𝙒𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙎𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝘾𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙚 || a. skywalker

Chapter Thirteen: The First Time Being Tortured

Word Count: 1.4k

(tw) kidnapping and torture

Blurred images intertwined. Gruff echoes sounded from far off in the distance. Arya's head was propped up against something hard. Something metal. She shifted, and with a muffled groan, she stirred.

Her eyes fluttered open as she attempted to recall the events that had just transpired. The padawan moved to stretch her arms over her head, but she was met with the hot burn of friction. Chains, she thought. She must be restrained by the clamps on her wrists. Arya's mind swirled as dread pooled in the pit of her stomach.

Thoughts whirled around rampant in her head. Where was she? How did she get here? Where's Anakin? So many questions, yet there were no answers. She vaguely remembered being rendered unconscious in the woods, but even that seemed to fade into a blur.

Arya examined her surroundings, studying the dark room, it appeared to be underground...something like a cave. Stalactites shot up from the ground and hung from above. The only light was a far-off torch that hung from the side of the underground cave. From her training she knew the first step was to gather information from what was around her. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness that enveloped her and the padawan made out carvings along the cave walls. There were entrances and exits that could lead from this room to the woods or simply to another extension of her prison. 

A door creaked open, a whining scratch followed the hinges. Heavy footsteps sounded. A deep voice spoke, "My, my, what have we here?" Arya tensed. A man covered head to toe in cloth and leather garments appeared in her line of vision. A crooked smirk flooded his face. "Look's like they've caught a Jedi today." The man said, seemingly to himself. The padawan cocked her head, glaring at the man who seemed to know quite a bit more than she did. Arya wondered if she should speak up and ask him why she was captured, but she doubted that he would give her an answer. But what did she have to lose anyway? Nothing. "Why was I brought here?" It came out a genuine question. She was puzzled and she wanted answers. Everything in her life had been confusing so far. "Wouldn't you like to know little Jedi," he spat, reaching for her restraints. His reply left her even more confused. In fact, Arya thought it was impossible for someone to be more vague. She did not know who this man was or what kind of crazy gild he was a part of residing in a krifting cave, but she did know that whatever his people had planned for her was not going to be pretty.

She tensed as the man readjusted her chains. It was then that she was able to get a clear look at her capture. Red and navy blue war paint decorated his exposed skin. A flame was tattooed the the skin behind his left ear.

Arya was brought out of her thoughts as the restraints pulled tighter into her wrist, rubbing her skin raw with every shift of her body. She knew that she had to think. Think of a way to escape, and come up with a plan fast. Then a thought crossed her mind, what would Anakin do?  She had already shown her passive aggression, but maybe charm would get her what she wanted...a way out.

She knew that she had limited options, but she had to try, this time with a different approach. "Will you at least give me your name, if nothing else?"

A long pause.

"Drakeov." Came his response.

"Drakeov," Arya tested his name on her mouth. "Well Drakeov," she spoke, a sweet smile now gracing her lips, "I know you don't know me, and for some reason, you seem to dislike the Jedi; you don't have to do anything, but please - I just want to know where I am."

Drakeov sighed as he examined her. "How old are you young Jedi?"

"Seventeen," She replied.

The man lifted his hand to his forehead, rubbing the two together anxiously. "My daughter is around your age... just a wee bit younger I believe."

Arya nodded, encouraging him to continue. His eyes darted around the room, searching for something, or maybe someone. When he turned back, his gaze almost appeared fearful. Drakeov exhaled, "You are underground, in the tunnels that run under Naboo. I can't tell you where exactly, but you must go. There is-" he stopped suddenly at the echo of footsteps. When he spoke again his voice came out in a rushed whisper. He looked sympathetically at her. His eyes sparked with regret. "I'm sorry," was all he said before something punctured her skin and her eyes drifted shut.

With a sharp inhale Arya shot up. She clutched her hands to her chest and gazed around the dimly lit room. This was different. She was no longer in the cage, now her wrists and ankles were bound to a wooden pole. Arya's hands were tied behind her back and she shifted to test the restraints.

"Good, you are awake." The voice sounded deep, dark even.

Arya's eyes searched the room before finally landing on a figure reclining in a wooden oak chair.

"Who are y-"

The mysterious figure cut her off, waving a hand in dismissal, "No time for formalities little one."

The padawan scoffed, "I know I'm on the shorter side, but really? I'm nearly eighteen."

The cloaked man glared at her and in response, she rolled her eyes at him. Arya decided she preferred Drakeov over this hag before her. The man...or at least she thought he was a man, stood from his chair, stalking towards her like a lion ready to pounce. "This is how things are gonna work, Jedi. I speak you listen. I ask you a question and you respond. If you fail to supply me with the information I desire, I will ensure you suffer. Are we clear?"

Anakin's padawan bore her eyes into her captor's, a silent way of challenging his authority. Then a shrewd smile split across her mouth, "I'm not sure I got all that. Mind repeating it? Just try not to mumble this time."

A loud slap echoed. "Do not test my patience girl."

Arya reached to cradle her stinging cheek but the rope that bound her wrists prevented her from doing so. Her eyes instinctively began to water from the impact of the strike and she forced herself not to allow the tears to descend down her face. She, a Jedi in training, would look pathetic if she cried from a single slap...and she was not pathetic.

"You hit like a little girl." Arya spoke, something she nearly regretted as the man's fist met her stomach. She groaned in pain, head lulling to the side.

The man chuckled, "Don't start crying now, we've barely even begun."

Arya forced her head high, gazing directly into the deep black eyes of her captor. She reminded herself to endure. Endure for the Order, endure for Ahsoka, endure for her Master. The man smirked, "I'll take your silence as my prompt to continue." There was an eerie pause before he spoke next. "Where is Senator Amidala?"

Arya met his empty eyes. She didn't speak. These people had abducted her and Anakin to discover Padmé and it was her sworn duty to ensure the senator's safety.

"Nothing to say, child? We'll see to that."

Without warning he pivoted behind her, pulling a knife from his belt. Arya's captor glided the sliver blade down her arms, a jagged knife pulling apart the skin. She sucked in a shaped breath, eyes clamped shut to brace for the pain of each stroke. Arya had never been tortured. Sure she had her fair share of battle wounds and a bruised body, but it was never calculated torture. Despite the pain she forced herself to remain silent.

The man huffed, digging the blade deeper into her smooth skin. "What happened to Miss. Talkative?" He questioned, every word tantalizing with the prospect of relief.

Still, the girl was quiet. Anakin is here she told herself. He promised her they would escape and no doubt take down this whole assassination squad while they did so. She would make it out of here...or at least that's what she told herself.

A/N I'm sorry this took so long to upload, truthfully I forgot about this story but I plan on having another chapter up this week to make up for my absence.