or react.]
[ He shouldn't have been telling her what to do like that, like her wellbeing mattered. But to him, at least for now, she supposed it did. That would be his weakness in the long run. It made sense then, finally, why he had offered it. If he could make her more amenable to him, if he offered something that she wanted, perhaps that would put them on equal footing.
After a long silence, Rey looked away from him. She moved in the direction of his tent, but stopped outside of it, making herself as comfortable as she could get just out front of it, as he had forced her to the night before. There were bruises in her throat from where he'd held her, and with a strained shoulder, she could hardly fight back if he decided to get in a temper about something inane that she had done wrong.
If a merciful king dragged them back to King's Landing, he might have let Rey live for being a prisoner, in exchange for her testimony of whatever Ren had planned to do. Whatever information she had to damn him with. She did not think Snoke was that kind of king. Sleep did not come easily, and when it finally came, it left tears on her cheeks for the unpleasant dreams that haunted her. ]
[The night went by without a hitch. At some point, Ren had disappeared into his tent to trade night's watch with one of his men. He wakes like clockwork to humidity in the air, and he can't help but wrinkle his nose slightly. Rain was the last thing they needed, especially if they were expecting to sail today.
But then, he supposed that was why they called it "Storm's End".
Ren's mare is pacing impatiently when he finally goes to retrieve her. They couldn't spare a moment. While his men pack up, he leads his mare over to wherever Rey has parked herself.]
[ Rey woke up in pain. Her legs and hips were stiff and sore from the day's ride before, as she had expected, and all the muscle fatigue left her especially groggy and slow to move. Still, she got herself up shortly after the men had already started moving, and when she did, she reluctantly moved to help one of them get the campsite packed up.
The muggy, thick quality to the air made the dirt caked on Rey feel heavier. Slows her down. And it makes her breath thick too, like she can't quite pull enough oxygen in. ]
No.
[ For a moment she looked at him like maybe she suspected he was fucking with her by even asking. Surely he knew that bastards didn't tour the bloody Seven Kingdoms. But, no, he could have easily been that deluded. ]
The caravan I rode with were heading this way. [ She had no love for slavers, but now it felt grotesque to be riding instead with the men who had slaughtered them like animals. Maybe she was bound to set on this course eventually.
She turned to look up at his mare like it was a mountain and rubbed at the back of her hip in consideration of her wounds. The worst part, though, was that she'd have to ask for help getting up because of the sling on her arm. She looked back at him then, uneasy and trying to avoid the admission while still … communicating that she's not going to be able to get up there herself. If he forced her to walk again, she'd almost prefer it. Her legs weren't going to get any less sore. ]
[Right. Slavers, gone to turn their cargo over to Slaver's Bay, perhaps. Something flickers in his expression, like he doesn't quite to do with this new information. Really, he hadn't thought much of the band they'd captured -- he was only there for one thing.]
I see.
[Ren nods away his discomfort in a display of understanding, refraining from comment for once. Unfortunately, he is not knowledgeable enough to know that walking would likely be less strenuous on her tired muscles and bones. So, silently, he offers her a hand with the intention of helping her up to the mare's back.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
As you wish.
[The men don’t comment on his concession. Was he agreeing to choking her, or following her advice? It was impossible to tell, which was exactly how he intended it.
This time, he doesn’t get back on his mare. Instead, he wraps up the reins in his hand and marches forward. The others fall in formation around him and Rey.
They continue on until the sun begins to disappear and, sure enough, Ren diverts off the path. The men dismount to do the same. These pars of the woods were less known to him, but it was easy to spot a clearing at the top of a small hill. They just had to get up there. Most of the supplies make it up wihout issue, but the small cart on the horse doesn’t quite appreciate the incline. And so, Ren retreats to help his men get it up to the top in another rare display of charity.
He was too close to let something like making camp delay him. Everything gets set up much faster now that there are less of them and the more lavish of their supplies have been taken away. All of the knights are eager to dispose of their armor after a day of trapsing about in the Kingswood.]
no subject
She could feel every bruise and blister, yet somehow her legs still felt like wobbly half-numb jelly. How could it hurt so much and feel tingly and numb? Every step, she tried to lengthen her strides, hoping that it would stretch her out and make the next day less painful. She'd still be sore, but maybe not as sore.
