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iristhepladsen · 5 years ago

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Trust is a Two-Way Road Pt. 2

A/N: Not as much Mandalorian or Xola “screen time”, but be ready for that next time!!

Pairing: The Mandalorian x OC

Read Last Part here

Summary:

In which Xola recalls the distant past, and the Mandalorian learns not to judge by the looks.

Warnings: Nightmare

"This is a dream. This has to be a dream." Xola whispered, eyes sweeping over the green and blue horizon, colors, and details clearer than she'd ever recalled. Trees, trees she had only seen in books were towering over her head, reaching towards the heavens with ease.

Smiling, she walked as if in a daze, the staff slipping from her hand. She wouldn't need it anymore.

Feet crunching delightfully over the sticks and leaves, she felt a joy she had not felt since childhood: The simple delight of being and existing.

Running through the woods, her heart slammed against her ribs, sweat gathering on the crown of her head.

The further she ran, the darker the clouds turned, and before she knew it, she was running through the deep night.

"Xola, Xola!" The voice she never wanted to hear the scientist she knew all too well: Pershing.

"Please!"

The heart that had slammed from exertion beat into a steady and dangerous rhythm.

Where was the Mandalorian? Where was she? Arms enclosing around her, she struggled wildly, her palms sweating profusely.

"You have no idea how long and far I've been searching. And we...are together, again-"

Giving a sharp inhale, she felt the warm sun on the left side of her forehead. Sitting up slowly, she vainly opened and closed her eyes, hoping for color, a light...anything.

But as always, the swipe of color in the corner of her right, a thin and blurred light, greys and blacks choking her vision. That was all that was permitted now. She would never see a tree in its full glory.

"Mandalorian...?" She called out softly.

Hearing no answer, Xola reached for her staff and sat up, in search of the wash bin. Crouching beside it, she felt cool and clean water underneath her fingertips. Smiling at the kind gesture, she pat it over her face.

She could still hear...speak...taste, feel. Feeling a waterdrop slip down her throat, she absentmindedly wiped it away.

It didn't take away the pain of what once was.

"Good morning!" Hearing Omera's voice, she looked up with a pleasant smile. "You sleep well?"

"Better than I have in a long time."

"Excellent. I brought you a tray, but it may be a little cold."

"How...long have I slept?"

"I wanted to wake you...but, your ‘friend’ thought it was best you sleep as much as you can. It's late-day now."

"What?!" Springing up, she yelped in sharp pain as she ran a comb through her matted hair.

Through the confusion and toil of the past several day, she did not realize how much attention her hair needed.

"Oh, let me help! Winta! Get me some oil!"

Dragging a chair over, Omera helped Xola sit. After muttered curses from the both of them, Xola's matted and broken hair was fitted into a long sleek braid, tied neatly off with a cord.

"It should hold for two days. And, if you all stay longer, I'll teach you how to braid it. Do you know how to style hair?"

"Yes...I...just, haven't," Xola replied.

Giving a gentle tug at a hidden knot of hair, Omera smoothed it into a braid.

"In Sorgan, braids are a semblance of strength. Despite the hardships, difficulties, and failures...we will endure. And we will be all the stronger for it."

She hadn't felt the need to attire herself in any manner since the escape pod.

Walking through the village, Xola spent the rest of the afternoon practicing walking with the staff, Winta and a handful of children and villagers monitoring her progress.

"The Mandalorian and warrior have returned!"

Gathering with the crowd, she wondered where he was in the crowd of people.

"Bad news, you can't live here anymore." The Mandalorian curtly announced, leaving his listeners in a state of shock.

Eyes snapping to the direction of his voice, her forehead crinkled. He wasn't good at breaking the news softly.

"We-but we brought you out here, you-said you'd help us!" A villager spluttered in bewilderment.

"Yeah, until we found the prints of an AT-ST." The Mandalorian's stiff reply followed immediately after.

"Which you didn't tell us about!" Cara answered back.

Quiet, the villagers exchanged uneasy looks. Finally, one cleared their throat.

"There's 20 something of us, we can fight!"

"Yes! We all can." Omera replied.

"You don't understand. AT-ST has wiped out people who are more resilient than all of you." Crossing his arms, the Mandalorian's eyes flitted to Xola.

"Whole companies of soldiers! You couldn't possibly do it."

"What choice do we have? Because we aren't leaving." Omera firmly replied, eyes cold and level.

"We will fight." An elderly man croaked, standing as straight as his spine would allow.

"And...I will too." Xola murmured, her voice barely reaching her own ears.

A silence hung in the warm wind. Resignedly, the Mandalorian sighed, tiredness etched into his rigid posture.

"Who knows how to shoot a gun?" The Mandalorian asked.

Raising her hand, Xola felt curious eyes on her.

"Alright. Everyone, get into positions. We'll distribute weaponry." Cara shouted.

Passing rifles, guns, any ammunition within the cases, the Mandalorian assessed Xola's height as he searched for a suitable weapon.

"Were you taught before or after you were blinded?" The Mandalorian asked, handing her a blaster.

"After."

It was every man for themselves in the compound. And she'd be damned if she wouldn't know at least this. Placing it into her hands, the Mandalorian watched Xola hold and inspect it with ease.

"Safety?"

"It's there." Pinching her pointer finger in between his fingers, he lightly guided her to it. "Slide to the left to turn off the safety."

"If it is possible, I need a guide. Someone to help me aim. I know how to do the rest, including reloading and cleaning the weapon."

"Ok. Omera will team with you."

Working all throughout the next few days, few words were exchanged between anyone as they strove to cram every last instruction from the bounty hunter and soldier. Whether or not they were ready to defeat this, it mattered not. All that mattered was taking the desperate strategies and enact them. By the second day, they were ready.

As the red sun began to kiss the top of the trees, Xola wrapped her braid around her head, securing it with pins. Hearing one knock at the frame, she felt the Mandalorian's presence. Touching his breastplate for confirmation, she looked to where she was sure his helmet was.

"The sun is about to set, and we will be leaving soon. Prepare to fight. And, prepare for the worst." Tension clenched his words into a knot of hidden worry.

It could all go so very wrong, so quickly. Were they really prepared?

"We'll be ready," Xola promised with a firm nod. "And I'll see you soon, Mandalorian."

See him again. Finding his lips smiling at the irony of the whole situation, he inspected her face.

The tiredness and defeat were leaving her smile lines. Even in the middle of yet another life-or-death situation. What kind of life had she known?

Lips parting, her misty brown eyes blinked a few times as her expression stiffened. “Are you alright, Mandalorian?” “I’m-”

"Mando, you ready?" Cara asked, adjusting her weapons.

"Yeah. Let's go." Breaking his thoughts, the Mandalorian turned sharply on his heel. They had a job to do.

Taglist:

@that-phat-chic @angelcvsmic @p0wderedtoast @the-3rd-percent @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @sinon36 @tr1na @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @emoeba @itsafreakingtouque

(Please let me know if you want to be tagged, or if I missed your request!)

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iristhepladsen · 5 years ago

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Hey doll! I absolutely love your fanfic “another day”! You’re such a phenomenal writer ❤️ Could I be tagged in it?

Thanks so much! I really appreciate the feedback, thank you! :D Will absolutely tag you in it! <3

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iristhepladsen · 5 years ago

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Masterlist

Hello, this is for new readers! If you don’t want to scroll through your likes or my tumblr, this is a good way to keep up with my story! I will reblog this every now and again for anyone searching for the story.

Now, a fair forewarning.

