tritanopia | The Mandalorian

eighteen

Eventually Fae lost track of how much time she had spent on Sorgon. Over the several weeks of preparing for the big fight, every sunset eventually blended into one. All the same, every night, until they simply could not be differentiated. But that didn't bother her — she would never tire of watching the masterpiece of colours blend together, as if painted firsthand by the universe's paintbrush. Mando had noticed, too, the fact that Fae always sat on the windowsill of the barn, legs swinging back and forth absentmindedly, as the vibrant oranges and magentas reflected in her childlike eyes. It was strange for him to see her that way, so carefree, and almost as if she hadn't lived most of her life in her own personal Hell.

Other than those short moments of tranquility, Fae was the exact opposite. It had taken some persistent convincing, taking place over a handful of weeks, but Mando had finally agreed to allow her to take part in the battle. Although, his exact words were, "Fine, but as soon as one thing goes against the plan, you're out of there." And Fae agreed, knowing that that would be the best she would ever get from the man. Besides, she didn't know what he seemed to think he would be able to do if she didn't stick to their compromise — put her in time out?

His main concern when it came to her wasn't tethered to lack of faith in her skills as a fighter — the Gods know the girl could protect herself. No, his main hesitance was related to her eyes, and the fact that he had seen her walk directly into a door first hand one evening. Fae wasn't injured in the incident, but it truly highlighted how dangerous it truly was for her to be without sufficient light; so how the fuck was she supposed to fight an Imperial Walker in the pitched black? He didn't know, but she insisted that it would be fine — and promised to leave the second he told her to. So he relented.

Of course, helping to train the villagers, and train herself occasionally, did serve as a helpful distraction to deter Fae from overthinking the whole thing. From letting herself truly acknowledge the fear which she had buried deep deep down into the abyss of her soul; doing so was a large part of swaying over Mando on the topic in the first place. Although, a major downside to that idea was the nightmares, which had led Fae to simply pretend to sleep for the majority of the time — and, as far as she was aware, she was getting away with it. Even when the dreaded day, or more so night, finally rolled around, Fae's exterior never slipped.

She had watched the sun run away beyond the horizon, seemingly faster than usual; as if it knew what was coming and didn't want to stick around for it, and she was still perched there in the dark when Mando came to find her.

"Fae," He had decided to start with, in an attempt to not startle her. Which worked, perhaps a little too well, because the girl didn't flinch at all — or even move. She simply hummed in acknowledgement, turning her head a fraction towards him. "Me and Cara will be leaving soon, so you should get ready."

He didn't know what Fae was staring at, the village was shrouded in darkness so thickly that he wondered if she could even see something to stare at; but nonetheless, she didn't release her gaze for several more seconds, before she eventually manoeuvred herself to turn around and hop off of the windowsill.

"I am ready," She replied nonchalantly, picking up her knife from the table and sliding it into the sheath on her thigh. The girl didn't look at him, not once, as she made a direct turn to the door and proceeded to leave. But his hand was grasping her bicep before she could make it one foot over the threshold.

"Fae, remember-"

"Yes, I know. Listen to everything you say, and run if things go to shit, which they probably will," She interrupted pointedly, finally turning her head to meet the gaze of his visor, "I've heard it a thousand times."