The others were obviously used to this. Trained knights. She'd always figured people from that sort of life must have a cushy existence. And they did, obviously. They weren't hurting for supplies or anything like that. Probably they'd get to Storm's End and easily be able to secure passage, never questioning. But there was some grit to them too.
Once Ren parted from her to help with the cart, it sank in how he just … kept going. Whatever plowed him forward, it was something stronger than money or honor.
Rey, unable to help with the cart, instead led the horses up, tied tandem to each other. For a moment, she thought of hopping on one and disappearing, but they'd have the other two, and they were better riders, and her arm was in a sling. She didn't even know how to steer one. How loyal were horses to their masters? She didn't know. Finding out would probably cost her the newfound freedom she had earned, and therefore her chance to cut Ren's throat in his sleep.
She patted the side of Ren's mare as she lead it upward. ]
Thanks for taking it easy on me. [ She said genially. ] You must be quite patient, putting up with him all the time.
[ She tied them as she had seen the men do the day before at the top of the hill. It was a good campsite that Ren had spotted. Well-positioned, hard to be snuck up on. By then the cart had made it to the top of the hill with her, and any hope of disappearing into the twilight was gone. ]
no subject
He doesn't bother to attempt to re-secure Rey. They would be taking shifts to make certain the bandits didn't sneak up on them again, and also to make sure Rey didn't try any funny business.
He's since changed, gone to relieve himself behind a tree, and is now making his way back to the group.]
I will take first watch.
[He nods to his companions by the fire.]
no subject
So she sat near the horses, back propped up against a tree, trying to ignore hunger because she didn't want to owe them anything or have Ren go on again about his charity. If they'd not taken her, she wouldn't need his charity. She'd be free and her arm would work and she could hunt for herself.
Ren returned from somewhere and his men retired to their shared tent. For a while longer, Rey kept her distance, but eventually she got hungry and made her way over to see what she could scrounge up from what they'd left behind at the fire. There's a bowl of something there, untouched. One of his men had likely left it for her.
It left her feeling weird to look at it, but not too weird to eat it.
While she shoveled it into her mouth (it was salty and tough, but ultimately edible), she watched Ren. Night had fallen completely by then, a dark cloak that shadowed everything beyond a few feet of the fire. His horse practically disappeared in the pitch.
She remained quiet for a while, but finally — ]
What happened to your face?
no subject
If you are hoping for an exciting war story, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint you.
[Maybe that would be enough to chase her off from asking more questions. The wound was hardly anything to write home about and in fact was better off not discussed. Nobody ever really had the courage to ask after it before; with Ren's temper so well known and the wound such a clear sign of someone who had gotten an advantage, the answer was often deemed not worth it.
The King, however, loved to tell the story for him. It was one of his greatest victories, and one of Ren's greatest personal failures.]
no subject
[ Her reply didn't push, exactly, but it did corner him a little bit. If he'd meant to just sidestep it by dismissing her curiosity, he had failed by misattributing it. And yet … she regarded him more thoughtfully after he made that retort. She'd always been keen on hearing stories of bravery and honor. While she doubted whether his story had either, she had nonetheless revealed some of that eagerness, and he had noted it.
She went back to her food without putting further thought towards it, stirring it around for a moment. She usually ate with her right hand, but it was the one stuffed in a sling now. She had to be careful to balance the bowl between her right hand and her leg so that her less dextrous left hand didn't knock it around clumsily with the spoon. ]
And it'll be hard for you to disappoint me.
[ Seeing as she hated him. The bar was already so low. She arched her eyebrows meaningfully. If he didn't want people asking, he ought to wear his helmet or something. Surely he was used to it by now, right? It hardly seemed rude to ask with the way he flaunted it. ]
no subject
A prisoner had called for trial by combat. I won.
[Simple. Easy. No details necessary. But he still fights with the urge to look up for a reaction. It was rare that anyone called for a Trial by Combat since King Snoke had taken the throne. With Ren has his champion, it was practically suicide.
