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brokenbeskar · 10 months

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Temporary

Chapter 12 of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 4.7k A/N: WHEW it's been awhile again woops! Sorry this is a shorter one, I'm already writing the next part though so hopefully it shouldn't be too long before the next update. I realized recently while reading other fics that as much as i love a good long chapter, i prefer the shorter ones because theyre easier to read. ALSO this was the only good place to end this chapter (you'll see what i mean) anyway! Thank you all for your kind comments on the last chapter I appreciate you all <3 Hope you enjoy!

“What’s going on?” You demand more than ask for an answer. The urgency in his voice causes your own panic to surge in your throat.

And then you hear a branch snap behind you.

You whip around to look behind you, but there's nothing.

“Coordinates! Now!” You barely hear the mandalorian shout through the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, but it’s enough to kick you into gear.

You quickly punch your coordinates into your vambrace and send them his way, before rushing to scan your surroundings when you hear more rustling in the distance.

“Be quick.” You warn him through the comm, with a shaky exhale “I don’t think I’m alone out here.”

You aren’t one to lose your composure easily, but something about the panic in the mandalorian’s voice–the fear. It’s so unlike him and that alone is enough to send a sharp chill through your veins.

“I’m not far. Stay put.” He barks through the comm, and the static stops when he signs off.

The silence is deafening. Stay put. Easier said than done. Every part of you is telling you otherwise. You glance up to the shredded bark above you. It’s not safe to stay put. You pull the kid closer to your chest and cautiously scan the dense line of trees, barely even breathing so you can hear anything before it can even think about sneaking up on you.

Not even a minute has passed, but Maker it feels like an eternity. Fuck it, you’re going to head back towards the creek. It’s not that far from the coordinates you sent, the Mandalorian was smart enough to find you, and truth be told, you were starting to feel far too claustrophobic in these trees.

Just as you go to take a step in the direction of the creek however, you hear more rustling from behind you, but this time when you turn you see something dash just past your vision. You don’t hesitate a second to pull out your blaster, pointing towards where you saw the shadow and–

And then it’s gone.

Like it was nothing more than your mind playing tricks on you. Only you can still hear whatever it is somewhere in the dense treeline. You take a couple steps back slowly, quickly shifting the aim of your blaster to either side of you. Darting from one spot to the next, trying desperately to make out where this damn thing is hiding. The nature of the forest makes it sound like it's coming from everywhere all at once.

Cautiously you just focus on one step back at a time. You didn’t have a choice now, you needed to get into some kind of clearing for visibility’s sake. You need a clear shot at whatever it is that's out here with you. One more slow step–

SNAP

Your heart jumps to your throat with the sound echoing through the trees like a damn gunshot, you don’t even have time to register if it came from you, or someone else before you see a shape dart past the trees again. Much closer this time.

You shoot blindly in the direction you think it went, but nothing but bark splitters from your shot. You don’t waste a second before turning around and sprinting as quick as you can towards the creek, the child pressed tight against you.

And then you find yourself hoping the Mandalorian reaches you quicker than you originally were hoping when you hear whatever it is following close behind you, snapping through the branches and tearing through the bark behind you. You don’t even turn to look, you just need to get out of there, and fast.

You dip frantically between trees, under branches, and over roots. You’re not even sure you’re heading in the right direction. Your vision tunnels to any clear space between two trees and can dive through. The child in your arms lets out small sounds of distress and you can only keep your clutch on him as you keep running, the creature only a few paces behind you.

You think you can see a clearing ahead of you, just a few feet away where the light coming through the line of trees seems brighter than anywhere else in the forest. You quickly pick up the pace, careful to avoid colliding directly with any foliage. You hear him before you see him, the Mandalorian is catching up, you can hear his rising phoenix somewhere above the treeline, and he’s close. Thank the Maker. He shouts to you when he catches sight of you and dives down into the treeline to grab you.

You hear whatever it is behind you let out a horrible screeching sound, and it sends a chill through your bones. You hear it crashing through the trees behind, the horrible rip and tear through the bark and the snapping beneath its weight just as the Mandalorian reaches to grab you. You turn your head for just a moment, you want to know how close it is, want to know what it is that's following you.

What a mistake that was.

You instantly trip just before the Mandalorian can grab you, and by instinct you reach out and grab at him, snatch a handful of the cape bunched up by his neck in an attempt to catch yourself. Instead you throw him off balance and next thing you know, you’re both tumbling through the forest floor, in the chaos hes not able to disable his boosters, so the both of you end up slamming tree, against tree, before quickly being redirected in a different direction, like Mandalorian pinball.

