A/N: Thank you all for supporting this fic so far! The feedback has made me smile and tear up many times this week and I can’t thank you all enough for your kind words.
Once Elliotte’s eyes were covered by a wrap of thick fabric, the Mandalorian held two fingers in front of her face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Uh… three…? I don’t know,” came her response as her fingers sifted through the carefully aligned piles of flowers, all sorted by color, “You’re going to have to let me know what color I’m holding… and yes, it doesmatter.”
Elliotte felt the faint shift in the air as the man settled in the grass across from her. “I will, I will,” he replied, “And you can’t see anything, right…?”
“Even if I could, I have my eyes shut… but please, if you’re uncomfortable with this, you don’t have to–”
“You’ve been nothing but trustworthy since I met you. I can offer you this much as thanks.”
Ell became silent at that, sitting back on her knees and fiddling with the hem of her dress. After a moment came a soft pop and hiss as his helmet disengaged, and a faint thump as he set it aside in the grass. She could hear him draw in a faint breath, and in that moment it was difficult to determine who felt more nervous.
In an attempt to break the uncomfortable pause, Ell lowered her head in the direction of the flower piles and began feeling around for them. “What color is your hair…? Do you have hair? Are you allowed to answer that…?”
A/N: Thank you all for supporting this fic so far! The feedback has made me smile and tear up many times this week and I can’t thank you all enough for your kind words.
Once Elliotte’s eyes were covered by a wrap of thick fabric, the Mandalorian held two fingers in front of her face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”
“Uh… three…? I don’t know,” came her response as her fingers sifted through the carefully aligned piles of flowers, all sorted by color, “You’re going to have to let me know what color I’m holding… and yes, it doesmatter.”
Elliotte felt the faint shift in the air as the man settled in the grass across from her. “I will, I will,” he replied, “And you can’t see anything, right…?”
“Even if I could, I have my eyes shut… but please, if you’re uncomfortable with this, you don’t have to–”
“You’ve been nothing but trustworthy since I met you. I can offer you this much as thanks.”
Ell became silent at that, sitting back on her knees and fiddling with the hem of her dress. After a moment came a soft pop and hiss as his helmet disengaged, and a faint thump as he set it aside in the grass. She could hear him draw in a faint breath, and in that moment it was difficult to determine who felt more nervous.
In an attempt to break the uncomfortable pause, Ell lowered her head in the direction of the flower piles and began feeling around for them. “What color is your hair…? Do you have hair? Are you allowed to answer that…?”
When the Mandalorian spoke next, it was without obstruction–the first time she’d heard it so. “…It’s brown.”
“Then let’s start with… red.” Beneath her blindfold, Ell’s brows furrowed with concentration as she tried to remember the layout of her flower piles. “These are…?”
“Yellow.”
“And these…?”
“Blue. To the left – there.”
Elliotte’s hand finally settled over the proper color. She took a few in her palms and shifted forward on her knees, reaching out to him carefully. Her knuckles lightly brushed his cheek and the Mandalorian recoiled abruptly. “Sorry–! I’m sorry–” she began, but he settled himself and drew closer again.
“No, it’s… it’s fine,” he answered slowly, willing himself to concentrate, “Here,” he bumped her wrist with his gloved hand, guiding her touch upward until her fingers brushed the softness of his hair. Mando was stiff beneath her touch as Elliotte carefully measured out strands of his hair, trying to gauge how long it was and how best to arrange a pattern within it. She’d cut longer stems on her flowers in case his hair was too short to wrap the way she did her own, but she’d quickly come to find his hair was curlier and a bit longer than she’d originally anticipated.
Before placing each flower in his hair, she wrapped the bottom of the stem around her index finger and snapped it off, shortening it enough for her to disguise behind a curl of his hair. All the while, his eyes were on her blindfold, the anxiety that she could see through it never fully dissipating. Try as he might, though, his resolve began to crumble. Mando was able to watch the way she set her jaw in concentration as she looped a stem around her finger, and the way she chewed the inside of her lip as she fastened the flower securely in his hair.
Hearing her speak about artresmourbefore, he could not comprehend how the use of flowers could hold such a significant impact. How could putting flowers in one’s hair deepen a bond between people?
As he watched his companion work through the process with him, he could understand now.
The giver offered a piece of themselves within each flower; They hand-picked every flower, every stem, and each stem was finely woven between itself and other stems, invisible behind a curtain of hair. The giver was the artist, and the recipient, the canvas. The finished product was a work of art, but only the canvas knew the detail of every brushstroke and the genius behind it on a most personal level. It was a secret shared between the two of them. A silent dance of two souls in an empty meadow of flowers, and no one but the harpist and the Mandalorian around to know the significance.
