Warning: Mentions of abuse and slavery
Not a word was spoken until the ship touched down -roughly- on Tatooine. Even then, it was to tell her to follow.
“Just keep them away from my ship.” The Mandolorian assured the woman as the droids hovered nearby, just like Y/N.
“Yeah? You think that’s a good idea do ya?” The woman scoffed with a toss of her head, ringlets bouncing. “Let's look at your ship.” she sauntered over to the ship, tablet in hand. The Mandolorian followed, hovering over the woman, almost as if he didn’t trust her. Y/N lingered, shifting on her feet.. Risking getting in the way, or being underfoot was never a good idea.
The droids seemed to feel the same way, beeping softly as they came to stand beside her. What were they saying? Were they saying anything at all? Y/N jumped slightly when one tugged lightly at her shirt sleeve.
“Yes?” She spoke softly, the Mandolorian would not take it well if she was to interrupt his conversation, never mind to speak to a droid. The droid babbled and beeped, pointing to her bare feet then to the sun. Oh, the heat.
“I can feel it, just barely.” Not Gaffa, but the master he’d rented her out to had been keen on ensuring he did not have to waste money on shoes. Did he know just how much the memories of that process would haunt her? How even years later they caused her breath to catch in her throat at the phantom pain? That her hands would tremble at the mere thought?
“I have five hundred Imperial credits.” He handed them over, but with how the woman frowned, it wasn’t going to be enough.
“Well that will be enough to cover the hanger.” She sighed, glancing over the droids. “What do you guys think?” The droids beeped and clicked in response. The Mandolorian shifted on his feet and for a moment, Y/N thought she heard a sigh.
The woman scoffed with a toss of her head. “I’ve heard that before.”
“Yeah yeah,” His words were waved away. “I heard you the first time, no droids.” She turned away, towards the ship to look it over some more, the Mandolorian’s attention returning to Y/N.
“You stay here.” He commanded as he turned away. Wait, he was just going to leave her there? Alone? With the kid? Where just about anyone could come grab her? What if Gaffa had people looking for her? She couldn’t do anything to stop them-he could.
“Wait!” Y/N stepped forward as she said it. He looked back at her, the sun glinting off the silver beskar of his armor. She swallowed and glanced down at her hands. “You said I can ask questions. I...I just want to ask...What I mean is...can I come with you?” Was it her imagination or did he tilt his head?
“I don’t want to stay here by myself.” She whispered, not entirely sure if he heard it. “It doesn’t feel...safe.”
“Come on then.” He almost seemed to sigh it before he walked away. She followed, half a step behind. It was odd, seeing how people fell silent and wary as they passed by, as if beskar armor had hypnotized them. He barely even glanced at them. What was that like? To be strong enough that others yielded? To not have to fear and cower? To not have to ever admit that she didn’t feel safe?
What was it like to not be her?
“Stay close,” His words were firm, and her body followed the Mandolorian’s command, keeping close enough that his cape brushed against her as they stepped into an empty pub. Well, almost empty. The bartender cast them a look that sent a shiver down her spine and a message that they were far from welcome here. How could droids have such emotion to them?
“Hey, droid.” There was no trace of contempt in the greeting that the words themselves implied. “I'm a hunter. I'm looking for some work.” Was this how he always was? Straight to the point? His voice monotonous and unemotional? How was she to know if he was angry or pleased? How was she to react and respond if he was so impossible to read?
“Unfortunately the Bounty Guild no longer operates from Tatooine.” The bartender’s response was just as courteous as any droid’s would be, as any slave’s would be.
The Mandolorian shook his head slightly, “I’m not looking for Guild work.” Huh, was it the Guild that placed the bounty on him and the Child? Did he defect from it? Or was it whoever he took the Child from that put the bounty out? Maybe both?
The droid seemed unphased by the words. “I am afraid that does not improve your situation. At least by my calculation.” Y/N jumped slightly as a voice called out from behind her.
“Think again, tin can.” How had she not noticed the man the booth? Was it because he looked as if he belonged there, lounging with his feet on the table?