When I say slow burn, I mean slow burn.

If you refer to my previous writing project (Sherlock always has my heart), it took around 4ish installments for them.

Relationships aren’t easy, especially when you’re both traveling through space together as well as complex and separate paths. Two people who’ve had a lot of shit happening over their lifespan.

If you’re into stories that require a little bit of patience and investment, this will be the series for you! And, here is the list. :)

Another Day, Another Bounty

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Trust is a Two-Way Road

Chapter One

Chapter Two

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iristhepladsen · 5 years ago

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Trust is a Two-Way Road Pt. 1

Pairing: The Mandalorian x OC

Read Last Part here, Next part here

Summary:

In which the Mandalorian and Xola learn that trust is not granted, but earned.

Warnings: None

A/N: This is now the exploration of the thing we all find the most difficult in our relations. Whether you have known them three days of three decades, trust does not come easily to the best of us. Especially to those whose literal job is not trusting a soul, and the other betrayed one too many times. I am going to enjoy unfurling this important facet of a relationship, please stay tuned!

It was friendlier than any place that Xola had been in a long, long time. Although there were kind words and soft interactions, the compound lifestyle had not exactly been the easiest of places. Her position as a translator of the Jawa dialect had allowed her the luxury of hot water allowance, vegetables, and the occasional fruit instead of constantly eating freeze-dried rations, but this was different. A hot broth with a sharp yet deliciously spiced drink. A friendly waitress with easy-going chatter surrounding her.

"I...can pay you back." She offered.

"No thank you."

"I don't like to be indebted, Mandalorian." Taking another sip of the thin broth, she rubbed her neck. "Just give me time to think of how I might be able to."

"I understand."

There was not much to interact with. She understood, she did. It was as new to him as it was for her.

From their interactions, it was glaringly obvious that he had not spent much time with people. She was curious if he had friends within his clan. People he had met here and there that he befriended. Were there lovers amongst his acquaintance?

"The broth. How is it?"

Shaken from her thoughts, she nodded.

"It's very nice. I'd offer you some but..." Huffing an uncomfortable laugh, she motioned vaguely in his direction. "I hope that you're finding times to look after yourself, even when I am...here."

"I do." Pausing, she felt a tension rise in the air. "Stay here."

"What?"

Hearing his chair scrape, his shadow had fled.

"Mandalorian?"

Looking amongst the shapes and hues of brown and grey, she could not make out his shape.

He had said stay. But, could she? What if the Mandalorian was leaving her on the planet with no means?

"No...I trust him." Xola whispered.

But, she didn't. She didn't trust him. She didn't trust anyone in particular.

Rising, she made her way to the brightest light source, indicating the presence of an exit. Breath rising and falling, she looked around, ears straining for the sound of the engines of The Crest.

Hearing a warrior's yell, she ran in that direction. What happened?

"No, stop!! Stop!"

Feeling a weapon push into her neck, Xola stepped back.

"What are you doing?" Xola snapped. "Stop!"

"Could ask you two the same." Hearing a woman reply haughtily as Xola's hands raised slowly.

"You don't need to do that," Cara sighed. "I won't hurt you. Or him."

"You want soup?" The Mandalorian offered hesitantly.

"Yeah."

As they walked back, he guided Xola in the right direction with a touch between her shoulder blades.

"Why didn't you stay?"

Because I was afraid you were about to leave me behind, never to return.

"I was worried for you." She lied. "I'm glad you're alright, however. Who is she?"

"A former soldier."

After they resettled down, Xola relieved that her food had not been cleared away yet, Cara put her drink down with a firm clink.

"How'd you get here?"

"Just laying low. Ex-shock trooper, getting into things here and there...look, you're a bounty hunter. Thought you had a fob on me, that's why I fought you."

"I get it." He replied with a nod.

"So...why're you two here?"

"Laying low."

"Unless you want to go another round, you'll have to lay low somewhere else. One of us is going to move on, and I was here first." Finishing her drink, Cara made her exit.

No longer hungry, Xola took a tentative sip of the lukewarm broth before rising.

"Well...planets taken." The Mandalorian replied.

Feeling along the floor with her foot, she made her way to the brightest light in the room. Hearing the Mandalorian walking behind her, she felt disappointment settle in hard.

"Where are we in the galactic system?"

"Sorgan is on the southern outer rim."

Eyes downcast, her hand absentmindedly drifted to where her cloak once rested. This was the only quiet planet in the area. Could they risk traveling to a place with a higher population density?

"We'll leave at dawn, but first, I need to make a repair on the Crest."

"Can I help?"

"Sure."

Switching on the power light, he removed part of the outer grating.

"What does the sky look like right now?" Xola asked, holding out the wrench for him.

"Dark, cloudy."

"The sun must set fast here then." Xola replied, crouching on the ground.

"Another medium bolt?" Freezing, she sat up slowly.

In the distance, was the sound of a machine of some sort.

"They're okay. Don't worry."

***

"And so...we will be going to 'nowhere', to deal with some local bullies."

"Pretty much. Stay, and get some things. Find the first aid, the blanket, and the yellow-no, the heavier rectangle like box that is right next to the hangar door. We're leaving as soon as I get back."

"Okay. And, where are you going?" Xola called out to his disappearing voice.

"To get a friend."

Walking up the hangar, she knelt to the ground, feeling for the rectangle box. There was a lever, a leather-like sack...feeling the cold and metallic box, she picked it up, accidentally hitting her head against the corner of the hangar.

"Damn!" She hissed, rubbing her forehead.

"You alright lady?" One of the men cautiously called out.

"Yeah, yeah. Just...load that, will you?"

After a considerable amount of time, the items were all successfully located and on the cart.

Sitting, she waited for the rest of the company. Once the cart dipped temporarily in weight, she knew it was time to go.

As the cart began its slow and steady space, she stared out into the dingy air.

"...It's nothing an ex-shock trooper can't handle." The Mandalorian was saying.

"Or a Mandalorian. And, what are you?" Cara asked, jerking her head at Xola.

"A...I worked on the warships."

"Which side?"

Should she say? It was hard to know who stood where these days.

"The New Republic."

"...We all end up the same, don't we? Some New Republic this is turning out to be." Cara remarked, bitterness lining her voice.

"We all do the best that we can do," Xola responded.

"And sometimes, our best just isn't good enough." Cara yawned, stretching out.

Tell me about it. Xola silently agreed.

Had I just made it to that escape pod...would I even be in this mess?

Feeling the Mandalorian's eyes sharply on her, she absentmindedly wiped the sweat at the back of her neck with her hand.

"Anything on your mind?" Xola found herself asking him.

"I..." Faltering, he shifted down. "Is your head okay?"

"Hm? Yes, it's fine. Is there a bump?"

"Yeah. But if you're not hurting too much..." Fingers ghosting on her temple, they returned promptly to the Mandalorian's side.

"Better settle in. It's a long ride."

"Mhm." Xola hummed in reply.

Whatever he wanted to say, wasn't going to be vocalized. It seemed that he'd never say what he really thought of anything.

Feeling a tired irritation, Xola leaned into a corner of the cart, grimacing at the splinters pressing into her tailbone.

Closing her eyes, she imagined herself in the compound. The sound of echoing metal, the familiarity of every cough, cry, and snarky Jawa tongue that passed through those corridors. The ease of moving from room to room within the metallic walls. Five years in one place would grant the steady rhythm of a safe lifestyle, albeit a boring one. The coming and going of the refugees, feeling that she was the only permanent resident. Only to be ripped away. Registering a thin blanket of some sort being draped across her legs and stomach, she squirmed further into the cart, trying miserably to ignore the sound of the low murmurs of the men above her.