You’re spinning and tumbling so fast you can’t even see where you are or what's going on, the only thing you can hear above the roar of his rising phoenix is the pained grunts from him and yourself and a shriek from the child. It’s a blur of brown and green and grey, and you think you're going to be sick until suddenly there’s a long flash of blue–and you realize you're free falling. What you know must be seconds feels like eternity as the three of you burst through the treeline, and directly off a cliff. The air stops short in your lungs, stolen away in the sudden loss of gravity.

With the three of you still spinning, your free fall is short lived, his boosters end up accelerating you in the wrong direction, and you go slamming painfully right into the rocky cliff side. You aren’t really sure what happens next. You get a couple flashes of brown, dirt filling into your helmet, pain, and the repeated reminder to protect the kid at all costs.

-----------------------------------------------------

You startle awake on the dirt ground, your heart kickstarts back to what it was during the chase, and you scramble to try to get to your feet in a panic.

“Relax. You’re safe.” A familiar modulated voice tells you, and you shoot your gaze over to see the Mandalorian sitting on the other side of the fire.

Fire? You realize you can’t see shit. Your visor is caked in so much dirt from the fall it's making the picture all blown out and fuzzy. You quickly run your gloved hand over the front and wipe away what you can for the moment.

You take a quick look around and realize not only is it dark out now, but you’ve been out long enough for the Mandalorian to clear out a small camp and assemble a fire. He’s got his pack open, his medkit out and rummaged through, you see why when you notice the kid with a couple bandages sitting happily next to him kicking his feet while he pokes at the fire with a long stick.

You slowly relax and settle down to sit on the dirt, sticking one leg out in front of you when you realize how much pain you're in.

“How long was I out for?” You ask, absentmindedly running a hand over your right arm to make sure you’re still intact.

“Few hours.” He replies plainly, watching the kid intently probably to make sure he doesn’t burn himself.

You groan and lay back down onto your back. Maker, everything hurts. You feel like that's becoming more common these days, more often than not you and the Mandalorian are getting into some kind of trouble that results in either you, him, or the both of you seriously beat up. You’re exhausted.

“Get some rest.” He finally looks up at you, “It’s best we stay here until morning.”

You loll your helmet in his direction, feeling the dirt grind against the back of it, “you seemed like you were in a rush to get out of here earlier, now you want to stay until morning?”

He tilts his helmet to motion to where his rising phoenix sits propped up next to him.

“Rising Phoenix got damaged in the crash.” He looks in the direction you assume the three of you fell from, “It’s going to take us a couple days to get out of here.”

You sigh and look up towards the stars twinkling in the distance.

“So much for an easy job” You scoff to yourself, and the Mandalorian hums in agreement.

You listen to the crackle of the flames from the fire, as you continue to stare out to the stars. You shift your eyes, without moving your helmet to watch the Mandalorian and the child out of the corner of your visor undetected. You can’t help but be intrigued by him, he sits intently watching the fire appearing as calm as ever. You can see his chestplate move slightly with each breath he takes, the reflection of the flame shifting slightly as he breathes.

It amazes you, how calm and collected he can be after everything that just happened, how he manages to stay so put together despite everything going to shit. Then you remember how he sounded earlier, how his voice sounded earlier today–panicked and urgent. You find it weird he hasn’t mentioned anything about it yet.

“What happened out there?” You finally decide to ask, “When you were out there alone, why did you comm me?”

He doesn’t look up from the fire, continues peering into the flames.

“I saw something.” He tells you, “I’m not so sure it’s as relevant as I first thought though.”

You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t and the two of you sit in silence longer than you’d like.

“Well…what was it?” You finally ask, turning your head to look at him fully.

He looks up from the flames for a moment to regard you, as if debating whether or not to tell you, and you find yourself growing impatient. You feel the two of you have been through enough that he can trust you. Not to mention whatever it was seemed pretty serious, you feel like you have a right to know.

“I saw an imperial shuttle in the forest.” He finally relents.

“Imperial?” You immediately sit up to face him fully. You find yourself even more confused now, a million questions burning on the back of your tongue, “The empire is long gone, it was probably abandoned.” You try to reason.

“No. The empire is very much alive.” He’s quick to assure you, “The ship was operational, just idle. I saw heat signatures from where I was hiding out. I couldn’t get close, I didn't want to risk it.” You sit there perplexed for a moment. You find yourself with more and more questions with each passing moment. You had heard of some remaining imperials scattered throughout the galaxy, but nothing to be worried about as far as you knew. And what would they be doing here? More importantly, why would this shake him up to that degree?

