“How much further?” Cassian whined. He scuffed his boots against the dusty road as he was forced to trudge on. They had only been travelling for an hour or two but he was bored already. Who could blame him when the only activity he had to occupy himself was kicking dust up from the path. By now the worn leather of his boots had been stained a dark orange from the dirt. 

“Stop complaining.” Came the gruff reply. That wasn’t the answer he had been looking for at all. Cassian let his displeasure be known, groaning loudly. Unsurprisingly, there was no reaction. Fine. Two could play at that game. Being an annoying prick was something Cassian had been accused of on multiple occasions. He always took it as a compliment regardless of the tone those accusations were delivered in. Gently, he tugged on the shackles around both of his wrists. They were attached to a short chain, which was hooked onto the belt of the man who had captured him. No reaction again. The man sat atop his horse, his back to Cassian, either not noticing or not caring. There was definitely space for two of them up there. Why should he be forced to walk along behind? Cassian tugged harder, wondering how much force it would take to pull this man off his steed. If he kept being ignored then his curiosity might get the better of him. 

“My feet hurt.” He whined again, pulling at his restraints to emphasise each word. Much to his annoyance the man didn’t even turn to look at him or make any move to stop his horse. Nope, he kept it trotting along at a steady pace, tugging Cassian along behind him. Cassian would have started dragging his feet if he didn’t think it would result in him being pulled along on his face. Although it seemed not even that would get this guy to turn and look at him. Maybe if he could rile him up a bit. Cassian glanced up, squinting his eyes against the sun as he examined his captor. The armour was the first noticeable thing about him. Was he some sort of soldier perhaps? From what Cassian could remember he didn’t have any noticeable insignia on his armour. He couldn’t be one of the King’s men. Was this just for fun then? Based on the fact that he had bothered to travel all this way to even hunt down Cassian, he supposed it was money he was after rather than for his own amusement. He had heard about the bounty on his head. All for a few mind tricks? It was comical to him. But back to the task at hand. Annoying this man into letting him go, or getting him close enough to trick him into letting him go. He began walking a little faster, so that now he could be alongside the horse instead of behind. Still the man didn’t even look down at him, his steely gaze focused on the horizon in front of them. 

“Why do you need the coin?” Cassian asked, trying to sound as innocent as he could. He gave another slight tug of his wrists, the metal was really starting to frustrate him now as it rubbed against his skin. If he hadn’t started squirming in the first place this probably wouldn’t have been an issue but it was too late to regret his previous actions now. He continued to stare up at the man, he could’ve sworn he’d seen his eyes dart sideways to glance at him but no audible response. Not yet anyways. “Seems like you travelled a long way, mister. A long way indeed just for little old me.” No signs of any confirmation or denial. That was fine, Cassian didn’t need anybody else’s help to maintain conversation. He was perfectly good at it on his own. He let out a low whistle. “I’ll assume that was a good guess then. You got a family, mister? Got people relying on you?” Finally, it seemed like he had struck a nerve. At the mention of family, the man’s head snapped round to glare down at him. His grip on the reins visibly tightened and he grit his teeth when he spoke. 

“Shut. Your. Mouth.” He growled, Cassian had to bite his lip to stop himself from smirking. He wasn’t that thick. An expression like that might tip this guy over the edge. A slight motion of the man’s legs had the horse up its pace to more of a canter, Cassian suddenly wasn’t finding this as amusing as before. Now he had to jog to keep up, which was difficult enough when he’d already been walking for so long and didn’t have full use of his arms. Not that this would deter him from his goal.     

“You doing this for them, sir? Is my head going to pay for your wife and children to have food on the table for supper? Are they really worth th-” A yelp escaped Cassian, interrupting his own sentence as a sudden jolt of the reins had the horse turning sharply. They were no longer on the path, heading off up a slight incline to what looked like a small hill. Pebbles and small stones littered the ground now, the dust and dirt underfoot having changed to more of a rocky surface now they were on less travelled ground. The horse was having no issues scaling this terrain, but Cassian couldn’t find any grip in his thin-soled boots. His feet scrambled beneath him, still jogging to try and keep up but it was in vain. On this surface he had no chance, he ended up tripping over himself and being dragged along behind the horse instead. It was upsetting to him that despite falling, he hadn’t managed to drag the man off his horse behind him. That would’ve made the scrapes and bruises he was now suffering worth it. 

When they finally reached the top of the hill after what seemed like an age but was most likely a minute or two, Cassian couldn’t bring himself to stand. They had stopped now, he didn’t see the point in wasting the energy. The chain his wrists were linked to was just long enough so that he could lie on his back with his arms raised over his head. He took a moment to glance down at himself, the knees of his trousers had been ripped to shreds. Blood stained the material that was left, and the grazes stung like hell. His stomach had a few nasty scrapes too, from when his shirt had rode up. Apart from that though, he was fine. The pain was temporary. That part seemed to have caught the attention of his captor too. Glaring down at him, still on top of the horse, but taking a clear interest in the injuries which were rapidly healing. Cassian let out a relieved sigh as the pain left him, giving himself a once over to make sure before wriggling his way into a sitting position. 