How long had it been since someone touched his hair…?
Elliotte wove blossoms of red and yellow, alternating every so often and using nothing but her hands and muscle memory to guide her through the pattern. About halfway through her process, she felt the Mandalorian begin to relax. She felt the way his bunched shoulders loosened and how his breathing had mellowed out, and she knew if she could see him now without helmet or other obstruction, his eyes would be closed. He was no longer anxious.
She thought fondly back upon the countless nights her mother had tucked her into bed in a similar way, after Ell had been crying her eyes out over whatever trivial matter troubled her young mind. Her mother, always a patient woman, would sit at her bedside and sing nursery rhymes while speckles of white and blue flowers took shape around Elliotte’s head like a crown of petals.
It seemed so long ago, and life hardly ever offered moments of security and sanctuary like she had known when she was little. Even still, the act of artresmourwas one of the best ways to ease a mind into a sense of belonging. Everyone yearned for it in some way – even metal-clad men from a distant planet.
All good things must come to an end.
Elliotte fastened the last flower into his hair and felt briefly around his head to make sure everything was staying neatly in place. Once she was satisfied, she reluctantly retracted her hands from his hair.
The loss of comfort was immediate for both of them. Just as quickly as it had started, the honey-sweet solace brought about by the simplest of human contact was severed, and the weight of real life came crashing back to the forefront of their minds.
“…Hungry?” Ell asked to break the tension, once again managing to draw the Mandalorian’s attention. She patted around in the grass until her hand brushed the roughness of the basket from the marketplace. She pulled the wooden basket onto her lap and opened it, fishing around until her hand closed around one of the palm-sized useme nuts. As she held it to him, he accepted it and the opportunity to eat a meal in the presence of another person without worry.
Elliotte retrieved one of her own and again set the basket aside, shifting in the grass until she was facing the lake ahead. She crushed the thin shell in her hand and peeled off the shards, exposing the large seed within and pulling it out of the rest of the casing. Mando copied her actions and bit into the seed. It was rather plain in flavor, as most freshly harvested nuts were, but there was a hint of enjoyable sweetness to it.
A comfortable silence filled the air between them as they enjoyed the cool breeze wafting across the hilltop, sending ripples across the surface of the lake. Elliotte was still blindfolded, but she didn’t seem too bothered by it. Truth be told, as much as the Mandalorian wanted to remove the slip of fabric and be met with her blue eyes once more, he didn’t want to mess up the artresmourby putting his helmet back on over it.
“I’m sure it probably looks ridiculous,” Ell said, snapping him from his thoughts, “We’re taught to do it pretty much from the day we’re born, and yet… I’ve never had to do it with my eyes closed. It’s kind of a fun challenge.”
“It looks wonderful,” he replied, and he meant it. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from his reflection in the lake, and he especially couldn’t look away from the spots of red and yellow tucked into his dark hair. He looked like autumn. He looked like fallen leaves and a fireplace–like telling ghost stories and silhouettes bundled in warm furs, tucked away from the chilling bite of an evening frost.
It’s like a picture.
Mando hadn’t realized he’d said the words out loud until he heard Elliotte shifting beside him. He turned his head to watch her discard the empty useme shell and reach up to her own hairline. For the briefest moment, he thought she was reaching for the blindfold and nearly sprang for his helmet, but her fingers instead wrapped around a curl of her hair that had become untucked and began playing with it between her fingertips idly. “In a way, it is,” she murmured, one shoulder lifting in a sort of half-shrug, “Me, I’ve always seen it as a sort of living poetry–just instead of weaving words, you’re weaving flowers. I’ve never been too good at putting words to paper, so artresmour makes for a satisfactory outlet.”
“And playing your instrument doesn’t?”
Elliotte gave a laugh that sounded more like a scoff. “The nobles make for a rotten audience. They don’t really listen to it anyway.”
“Then why do you play for them?” he inquired.
“It’s less of an outlet and more of a necessity. The nobility are… difficult to work with, to say the least. They lack respect and common decency, but they pay better than anyone else. You said you used to be a bounty hunter, right? Surely you’ve had to deal with a number of unsavory people in order to get paid.”
“I have,” he admitted, unable to count on both hands the number of names that immediately came to his mind, “But… in a way, I’m able to remove myself from it. They have no idea who I am beyond a suit of armor and an empty nickname.”
“Is that why you can’t take your helmet off? To maintain some sort of anonymity?”
