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There was once a time Eden thought herself untouchable. She had lost everything to the cruel, blood-soaked hands of the empire. Her partner, her son, her life — at least, the parts of it that mattered. She had been freed from the shackles of fear, for there was nothing more the Empire, nor any rival bounty hunter, could take from her. Easily, she'd descended into the pits of a seemingly endless darkness, carrying out the biddings of any with enough credits to sway what little morality she still had. From the Hutt Clan to the Black Sun, she'd dealt with some of the most powerful beings in the criminal world without care for safety.
But now, more than ever before, she was terrified.
Despite long ago foreboding herself for caring for anything, or anything, she'd found herself a victim of the shred of humanity that was hidden within the dark. Her fate had become entwined with Din Djarin's and child, and she'd been unable to resist the currents of her love for them. For the first time in a long time, she had something to lose. It would take just one moment, one mistake, and her life would be torn from her trembling hands once more.
She should be at ease, knowing they'd destroyed those who sought to harm their child. The blazes from the crashed ship holding Moff Gideon should have sparked into a new beginning. But, the corruptive nature of paranoia had tainted Eden's mind, dooming her to expect danger around every corner. Something deep within herself whispered, telling her they'd never find peace. Even if they were to find the Jedi, and rip their hearts out as they give away the child, nothing was certain.
There was not a corner in the galaxy that was ever truly safe.
The burning sensation radiating from the wound upon Eden's hand is but another reminder of the future's uncertainty. Regardless of how she'd once believed, she was not untouchable; she was human. One without the protection of the ancient metal of sacred armour. One blaster bolt in the right place, or a blade stabbed through her back, and all she'd built would end. Din, though bearing the impenetrable armour of his people, was only a step up from herself. He was impulsive, and selfless to a fault. When it came to those he cared for, he didn't hesitate to throw himself in harm's way. The decision between life, or saving a loved one, was never a choice within his mind — he'd throw himself on death's doorstep every time.
And the child — he was more vulnerable than either of them combined. Despite the force blazing through his veins, he was young; untrained. One misstep, and he'd be lost; to death or experimentation. The three of them were bound to lose, or so it felt. Whether it be soon, or years in the making, the day would come when fate would shatter the family of three. The mere thought of such was nauseating, sending tendrils of pain meandering through her heart's chambers.
