He let her speak. Whether it was from his mind slowed due to the kind of day it was, his attention being diverted elsewhere, or some sliver of his former self, even he was not sure. But he let her continue. And with each passing moment, Elena was causing Joel to regret the decision to allow her to do so. The bitch was haughty and overly proud, believing him to be less than he was. Perhaps she wouldn't know much, if all she heard were his activities that came after his fall. She could have simply had gold dangled in front of her face and told to hunt a marauder.... Even mentally referring to himself like that gave Joel a bit of a start. It had not even occurred to him that that was what he had become until just now. Someone truly had a dark sense of humor when they were drawing out the twisted strand that was his fate.<br/><br/>But before the fallen knight could continue anymore with this train of though -half lost in his mind and half listening to this assassin rave as if she was a shield maiden- Joel's attention was pulled back to reality to fully direct his attention to his captive. She had spit on him. Granted, it was simply his boot, but it was an act that Joel would not take kindly to. Before she could truly close her mouth after her final statement, the back of Joel's hand cracked hard across her face with enough force to throw her stomach first onto the ground. Immediately, his leg dropped, knee coming to an abrupt and momentarily painful rest on Elena's bound wrists. He only truly heard the first and the last things that she had said, but it was enough for him. "You are right. I have not conquered you... yet," Joel said. His hands moved down to his legs, undoing the straps for his greaves. He wanted better access for what was to come. "The laws on slavery are fickle in these parts. So despite your refusal, I may be able to pry something out of your form yet. Be it information or coin."<br/><br/>With the slabs of metal protecting his legs off to the side and the upper portion of his threadbare, almost burlap pants visible, Joel was sufficiently ready to conquer this bitch, whether she wished to believe it or not. While his true hand moved to the strings keeping the pants properly up, the accursed limb moved under his knee, grabbing hold of her wrists. The arm's grip was unnatural, as if the stone of it's palm had formed manacles around her already constricting bindings. Confident that even with the removal of his knee she would not move, Joel slid back, sliding back onto the back of her thighs. The flutter of fabric was the only sign Elena would receive that Joel was ready to properly 'conquer' her.