CLARITAS. Part 5 (Din Djarin/Original Female Character)
WORDS: 1.3k || WARNINGS: language
a/n: this chapter is a bit of a filler for needed character development. The fun stuff will pick up again in part 6!
Elliotte spent the rest of the daylight hours gradually tidying up the lower floor of her dwelling. It was a much more slow-paced and grueling task than usual, considering she had use of only one arm. She was definitely attempting to heed the Mandalorian’s suggestion, limiting the use of her injured wrist as much as possible. Still, ever since she was a little girl, she found herself unable to sit still for extended periods of time.
Staying in her house and getting absolutely nothing accomplished was definitely off the table. She found her most success when her mind was occupied with other things, so she didn’t have enough time to get caught up in her own thoughts and worries… like what she was going to bring Rhythimi tonight.
Elliotte had managed to evade this question for the majority of the day, but as Cietovus 8’s light began to wane for the day, she could no longer delay the inevitable.
Rhythimi was a kind and patient woman, who never asked a thing of Ell in the first place—Ell knew she had no expectations for what could be provided to her organization to aid the refugees—but that didn’t mean Elliotte didn’t have her ownexpectations. With a sigh, Elliotte opened her bedside drawer and was met with her small stash of savings.
Elliotte cut it close from week to week, saving herself enough credits for rent and food, and a little bit put aside for an emergency… The rest went to Rhythimi to aid her cause. Ell could afford to take a bit out of her savings to make up for her lost income, right?
CLARITAS. Part 5 (Din Djarin/Original Female Character)
WORDS: 1.3k || WARNINGS: language
a/n: this chapter is a bit of a filler for needed character development. The fun stuff will pick up again in part 6!
Elliotte spent the rest of the daylight hours gradually tidying up the lower floor of her dwelling. It was a much more slow-paced and grueling task than usual, considering she had use of only one arm. She was definitely attempting to heed the Mandalorian’s suggestion, limiting the use of her injured wrist as much as possible. Still, ever since she was a little girl, she found herself unable to sit still for extended periods of time.
Staying in her house and getting absolutely nothing accomplished was definitely off the table. She found her most success when her mind was occupied with other things, so she didn’t have enough time to get caught up in her own thoughts and worries… like what she was going to bring Rhythimi tonight.
Elliotte had managed to evade this question for the majority of the day, but as Cietovus 8’s light began to wane for the day, she could no longer delay the inevitable.
Rhythimi was a kind and patient woman, who never asked a thing of Ell in the first place—Ell knew she had no expectations for what could be provided to her organization to aid the refugees—but that didn’t mean Elliotte didn’t have her ownexpectations. With a sigh, Elliotte opened her bedside drawer and was met with her small stash of savings.
Elliotte cut it close from week to week, saving herself enough credits for rent and food, and a little bit put aside for an emergency… The rest went to Rhythimi to aid her cause. Ell could afford to take a bit out of her savings to make up for her lost income, right?
She sighed and scooped a handful of credits into her palm and hid them away in the pouch attached to her dress’s belt loop. Then, she made her way back downstairs and to the front door. Before she could step onto the porch, something near her foot caught her eye—it was the mug Mando had taken with him when he’d left her house. At some point, he must have come back to return it.
In all honesty, she just assumed he’d keep it. It didn’t seem worth making a trip back just to leave it at her doorstep—It was a simple gesture that touched the musician’s heart. Elliotte bent to retrieve it, smiling to herself as she returned to the kitchen to place it in the sink. She’d wash it once she returned.
Once that was taken care of, she made her way back outside and shut the door behind her. The streetlamps were already beginning to illuminate the faint light, brightening Elliotte’s path as she walked. Although Rhythimi’s dwelling was a bit out of the way, Ell knew the route like the back of her hand. It hardly felt like a trek anymore.
Before too long, she’d arrived at her destination. She approached the front porch and knocked in code. The door swung open almost immediately and Rhythimi’s head peeked out, red hair kept in place by dozens of tiny white flowers weaved intricately between the strands. “Come in, Elliotte.”