"You think they can pull it off?"

"It's a Mandalorian and a veteran. If they can't...well...we got no choice, now do we?"

The next thing Xola knew, the Mandalorian was shaking her shoulder.

"Wake up."

Breathing in the warm and humid air and the feeling of the soft morning sun kissing her eyelashes, the sound of children laughing, and the sloshing of water, Xola's feet cautiously sank into the moist earth.

"I brought them!" The villager shouted.

Crowding the three, the chattering grew to a near frenzy as the anxious inhabitants eyed the trio, dubious wonder filling their features.

"You must be exhausted," A woman broke in, hand resting on Xola's shoulder. "Come this way."

Letting herself be led, the woman who introduced herself as Omera showed them to a small barn.

"We don't get many visitors...I'm sorry, but this is all we can offer for you two."

"You're most generous. Thank you." The Mandalorian said, looking around.

"Blankets are over there, and a washbasin at the door."

"Thank you." Xola said, smiling in her direction.

Hearing her footsteps walk away, she picked up the soft and old smelling blankets, folding it out to be a bed.

"It's been a long few days. You should get more rest." The Mandalorian said, forming his bed across the room.

"No...if it's alright, I want to walk around. I feel that I haven't walked around for a long time."

"Your nasal bone is broken, and...you..."

"Trust me. A walk will do me better than a nap ever could."

"There...there are a lot of ponds. You'll fall in."

"Not if someone is there to guide me. Or, if I had a stick of some sort."

"I can't guide you now. But...soon."

"Alright."

After an hour or so, the Mandalorian frowned. Someone was watching. Blaster at the ready, he whirled, producing a panicked cry from a young girl. Seeing the child, his shoulders relaxed, the blaster slowly landing at his side.

"This is my daughter, Winta." Omera warmly interjected, placing her hands on her child's shoulders.

"This nice man is going to get rid of the bad men. We'll be safe." Omera murmured comfortingly to her daughter.

"Nice to meet you." Xola said, the Mandalorian giving her a nod.

Glancing nervously at them, Winta clenched her mother's skirts as her voice began in a soft whisper.

"Sir, I wanted to know if I could show that...I don't know your name, I'm sorry. But I want to show 'her' the village. We'll stay in the village, won't go into the forest, I swear it. Can I show her around?"

"I don't think-"

"It'd be wonderful," Xola interjected. "Please do."

"Um, I-don't think..."

Turning his direction, Xola smiled.

"I'll be fine. I will see you shortly."

Hand raised reluctantly, the Mandalorian craned his neck to catch a glimpse of Xola and the girl scampering out, a nervous yet delighted grin on the child's face.

"She'll be fine. Don't worry." Omera assured him. "We take good care of people here."

***

It felt liberating, in a way, being seperate from the Mandalorian. Some people hated humidity, the way it made their hair puff up, the fabric clenching onto the small of the back, the near suffocating weight of moisture in the air. To Xola, it was as welcome as the first warmth that springtime brings. From the cold and recycled ship air, and the dry emptiness of the compound, the vitality of the humidness was welcome.

Cooking over the fire, Xola was delighted to hear that the fish were, in fact, a cornflower and turquoise color.

From sun up to sundown, the villagers would approach Xola and Winta for an inquisitive glance or remark.

After spending what seemed hours in the village baths, Omera joined the townswomen.

"The time!" She called out.

"Girls, get dried off and go home, I know there were some mothers and fathers looking for you!" Scampering off, the girls all whispered their goodbyes, leaving the women to enjoy the serene stillness in the bath.

"Xola, are you doing alright today?" Omera spoke up.

"Yes." Eyes crinkling, Xola ran her hand across the water's gentle surface. "It's a lovely place. And a shame that it's being seized."

A tension resonated within the house as the recent events remained an open gash in their hearts. When it had been silent for some time, Omera sighed, piling her long hair atop her head.

"Well, it is our home, and beautiful. Anything that is of value in this galaxy must be protected and cherished. And by your 'friends' being here...we are in great debt to you all."

"We will help in any way we can." Xola found herself promising. Frowning, she pulled herself out of the stone tub.

"What time is it?"

"The sunset nearly two hours ago." Someone mentioned, mirth in their voice.

"I had better retire. Thank you all!"

"Oh, do you need someone to help you get back?" Omera asked, beginning to rise.

"No, no! I know the way. Enjoy your time, and thank you!"

Hastily dressing, she squeezed the water out of her hair as she was introduced into the cold and humid air. Shivering, she rubbed her arms as she felt her way along the walls. How did the cold come so quickly?

Knocking cautiously on the barn door, she felt for the glass and threaded beads on the gate, affirming that she had reached the correct residence.

"Mandalorian...?" Cautiously poking her head in, she awaited confirmation.

In the nighttime, shadows, shapes, or any light was impossible. Just the empty and still ebony of night.

"I'm here." Hearing his voice on the opposite side, she walked in his direction. "Enjoy yourself?"

"Yeah. Very much. And you?"

"Yeah."

At the irony in his tone, she raised an eyebrow slightly.

"Work cut out for you?"

"In a matter of speaking."

"Then, you should try and rest, Mandalorian."

Hearing the slight clinking of Beskar, she sensed anxiety over this idea coursing through his spine.

"If you're worried, I will listen for the sounds of an ambush, so you can sleep. You need to. I mean, I am assuming you're human of some sort? But, maybe you can't tell me that."

She assumed he was human, but one could never really tell by appearances, making her least qualified to confirm this.

"Tomorrow, I will be gone for a long time." He said, the sound of footsteps approaching her. Feeling a crude wooden stick being pressed into her palms, she leaned back instinctively. "You'll need this."

"A rod?" She queried, rising.

"Try it out."

Holding it out, she noticed he had shaped the length for her height, even the weight. Locating the wicker chair, the door frame, and even his calf, she felt a relieved sigh escape her. She hadn't realized just how much she had missed this assistance.

"Thank you..."

Xola had known he watched her struggle, even more so with the loss of her rod. But, making her one so she might be free to wander on her own. It was a kind notion.

"Now I can have something sturdy to beat people with, if the need arises," Xola said dryly, giving it a light pat.

Hearing a huff under the modulator, she tilted her head at him.

"Was that a cough or a chuckle?"

"Your guess."

Hearing rustling, she knew he was under the covers.

Finding her way to her bed, she lay the staff on the floor, slipping underneath the soft bedding. Tucking the blanket under her chin, she stared out into the darkness, not even shadows or colors present.

Settling, Xola felt excitement buzz from her toes to her hair as she held the staff feeling the weight of it press down.

"Do you sleep every night with the helmet on?"

"Not usually."

"Isn't it uncomfortable?"

"Yes."

"Then...why don't you take it off?"

"I can't."

"I've heard a bit about Mandalorians. Here and there. But...I don't understand."

"We are one. One face. Anonymity is a crucial aspect of Mandalore. This is the Way."

"I can't see you. At all. All I know is your armor is some sort of brown color."

"It's silver."

"Oh. Well...point taken. I can't see. I am sure it'd be fine."

Hearing him sigh tiredly, Xola chagrined. She was keeping him from blessed rest.

"I'm looking at the wall."

"No. Other way."

Turning she reached out, fingers brushing the old wood walls.

"I'm about to sleep. So after I am...why don't you take it off? You might get an awful crick in your neck if you keep it on even when you're sleeping."

"Goodnight." Was all she got.