It’s only at this moment you realize just how much you still don’t know about him.

“Do you…have trouble with the empire?” You ask with a slight tilt of your helmet. You were desperate for information, but you didn’t want to press any further than necessary, worried he might shut down completely if you try your luck.

“They’re after the kid.” He nods in the direction of the child, “An imperial warlord by the name of Moff Gideon has been after us since I took the child in my care.” He turns back to face you fully.

“When I saw it and realized it was operational, I got worried this job was a setup to get the kid.” He explains.

Suddenly everything makes a little more sense now. His sense of urgency, his worry about the child…But to think this whole time you’ve been traveling with him he never once brought it up.

“What do they want with him?” You watch as the child in question tilts his head at you with an inquisitive stare.

“Not sure,” The Mandalorian admits, “But I assume it has something to do with his powers.”

“Powers?” You nearly shout in shock, “What do you mean ‘powers’?!”

“It’s why I’m looking for a jedi to take him on.”

You sit there absolutely dumbfounded. You’ve been traveling with the two of them for months now and somehow this is the first time you’re hearing about any of this.

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“It didn’t come up.”

“I feel like that is important information for me to know.”

He stays silent for a long while, and you think that might be the end of the conversation until he speaks up.

“I’m sorry.” He starts, looking back to the fire, "You’re right, that is important information for you to know if you're going to be traveling with us.” He pauses and looks back to you, “I didn’t think about it especially with everything else going on, so I’m sorry.”

You stare back at him in disbelief. It felt sort of out of character for him, or at least…felt out of character for how you imagine him. Ultimately, it didn’t change anything. The reality is you’ve been unknowingly putting yourself at risk by traveling with him, making yourself a target to the empire just by working with him. You don’t really care though. You appreciate his apology more than you thought you would. You feel like if a similar conversation would have happened earlier in your time traveling together, he would have doubled down and not admitted fault or acknowledged your feelings. More than that, you're surprised how readily you're willing to fully accept his apology.

It’s interesting just how quickly things between you evolved, you wonder how much of it is him and how much of it is just you. A part of you knows you are particularly critical of him, resistant to see the best in him. You can’t help it. You find it so difficult these days to fully trust anyone, especially him, and you’re realizing how much the two are still truly getting to know each other. So much of him is still shrouded in mystery for you, like some kind of armored enigma that simply exists next to you.

It doesn’t help that some part of your brain still hasn’t fully registered the reality of him–he doesn’t feel real. You don’t fully comprehend that he’s a person under all that armor, that he too has thoughts, feelings, and memories as complex as your own, that his heart probably pounds as much as yours does in times of stress.

You’re realizing this whole time you’ve been almost defiantly resistant to seeing him as a person, you see him more like a passing shadow, a ghost, noise in the background of things you have to do. He’s just kind of…there. Like one day you’ll wake up alone in your old ship again, like him and the kid never truly existed in your life. It all feels so…temporary, you realize. Him, the kid, you, the job–like nothing has any real consequence, like you’re just going through the motions now…

“It’s okay.” You finally tell him with a nod, “We’ve been busy.” Your gaze settles into the flames in front of you. You watch as the flames dance and shake, the wood pops and small embers quickly dissipate as they hit the cold air. He doesn’t say anything back, and the two of you sit in silence for a long while.

“Did you see what it was?” You finally ask, bringing yourself back to the present, and feeling the need to fill the silence.

He doesn’t reply, just looks back up at you, as if wordlessly asking for you to elaborate.

“The creature that was after us. Did you see what it was?”

“Didn’t get a good look at it.” He admits, “What information did you get when you first heard about it?”

You shake your head, “The manager at the coffee shop just said it was a customer rumor. I never had a description other than what the mayor gave us.”

He makes a noise in acknowledgement, returning his gaze to the flame.

“Why did you go to a coffee shop if you hate caf?” He suddenly asks you out of nowhere, and you’re blindsided.

You freeze. How do you even begin to explain it to him? There's no way he would understand. You aren’t even necessarily sure you know yourself. It feels so ridiculous if you were being honest with yourself. You weren’t really thinking about the job at all, just reminiscing about when life was more simple, when life was easy. When it felt like you had no worries other than being bored.

You stare into the orange flame of the fire between you.

Your earlier reflection weighs heavy on your mind.

Temporary.

The word echoes in your mind and you let out a deep breath.

“Felt like home.” You finally admit. You reduce all your complex thoughts and feelings of longing and nostalgia into those three words. You still aren’t sure he’ll understand, but you figure it’s better than leaving him waiting.