If the Mandolorian shared her surprise there was no trace of it, he just looked towards the man, his helmet a blank and expressionless slate of metal and glass. But something else betrayed him, cuing her to the tension of the room. Just what? What was it she was seeing but not perceiving? She needed to figure it out, it may just be the thing to keep her alive.
The man in the booth grinned. “If you're looking for work, have a seat, my friend. Name's Toro. Toro Calican.” His words betrayed a confidence in himself, a pride, even as he gestured to the open seat. “Come on, relax.”
Toro removed his feet from the table as the Mandolorian approched, Y/N half a step behind. He sat, almost on the edge of his seat, but she lingered, standing, hands clasped before her as Toro placed a metal puck on the table. What was that? What was it supposed to do?
Toro paused, raising an eyebrow at her. “You gonna sit?” How could such a simple question make her heartbeat stutter? Sitting beside her master was forbidden, a crime, and an insult to the one she served. To step above her status would earn her nothing but a punishment.
She shook her head only slightly, dropping her gaze to the floor. The Mandolorian said nothing, but she could feel his eyes on her, the tension only growing thicker with some unspoken question.
“Okay then sweet thing,” Toro flashed her a flirty grin before falling serious as he looked to the Mandolorian, a hologram flickering to life above the puck.
“Picked up this bounty puck before I left the Mid-Rim. Fennec Shand, an assassin.” He looked all too pleased to be able to say this, to talk about the woman he was hunting down. “Heard she's been on the run ever since the New Republic put all her employers in lockdown.” That had to be difficult, to have one’s way of life ripped out from under her, to feel the changing tides more acutely than others, and to have to run because of it. Like going from one master to another. New habits, responsibilities, and punishments, new pet peeves and emotions to navigate.
“I know the name.” The open ended sentence seemed to prompt Toro to continue.
“Ya well, I followed this tracking fob here. Now the positional data suggests she'd headed out beyond the Dune Sea.” He shrugged, “Should be an easy job.” Easy job? Then why was he telling the Mandolorian this? Was he looking for help or competition? No, the second didn’t make sense, he’d just be sabatoging himself.
“Well,” The Mandolorian stood, “Good luck with that.” A sigh very nearly escaped her, he had to have seen what she did, that this man could not be trusted. Y/N fell into step as he strode towards the door, with the tension flowing off of him like his cape. Please let that be from Toro following them, not from something she had done.
“Wait, wait, wait, hey, I thought you needed work!” Just short of the door, the Mandolorian paused, turning to look at him.
“How long you been with the Guild?” It was a knowing question, and one that boarded on insulting if she was to go by Toro’s expression. Yet could even that be believed? Was he clever enough to tense his jaw, to push his shoulders back a little more, or to draw his brows together a fraction more?
“Long enough.” There was a bite to his tone that caused her to tense. Master Qutizen spoke like that, his words venomous with anger, yet never rising in volume. Did Toro know that? Did he know Qutizen? Did he see how her hands trembled or know how a few of the scars that crossed her back began to ache?
“Clearly not.” The Mandolorian shook his head, the glare of the lights on his helmet exaggerating the small movement. “Fennec Shand is an elite mercenary. She made her name killing for all the top crime syndicates, including the Hutts. If you go after her, you won't make it past sunrise.” Oh, that’s what he knew, that’s what had him turning towards the door.
A chill slid down her spine as Toro stepped into the Mandolorian’s path, his shoulders dropping in defeat. What had him so determined to work with the Mandolorian? What did he get out of it?
“This is my first job.” Desperation colored his words. “You can keep the money, all of it. I just need this job to get into the Guild. I can't do it alone.” So there it was. Fennec was his ticket into the bounty hunter’s guild, into the lifestyle. In the silence, Y/N could almost hear her heartbeat. Was it supposed to be beating this fast?
“Meet me at hangar three-five in half an hour. Bring two speeder bikes, and give me the tracking fob.” The Mandolorian was all business, his tone crisp and cold as he held out his hand for the puck, a motion so like when she’d moved too slow to please Gaffa and he was becoming impatient. Gaffa, did he even know she was gone? Would he only realized her absence when there was no one to cower under his rage? Would he take it out upon one of the other slaves? Who would play that part now? Whoever they were, they had her pity. Hopefully they would have some allies to support them like she never had.