"Goodnight."

Pulling the blankets over her head, she felt a gentle breeze brush through the room.

"If you covered the door and that small window in the barn, if you slept like that, it wouldn't be as risky!"

"Xola-" He began, irritation fighting its way into his tone.

"-I know, no more, good luck tomorrow, wishing you the best, goodnight!"

"Goodnight, Xola." He retorted, a slight exasperation in his tone.

"Goodnight."

Fighting the strange urge to chuckle, she felt the weight of sleep press down lightly on her thin eyelids, the gentle rustling of the bed covers across the room lulling her into a dreamless sleep.

Tag List:

@tr1na

@kaelyn-lobrutto24

@sinon36

@angelcvsmic

@the-3rd-percent

@p0wderedtoast

(Let me know if you want to be tagged, or if I missed your request!)

83 notes · View notes

iristhepladsen · 6 years ago

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Could you tag me in Another day please?

Absolutely! 😊

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iristhepladsen · 6 years ago

Note

Can you tag me in Another Day,Another Bounty?

Absolutely! 😊

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iristhepladsen · 6 years ago

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Hi.... I was wondering if you could add me to the tag list please? Thank you!

Sure thing! 😌

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iristhepladsen · 6 years ago

Text

Another Day, Another Bounty Pt. 4

A/N Here with another chapter-not my favorite one that I’ve written (Not sure if it’s because I’ve been staring at this chapter for too long) But more is coming soon! Warning: Abuse, physical harm, violence

Taglist: @angelcvsmic

Read Last Chapter Here, Next Chapter Here

Lowering slowly to the landing dock, noticeable darkness passed over Xola's features as she stoically gripped the arm of the chair. Flipping off the switches, the Mandalorian rose. "Let's go." He said, ignoring the heaviness in the back of his throat. Opening the hangar door, he watched Xola step down, listening to their surroundings, breathing in the dusty air. As her foot caught on the odd ridge between the ship and ground, the Mandalorian caught her arms, steadying her. "Careful." The irony did not escape either of their minds. If she tripped and fell, what would it matter? Her life would be over, come daybreak. Moving away from him, she smoothed out her cloak and begin to walk briskly. Walking through the port, he maneuvered their way through the coming and going jets and planes, Entering into the city, the Mandalorian felt quiet eyes on their backs, a certain glint in a bystander's eye...they knew. Pulling the cloak over her head, his arm went around her shoulder, guiding her forward.

Turning into an alleyway after alleyway, they stood at the back door of the client. Pushing the entry button, he flashed his ID chip at the droid. Apprehensively, Xola's pinky strayed back to the embroidered lily. Door hissing open, the marching of Stormtroopers rang in Xola's ears. Hand remaining on her shoulder, the Mandalorian guided her in, an element of gentleness to his touch. Instinctively leaning closer to the Mandalorian, Xola stiffened as the hand on her shoulder was replaced with a fist around her bicep. "Easy." The Mandalorian spoke tersely. "You take it easy!" He snapped back, jerking her arm for good measure. Rising from his desk, the client held the tracker in front of Xola, who was leaning apprehensively away. "Yes...yes, yes, yes." Gripping her chin, he smiled. Eyes narrowing, the Mandalorian observed the exchange worldlessly. The scientist rushing in, he swallowed nervously, fumbling as he pulled out a red light. Shining it in her eyes, Xola squinted confusedly, arching her neck away.

"Xola." The scientist whispered, reverence in his tone. Lips parting slightly, she struggled and squirmed from the grip on her chin. "Alright...hurry then." The scientist murmured, the stormtroopers marching Xola forward. Brushing past Xola, the Mandalorian stared at the case of Beskar. The last time he'd lain eyes on such an amount was...years ago, it felt. "You really are the best of your kind. Then...your reward. You've earned it." Eyes drifting to Xola, he watched her being marched away, out of his arm's reach. As if she could feel his gaze, she looked his direction, before she disappeared behind the door. "Such a small price, for...such a small package. But, to the winner, the prize goes." "You sent out more than one tracking fob." "It was most crucial that Xola arrived. Alive or...otherwise." Taking the case, he paused. "The girl. What are you going to do?"

Smiling humorlessly, he clicked his tongue as he slid him the case pointedly. "How most peculiar for one of your kind. May I remind you, that our contract has now ended. No questions asked. Is that not the code of your guild?" Resisting the urge to look at the door once more, he found himself escorted out by the Stormtroopers. The Armorer didn't ask questions, like usual, just wanting the vertebrae of an issue. Thanks to her interference, and fighting a natural beast, his armor had lost its integrity. "The enemy helped you? Why?" "I...she didn't...fully realize." He found himself saying. But she had. Xola had known from the start. Then why the bandage, staying beside him after the Jawa attack? Why did she save him? "Then, whistling birds." His armorer said after a pause. "That will do nicely." ***

Finding himself sitting across from Greef, he felt the eyes of every bounty hunter digging into his back. "How many had tracking fobs?" "All of them!" Greef boomed. "All of them, and yet, you were the one to bring her in!" "Her?" He echoed. "Word travels fast, Mando. Now, what can I do for my most valued partner? There are some fine medicinal baths to attend, which I'm sure you'd enjoy." "I'd like my next job." "You-Mando, come now! You've earned time off. Enjoy your earnings, you've certainly worked enough for at least a few days rest!" "I want...my next...job." The Mandalorian reiterated. "Right. You, bounty hunters, enjoy keeping busy. Well, take your pick, you've earned it. I must warn you, they are quite far." "The further, the better." Turning on a fob, he analyzed the information. "Nobleman jumping bail, all the way in the oceanic ridge. That is as far as you could be." "I'll take it." Snatching it, he pushed himself up. "Excellent, I expect a good capture!" Turning his back to Greef, he closed his eyes. Xola.

"What do you think they'll do with her." "Her?" "The girl." "I didn't ask." Tone growing in severity, Greef eyed him warningly. "It's against the guild code." When he made no response, Greef motioned to the bar. "Buy a keg here. Go on your mission. By the time I see you again, you will have forgotten all about it." And that was his job, to forget. Forget everyone and everything he came into contact with. Marching onto his ship, he sat down, hurriedly flipping the switches. He couldn't stand being on the planet a moment more. As he pushed the controller forward, the handle top fell off to the floor with a loud thud. He had forgotten to screw the knob on securely last night. Reprimanding himself, he reached down to grab it, his gloved knuckles brushing against a paper. Pausing, he picked that up gently and turned it over in his hands. A common oily paper that was transformed into a paper bird, each line made neatly, precisely, and gracefully. Her eyes. Something he could not place. Not quite fear, and not quite giving up. A look of innocence, yet a wisdom that exceeded her years. Yet...still something."Sadly, we will never know the story." The droids words regurgitated in his head.

"No," he muttered. "I'm leaving."

Hand hovering over the initiator, he slammed it off.

"Damn it."

***

Rifle set up, he adjusted the listening fob, catching garbled words and feedback.

"I don't care what. You cannot manifest the energy. Harvest what you can. Once you get forty percent, that is all we need. Annihilate it straight afterward."

"But, no, we can still send her-"

"-There is not enough resource. I suggest you hurry, as I can no longer assure you safety. Afterward, burn the 'leftovers'."

Switching off the listening fob, he slid down the piping along the walls. He didn't have much time to listen to their schemes.