You sit for a second in the silence, you think back to your time on Naboo, the time you feel like the trust between the two of you peaked, when you were at your most vulnerable and he met you halfway. When you spilled your tears on his shoulder, and he only pulled you in closer. When you half-dazed and nearly drunk, sobbed your feelings into his arms and he readily held them for you while he walked you back to the ship, comforting you with understanding and words that you still repeat to yourself on occasion.

Temporary…

You think again, but you realize it only feels that way because you make it that way. You put up walls and avoid the truth. You haven’t bothered to see him as a person because you were avoiding him . You didn’t want to see him or the kid as anything other than temporary.

But you made a choice. You made the choice to continue to travel with them, you made the choice to stay .

You take a deep breath in.

“My um… my parents were mechanics. I hated the work, so I used to run a little caf take-out window out the side of my parents' hangar.” You force yourself to open up. Decide at that moment to make a conscious effort.

He tilts his head at that. You worry for a second he can hear your thoughts, that he knows the internal struggle you just went through, and is caught off guard by the fact you’re deciding to open up.

“Why, if you don’t like caf?” He asks.

You find yourself chuckling both in relief that he can’t hear your thoughts, and the simplicity of the question.

“I used to love it,” You explain, looking down at your dirty, gloved hands, “Used to love the taste, the smell, making it–I loved everything about it. I was always trying to come up with new things to try, find new ways to brew it, and find what tasted best. I took a lot of pride in my work.”

He watches you closely while you speak, but doesn’t say anything. He just…let’s you talk. He waits for you to elaborate, to tell more about whatever information you’re willing to offer. If you didn’t know any better, you would think it’s because he likes hearing you talk, that he also wants to get to know you better and open up.

“And I loved my customers.” You continue unprompted, “ I was in a commuter town, and because of my parents’ hangar, a lot of the customers who stopped by were only there while they waited for repairs or fuel. At the time I had never been off-world, so I would always pester them to hear their stories about the rest of the galaxy.” You can’t help the smile that forms on your face as your reminisce.

“What changed?” He asks.

You find yourself caught off guard, your smile quickly fading. You feel all your walls suddenly come back up at once. It’s not his fault, and you know that, but it was too much for you to unpack yourself, let alone to him. You clasp your hands together and squeeze, your gloves straining at the force. The sour feeling in your stomach returning all at once.

“Too much.” Is all you offer him, looking down at the ground besides you, avoiding his gaze.

he doesn't pry. Part of you hopes that since Naboo, the two of you have gotten better at figuring out each other's boundaries–when it's okay to ask questions, and when it's best to let the silence settle. You hope he doesn’t take it personally. That he understands that you each had your own struggles and traumas to work through, and that you respected one another to give the space to do that.

"we should get some rest." he reminds you, more gentle this time.

You give him a silent nod of your helmet and settle back into the dirt. you watch out of the corner of your eye as the Mandalorian does the same, laying on his back into the dirt but shoving his pack underneath his helmet for a makeshift pillow. The kid is quick to follow, nestling in the crook of his arm. which the Mandalorian is quick to pull him into his side. you watch as the kid lets out a little yawn before his eyes quickly begin to fall shut.

It wasn't exactly ideal, sleeping in the dirt like this, but the warmth of the fire is a luxury you will never take for granted. you rest your hands over your stomach as you peer back out into the starry night sky. It's funny, knowing that one of those stars is your old home. it still feels unreal to you still. that somewhere, on one of those tiny specs of light, your hometown rests without you.

you can feel the dirt caked under your clothes, an uncomfortable grit under your gloves between your fingers, at the edges of your boots, scratching at your neck between the fabric of your under clothes. you take a deep breath, trying to close your eyes to sleep, but instead finding them open again, full of starlight.

involuntarily your mind wanders to home, to your little caf window. You wonder if it's still there, if your parents kept it or just started using it for storage. you wonder how your favorite regulars are doing–if they're still alive, if anyone in your hometown thinks about you at all, or miss the taste of your caf, or if they simply found somewhere else to get it.

Your thoughts float to your favorite regular. The one who you would wait weeks–sometimes months in anticipation for them to show up again, the one you would go out of your way to make their drink extra special when they stopped by, get caught up talking to for hours, and rarely ever charge, despite them trying to pay you anyway…

***

"Is it too late for me to buy a cup of caf from you?" a voice rings out from the customer window.

you reply with your back turned as you finish dumping the cleaner from one of your brewers, "I'm so sorry but unfortunately I am closed for the night–" you turn to address them fully, but freeze in your tracks when you see a familiar armored figure leaning against the window frame, holding your curtain open just enough for him.

