[ Bastila hears the commotion going on outside the room she has attempted to barricade herself in. She can hear the shouts, the name being shouted, but before that, she heard the sound of battle: screams, shouting, weapons clashing upon weapons, and she found herself standing still as though she had been riveted to the floor.
It is hardly becoming for her to be afraid, much less show that she is afraid, but as she remains the only one in the room, she does not try to hide the fear in her eyes. If Muad'Dib is coming, then nothing good comes for her. Of course he will have no reason to not fight her and then strike her down if he is able; and of course he is able, given who he is and the abilities he surely has. She is certain that all he will see is one of the Harkonnens at worst, and at best, a Harkonnen pawn complicit in their doings.
The footsteps approaching seem to grow louder, and Bastila feels her heart pounding faster in response. Either way, her doom seems to be growing closer, and she feels her hand tighten around the knife she holds.
Now she hears voices outside the door, as Muad'Dib gives orders, and she sees the door begin to move as it is pushed open from outside. She stands in the middle of the room, as still as before, but her gaze slowly travels to the figure striding towards her. If she dies here, she will join the rest of House Atreides, who have since perished. A fitting end, perhaps, as she is- was the ward of that house.
Muad'Dib is now standing in front of her, a few feet away. She sees the blue eyes staring at her from beneath the wrapping around his head and face. This is the prophesied figure, the one who brings change with him... change, war, chaos... So many things. He could bring about her death, but before that comes, she has already resolved to fight.
She snaps further to attention the moment that he barks out a command. Of course she recognizes it; it is a form of force, of attempting to bend the will of another into compliance. It is not the form of force that leaves no options, but it is still a forceful command. ]
Surrender? [ It is a risk, speaking back to this figure, this person who has begun to take the world by storm. Bastila straightens up to her full height, which is hardly anything at all, and yet she does so because she will not cower in fear. ] You will make certain that I live, and for what? To-
[ The pronouncement that she is from House Atreides gives her pause; she had not expected that, but she supposes it would not be difficult for someone to learn she is not one of the Harkonnens. She repeats his words again: ]
You will make certain that I live, to be a servant or a concubine.
[ Distaste is plain on her face, although the fear still remains in her eyes. She raises the knife in her hand, doing her best to steel her nerves and not appear afraid. ]
You speak of House Atreides, and you say fine words, but this could be a snare for the unsuspecting.
[ She doesn't lower her knife, because the last thing she intends to do is walk blindly into a trap. Never mind that she is already in one, as there is no escape from this room but the door Muad'Dib walked through.
Still, she surveys him, eyes taking in every inch that she can see. Something about him is familiar, but she can't quite determine what it is. Perhaps if he keeps talking, and begins to move... It is a fool's hope, in the end. The Atreides are dead. ]
no subject
It is hardly becoming for her to be afraid, much less show that she is afraid, but as she remains the only one in the room, she does not try to hide the fear in her eyes. If Muad'Dib is coming, then nothing good comes for her. Of course he will have no reason to not fight her and then strike her down if he is able; and of course he is able, given who he is and the abilities he surely has. She is certain that all he will see is one of the Harkonnens at worst, and at best, a Harkonnen pawn complicit in their doings.
The footsteps approaching seem to grow louder, and Bastila feels her heart pounding faster in response. Either way, her doom seems to be growing closer, and she feels her hand tighten around the knife she holds.
Now she hears voices outside the door, as Muad'Dib gives orders, and she sees the door begin to move as it is pushed open from outside. She stands in the middle of the room, as still as before, but her gaze slowly travels to the figure striding towards her. If she dies here, she will join the rest of House Atreides, who have since perished. A fitting end, perhaps, as she is- was the ward of that house.
Muad'Dib is now standing in front of her, a few feet away. She sees the blue eyes staring at her from beneath the wrapping around his head and face. This is the prophesied figure, the one who brings change with him... change, war, chaos... So many things. He could bring about her death, but before that comes, she has already resolved to fight.
She snaps further to attention the moment that he barks out a command. Of course she recognizes it; it is a form of force, of attempting to bend the will of another into compliance. It is not the form of force that leaves no options, but it is still a forceful command. ]
Surrender? [ It is a risk, speaking back to this figure, this person who has begun to take the world by storm. Bastila straightens up to her full height, which is hardly anything at all, and yet she does so because she will not cower in fear. ] You will make certain that I live, and for what? To-
[ The pronouncement that she is from House Atreides gives her pause; she had not expected that, but she supposes it would not be difficult for someone to learn she is not one of the Harkonnens. She repeats his words again: ]
You will make certain that I live, to be a servant or a concubine.
[ Distaste is plain on her face, although the fear still remains in her eyes. She raises the knife in her hand, doing her best to steel her nerves and not appear afraid. ]
You speak of House Atreides, and you say fine words, but this could be a snare for the unsuspecting.
[ She doesn't lower her knife, because the last thing she intends to do is walk blindly into a trap. Never mind that she is already in one, as there is no escape from this room but the door Muad'Dib walked through.
Still, she surveys him, eyes taking in every inch that she can see. Something about him is familiar, but she can't quite determine what it is. Perhaps if he keeps talking, and begins to move... It is a fool's hope, in the end. The Atreides are dead. ]