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The toymaker saw the Mandalorian coming from far down the lane. She’d been watching out for him. When a mythical Mandalorian comes to town, word tends to get around. To the general surprise of the village, this particular warrior did not seem very interested in spreading mayhem. In fact, he barely talked to, let alone fought with, anyone. Not that anyone she knew would be fool enough to cross paths with a legendary bounty hunter. Go around spitting in danger’s face and eventually, it’ll spit back. Or bite. Whichever.
Getting on in years, the toymaker made a point not to stumble into danger. Just so long as trouble doesn’t stumble into her work stall, she was content. Today, however, danger seemed to be coming her way regardless.
She watched with careful apprehension as the Mandalorian cautiously entered her stall. He seemed momentarily overwhelmed by the wide variety of toys, figurines, and gadgets lining her shelves.
It was rather hard to tell with the black helmet on but the man looked as though he was floundering. Of all the notions the toymaker expected of a Mandalorian, hesitation - in any sense, was not one of them.
It made her like him instantly.
“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” she asked politely. She ignored the wildly gesturing butcher whose stall was across from her own who looked as though he was ready to call the authorities. Eyeing the hefty gun across the Mandalorian’s back, the toymaker truly doubted their little village officers would have any sort of a chance anyway.
The Mandalorian started, as if guilty at being caught at something he shouldn’t be doing, and turned to face the toymaker.
“I’m looking for a toy.”
She smiled despite herself. Ah, yes, he was shaping up to be a good young man after all. “Well, you’re in luck. Toys happen to be a specialty of mine.”
That surprised a laugh out of him, and the toymaker had to keep herself from preening at the accomplishment.
“Ah, yes,” the man continued sheepishly. “I can see that. These all look marvelous. I must admit I’m not sure how to even begin choosing one.”
“Well, toymaking a serious business,” the toymaker said with a wink and was rewarded with another huff of laughter. “Tell me about your little one. How old are they? What’s their name? ”
The Mandalorian stiffened and if the toymaker could have seen his face, she was sure a shadow would have crossed over it.
“He’s just an infant,” the man said. The toymaker noted how he carefully skipped over the second question. “Curious little thing. Always getting into things that he shouldn’t. I can barely keep up with him most days.”
The thought of a mischievous child brought another genuine smile to the woman’s face. “My little girl was much the same when she was small,” she said happily. “Always getting into mischief. But then she’d give me her big toothy smile and I just couldn’t stay cross with her.”
“I know the feeling,” the Mandalorian replied, and the toymaker was pleased to note the warmth in his voice. After decades in the toy business, she could always spot the good parents from the poor ones. This man, though hesitant, appeared to have a good heart. He wanted a toy for the child not to simply distract them, but to entertain them. To give them something they truly wanted and would enjoy. A wish for fun was always an excellent start.
The toymaker bustled around her stall for a few moments, muttering to herself as she picked up a series of toys, only to discard them a moment later. Finally, she held up her prize in triumph. “Ah! Here is it! Yes, I think this will do quite nicely.”
Turning back to the Mandalorian, who was standing in the center of her stall watching awkwardly, she held out a hand to offer the toy.
He took it gently and brought it up to his face to examine the colorful contraption. The object was a fairly simple wooden box with six levers on one side, each its own bright color. A small round screen was on the opposite side.
The Mandalorian dubiously pulled one of the levers, and a bright happy tune burst forth. It played for a few seconds before fading away.
“Each of the levers produces a different noise,” the toymaker explained proudly. “And if you push them to the side it displays a little hologram to go along with the music. Do you think your babe will like it?”
“Naa-ha!”
The toymaker started in surprise. There, along the seam of the Mandalorian’s coat, a tiny green hand had thrust its way out. The fingers wiggled as it stretched up for the toy.
“Oh, my!” exclaimed the toymaker. “You’ve got the babe with you! Such a quiet child.”
“Not normally,” the Mandalorian replied wryly as he gently held out the toy for the green hand. The affection in his tone completely changed his voice, and the woman found she much preferred the Mandalorian as a guardian than as anything else she had heard about his people through rumors.
The child, for now the toymaker could see him properly as he stretched half-way out of the man’s hold (and oh what eyes it had!) to gently grasped his toy. The baby needed both hands to fit around the box.
Once the toy was in his grasp, the green infant studied it closely for a moment before pulling the blue lever. A happy tune burst forth and the baby giggled in delight.
“Ahhhhh!” the child cried, gesturing madly between the Mandalorian and the toy, mouth open wide with glee.
“Ok, kid, I get the message,” the Mandalorian grunted, but he couldn’t quite keep a grin out of his voice.
Turning back to the toymaker, he reached into his belt and withdrew a few coins. “Will this be enough?”
Looking down at the coins, she could see it was a very generous offer. “Of course,” the toymaker replied. She jerked her thumb at the child. “Though I warn you, you may not remember me fondly after a few weeks of hearing the same six tunes over and over.”
“I’ll take my chances,” the Mandalorian replied, giving a small bow.
With that, he reached up to gently push the child and his new acquisition back under his cloak.
The toymaker could still hear the child’s happy gurgle as they left. The Mandalorian shook his head and gently shushed him. “Yes, I do see it. Yes, it’s very nice. Didn’t I tell you that I would get you a better toy?”
The toymaker watched the odd pair walk back down the street with a gentle smile. What a odd duo the Mandalorian and green child made. A strange sight, but a happy one.
Turning back to her stall, the toymaker began to straighten the shelves up for her next customer.
She could still hear a soft tune floating back to her on the wind.