Brushing alongside the walls, the Mandalorian paused by the rubbish bin. Hand on the top of it, he peered inside, an all too familiar article of clothing laying amongst the metal scraps and bloody cloths. Picking it up, he turned it a few times. The yellow lilies were spattered in filth and a little blood. She was punched somewhere in the face, the cloak was pulled so hard it had ripped from her body. Feeling unappeasable anger that settled in his stomach, he slammed it back into the bin.

It didn't take him long to break inside the safehouse, and within minutes, he was shooting down the panel to the laboratory door.

Watching a droid approach her with a large needle, he shot it down, then aiming the blaster at the scientist who was cowering behind a barrel.

"Please, please don't hurt her! Xola never did anything wrong, please, she's done nothing, please leave her alone!"

Wearing a thin and terribly torn grey top, it was instantly obvious that she had struggled, dried blood and a nasty bruise over her right cheek, a grey metal strap securing her to the table.

Face an ashen color, he noticed a tube of some sort in her arm. Pulling it out, he looked at the bag that was feeding her body the vile liquid. A sedative.

"What did you do?" He asked, raising the blaster higher. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, nothing! I saved her! If it wasn't for me, she'd be in the dumpster by now, please don't hurt her! She-she is so precious to me!"

Precious? Brow furrowing, he felt disgust sweep over him.

As he muttered "please" over and over again, the Mandalorian pulled out his grey sack. He didn't have long. Scooping her inside it, he rushed out.

It was time to make their escape.

By three minutes, the distress signal would come, bringing all the hunters his way. As the beeping from the fobs echoed throughout the near-silent city, his hand drifted near his rifle, setting it to disintegrate. Make that one minute. As he reached the threshold of the landing bay, he watched Greef solemnly stand in the very center of his way, cronies flanking all sides. No clean escapes after all. "Let me pass," he warned. "You put the girl down, and I might let you." "She is coming with me." "No, she isn't Mando. Is that a real life for her, wandering around like a fugitive with a cold-blooded killer?" Intimidation through doubt. The Mandalorian knew this tactic well. Grip tightening slightly, he stood his ground. "She is coming with me." He repeated.

"If you truly care about her, you'll put her down. The New Republic will take her into custody, and she'll be fine." "How do I know I can trust you?" As if he ever could. "Because I am your only hope." Firing a shot, he tossed himself into the cart, pinning Xola to the ground. "Drive!" He snarled, aiming his blaster at the droid. When the droid shook back and forth, he loaded it. "Drive!" Driving forward, he fired shot after shot. When his luck ran out and the droid was destroyed, the Mandalorian ducked behind barrels. "Here's what's going to happen! I am walking onto the ship, with the girl, and you're going to let it happen!" He shouted. "No, here's what's happening. We will kill you, take the girl, and strip your body for parts!" When someone made a stabbing motion, he used the last of his fuel, shooting flames in their direction. When it ran out, he crawled further into the maze of crates. Blaster after blaster fired out, red lights bursting through the sky.

And so, they would not have made it out in the end. And, he could not save Xola. Lowering the grey cloth from her face, he lowered his head further, hand on the side of her neck. His hand curled around her head, as if that could shield her from the inevitable firing. Maybe if he had left left her, the scientist would have rescued her.

At the deep bruising on her cheek and swollen eye, he closed his eyes briefly. No.

No matter what the scientist had said, she was as good as dead there. As good as dead here. And now, they would die together.

All he wanted was to protect her. But now, they would die, just as his own parents had.

Eye-opening blearily, she dazedly groaned, the pain obvious in her features. "Mandalorian. You...came back?" "Yeah." He replied, his voice barely above a whisper. Eye closing again, the sedation regained its fierce grip. Holding her close, his hand remained on his blaster as the movement grew closer and louder. Hearing a loud roaring from the air, he glanced up to see...helmets. His brethren and sisters had come, redeeming him from his errors. This was the way. Picking her up, he ran through the crossfire, trusting. They would not let him fall. Scrambling onto the ship, he heard a small creak. Watching Greef step into the limelight, he solemnly watched his old employer.

"I didn't want it to come to this, Mando. But you're leaving me with little choice." Without hesitation, he initiated the carbon freeze, a puff of dry ice coming loose. In the confusion, he shot Greef in the chest, watching his body tumble out. Hurriedly, he flipped the generators on, sending the ship in the air. And with that, they made their escape. Once they were out of immediate danger, he tentatively set it to autopilot. Climbing down the ladder once more, he opened the resting bay door. Setting Xola on the cot, he rummaged on the panel overhead for spare clothing. Finding a worn undershirt that he used for his armor, he tentatively sat her up, he head resting against his shoulder plate. Sliding the material over her head, he pulled her arms through the long sleeves, and laid her back down. He would need to provide more sufficient clothing later. Opening the carbon, he pulled an ice package from his extra carbon holder. Walking a few paces to her resting area, he placed it over her cheek.

At least it would help with relief and swelling, though he was near certain her nasal brone was broken. Tucking the thick creme blanket around her, he closed the panel door, returning to the pilot's deck. Turning to the control panel, he resumed the pilot status. What did he just do? What would he continue to do? He had no idea. Finding a quiet planet, for starters. But after that, what? Her entire life was displaced in the span of three days. Hearing the faint sound of the panel door opening, he returned it to pilot mode, scaling down the ladder. Feeling along the wall, the Mandalorian watched her look around in dazed confusion.

"Hello...?" "It's me." Lips parting, she swallowed thickly as she reached him, shivering in the cold ship. He had forgotten how cold other people felt on his ship. "I...thought I hallucinated that you had come back." "You didn't." "Why? Why help me?" "This is the Way." As she pondered his words, he put his hand on her shoulder. "You've lost a lot of strength, you should rest more." Guiding her back to the cot, he watched her settle uncertainly on the creaky cot. "Here, wipe your face." Handing her a dampened cloth, he watched her dab her face, flinching at the sharp pain from her nose. "What is your name?" She asked. Silent, he kept his eyes on their course. His name...it was not something he had uttered to even himself in many years. "Call me what you'd like."

"I'm not good with nicknames..." Sinking back on the cot, Xola seemed lost in thought. "Perhaps...just Mandalorian." "Fine by me." Feeling around, Xola gasped slightly. "What's wrong?" "My cloak...my cloak, where is it?" She asked, her voice raising slightly. "It's gone." Exhaling sharply, her fingers absently drifted to where the flowers once were. "Yes...it is, isn't it?" "Did you make it?" He asked, curiosity getting the better out of them. "Every petal." A bitterness in her eyes, Xola's hand moved to her side. "...What happens next?" "Quiet. We'll find a quiet planet to stretch our legs out for a few months. Sound good?" "Yeah. I'd like that." At the thought of rest, sleeping, and safety, Xola could not help but feel the stirring of something she had rarely had before. Hope.

"Mandalorian," She called out as his boots were fading away. "Thank you." When he began to nod, he chastised himself inwardly, replacing that motion with: "Yeah. I'll wake you for food." Leaning back, he looked at the chart. Low population density, unheard of, small. A nice backwater planet. "Then, Sorgan." Safety.

#mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #baby yoda #yoda #mandalorian #mandalorian x oc #starwars #fanfiction #fanfic #reader #love #dyn jarren #dyn jarren x reader #mandalorian x you #mando #pedro pascal #blind character #blind reader #headcanon

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iristhepladsen · 6 years ago

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Another Day, Another Bounty Pt.3

A/N: Finals are over, and I am officially on Winter Break. This means, more time for Mandalorian. :)

Last Chapter here

Next Chapter here

Warning: Violence

The only sound between them was the angry, dry, and loud wind that rustled her hair and cloak, sand finding every way to invade her eyelids. At an attempt to block the sand, she yanked the cloak over her head and eyes.