"Hey..." he says quietly, almost shy when you turn to face him, trying to play it cool.

"Ko'van?" you gasp excitedly, dropping everything to rush over to the window, leaning enthusiastically over the counter, "What are you doing here?"

He chuckles lightly, "Well, funny thing…you see, I was working a job in the outer rim and my ship just so happened to get caught up in an asteroid field. Sooo I figured since I needed some repairs anyway, I uh…" his tone lowers to something much softer, much more genuine, "I figured I would stop by to pay you a visit." he leans forward a bit closer to you over the counter.

your heartbeat quickly picks up at the change in his tone and the sudden proximity. You find yourself completely in awe whenever you see him again, like you're seeing him for the first time, like you forget what it's like to be in his presence, drawn to him like a magnet, the haunting void of his visor, the intimidating nature of the armor.

But then a playful smile fills your features. you see right through him.

"There's nothing wrong with your ship is there?" You squint at him, leaning in a little further, accusatory.

He looks taken aback for a second, caught off guard by your accusation, and he fumbles, "w-what? of course there's something wrong with my ship, I told you, I got caught up in an asteroid field–"

"You also told me you're an exceptionally skilled pilot…" You stand straighter, crossing your arms in front of you, reminding him of his attempts to brag the last time he visited, "so either you aren't as skilled as you say you are…"

He goes to defend himself, but you cut him off before he can, "Or," you uncross your arms, leaning across the counter again with a soft smile, "You just needed an excuse to come see me again."

His shoulders instantly relax, letting out a breath as shakes his head with a quiet chuckle.

"So, can I still get some caf?" he tilts his helmet playfully, effectively admitting defeat by changing the subject.

"You hate caf." you laugh.

"I like it when you make it." his voice drops to a more flirtatious tone, and he leans in, an arm propped up on the frame of your window.

"I'm closed." you pretend to be annoyed, turning around to wipe down a counter.

"What time are you off then?"

you pause wiping the counter, smiling wide to yourself. It was impossible to resist him. With a deep breath in, you throw your rag over your shoulder, turning back around to face him fully.

"I can try to wrap everything up ten, is that okay?"

"I'd wait years if you asked me to."

"Would you shut up?" you laugh balling up your rag and chucking it at him playfully.

he catches it with a laugh, and carefully sets it back down on your counter.

"I'll see you in a bit." he tells you enthusiastically. he lingers just a moment longer, hesitating, just watching you, like he can’t bear to be away from you, before he finally lets the curtain to your window close, and waits for you to finish closing.

***

SNAP

You shoot awake at the sound, not realizing you had dozed off. The Mandalorian is already on high alert, blaster drawn and the child pulled tight in his arm.

“What was that?” You try to ask, still trying to regain your bearings as you hear more rustling through the treeline.

The Mandalorian doesn’t look at you, he keeps his visor trained on the treeline, focusing. The rustling continues, circling the treeline around the clearing of your camp. It sounded big and just as you put the pieces together, the Mandalorian’s voice drops down to a dangerous level as if reading your mind…

"it's back."

*** Prev - MASTER - Next (coming soon!) Taglist: @mysun-n-stars , @tanzthompson , @janebby , @um-well

#the mandalorian #din x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x you #mando x reader #memories reforged #MR

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brokenbeskar · 1 year

Text

Urban Legends

Chapter 11 of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 6k

Summary: After your previous failed job, you and the Mandalorian have to find a way to repair your reputation with the guild A/N: Long time no see friends! Thank you all for being so patient during my *checks notes* OVER A YEAR LONG HIATUS? I posted a personal update if you want to know more, but im happy to be back and writing again! and im glad i got this out before the season 3 premier! I hope y'all enjoy!

You shoot awake, eyes wide and drenched in a cold sweat, heart racing as the lingering images of your nightmare slowly give way to the familiar cockpit around you. It’s like deja vu. The familiar low whirring sound of the engine, soft beeping from the control panel, and smearing starlight through the cockpit allowing you to relax and calm your breathing. How strange it feels to know that all of this could have been so different, yet you're still here. It feels like it’s been months, years even, despite truthfully only being a day and some change…but here you are. Back on the Mandalorian’s ship, back in hyperspace, waking up in the copilot's chair, as if you weren’t planning on never returning just days ago.

