Chapter Text
You run.
The moment the airship docked, the moment you noticed that no one had eyes on you, your survival instincts took over and you slipped on a dark nondescript cloak and made your way for the back ramp.
Getting off the ship is easier than you expected, and no one pays you any mind as you leave, but the fear curling in your belly urges you on and forces you to ignore the hunger pangs.
Your owner (ex-owner?) hadn’t been the worst owner you could have had. It had truly been an amiable couple years. He hadn’t been truly kind but you were provided for – you always had food in your belly and a warm place to sleep and occasionally small trinkets that were gifted to you – and that was all you could have asked for. But then he met his mate, who turned out to be a jealous and vindictive woman. She punished you for your very existence in her life, and she finally presented him with an ultimatum: her and their future offspring, or you.
You hadn’t been surprised by his choice – after all, children could only be born of a true mate union.
You had been sent to a slave market, and the moment it was decided, you stopped being provided for. You found yourself scrounging for scraps of leftover food, drank tepid water from the faucet, and gathered whatever shreds of cloth you could hunker down with for the evenings.
You swear you hear shouts behind you, and you run faster. You’re not sure if they’re talking about you, but you can’t take any chances.
You aren’t even sure where you are. You don’t even know what planet you’re on. All you know is that you have to run.
Day turns to dusk as you round corners and duck around equipment, droids, and other airships. Panic starts to set in as you try to find a place to hide for the night.
Just one night, you tell yourself. You’ll give yourself one night to rest, and then you’ll figure out the rest of your escape.
Your eyes finally make out the shape of an air vessel docked a distance away from the others. You cautiously make your way towards it, noticing that it is somewhat hidden, surrounded by building walls and crates of various equipment. You don’t know much about airships but this looks like… well, a piece of junk. Perhaps it’s been abandoned?
As you stealthily make your way to the vessel, you catch an intoxicating scent, and you’re surprised by how distracting it is. You’ve never smelt something so delicious, and for some reason it calms the fear coursing through you.
The scent grows stronger as you approach the vessel, and eventually you make your way behind the loading ramp, crouching down and hiding yourself under its shadows as you try to discern if you’ve been followed. You can’t see or hear anything, so you deem that you are safe, for now.
You curl up into a ball, tucking the edges of the stolen cloak around you as you try to keep your teeth from chattering. It’s chilly, and you hope that you will be able to spend the night hidden before making your way elsewhere. You’re also hungry, and a little thirsty, but you don’t have any credits and you can’t risk stealing food right now. So you rub your stomach in an attempt to momentarily quell the hunger, and you gnaw on the edge of the cloak to distract yourself.
The sound of metal footsteps striding up the ramp wake you from your drowsy state, and the fear of being discovered sets your heart pounding against your ribcage.
The owner of the airship is back. But are they leaving or staying for the night? You chew on your bottom lip nervously as you try to discern their actions.
There is the sudden sound of rustling, and a leather gloved hand grips your arm, harshly yanking you to your feet and spinning you around.
You are delirious from hunger at this point, weak and fatigued, and the world spins as you attempt to right yourself. When you are finally able to focus, you’re looking at the end of a blaster, and he is standing there.
The intoxicating scent grows stronger, permeating your senses to the point that all you can do is stare at him with wide eyes, taking in his appearance. The Beskar helmet and plating are distinctive, and you have heard of him and his people.
He is a being of legends, a Mandalorian.
And right now, he thinks that you are a threat.
You finally swallow, trying to think of what to say to get yourself out of this situation, but he speaks first. His voice is calm, modulated by a vocoder, and he simply asks,
“What are you doing here?”
That simple question is your undoing. Between his calm yet commanding voice and the intoxicating scent, your mind goes blank and instinct takes over as you recognize what this Mandalorian is.
Alpha.
You let out a small cry as you involuntarily step back (stars, he has a strong grip), and for some reason he lets you, although he keeps his blaster trained on you.
You immediately drop down and huddle into yourself, trying to stay warm, and he tilts his mask down in your direction as he waits for you to speak.
“I didn’t… I didn’t know this was your vessel,” you finally whisper, the words coming out hoarse. You carefully avoid looking at him, nausea and dizziness making it difficult for you to look up at him, so instead you keep your eyes trained on the ground in front of him. It’s a little easier for you to confess the little that you’re willing to share. “I just… needed a place to hide. I’ll be quiet and I’ll be gone by morning, I promise. Please.”
You’re not even sure what you’re asking for, or why you feel compelled to explain yourself.
It was a struggle to force the words out. It cost you precious little energy that you didn’t have. You could barely put your words together to address the Mandalorian currently assessing you, but at the very least, if he took you for a threat then your suffering would be over.
It’s harder to keep your eyes open, and you burrow your face into the fold of your arms, forcing the words out as you fight the threat of eternal sleep creeping over you.
“…if you’re going to kill me, please make it quick.”
Your whispered words echo loudly in the silence of the night, and there is a long pause between the both of you.
There is another rustle of movement, and just as you’re at the edge of slumber, you hear a sharp intake of breath. Then the scrape of armor against the ground as he drops to his knees besides you as he whispers with astonishment,
“Mate.”
It’s the last thing you hear before you allow yourself to succumb to darkness.
TBC…