She stood back and held the door open so Ell could make her way inside. A couple of greetings from the refugees in the common rooms was quick to follow, and Ell gave them a smile and wave before returning her attention to Rhythimi, whose gaze immediately latched on to her gauze-wrapped arm. “The hell happened?” She asked, her voice tinged with thinly disguised panic.
“Goddamn noble tried to get handsy. I’m fine, It’s just a sprain… but see, that’s the problem… I won’t be able to play for a few days, so…” Ell reached for the pouch of credits attached to her belt and passed them to her red-headed friend.
Rhythimi pocketed the fabric-wrapped currency and her delicate hands gently found their way to Elliotte’s wrist, lightly turning her arm over and careful not to hurt her. “We’ll manage, Elliotte… you poor dear. Did he…?”
“No. No, he didn’t. He seemed to come to his senses rather quickly.”
“Good. That’s good. Did you wrap this by yourself…? It’s very precise for only having use of one hand.”
“Oh. No, I had some help… a Mandalorian I met this morning,” Ell said, gingerly retracting her arm from her friend’s grip.
Rhythimi’s eyes shot up quickly. “A Mandalorianis here?”
“Yes. He’s come here in search of fuel. Same as everyone here.”
“Curious… I don’t remember ever seeing one on Listronus. He must come from far away,” Rhythimi mumbled, speaking more to herself than Ell, “… But never mind that for a moment. Sit on the stairs. You could use some artresmour…”
Elliotte opened her mouth to insist that it wasn’t necessary, but before she could, she was being guided to sit and Rhythimi was already taking her place behind her on the stairs, untying the little white flowers from her hair and transferring them into Elliotte’s blonde curls.
A few moments of peaceful silence filled the space between them before Elliotte spoke again. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to bring in any extra credits for a bit… I’ll try to get back to work as soon as possible.”
“Don’t push yourself. If you go back too quickly, you could do some permanent damage. That’ll do none of us any good.”
“But—”
“Elliotte. We’ll be fine,” Rhy replied, pausing to guide her friend’s gaze to the living room where several refugees gathered together, telling stories and laughing, enjoying each other’s company. “Some things are more important than money. We have each other, don’t we? Besides, you get the hard part of this deal… while I get to spend my days surrounded by people with fire in their eyes and love in their hearts, youget to have your wrist sprained by the selfish and ignorant, who know nothing more about you than the silver on your arm.”
At her words, Ell’s gaze shifted to her hands folded across her lap. One forearm was wrapped in gauze—the other wrapped in carved silver, a symbol of an unpayable debt to the royal court. She couldn’t decide which arm made her feel more trapped and powerless.
“You have a bleeding heart, Elliotte,” Rhy said, and Ell was sure she could hear the playful smirk in her voice. “Perhaps you could get your Mandalorian to wrap that for you, too.”
Elliotte reached around to smack her friend with her good arm, and Rhythimi’s hands quickly fell away from her hair as she ducked aside to evade the onslaught, laughing all the while.
“Don’t be so ruthless, Rhy! Haven’t I had a difficult enough day without your torment?”
“Enough theatrics,” Rhythimi replied with a playful roll of her eyes before settling back in behind her and once again returning to her artresmour. “If you want realtorment, I could always bring up the subject of Stangrid Lun!”
Elliotte let out a horrified groan and let her face fall into her palms. “Please don’t mention that wretched man. My mother, Maker rest her soul, was a huge believer in the idea of arranged marriages. I, however, am not.”
Rhythimi laughed as she tied off a row of white flowers and began on the next. “I remember that day so fondly—Stangrid was never one to… take hints, was he? He tried his luck with that kiss of his and next thing he knew he was up to his shoulders in stream water!”
Elliotte offered a chuckle at the memory. “I didn’t know it was possible to call off a wedding that quickly! Neither did my father, I suppose. I got a real tongue-lashing for it that night. Between you and I, though, I’d do it againin a heartbeat!”
“I know this. I’m incredibly surprised you didn’t end up laying that nobleman out in one hit this morning—or did you conveniently leave that part out of your retelling?”
“No, no. No noblemen were knocked out this morning, at least by my hand! If word about that gets out, every bit of my career could be ruined in a matter of hours,” Elliotte answered.
“Unfortunately, I think you’re right. As much as I know you hate it, it’s best to bite your tongue and… bide your time.”