You sigh and run a hand over your face to wipe away some of the remaining sweat. As you lean back to acclimate to being awake, you glance over to your helmet resting on the dashboard. The blur of hyperspace illuminating its visor, and twinkling particularly bright along the seam of a crack through the corner of it. Each glint of passing stars an achingly familiar reminder of the cause.

“Morning.” You mutter to it, as if he could still somehow hear you, and quiet enough that no one else could. Almost like a secret, you muse to yourself.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the ridiculous thought and lean forward to pluck a few bounty pucks off the top of the nav comp. You shuffle through them and click one to life, reading through the information with a sigh. Nearly on cue you hear the familiar footfalls of your newest comrade, followed by the sound of the cockpit doors sliding open as the Mandalorian enters.

“Kid still sleeping?” You ask as he makes his way through.

“Yeah. Anything good?” He returns as he settles into his seat.

“Well, let’s see…” You shuffle through the set of pucks in your hand, holding them up as you list them off, “Missing person, another missing person, chump change for a bail jumper, and would you look at that!” you flick one to life and hold it out in your palm for him to see, “A teenage runaway with a misdemeanor from the mid rim!”

The Mandalorian stares at it for a moment in what you can only guess is frustrated disbelief, before turning away with a sigh.

“Karga is really fucking us over.” You toss the pucks back to where you grabbed them from and lean back into your seat.

“We’re lucky he gave us any at all.”

“We would have been better with nothing at all.” You retort, “They’re scattered across multiple sectors, they aren’t even worth enough to cover the fuel.”

“Well, unless you have any other ideas, we have to bring our reputation back up somehow or we’ll never get a decent job again.”

“That’s bantha shit!” You shout, drawing his gaze back to you, “One job shouldn’t have screwed us over that much. We turned her in! How many other hunters had her puck before us and couldn’t even get close? I know it wasn’t perfect, but we still did the job for fucks sake!” You groan in frustration before sinking into your seat defeated.

“There’s nothing we can do about it.” He reminds you, grabbing one of the pucks randomly to check the coordinates and put them into the nav comp.

You roll your eyes, bitterly crossing your arms. It’s true, there was nothing you could do other than get these jobs done as quickly as possible and hope you get some better ones soon…

Unless…

You quickly sit up straight and lean over the edge of your seat, shoving the Mandalorian’s hand out of the way and altering the ship’s route yourself.

“What are you doing?” He asks, irritated by your sudden brashness.

“We’re going to Carajam.” you reply nearly absentmindedly, brushing him off entirely as you continue to input the exact coordinates you have memorized by this point.

“Carajam? That’s halfway across the galaxy!” He grabs your wrist to stop you.

“You think I don’t know that?” You lock eyes with his visor, refusing to back down as you try to tug your wrist back.

“So then why would we go there?” He asks darkly and leans in slightly, probably as an attempt to intimidate you. And while you can admit he’s intimidating, he doesn’t intimidate you in the slightest.

You give him a sly quirk of a smile, “To give a little visit to an old friend of mine.”

He tilts his helm in question, so you clarify, “I get double the commission rate on guild bounties. Remember?”

It takes him a moment to figure out what you’re talking about, to remember your initial exchange when you first agreed to work together back on Jakku and split the reward for the bomber. You see the realization hit him all at once and he only gives a small hum of acknowledgement before releasing your wrist and opting to silently reroute the ship’s course himself.

“I’m glad we’re in agreement.” You state smugly, before leaning back into your seat, suddenly much more comfortable with that victory hanging over you.

----------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately, Carajam being halfway across the galaxy wasn’t exactly an exaggeration on his part. So it’s not too long before you end up needing to take a pit stop along the way for fuel. Your first stop is on some smaller planet in the mid rim you never bothered to get the name of. It’s quaint, but the capital city you stopped in was well developed, a bustling city surrounded by lush green, a frequent running train passing overhead and far above the treeline to more remote areas. You definitely appreciated the balance between the latest developments while still maintaining the natural landscape.

“Fuel’s going to take a few hours.” The Mandalorian steps beside you, interrupting your admiration, “We should try to find some work while we’re here.” He follows your line of sight and peers out at the expansive treeline and sky train above. Watching silently beside you.

“Not sure there’s going to be much work here.” You reply, not breaking your gaze, “seems peaceful.”

“It’s usually the peaceful ones I find the most trouble in.” He argues, and you chuckle in agreement, finally breaking your gaze and turning to him instead.

“Guess we better get to work then.”

He turns back to you and nods, “Let’s split up, I’ll take the kid and start along the city’s perimeter.”

“Center stage, you got it.” You give him a little salute and waste no time turning on your heel towards the heart of the city, “Comm me if you get anything good!”

