tritanopia | The Mandalorian

eighteen

Mando sighed, releasing firm grip he had once it was clear she wasn't going anywhere, "I'm aware of that. I just wanted to remind you to stick to your word, Fae. I'm trusting you on this." Perhaps the word trust when it came to Mando was not as significant to Fae as it was to him. She didn't quite grasp how big of a deal the situation was, how important it was for her to prove herself that night. Otherwise the word trust would likely never be used again between the two.

Fae didn't reply for a long time, her eyes staring hesitantly back at her own reflection for some time, before nodding solemnly and walking out into the black. But not before muttering a quiet, "I promise."

~☾~

No offence to myself, but what the fuck am I actually doing?

Fae's inner monologue did not stray from that one sentence as she huddled with the villagers behind the makeshift barricade. She couldn't see the tree line, the only indication that it was even there being the way the sky suddenly became devoid of stars past a certain point. The only reason she could even see her own hands being the several blazing torches situated behind them. Fae truly hadn't been afraid until that point, ignoring her flight or fight response to run for weeks on end. But, in the end, there she was — eyes darting across the soon-to-be battlefield, desperately searching for anything to appear to reassure her it would be okay, and her blaster shook in her quivering hand. Although, even then, regretting her decision to leave her Lightsaber on the Crest did not enter her mind, even for a second.

And then, there was a glint.

A tiny flash of moving silver rushing out from the black void of trees like a bat out of hell. Fae felt her heart in her throat, index finger instinctively tightening on the trigger it was wrapped around — although not enough to set it off. The AT-ST, that's what she thought it had been for a single millisecond, but when she realised it was too short, and too fast, Fae concluded that it was Mando who she had caught a glimpse of. A deep breath rushed out of her lungs, rather loudly, when he was finally close enough so that she could make out the black visor of his helmet against the silver which shon like a beacon in the moonlight.

"This is it!" Cara shouted as she slid in beside Fae, Mando landing on the teenager's other side. The Mandalorian and the girl exchanged a short nod of acknowledgment, Fae not allowing her relief to see him make itself known on her face. "Once that thing steps in the pond, it's goin' down!"

Half of Fae was listening, honestly, but the other half of her was frozen in place; straining her ears to hear the distinct echo of countless branches being effortlessly snapped in something's wake. And everyone present knew exactly what that something was, and they all fell silent at the impending splintering.

Fae leant to her right, allowing the cool Beskar of Mando's vambrace press against her own arm — providing her with a constant reminder of where she was. Or, more correctly, where she wasn't.

"Weapons ready!" Cara continued to yell, an edge of cockiness in her tone, but the villagers complied immediately.

And then it was quiet. The beast growing closer and closer with every passing second. Fae's waterline was one crack in her soul away from overflowing, but she willed herself to blink away the tears — she could cry later. Not then, and not there.

When the AT-ST did make its appearance, it's hair-raising eyes glowing danger-red through the trees, Fae didn't even react. For she had been dreaming about the machine for countless nights, building up that exact moment in her mind so extensively, to the point where, when the mechanical monstrosity stepped forwards to reflect the moonlight and become visible, the girl didn't even flinch.