“Partially. The main reason is due to my religion. No living person has seen my face since… well–in a long time,” he explained, trailing a gloved finger over the t-shaped visor of his helmet beside him. “I blindfolded you not because I don’t find you trustworthy, but because if you didsee… I would have to kill you. Or else never put the helmet on again.”
“You don’t owe me any kind of apology or explanation, if that’s what you’re getting at. I would never ask anyone to make that kind of sacrifice just because I was feeling selfish! There’s no amount of curiosity worth overstepping a boundary like that,” Elliotte answered simply, crunching away at another useme nut.
“You’d be surprised at the number of people who believe they’re entitled otherwise.”
Ell angled her head toward him, brow furrowing in bewilderment. “You don’t say? Here I thought I’d seen the worst of people. A sprained wrist isn’t looking so bad right now,” she mumbled, lifting her wrapped arm to emphasize.
Mando’s gaze watched the movement of her forearm. “How does it feel…?”
“It’s not quite as sore today. Hopefully is isn’t as bad as I originally thought. Then again, I’m really in no hurry to go back to the palace…”
“Ideally, you won’t have to,” he said, finally reaching for his helmet and slipping it back on over his artresmour’d head. It clicked into place, and the next time he spoke his voice was once again muffled by the vocoder. “I’m going to pay you the same rate for your guidance that you were being paid for your instrument.”
As soon as the blindfold was removed from her eyes, Elliotte shot him an incredulous look. “Yeah, right, I wouldn’t ask that of you. That’s ridiculous.”
Before she could further protest, Mando was already passing her a handful of credits. “Please. It’s the least I can do. You need it more than I do.”
Ell hesitated for a moment, looking as though she made to reach for them, but instead her hands gently folded his gloved fingers back over the currency. She shook her head slowly, worrying her lip between her teeth. “Your offer is generous–truly, it is, and I’m exceptionally grateful, but… the truth is, the money isn’t specifically for me. I’ve got some… people I’m trying to look after. People who are in much more of a dire situation that myself. I have enough in my savings to keep me fed and a roof over my head for a while…”
“Then give it to them–I don’t mind.”
“Mando, you areone of them,” she said, and for the first time he noticed the wetness forming at the corners of her eyes. Elliotte paused for a moment to compose herself, closing her eyes to concentrate on how best to continue. “People have been stranded on this planet for months. Acquiring Listronian fuel these days is no easy or cheap task, as I’m sure you’re growing aware. If you burn through your savings, you’re sure to be put in a situation just like them, and with your kid–”
“Ellie,” he said, and judging by the way she jolted, perhaps it came out a bit sterner than he intended. “It’s going to be alright. You’ve already got enough to deal with; The last thing you need is to start worrying about me.”
Elliotte gave a weak laugh, lightly wiping her eyes with her sleeve. “I can’t help it–you’re very easy to worry about.”
Now it was his turn to chuckle. “Am I? Well… you’d be the first to think so,” he stood and offered her his hand to help her to her feet. “You seem to have rotten luck of your own. First the wrist, then an attempted robbery… can’t seem to catch a break this week.”
“Well, it’s not been all bad. I got some nice company out of it, didn’t I?” said Elliotte, retrieving the basket from beside her and turning to begin the walk back down the hillside.
Another soft laugh escaped through the modulator. “I’m not usually what people would consider ‘good company’.”
“I suppose the armor would be a bit off putting to some.”
“That and my typical encounters with people aren’t exactly the ‘friendly’ kind. When you have a lot of enemies, it’s best to hold your tongue in their presence. It’s safer for you if they don’t know much about you.”
Ell didn’t respond, and they were overtaken by silence as they descended the hillside, enjoying the coolness of the air as Cietovus 8 sank behind the hillside and left them in growing darkness. Before long, they’d reached the bottom of the hill.
Back on flat ground, Elliotte turned to give him a smile. “Thanks for humoring me all day. I know the market isn’t super fun, but it isessential to life on Listronus. Hopefully Listrona Hill was a bit more enjoyable.”
“It was… and thank you for showing me. You make one hell of a tour guide.”
She laughed and rolled her eyes as the countryside faded into darkness behind them and the lights of the city drew nearer. “Do you mind if we make a quick stop before we call it a night…?”
“I don’t mind.”
On Elliotte’s route, they crossed through the center of the city, passed the palace and her house further down the street, and continued along a quiet path to the western outskirts. Mando recognized the area quickly as the place he’d rescued Elliotte from the would-be mugger the night before… what wasshe doing in this part of town so frequently?