The crunch of the tracking fob under Toro’s boot was like a thunderclap in the stillness, his grin one that made her skin crawl. “Don’t worry, got it all memorized.”
“Half an hour.” He just repeated himself, and this time Toro let them leave, having met his goal. The walk back to the hanger was just as quiet as the first, not a word passing between them, at least until a merchant’s wheelbarrow clipped the back of her foot, sending her stumbling into the Mandolorian.
In the millisecond of contact, her senses marvelled at the worn softness of his cape, at the quality of it and the warmth it must provide. Then the second was over and she was tripping backwards, blood pounding in her ears.
“Watch where you’re going!” The merchant snapped at her but she barely heard the words as the Mandolorian turned to look at her. Stars above, she was going to die. Or would she be so lucky? A tremor shook her body as she dropped into a kneeling bow, her face only centimeters from the steaming sand. What did it matter that it was an accident? What did it matter that it wasn’t her fault? She’d invaded his space, not only that she’d touched him.
“My apologies! I didn’t mean to.” She spoke as quickly as her mind was racing. What would her punishment be? Beating? Whip? Starvation? Oh please don’t be like Gaffa, favoring the humiliating chains. He may not be a kind man, but surely he wouldn’t be so cruel?
”Y/N,” His voice cut through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. “Get up, it was an accident.” What? He wasn’t angry?
Slowly, she lifted her face to look at him. He stood there in the brilliant sunlight of Tatoonie’s dual suns, the beskar gleaming in such a way that he looked as if he’d stepped out of a painting of a hero, like the elite warrior he was. And he wasn’t angry with her? Why? How?
“You’re not a slave anymore.” He stated it so simply, as if he knew the thoughts that ran through her head in baffled circles. “Get up.” Oh...he was right. Unless this was a trick, it wouldn’t be the first time she’d been told to stand only to get struck down.
He nodded at her as once she was on her feet before turning away. Y/N followed, embarrassed by what had once kept her alive.How could she forget that he claimed she was free? How does one forget something like that? Why was it so easy to slip back into? Where was the delight she’d previously felt to remind her?
And more importantly, now that they were back on the ship, where was the Child?
The safe room was open but how? The little green creature couldn’t possibly open it on his own, could he? And where would he go? Where did he go?
It was as if the sight of the empty safe room hit the Mandolorian with a shockwave, every bit of him going tense, and his steps boardering on a run as he spun back around, brushing past her, actions so quick as to leave her trembling. So he did have a heart, he wasn’t a droid, it was just focused on the Child, blurring everything else out in the process.
“Hey!” His voice was like a thunderclap even from outside, and a shudder breezed through her body. That was what it sounded like when he yelled...what would it sound like when he was truly angry and not just worried? What would it sound like without the helmet? She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts. Whether or not he wore the helmet was none of her business. Curiosity would do her no good… but didn’t he want her to ask questions? At what point would his patience with her end? Everyone snapped at some point or another, what would be the one thing to send him over the edge?
Stepping back out into the sun, Y/N watched as his quick strides devoured the sandy ground, his sharp tone sending a pit droid cowering as she so wished to do.
“Where is he?” As if to answer his question, Peli came into view, hushing the Child crying softly in her arms.
“You woke it up.”If she was intimidated by the Mandolorian that towered over her, it didn’t show. “Do you have any idea how long it took me to get it to sleep?” How could she do that? How did she stand up to somebody so much stronger and faster than her? Never mind lecture him about the Child? Was that what it looked like to know she was free?
He was just as unfazed. “Give him to me.” He held out his hands in a way that emphasized his words.
“Not so fast!” She snapped, a glare leveled at him. “You can’t just leave a child all alone like that. You know you’ve got an awful lot to learn about raising a young one.” Something about what she said seemed to make him pause, and even from a distance Y/N could see him relax a touch. At least until Peli opened her mouth again.
“Though I would think your wife would know better.” Wait, rewind, what?
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