But they had managed to cut him, in a moment of his own hesitation, when it came time for the killing blow. They had been horribly outmatched by Ren's strength -- it was nothing but a game to all who had come to witness.
And it was the first time he'd been able to see how the rest of the Kingdom looked at him.]
no subject
[ She shoveled the last spoonful of food into her mouth, then dropped the bowl into the dust. In too many ways being unshackled left her uneasy — like a guest and not a prisoner in their camp. Bound only by her own self preservation. To that end, her eyes scanned the trees as well. ]
Pity.
[ Maybe her life wouldn't have been better, had he lost. Maybe another would have just been in his place. Maybe even someone worse. Acknowledging there could be worse made her uncomfortable, though, because it left her in that odd position to acknowledge the ways in which he had been less than a monster. Not always. Just often enough to perplex her. ]
And the opponent? I'll be sure and name my next toast for him.
no subject
[That much, he was sure of. The opponent hadn't meant all that much to him, not like his father, but that didn't mean he wanted to talk about the affair. It felt a bit like a show horse being put on display, and it was a feeling he was looking forward to never experiencing again.
So he changes the subject:]
Speaking of that, I find your accent rather curious. You must not have spent many years in the south.
[He keeps his book open in his lap, though he had considered closing it for a moment. He isn't sure about being invited into conversation.]
no subject
If he were to try to find out the answer to why a Dornish girl had such a strange accent, a mixture of higher and lower class Riverlands layered over something oddly Dornish, only a handful could answer it, and no path between him and that information but her. ]
I live in the Saltpans. [ She offered it easily nonetheless. Hers is an unremarkable tale of unremarkable people. ] I'm working for Lord Plutt. When I've earned enough, I'll be able to return to Dorne.
[ And find her parents. The mother who had no doubt been heartbroken to lose her, and then maybe information about who her father had been. The way she said it was odd, though, in that it presumed when she was done here she would return to the Saltpans and her contract with Plutt. It was not that it had not occurred to her to solicit Ren for that return to Dorne after he had what he wanted from her — rather, she fully intended still to kill him before he got it. ]
no subject
Instead:]
Is that your aim? To return to Dorne?
[Now he closes his book and sets it aside in favor of folding his hands in his lap.]
You do not need Lord Plutt for such things.
no subject
Getting too close to it is like getting too close to the sun, and it shines a light on something she doesn't really want to see. ]
Is it common practice for you to negotiate with your prisoners? [ Throwing it back on him would remedy the situation, she hoped. He'd be reminded that he didn't need to offer her anything, and they would both forget this conversation ever happened. ]
no subject
[Lord Ren spreads his hands, gesturing to show that he has nothing to hide. After all, he had quite an advantage over the situation. Whether or not she complied didn't actually matter -- he knew that he had to go to Essos somewhere. It would take longer, but he had a lead.
And that was all he needed.]
no subject
no subject
[Ren's expression doesn't change, though he does glance toward the tents that hold his men.]
It is not charity. It is keeping my word.
no subject
That he looked towards those tents to where his men took their rest only showed he knew it as well. He did not want them to hear this offer he made. Then why make it? She couldn't make sense of it.
It shouldn't have mattered — she would never take him up on it because he would be dead and she would find Skywalker and help him instead. And then House Organa would, in their gratitude, help her find her parents in Dorne, and she would not need anything from Kylo Ren. ]
You don't make sense.
[ She pointed out his contradictions rather than accept or decline. ]
You forsake some oaths and remember others, seemingly at random. You treat me like an animal, but offer me payment for being forced into helping you. You threatened to throw me to your men only to stop them from taking me.
no subject
But it was everything his instincts had told him to do. So he did it.]
Are you declining, then?
[Its a deflection in part, but equally honest as everything else he's offered in the past ten minutes. His eyes come up from the fire to rest back upon on her's, seeking more information.]
no subject
[ His offer was the closest she'd been to her parents since she'd arrived in the Saltpans. As much as she wanted to hold onto hope for Skywalker, she couldn't bring herself to close the door on her own family either.