Sliding off the horse, the man scowled at him. Despite them both being on the ground he still had the height advantage, what with Cassian sitting down. His eyes were still scanning over the closed up wounds, a mixed reaction flashing across his face. Something close to confusion and… Distaste perhaps?

“Nobody mentioned… That.” He muttered in a gravelly tone. Clearly not a man of many words, Cassian couldn’t relate. He smiled proudly up at him.
“It’s pretty impressive isn’t it? Grazes and small cuts like that, they barely take any time at all! When it comes to more painful stuff like broken bones or stab wounds we’re talking closer to a few minutes at most, but it’s all worth it. My only personal complaint is the blood. Doesn’t seem to clean itself up at all, leaves me looking like I’m dressed as the victim from some sort of play!” He rambled on, he treated this particular attribute of his like it was a party trick. Which he supposed it was, he was certainly happy enough to show it off like one. 

No reply, yet again. Despite the fact he was getting used to it by now, Cassian was disappointed. Normally people were amazed when they saw his body repairing itself, they didn’t usually look at him in disgust. That was reserved for when he was repairing something such as a broken bone or something equally as gory. 

“Nothing?! You still have absolutely nothing to say after that?! I know it was only a few scrapes but they’ve healed perfectly, not a scratch left on m-” Yet again he was cut off mid-sentence, but this time it was due to being grabbed by the collar of his shirt. The sudden action had taken him by surprise. Cassian looked up at the man holding him, suddenly aware of how vulnerable he was even with his healing ability. He still felt pain. And he still didn’t have use of his hands. Although they were closer to each other now, he slowly began to move his hands towards the man while trying to be discreet. If he could just make contact with his skin, he could convince him to feel sorry for him. Sorry enough to get him out of the chains and be well on his way before the soldier even realised what had happened. He had gotten ahead of himself though, his actions hadn’t gone unnoticed and suddenly he was being dragged by his shirt collar, over to the sole tree that stood atop this hill. It was a huge tree, with a trunk as thick as at least three normal oaks. The trunk was now what Cassian found himself pinned against, the man’s fist still tightly holding him up by his collar and pressing him firmly against the rough bark. 

“Name.” He demanded quietly, leaning in close enough so that the younger man could feel his hot breath against his face. This was the first time Cassian had gotten a real look at him. His beard was thick, but not too long, just covering the bottom half of his face and not much more. Standard length for soldiers. His dark hair was matted and dirty, it gave off the impression that either he had been on the road for a week or so. Or he just didn’t care about his appearance. Both were plausible. He had been right about the armour, no insignia whatsoever. Which was strange. Most made it clear their allegiance to the King, unless they were working against him. Although this man seemed to be following King’s orders by capturing him. Now didn’t seem the right time to ask. Despite the dirt and other grime plastered on the man’s face, Cassian could just make out the scar that streaked right across his brow. His best guess would be from some sort of shortsword, clearly the man wasn’t a stranger to that sort of thing. Not based on the sword he had sheathed on his hip anyways. “Give me your name.” He demanded again, growing impatient. Cassian had been so distracted with analysing his captor that for once he had forgotten to speak. 

“Cassian. What’s yours? Look, I really think we got off on the wrong foot here, I think that perha-” Third time he had been cut off today. This was looking like it was going to be a new high score for him. This time it was a gloved hand clapping down over his mouth that muffled him.

“I’ve heard enough. You don’t need to know my name, you can stick to sir. And now I know about your little trick, next time you open your mouth I’ll be jamming my sword in it. We’ll see how quickly you recover from that, Cassian.” He spat his name like it left a bad taste in his  mouth. That was the most he’d heard this man say, and it was certainly convincing enough to keep him quiet. An injury like that would be agony, even if it was only temporary. After a few tense moments of looking into those steely grey eyes that regarded him with such disgust, the hand was removed from his mouth. Cassian stayed silent and watched the man as he unclipped the chain connecting them from around his waist. He dutifully followed as the man pulled him towards a hitching post, a few metres from the tree. The chain was securely attached and Cassian felt himself being pushed down into a sitting position, the post directly behind him. At least he could lean against it. He couldn’t move much more than that though, he had been left with an even shorter leash than before and could barely lift his shackled hands to his face before the chain was pulled taut. At least his arms hadn’t been trapped behind his back. Still wasn’t ideal, but he supposed that was the point.

Already forgetting the threat from before, he was about to make a comment about how the hitching post was meant for horses but it seemed the soldier had read his thoughts before he could utter a sound. A swift kick to his side reminded him, and he quickly shut his mouth again.

“Don’t even think about it. You said your feet hurt, so we’ve stopped. We’ll move again in the morning.” He murmured. The man clicked his tongue a few times, Cassian watched as the horse trotted over, the man beginning to pull supplies out of his saddlebag. Maybe this man wasn’t the coldhearted kidnapper he had first mistaken him for. Maybe. The threat was a stark reminder in his head of what he might still be capable of.