In Fields of White | The Mandalorian

Chapter 3: "I Do the Talking"

Ignoring your lamentations, the Mandalorian reaches around his body to pull something from his belt. You are surprised; he holds a blaster out for you to grab. You stare at it blankly, uncertain how to act.

"Take it." The Mandalorian's tone is low. You look up at him then back down to the weapon. "You may need it."

With a heavy sigh, you squeeze your fingers tightly around the handle and let the blaster drop against your leg. "I'm not the best shot." You shrug. "But, uh-" you smile feebly- "thanks."

"Mmf," he sits up, "You did well enough with my rifle."

A lopsided grin sprouts across your face. "I did-" you grin even wider- "didn't I?"

The Mandalorian huffs. "Don't get cocky."

You don't respond, just turn away, that self-satisfied smile still stretched tightly across your face. Tossing a glance over at the Mandalorian, you find him looking down at the ground as if considering something.

"What is it?" you prod, tone still light with amusement. Prompted by your words, the Mandalorian gently lowers himself back down to the ground beside you. He reaches across his body before turning around to face you again. You stare, confused, when he offers you a canvas pouch.

"Stay here. Don't change positions." He pauses. "But if something goes wrong-"

"Uhg-"

"You'll need what's in here to get back to town safely." He holds the bag out expectantly.

You release a groan and begrudgingly take it. "Fine..."

"If I'm not back by daybreak-" he inclines his head towards you- "you need to start back without me. Understood?"

You crinkle your nose. "Just... come back, okay?" You reach out and touch his arm. You stare up at the Mandalorian, unable to resist the urge to flash a teasing smirk at him. "After all, if I face another Bateran, this-" you wave the blaster still in your hand- "hardly compares to that." You motion your blaster towards the rifle resting across his back.

The Mandalorian grunts and pushes your blaster-wielding arm away from him. "Careful where you point that thing."

Beaming with amusement, you squeeze his arm and chuckle. He stills, staring down at your hand still clutching his arm. "One more thing-" he looks back up at you- "just in case." He reaches into another pocket and pulls an object out. He grabs your hand and presses something cold and hard against your palm. You stare down, wide-eyed to discover a credit chip.

"Oh."

"For transportation. It's more than enough-" he stands- "to uphold my end of the deal."

Stupidly staring down at the credit chip, you find yourself subdued by his actions. It might be impossible for you to search the Mandalorian's eyes for sincerity, for meaning behind his limited words, but his actions told you all you needed to know.

Gazing back up to speak, you find he is already swiftly moving away, leaving you alone on the ridge with only your blaster and anxiety for company.

You wish you can say you waited patiently, watchful eyes combing the area for any potential risks. Instead, the soft desert breeze and faint dinging of chimes, combined with your anxious exhaustion, lolls you into a tranquil reverie. You fall asleep against a cluster of rocks within the second hour.

The worst part is you have a dream again, only this one isn't shredded apart by memories. No, in this particular dream, you are wrapped tightly in a cloak, snowflakes catching in your eyelashes as they twirl down from puffy clouds littering the skies. It all looks just like your childhood home did, and your heart warms at the realization. Chuckling, you begin running after a little dark-headed boy when he throws a snowball in your direction. Curls bouncing as his tubby legs toddle over a frozen tree branch, he abruptly halts, spins, and launches himself into your arms, tightly squeezing as you laugh. Tickling him down to the snow-coated ground, the little boy launches into a giggling fit, squirming against your hold. A freezing breeze stings your cheek as the dream fades away, leaving you with a different kind of ache in your heart.