And then...nothing. No wind, or angry sand. Just the gentle fluttering of his cape, and his steady breathing.

"There's nothing else you can do?" Xola asked, dread in her stomach.

"No."

Arriving, he stopped suddenly, listening to the quiet desert.

Nothing. Looking at the cave, he opened the latch for his blaster.

"Stay here."

Hands once again straying to her cloak, he noticed that was her nervous tick. When she was scared, it would go to the lily embroidery. Uncertain, the rose. Concerned or embarrassed, the rainbow fringes. He was surprised they didn't have holes or wear the way she tugged at her cloak constantly.

"I will be back." He found himself saying. "Soon."

As if that would help assuage her fear.

"Mhm." Nodding, she took a step back and waited, biting her top lip gently.

With the slight clank of his armor, he was going further and further from her.

A shadowy yet greenish sensation crossed her eyes as she felt the hot dry winds. She smelled warm manure like mud and another scent. One that she was not used to, yet a smell she could never erase. The scent of bloodlust. Hearing a blaster fire, she strained for indication of life. Was he alright? Whatever was in there...was that alright?

Hearing running and a loud thumping noise, she looked in all directions. The Mandalorian was fighting, clashing, and struggling. When she heard a painful impact of Beskar and wild beast, a cry escaped from her.

"Oh!"

Hearing the running go faster and louder, she realized: It was running to her. Body jerking, she fell to the ground and rolled once, twice, three times. It took her a moment to realize that it was not the beast, but the pacemaker.

Hearing another sharp cry from The Mandalorian, she felt her heart twinge painfully, a painful feeling growing in her chest.

He ripped her from the compound, dragged her on and on through the desert, no rest, with only powdered water for nourishment. He was giving her back to the people she tried her damnest to escape. He was sending her to her certain death. But...she did not want him to hurt.

Xola was so tired of people hurting...because of her.

Feeling that uncomfortable surge that she constantly, constantly held away, her hands trembled as she reached out, concentrating.

The destroying creature...the one that must have hurt and killed many...so many. Lips parting, she concentrated her energy on the darkest presence, her eyes trained on the large shadow rushing across the terrain, ready to destroy the Mandalorian.

Feeling her hands and ribs pulsing, she thrust her hands out. Vision spotty with black dots, hues of red, yellow, and blue flooded her vision. It was as if she could see a puzzle, with many pieces missing.

A flash of silver covered in filth and tattered cape, a struggling ugly beast-was it a Mudhorn?

The first time in five years she could see...and it was a sight she'd rather have never seen at all. Kneeling resignedly in the mud, he looked at her, his helmet tilted slightly in what seemed to be confusion.

Body convulsing, she felt her head grow light, and her arms weary, a wave of nausea filling her. Falling into the cold and somewhat comfortable mud, she fell into an exhausted sleep, her eyes straining to soak in the last bit of vision.

Live...please, live.

***

Adjusting her weight on his shoulder, he felt her diaphragm seemed to be working harder than it needed to be, her face pale and eyelashes seemingly darker than usual. Nevertheless, she was alive.

Hitching the egg higher on his opposite arm, he tried to quicken his pace. His parts were waiting, and the clock was ticking.

Urgency heightened as he saw the Jawa's fortress slowly carrying away. If they didn't stop and give him his parts...he would give them full and unrestrained hell.

However, it did not come to that, and as promised, his parts were received. After strapping them in tightly, with a curse against Jawas on his lips, they made the arduous trek across the desert.

Wiping some of the mud off her face and hands, he noticed her breathing was more even and deep as if she was in a peaceful sleep. Perhaps that meant she was at least sleeping well.

But...what was that?

"Is she still sleeping?"

"Yes."

"Please, explain once more to me, I do not know if I understand."

"Neither do I. Had you seen her do this before?"

"No. Never. When she first came here, I couldn't understand why she was dropped here. This place certainly isn't where she belongs. She belongs somewhere peaceful, quiet, beautiful. Not where hardened convicts go." Nodding thoughtfully, he added: "It makes me wonder what she did to deserve this fate."

Arriving at the ruins of his ship, he rummaged in the cart for the cot they had stolen from his emergency kit. Locating it in the very center, he set it up, laying Xola down on it.

"It will go faster if you pitch a hand!"

All night they slaved on the ship, the finite details, the metal sheets against the exterior, every minuscule yet crucial wire set up. And at long last, it was complete.

After near pleading with him to join his crew, it grew evident that Kuiil would not.

"Then...all I can offer is my thanks."

"No, thank you." Mounting his steed, he waved goodbye.

"And good luck with the girl. May she survive, and bring you a handsome reward!"

Nodding, he shut the hangar. Her body on the floor, he began their flight away. As they flew through the galaxy, occasionally he would lean down and shake her arm. And not once did she stir from sleep.

As they drew closer and closer, he saw that Greef had sent a transmission. Crackling and somewhat distorted, he listened to the blueish hologram.

"You did it! I knew you could Mando. This means a big reward, big credit. You've earned at least a month off. Listen, whether he wants her as a sex slave, or to burn her alive, I could care less! There is money in this! Hurry, he is getting antsy by the minute."

Switching it off, he cautiously glanced back at Xola. Eyes drifting open, her hands had found some greasy paper he had used for oiling one of the engines. Turning it slowly in her hands, she sat up dazedly.

"How...long was I asleep?"

"Eighteen hours."

Sitting up, her body felt tired and a little weak. Shakily, she felt around, finding a leather seat. Easing onto it, her hands folded the paper. Listening to the steady whirring of the engine and the clicking of the controls, she gave a relieved smile. At least he wouldn't be in the desert forever.

"You fixed the ship."

"Yes." He replied, looking out into the horizon.

As time pressed forward, Xola's arms grew stiff, her legs pressed tightly together. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, he chastised himself. Of course, she'd need to use the facility.

"Down the ladder, first door panel on the left."

Nodding, she ruefully rose, hands feeling along the walls. Hearing a beeping from down below her, she crouched on the floor, feeling for where the ladder would be.

Feet cautiously descending, she felt for a panel on the left. Putting her eye to the wall she could make out a green button. Pushing it, the entire ship gave a shudder, causing her to clutch the ladder for support.

Within twenty seconds, he was by her side.

"Any funny business and the pacemaker goes to 1." Slamming the panel open, he added: "Don't do that."

"I'm sorry...I thought it was the button for the facility. It was...was it green?" She apologized, her neck flushing.

Waving a hand in front of her eye and back and forth, he watched her eyes grow confused. Her eyes weren't cloudy at all, in fact, a dark brown.

All the stumbling, no reactions to attacks, her sitting by his side after his fall. She was vision-less.

"You wouldn't know." He finally said. "Ladder is six steps away, come up after."

His planet was coming closer and closer into view. Beginning the descent, he punched in the shield code.

Hearing the descent, she glanced down at her cloak.

"May...may I leave the cloak here?"

"No. All bounty must bring their personal items with them." He flatly replied, his voice sharp.

Eyes widening slightly at the tone change, she shifted in her seat.

"Of course."

As the plane continued, she shifted once more in her seat. Not out of discomfort or bodily needs. But a deep and resonating dread.

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iristhepladsen · 6 years ago

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Update coming your way soon!

It’s written, it’s ready, I just need to upload.

#because finals #and family #and christmas break is literally tomorrow #star wars #mandalorian x oc

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iristhepladsen · 6 years ago

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Another Day, Another Bounty (Pt. 2)

Chapter One: here

Warning: None?