His question was answered soon after when Elliotte turned up the pathway to a worn-down house surrounded by overgrown shrubbery and hidden from the view of the street. Mando followed her to the door as she knocked rhythmically on the chipping wooden. Before too long, a woman with hair like fire opened the door. Her brown eyes were soft and full of kindness, and her presumably long hair was tied in place by dozens of tiny yellow flowers. She couldn’t have been much older than Elliotte, herself, but her expression immediately lit up when she saw her. The woman pulled her into a bruising hug and made some comment about how she’d told Ell not to be out at this time of night. The Mandalorian shifted his weight from foot to foot, and only then did she seem to take notice of him.
The redheaded woman recoiled in surprise, “Ell, I truly thought you’d brought me a statue, but… this must be the Mandalorian you’ve told me so much about.”
Ell only had time to give an embarrassed “Rhy–” before the other woman stepped aside and held the door open.
“Come in, come in. My goodness, you are tall.”
Mando gave a sheepish ‘thanks’ and stepped into the small building behind Elliotte. The interior wasn’t much more impressive than the outside; It was small and cramped, and the smell of wood rot was rather prevalent in the air. To his left, he was surprised to find a crowd of people huddled around the small fireplace. When they took notice of Elliotte, many smiled or waved in greeting. Hardly any of them were Listronian; Mando recognized a number of species from planets far off. All at once, things began to click into place.
The fuel crisis.
Elliotte mentioned that she knew a number of other people stranded like he and the child were, and said that a large portion of her income went to providing for those in a worse situation than herself. All this time, she’d been aiding them.
“This is Rhythimi,” Ell said, once the door was shut firmly behind them, “My best friend. Rhy, this is Mando.”
“Mando. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Rhythimi answered kindly, extending her hand.
“Wish I could say the same,” he replied, shaking her hand whilst stealing a glance in Ell’s direction.
Rhythimi chuckled. “No, don’t be silly. If I’ve remained anonymous, that means Elliotte’s done her job. That being said, if you’re here that must mean you’ve found yourself in a similar situation to all these folks… low on fuel?”
“That’s right.”
“In that case, I’ll be sure to add you to the wait list,” said Rhythimi.
“Wait list?” Mando inquired.
“Of course. For fuel.”
“You’re able to get it?”
“Sure, but it’ll be a few weeks… or even a few months. We aren’t exactly following legal protocols here. But… We’ll do what we can to get you home.”
The Mandalorian inclined his head.
“Sorry to drop in on you with a guest unexpectedly, Rhy,” Ell chimed in, “…we’ll be out of your hair shortly, but we did bring you these. Hopefully they’ll come in handy,” Ell said, setting the basket of useme nuts on the table.
Rhythimi smiled gratefully. “Of course they will. Every little bit helps. And don’t you dare apologize… seeing you is one of the few things I look forward to every day.”
Ell smiled, and the two exchanged a quick hug before she bid her friend and the refugees goodnight and made for the door. The cool air returned as she and the Mandalorian crossed the porch and descended the few stairs to the grass. “I apologize for not telling you about her sooner,” she said in a hushed whisper, trying to keep her voice down in case anyone was attempting to listen in, “I know you need fuel–I’ve known that since we met, but I hope you understand… I had to make sure you were trustworthy first.”
“I do understand,” he replied, turning his helmet in her direction. “And thank you.”
“For what?”
“Helping us.”
Elliotte turned to look at him, beaming with a smile that reached her eyes. “No worries… I’m glad to be doing something for a good cause.” The two reached the main street before she spoke again. “Thank you for your time today. I know it was… a lot of seemingly pointless information, but it feels nice to have someone to tell it all to.”
“Of course. I look forward to the lessons to come. In the meantime, I’ll walk you home,” he replied, and Ell looked like she wanted to protest, but he held up a gloved hand to quiet her. “No, you won’t be ‘troubling me’, stop it. You got mugged on this exact street corner last night. I’m not taking any chances.”
As much as she wanted to, Elliotte couldn’t argue with that. “Fine. But you have to take a cup of tea back to your ship with you.”
“Deal.”
By the time they began their trip down the street in the direction they’d come, the streetlights had begun to illuminate the ground around them. The Mandalorian felt much more at ease with the increased lighting the closer they got to the city, and much more relieved knowing she had agreed to let him walk her home at this time of night. Although his faith in her continued to grow, his faith in the city deteriorated. There were much more underlying issues here than he’d originally anticipated.
Between a haughty nobility, a fuel crisis, a growing homeless population, poverty-stricken individuals, and a greedy king atop it all, Mando couldn’t help but wonder how gentle souls such as Elliotte and Rhythimi had managed to survive on this planet. They both were a light in a tunnel of darkness… a clarity. A brightness.