Walking through the city reminded you a lot of your time back on your home planet. You lived in a smaller “pit-stop” town, but when you were a kid your dad would take you to the capital city sometimes to get parts for the shop, or for a little day trip. It used to be the most exciting part of your boring everyday life. You remember how fascinating it was that things were so different despite being only a day’s trip away by train, and fantasizing how different things could be on different planets.

Funny enough, here you are, years later, several parsecs from your home planet, thinking how similar things are back home.

It’s easy to lose yourself in the buzz of city life. Reminisce about a simpler time, before the armor, before bounty hunting, before Ko’van even. A time when you simply ached to see the stars and explore the galaxy to see it for what it was. It’s that exact nostalgia that leads you into a local Caf shop. Nothing reminded you of home quite like freshly ground and roasted Caf.

A bell rings when you make your way inside, alerting the servers bustling about to welcome you in. Everything was different, yet so familiar. From the sound of grinding beans, to the sharp whistle of steaming milk, and the delicious aroma in the air, if you closed your eyes you almost could pretend you were getting ready to get behind the bar and make some drinks yourself. It was definitely busier than your little take out window back home. Plenty of patrons filled the establishment, idly sipping their drinks and absorbing the calm atmosphere, a sight you would have been envious of had things worked out a little differently for you.

When you approach the counter, a beautiful young local girl startles and quickly puts down the filters she was prepping, wide eyed and nervous from your presence alone.

“Were you ready to order?” She nervously asks, putting on her best customer service smile despite her palatable fear.

“Actually, I’m not from around here, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?” You try to come off as friendly with a slight tilt of your helmet–but with the way her complexion visibly lightens, and the audible gulp that follows…you’re pretty positive your intentions aren’t coming across.

“Uhm…” Her voice quivers and she quickly looks around for any available coworkers to save her from the situation, but when she sees no one she turns back to you with a weary smile, “Let me…um…get my manager for you. Go ahead and take a seat, I’ll get a drink started for you while you wait!” She tries to diffuse a nonexistent conflict.

You try to tell her it’s okay! That you don’t need a drink. you can go somewhere else! But in her haste she ignores you and you end up deciding to take the seat anyways, not wanting to be rude after you nearly made her cry already just from walking in and existing in the same space as her. You don’t even drink caf anymore.

What a mistake.

Of course she would react like that. You let yourself get carried away in your memories that you forgot the reality of the present. The reality of what you seem like to other people. Trouble.

You’re mentally cursing yourself alone at a seat at the bar when, what you assume the manager, walks up to you with two drinks in hand.

“Excuse me,” She grabs your attention, “I heard you had a couple questions? Mind if I sit?” You readily offer the seat next to you, and she takes it, setting one of the drinks in front of you, cupping hers gently and holding it close, “Sorry for the girl at the register. She’s new and we don’t get many visitors…quite like you.” She picks her words carefully to make friendly conversation without offending you. A practice you used to know all too well.

“It’s not a problem, I should have known better really.” You feel the need to apologize, your own insecurity about not belonging here, eating away at you the longer you sit, “i’m visiting on business and caf shops always remind me of home so I decided to stop in.”

“Well, welcome home!” She jokes with a warm laugh, “That’s what caf is all about isn’t it? We made you the current house special, all of our syrups are made in house so it probably won’t taste like anything you’ve had back home, but I hope you enjoy it.” She takes a sip from her own cup, before addressing the obvious, “So, you mentioned you were here on business. What can I help you with?”

“I’m looking for work.” You state plainly. Not on purpose really, you’re just so caught off guard, out of your element. She was right, that IS what caf is all about, It really did feel like home. Every word out of her mouth you can practically taste out of your own. It’s like looking into a mirror–but more like a mirror to some alternate reality where you stayed in your small town instead of running away with a Mandalorian bounty hunter…if that makes any sense at all.

“What kind of work? With armor like that I think it’s safe to assume you aren’t going to be putting on an apron anytime soon.” Her lighthearted joke earns her a chuckle from you. If only she knew.

“No, no. I’m looking to see if you’ve heard of anything strange or unusual going on in town. Any upticks in crime? Unusual characters?”

She takes a moment to think with a hum as she takes another sip from her cup, unfazed by what most would probably assume to be an odd question, “No strange characters other than you…but actually now that you mention it. I did hear some gossip from some customers that some kids went missing playing near the forest’s edge some days ago.”

Bingo.

“Missing kids?”