A few hours later, they found themselves in the camp of Kuiil.

"I thought you died." Looking over at her, Kuiil's face melted to one of deep concern and near anger.

"Xola?"

"Kuiil?" She asked, looking around.

Climbing quickly down the ladder, Kuiil began approaching them. Raising his rifle warningly, the Mandalorian watched him.

"I won't interfere with a Mandalorian." Kuiil curtly stated. "So you can put your weapon away."

Taking her hand in his, he checked for injuries, her eyes staring blankly back at him.

"I am sorry."

Looking down at the ground, Xola shook her head.

"It is time I met the inevitable. Too many people after me to where one of them wouldn't catch me." Squeezing his hand briefly, they returned to her side. "Thank you. For all of your help."

Sighing, he returned his attention to the Mandalorian.

"And why have you returned?"

"Jawas ransacked my ship. It's destroyed."

"No, not destroyed. Jawas don't destroy, they need to sell."

"Destroyed, ransacked, it makes no difference."

Eyes staring out into the distance, she seemed contemplative to his words.

"Trading." She said. "You need to trade with the Jawas."

"Trade?" Turning back to Xola, the Mandalorian shook his head.

"With Jawas, are you out of your mind?"

"If you have something you can trade, you can get all your things back, without an issue." She pressed on.

"That is if he has anything of good," Kuiil remarked.

"Don't you think you should at least try?"

He didn't like it. It was a trap. There was no other reason why she would propose this. Maybe Kuiil and Xola were working together so she might make her escape. But she was with him the whole time, no communication devices. Kuiil had a face of a deep surprise to see the bounty.

All he could think of was: Why would she want to help?

"Where do we go then?" He asked, the edges of his voice growing in tiredness.

Boarding the rickety metal carrier, the Mandalorian and Xola sat in the cart, Kuiil taking them further into the desert. Lightning crashed all around them, rain pouring non-stop in the near-black landscape.

As the hours pressed forward, he watched her huddle in the sudden coldness of the desert, her cloak wrapped tightly around herself.

"You know the old man." He said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Yes. He would trade parts at the compound, or help fix things." She replied shortly.

Looking down, Xola's fingers intertwined with her cloak fringe. "He is also very kind. And loyal. And helpful, maybe even when he shouldn't be."

Her voice almost angry, her eyes drifted out into the black and rainy night.

He didn't enjoy dragging people into his world, not in the least. Taking their arms and delivering them to stormtroopers and men with suspicious plots.

Maybe now, even more. But, he had a bounty to deliver, and credits and beskar to collect.

"That won't help you." He said, his voice containing an edge of forced chilliness.

"No." Pulling her hood lower over her eyes, she leaned against the cold metal. "Nothing will."

Daybreak rising, the Mandalorian slowly awoke to watch the red sun. Curled into a fetal position, the girl slept on. Peering at her face, her cheeks were starting to peel from the sun, dark circles growing evident on her face.

"The journey must be hard for her. She hasn't stepped outside the compound in five years." Kuiil replied, driving on.

In other circumstances, would she have been happy to have had the sun on her face for the first time in so long?

As the Jawas grew louder, Xola woke up with a jerk. Eyes blearily opening, she sat up slowly.

"Jawas."

"These are my parts. To trade for something that already belongs to me." He grumbled, stepping off the cart.

"You need to understand and accept that right now, they are not. You'll also need to remove your weapons."

"I cannot. Weapons are a part of my religion."

"Then, you don't get your parts."

Hesitating, he watched the sunburned figure looking in his direction, her disconcerting gaze watching the center of his armor.

Shaking his head, he shrugged off his rifle.

"And, your blaster."

Hesitating, he slammed that under a canvas bag.

No doubt they'd steal that too.

"You'll have to forgive me, my Jawa dialect has grown rusty from time to time. But, I can give a summary of the tradings." Kuiil was apologizing as the Jawas approached. A hand reaching out and grabbing Xola's cloak, she gasped and jerked back. In an instant, the Mandalorian's rifle was at the ready.

"This doesn't belong to you! Please, stealing from someone who is still warm and living! We are trading soon, so just sit still and wait!" It seemed that these miserable creatures were the ones to receive her underlying rage.

"...But, it seems your asset speaks it very well. Where did you learn to speak?" Kuiil asked in surprise.

"From...many times." She replied, finger swiping over a lily on her cloak.

"Then. Translate for us...please." The Mandalorian requested.

Giving a short nod, her feet felt for the ground underneath. Hands feeling the air, she strained to hear the distant squabbling amongst the Jawas.

"They...remember you." She told the Mandalorian, whom she could assume was on her side.

"Well. I did disintegrate a few of them." He replied shortly, eliciting a quiet huff of a smile from her.

Watching Xola smile, the Mandalorian felt something. Something he hadn't felt in a long, long time.

Guilt.

When they reached the rug, she slowly sank down, hands touching the worn carpet.

"The Mandalorian would like his parts back," She began. "What are you willing to take?"

Listening, she reached out, her hand touching his chest plate.

"Your beskar."

"No, not that."

After speaking and listening more, her body stiffened as she formed her next words.

"We could use a translator. We will take her." She replied, anxiety slipping into her tones.

When they reached for her, he stuck a hand in front of her, thinking of the thirty-four ways he could end their lives.

"Get away from her! Something else!" He almost spat out.

"What else indeed, you tin scrap." They jeered.

He understood that sentence.

"The-these my part! No take! No trade! My!" Desperately stumbling in the language, the Mandalorian noticed Xola openly wincing at his poor attempt.

"Haha, you talk like a Wookie, we barely understand you. Just leave it to the girl!"

"Yeah? You understand this?" Anger mounting, he thrust his hand forward, fire blazing from the tube under his armor.

"Mandalorian!" Grabbing his arm, he immediately stopped the fire. "Do you want the parts or not?!" Voice raising sternly, her brows pulled into a glare.

Listening to her reasoning, he lowered his arm. He usually could handle mockery and jeering. Why not now?

"Yes."

"Then. Patience, cunningness. Flattery."

Lowering his arm to his side, he kept his head low in contrition. Turning back to the conversation, Xola twisted a fringe around her finger.

"Please. Anything, anything else?" Xola asked.

It seemed there wasn't anything the Mandalorian could or wanted to give.

Head raising, a Jawa seemed struck with a brilliant idea.

"Egg! Egg! Egg!" They cheered, jumping up and down.

"Egg?" Blinking, Xola seemed as confused as the Mandalorian.

Pinching his nose, Kuiil looked at the Mandalorian with deep empathy.

"What do I need to do?"

#mandalorian #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #the mandolorian spoilers #mandalorian x oc #starwars #fanfiction #fandom #fanfic #the last jedi #leia organa #dyn jarren #han solo #rey #writing #baby yoda #baby not yoda #yoda

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iristhepladsen · 6 years ago

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Another Day, Another Bounty

A/N: was not planning on posting this anywhere, as I usually write just for me XD But, when I was watching episode one, I kept thinking: He will find a lady! (Of course, I think the baby not-Yoda is much cuter). But, I couldn't help but keep wondering about the alternative. And thus, here it is! Enjoy

This will be a multi-part story. :)

Warnings: Mention of blood, violence

Another day, another bounty. This was the smallest amount of information he had before. Only a tracking fob and a vague guess on where "the asset" was. The only thing he was told was for certain was...it was one of the most dangerous creatures he'd ever encounter.