For whatever it was worth, she came out of that decision disappointed with herself. Staring at her hands and debating a retraction. The words never made it past her lips, though. She couldn't form them. The right thing to do would be to refuse him and forget this had ever happened and to continue resenting him, but she couldn't deny herself that. ]
I'll keep it in mind.
[ And somehow, he had managed to evade giving her anything. Again. She realized it then. Still no idea why they hadn't gone to King's Landing. No idea why he was offering her help. No idea why he was the way he was at all, not even a clear picture of how he'd gotten that bloody scar.
She pressed her tongue to the inside of her cheek, trying to bite down on comment, but ... well, he knew by now that she was bad at that. ]
Your men will reach King's Landing before morning. [ This she offered only because he had stopped them the night before, and for no other reason. Civility in turn for civility. ] Whatever you are hoping to avoid there will soon hear word of where we're heading.
no subject
[And if his tone is anything to judge by, that is what he is counting on. She isn't really owed that information, but he offers it anyway. If this journey is going to get any easier, he'll need to try and eek some cooperation out of her, even if she clearly does not want to give it to him.
He squints, looking deeper into her eyes to decipher why she had sought to advise him on the matter of their safety -- but he already knows the answer. Its not because of him, or any of his men, it is because her life depends on them earning safe passage.]
It is not much further to Storm's End.
no subject
Puzzle after puzzle, with him. Rey surveyed him with greater interest now, searching his expression for some hint as to why the Lord Commander of the Redcloaks would be afraid to enter the capitol. If she could figure that out, she would gain something to bargain with. Some kind of power to leverage.
He had offered her this much, more than any time before. Maybe she was gaining, after all. Making headway. Or maybe she had simply chosen the right moment, in his exhaustion, when his men were gone. ]
Will we ride again tomorrow?
[ She already knew the answer, really, but she dreaded it. ]
no subject
You should get some rest.
[The journey wasn't much farther, but that didn't mean it would be easy. She would need all of her strength. If the ravens beat them to Storm's End, there was a decent chance they'd all be arrested before they could even blink or react.]
no subject
After a long silence, Rey looked away from him. She moved in the direction of his tent, but stopped outside of it, making herself as comfortable as she could get just out front of it, as he had forced her to the night before. There were bruises in her throat from where he'd held her, and with a strained shoulder, she could hardly fight back if he decided to get in a temper about something inane that she had done wrong.
If a merciful king dragged them back to King's Landing, he might have let Rey live for being a prisoner, in exchange for her testimony of whatever Ren had planned to do. Whatever information she had to damn him with. She did not think Snoke was that kind of king. Sleep did not come easily, and when it finally came, it left tears on her cheeks for the unpleasant dreams that haunted her. ]
no subject
But then, he supposed that was why they called it "Storm's End".
Ren's mare is pacing impatiently when he finally goes to retrieve her. They couldn't spare a moment. While his men pack up, he leads his mare over to wherever Rey has parked herself.]
Have you been through Storm's End before?
no subject
The muggy, thick quality to the air made the dirt caked on Rey feel heavier. Slows her down. And it makes her breath thick too, like she can't quite pull enough oxygen in. ]
No.
[ For a moment she looked at him like maybe she suspected he was fucking with her by even asking. Surely he knew that bastards didn't tour the bloody Seven Kingdoms. But, no, he could have easily been that deluded. ]
The caravan I rode with were heading this way. [ She had no love for slavers, but now it felt grotesque to be riding instead with the men who had slaughtered them like animals. Maybe she was bound to set on this course eventually.
She turned to look up at his mare like it was a mountain and rubbed at the back of her hip in consideration of her wounds. The worst part, though, was that she'd have to ask for help getting up because of the sling on her arm. She looked back at him then, uneasy and trying to avoid the admission while still … communicating that she's not going to be able to get up there herself. If he forced her to walk again, she'd almost prefer it. Her legs weren't going to get any less sore. ]
no subject
I see.
[Ren nods away his discomfort in a display of understanding, refraining from comment for once. Unfortunately, he is not knowledgeable enough to know that walking would likely be less strenuous on her tired muscles and bones. So, silently, he offers her a hand with the intention of helping her up to the mare's back.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)