Wrest Pin | The Mandalorian

Chapter Fifteen: The Oath

Note: It probably looks like I have no life posting twice in one day. But I couldn't leave you all hanging for long! And I had free time today. This chapter is where things kind of get off of the plot of season 2. 

***

She wasn't sure how long she sat in that room.

At some point, everything started to look the same. The walls – the floor, the bench she sat upon. It made the anxiety worse, because in the anticipation nothing was happening. Nothing at all. It was almost a complete silence besides the whirling of the ship, footsteps every now and then, and the presence of the sprout that she could no longer ignore in the current situation. She couldn't focus enough to block it out, so its presence only grew by what felt like the passing hours. And she allowed herself to listen – despite the fact it scared her more. Ironically the fear of the sprout was almost greater than the fear of Gideon himself. Evangeline thought that was a terrible thing. Then she remembered Gideon had the baby – and the baby was probably being poked and prodded if that recording had been any indication. She feared they were bleeding him dry, no matter how hard she tried to block the intrusive thoughts from her mind.

She was frightened in her bones.

A part of her wished she had tried harder to convince Mando that the baby needed to stay with them. Maybe if they hadn't gone to Tython...it wouldn't have happened. But it was too late to dwell too much on it, despite the fact she couldn't stop thinking about Gideon being the one to order the deaths of her family members. Of course, he had said that they had fought back and that was what had brought their demises. But they had never learned to fight – always in their teachings...She didn't remember them fighting at all besides her father. But maybe they had. Maybe she was blocking things out again, more denial in a sea of it. It was hard to stand it almost.

Evangeline flinched when the door beside her slid open. To her dismay, Gideon was standing there, and in his hand was a tray of food. Evangeline couldn't help but be reminded of when she had escaped the prison back home. There were no visible vents here. Maybe they had learned from last time. Maybe they had learned from others like her. Gideon took the two steps down to her level, before he came towards her, setting the tray of food on the bench in front of her. Evangeline stared at it...It didn't look bad. Some soup – bread and water. She was in fact hungry, but she simply stared – a part of her holding out.

Gideon hummed, "You should eat. Won't be good for your youngling if you don't."

Youngling. As if he knew anything about that. She watched from the corner of her eye as he moved away, going to stand a bit further, closer to the door again...As if giving her space. Evangeline picked up the spoon, but only twisted it around in her fingers as she tried to glance at him without making it obvious. But she wasn't very good at it because his head tilted at her as if amused, which only frustrated her more and finally she lifted her head fully and stared at him – her face blank...Which was a difficult task for her.

"You're a fascinating one to watch," Gideon commented, causing her to tense where she sat as he went on, "So emotional. And you look as if you know so much, yet not enough at the same time. Almost leads me to believe the Mandalorian took advantage of you."

Evangeline looked away quickly, her face burning. She was not having that conversation with this guy. It was greatly uncomfortable as she gripped the spoon tighter in her hand. He tsked and said, "I mean no harm in my words, Miss Evangeline. I've read extensively on Mandalorian culture. As well as the Seers. It's fascinating how much he truly clashes with your own beliefs..."

He paused, then...

"The Mandalorian and the pacifist. How does something as such come to be?"

"It doesn't," Evangeline ground the words out.