Looking inside the compound, his sensors surveyed the empty space. Looking at the many lifeforms, he heard the beeping of his tracker. It was here. Walking slowly through the empty corridors, he watched the heat forms move and flicker like dying candles. "Lifeforms detected. Begin the process of intrusion." The droid stated, arm whirring. Drilling through the control panel, the door slid open, causing several of the inhabitants to shriek. The overcrowded storage shaft was filled with creatures, some with weapons, but most with limited fighting resources. When one of the women fired a shot, he immediately shot back, striking her arm. Looking through the area, he saw it must be one of the many in-between stations out in the small planets. Creatures of all walks were here, desperately seeking asylum, from war, bounty, an illicit activity went wrong. Foreign species, human-like species, and the like. It was doubtless that more than one in here would catch a good bounty price. But, that wasn't what he was here for...today. Walking forward, each step he took was intentional and listened to, many hiding their faces, children hiding behind their mothers and fathers. At that sight, a pang hit his chest. Walking past each person, he watched a breath catch in their throats. All except one. Sitting on the floor, a creature was staring at the wall in front of them, a hood obscuring his view. And the first thing he could think of was: flowers. Flowers of every kind and design covered the short cloak, flowers doused in orange and red, purple violets, red cypree-ca flowers, and so forth. If they weren't so finely detailed, he would've found the cloak a repulsive sight. Going down on a knee, he moved closer, the sensor went faster and faster. "You." Throat clenching, she turned and looked over at him, her eyesight grazing the edge of his shoulder. Fingers lightly touching the rainbow frills of her cloak, a small breath escaped her. Getting a proper look at her, he reasoned that she must be a human species, of some kind. "...it's me. Isn't it?" Eyebrow raising, he tilted his head as he looked at her. Looks could be misleading. But the only impression he received from her was: Complacent, resigned, yet... Of all the creatures present, she would have been the least likely of them that he would suspect for danger and captivity. And that was why he was chosen. In a crowd of thousands, he would still find the bounty. "Asset located. Commencing extermination." The droid monotonously stated it's gun activating, creating a high pitched whine. Gripping the wooden staff in her hand, she huffed out an alarmed breath through her nose. Standing up, the Mandalorian blocked her from view. "Wait." Holding his hand up, the Mandalorian attempted to stop it. "The asset is required to be brought in...alive." "We had specific instructions for immediate termination. Commencing." Arms loading, the familiar sound of power gathering filled the room, the inhabitants unable to do anything except stare in horror. Without a second thought, the Mandalorian fired at the center under its arm, deactivating the droid. So. More than one person was after her. Some wanted her alive, and some wanted her dead. More screams filled the room, all fleeing and rushing away. No one wanted to be near a Mandalorian with blood lust. "Everyone out." Eyeing her, he added: "Except for you." When she reached for her staff, he kicked it out of her hands. "I don't think so. " As she rose, he immediately set a pace bracelet on her, and one on himself setting it to five. Walking away, she felt her arm move toward him, forcing her to walk. "I...won't run away." She began. When there was no reply, she followed resignedly after him. Climbing down into the red and rocky cavern, he heard her sliding over pebbles, hurrying to catch up with his pace. Hearing her trip and fall, he saw she had fallen into a rock. "I..." Breathing hard, she struggled to rise back up, a small wheeze in her chest. Sitting down, he took out a canteen of water. "Here." Thrusting it at her, her eyes frowned in suspicion. "It's water, not poison." Reaching out, her fingers curled unsurely around the leather canteen. "Thank you." Sipping the water, she felt the hot wind rustle her hair, her cape fluttering slightly along with it. Rising, he set the pace to seven and continued the walk, this time a half pace slower. As the sunset to a burning afternoon, he listened to the scuttles of lizards collect around their feet. That...and silence. Too much of it. Stopping, his hand instinctively went to his blaster. Looking all around them, her dry lips parted. "I hear something. It's coming close." She whispered. Slamming the pace to fifty, he clenched his fist and made a punching motion, sending her flying back. Charging, two fellow hunters came, spears raised. Using his rifle as a barrier, he braced for the impact, using his right leg to kick the weak link in their armor. Slashing through the Mandolarian's arm, he hissed in pain as the spear made an impact with flesh. Turning, he saw one of the creatures charging the woman. Setting to "disintegrate", he removed him in seconds, as she stood there numbly. Burying his dagger into the other's chest, he gave it a twist for good measure before sliding it off. Feeling irritation bubble, he walked over to her. "The next time you see someone charge you, you run, or ask for help!" Silent, she walked on. "This way." He said, nodding his head South. Turning slowly, she followed behind him. Not long after, the camp was prepared. A simple lantern, water mixed with nutrition powder was provided to her, as he peered at his arm, doing his best to cauterize the wound. Grunting in pain, the scent of burnt flesh and electricity wafted into his nose. "Do you need...help? Here, it isn't much, but maybe..." Tearing at her long linen pants, she began creating a bandage. "No thank you. Just get sleep." He ordered. Stopping midtear, she finished it with one quiet skriip. Folding it, she lay it neatly down on the rock. Laying on her side, her eyes were fixed in his direction as they slowly slid shut. Eyes drifting to the fabric, he picked it up hesitantly. Wrapping it on his arm, he made a firm knot of it. It would stave the infection off, at least. *** After a shake on her shoulder and a few bites of dried meat and rehydrated beans, they continued the journey. As the sun rose to its peak height, the Mandalorian looked down below. Jawas were taking his ship apart, bit by bit. Getting down, he pulled out his gun, setting it to distance. Watching them closely, he silently willed the blaster to hit the target. How to hit without destroying or damaging his parts. Blasting, he successfully disintegrated one...two...three... As they began retreating, he scaled down the cliff, the bounty not far behind him. "What-is wrong?" She asked, crying out when a rock scratched her arm. Setting the pace to one hundred, he watched her grow further into the distance. "Jawas." Running after the fortress, he made a leap for it, catching onto the ladder. Turning the pacemaker to the maximum distance, he hoped she was smart enough to keep up. Getting the parts, and then back to her would be a lot of extra work he didn't need. Painstakingly, he made his way up. Feeling a fizz shoot through his armor, he felt his body jerk involuntarily, the breast place fizzing angrily at him from the previous day's damage. Falling backward, he gave a panicked shriek, barely processing the jeering Jawas that grew smaller and smaller. Making a hard impact on the rock, his eyes rolled into his head, a buzz in his head. Feeling a soft hand rub his, his eyes drifted open blearily, staring into the tinted sun. His spine felt as if snapped in half, and for a moment, he worried that it might be so. The hand was on his wrist, checking for a pulse. "Please. Please don't die." She was whispering, her voice thick with worry. Eyes focusing on her face, he noticed a sunburn that was forming on her cheeks and nose. Sitting up, he tried not to shake his head to rid himself of the static-like sounds. Breathing in and out heavily, he forced himself to try and stand. Arm going through his, she tried her best to pull his body up. Standing, he realized he was leaning into her. Spinning the pacemaker back to ten, he began his limp, his prisoner not far behind. Entering the ship, he found himself shaking his head in horror over the damage. Wires loose, even cut, sparks flying. Opening one of the wiring panels, he saw even the most minuscule of them were ripped. Slamming it shut, he grunted in frustration. Looking at the opening of the ship, he somehow felt relieved yet frustrated at the woman, her hand against the metal of the ship, her thin shoes finding solace on the cool metal. "Come on. We need to go somewhere else." "Who?" She found herself asking. "The only one who can solve this issue."

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