A brightness the Mandalorian had scarcely witnessed in his many years as a bounty hunter. Without Elliotte, he hardly believed he would have given this planet more than a passing thought. He would know nothing about their culture or the people, and not too long ago he wouldn’t have cared. However, more than anything he now wanted to learn more.
Mando reached this conclusion the same moment they reached her doorstep. “Thank you again for everything,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at him. She reached for the handle and tried to turn it, but the door didn’t budge. She cursed and patted the sides of her dress, and even her sleeves.
There was a long pause before her forehead thumped against the wood of the door. “The key. I locked the key inside.”
The Mandalorian went to respond, but he watched her gaze shift from the door to the overhanging balcony a few feet up.
“Hold on,” she mumbled, crossing the small porch and taking a large jump. Her hands found purchase on the bottom of the balcony and she hoisted herself up with skillful ease.
“This hasn’t been your first time locking yourself out, has it,” Mando observed, watching with his arms folded until he was sure she was up safely. Then, he copied her motions and swung himself over the rail.
“First time while I had company,” she answered, pulling the balcony doors open. She stepped inside the revealed room without a second thought, but the Mandalorian hesitated. The room was surprisingly spacious, with a closed closet at one side, Elliotte’s harp propped against the wood of the door, and a large bathroom at the other. In the middle of the room was a small couch and coffee table, and to his left was a small bed encircled by a thin white curtain. It became clear rather quickly that he was looking into her bedroom, and he immediately felt as though he was intruding.
Elliotte seemed to notice his hesitation and lifted her hands to ask him to wait. “You don’t have to come in! You can stay there–I’m just gonna run downstairs to get your tea.”
Mando gave a single curt nod and graciously turned to busy his attention elsewhere… “elsewhere” happened to be looking out over the railing of the balcony. Without his helmet, he wouldn’t be able to distinguish the features of the buildings barely visible in the darkness, but he was able to recognize the shape of the palace down the street, and the neighboring homes on this stretch of road. The marketplace was empty, and the stalls were covered individually by large sheets to attempt to protect the wood from rain.
Before long, Elliotte made her way back upstairs, cupping her hands around a mug of steaming tea. “Here you are,” she said, carefully passing the mug to him, “Freshest Listronian tea you’ll get this time of night.”
He thanked her and took the mug from her. “Same time tomorrow?”
“We’ll start whatever time you want. I kept you out longer than I intended today, so… sleep in and spend some time with your kid.”
The Mandalorian smiled behind his helmet and realized a bit too late that she was unable to see it. “I’ll meet you here.”
The conversation should have ended there, and yet neither one of them made a move to leave. Instead, Elliotte averted her gaze, looking out over the city.
“Earlier today, you called me ‘Ellie’… I don’t know that you meant to, but you did. No one’s called me that since I was a kid.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–”
“No, don’t apologize,” she said quickly. She scratched her arm sheepishly, vision still focused on the flickering lights in the buildings across the street. “That was my mother’s nickname for me. It was my favorite.”
Mando didn’t miss the hurt in her eyes when she mentioned her mother, but even more so, he didn’t miss the fond smile that crept over her lips. He turned his helmet slightly to the side, still watching her through the visor. “…Thank you for today, Ellie… I learned a lot.”
The corner of her lip turned upward. “I did too.”
“Youlearned a lot about your planet today? Here I thought you knew everything,” he said, hoping his humor wasn’t lost through the vocoder.
“Not about Listronus,” Ell replied earnestly, “About you.” For a moment, her blue eyes were drawn away from the visor and moved to his shoulder, where a red flower petal had fallen out from beneath his helmet. She lifted her hand to brush it off and watched it flutter to the balcony’s floor.
“Oh…” he responded lamely.
And then Ell did something that surprised them both.
She kissed him.
A soft brush of her lips against the smooth beskar of his helmet’s cheek. She pulled back just as quickly as she’d initiated it, face flushed the color of a rose, before she cleared her throat, offered a soft “goodnight” and padded briskly into her room, shutting the balcony doors behind her. Whether she or the Mandalorian was left more flustered was debatable, as she’d immediately fled the area and he remained standing on her balcony for several long moments after she’d closed the door, a gloved hand pressed lightly against the spot on his helmet she’d touched.
After a few moments, he collected himself enough to turn his gaze from the doors she’d disappeared behind and back toward the view overlooking the city. Reluctantly, he eased himself back over the balcony’s railing and dropped to the street once again, ready to begin his walk home.
