Promises are made to be broken. Deals are made to be kept.
[The Mandalorian Season 1-2]
I do not own the Mandalorian or any of the Star Wars Universe characters/settings. I own Alora and her unique story.
Prequel to Promises and Deals --> Truth...
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Biding her time, Alora walks alongside the Child and the Mandalorian peacefully. She puts up no fuss, no fight. Some might say she failed, but she had seen the way the Mandalorian looked at the Child and vise versa. She had always been a good judge of character; this Mandalorian may not be like the last one she encountered. She may not have to drop him into the dunes of Tatooine this time.
The Child watches them walk gleefully, his ears flicking up with each sound. Alora knows they have sand lizards following them, and she is sure the Child wants nothing more than to eat one. If she could, she'd tell him to be patient.
A chill runs down her spine; she stops walking, looking around. The chittering has gone silent.
"What is it?" The Mandalorian asks, noting her pause.
She smirks.
A Nikto jumps down from above, slamming the Mandalorian's weapon down. Alora grabs the Child's crib, pulling them away as the Mandalorian fights the incoming warriors. She must admit, he fights beautifully. She knows those moves from her own training. The Child also appears impressed.
He takes three down easily, but the last one charges at the Child. Alora steps in front of him, smiles, and sends her skull into his before swiping her leg out to knock him down. She takes out a dagger the Mandalorian missed when disarming her and strikes the Nikto in the neck, blood spraying her face.
As she stands, she wipes away the blood and looks back up at the Mandalorian who is slowly lowering his blaster. "You know I have to take that now, right?" He asks.
She shrugs, tossing it at his feet. I don't need a weapon to kill you.
They both notice the tracking fob now lying abandoned on the desert ground.
Before long, they find a safe place to stay for the night. The Mandalorian starts a fire as the sun starts to set while Alora stares at the sunset. She'd missed so many caring for the Child so enamored with beskar steel that she'd forgotten how many colors could come from a single day.
She ignores the Mandalorian attempting to cauterize the wound on his arm until the Child himself climbs out of his crib. Sitting up a bit straighter, she narrows her eyes at the Child, watching him approach the warrior with an outstretched hand.
She knows what he is trying to do as he begins to close his eyes.
Whisking him up, she places him back in the crib before pressing her finger to his nose playfully. The Child, now distracted, giggles happily, grabbing at her finger before pressing it to his cheek.
The Mandalorian watches them closely. She could care less what he thinks. This Child is her creed. She let him take them. They all have their reasons.
As Alora sits back down, she groans when she notices the Child once again going towards the Mandalorian's wounded arm. The Mandalorian moves first, setting the Child back in his crib and sealing it. She pouts when he looks back at her. "What? Anything to say?" He asks as he sits back down. "You got a name?"