“Yeah, sorry I don’t know the details, like I said it’s customer gossip–but I guess some kids were hanging out by the forest edge and none of them came home. The locals are chalking it up to some–I don't know–creature I guess,” She waves the thought away, dismissing it, “I don’t buy it, but I do hope they can get found and brought home safe and sound.”

A creature? Now this was interesting. You aren’t really sure if it’s the kind of lead you’re looking for, but it’s a lead so you’ll take it.

“Is that the kind of work you’re looking for?” She interrupts your thoughts.

“Honestly,” You start with a chuckle, “I’m not sure, but I’m happy to investigate.” You give her a kind smile she can’t see. Honestly you surprise yourself with how comfortable you’ve gotten in her presence. You don’t even know her name. You’ve only sat down with her less than 5 minutes and yet you feel the same comfort from her that you would feel with a life long friend.

“Well that’s great to hear, hopefully we can get those kids home safe and sound. If anyone is capable, it would be a Mandalorian for sure.” She flashes you the most charming smile and you feel your heart skip a beat in the worst way possible.

“Oh. Well, I’ll definitely do my best, but I’m no Mandalorian.” you confess.

“Oh!” She looks embarrassed, “I’m sorry, I just thought–with the armor–”

“No, you’re right it is! It’s just—” You struggle to try and find a way to remedy the situation, you don’t want her to be embarrassed at all, there's no way she could have known.

But how could you ever explain everything to her? Why would you? The illusion of comfort quickly fades away and all warm feelings of home quickly sour on your tongue.

“It’s complicated…” You finally breathe out in defeat, but that seems to settle her worry.

“Well, I wish you luck finding those kids, Mandalorian or otherwise.” She gives you one last parting smile before she stands from her seat, drink in hand, “I need to get back to work, but I’m glad I was able to help.”

And just like that she's gone.

You glance at the coffee cup she left in front of you.

The bar counter seems too big, too clean, next to it. The void of the counter dwarfing it. Isolating it from reality.

It hasn’t been long enough for it to lose its warmth, but for some reason you still expect it to be cold when you finally pick it up and leave the caf shop.

You don’t even like caf.

You decide to fill your comrade in on your lead as you start your trek back through the city, but it startles you when his voice crackles through before you even reach the toggle.

“I’ve got a lead.” His gruff voice cuts through the static, monotone and straight to the point.

“Funny enough me too. Mine’s a bit odd though not sure if it’s for us. What’s yours?”

“Mine too. Kids went missing in the forest, some kind of creature.”

You pause for a minute. Guess this was your kind of job then.

“Interesting. I got the same thing.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Creature and everything…Hope you like camping, tin man.” You chuckle.

“I’ll meet you at the ship.” And the comm line cuts.

What a buzz kill.

---------------------------------

When You finally make it back to the ship the Mandalorian is already rummaging inside the weapons locker preparing to gear up for the trip. The child sitting on the floor not too far off, sticking his head into an empty pouch, little fingers covered in crumbs from a previous snack. It’s gross, but in a charming kind of way.

“What kind of creature do you think it is?” You ask, watching the child wiggle around in the pouch.

“Don’t know.” He replies plainly. Boring.

“Maybe a Nexu?” You shrug.

“Don’t think those are native here.”

“Well, Rancor aren’t native to Naboo and we saw how that turned out.” Your smirk is obvious despite your helmet.

The Mandalorian halts his movements and slowly turns to look at you in what you can only guess to be displeasure.

“What?” You feign innocence with a knowing tilt of your helmet. He only shakes his head in exasperation from your antics and goes back to the weapons locker, sorting through ammunition.

“What’s that?” He asks, without turning back to you.

“What’s what?”

“In your hand.”

“Oh!” You hold up your disposable cup of caf to yourself completely forgetting you still had it, “It’s caf. You can have it if you want, though it’s probably cold now…”

You aren’t exactly sure why that statement sends a slight pang of guilt through your belly, but it does. You lower the cup and wrap both hands around it as if a phantom of the warmth could seep into your grasp despite the heat long gone from its contents.

The Mandalorian notices your shift in tone and pauses what he’s doing again, but when he turns to face you this time it’s gentler, nearly laced with concern if you didn't know any better. He leans his back against the side of the locker and tilts his helmet, as if investigating you for a moment.

“Don’t want it?”

“No. I hate caf.” The words come out too sharp, too bitter, “They wouldn’t let me leave without it though.” You add on lightheartedly, trying to correct your tone. The Mandalorian clearly doesn’t buy it, he watches you silently as you set the cold cup down on a crate and saunter over to your own supplies to rummage through your own things and pack for the trip.

You try to ignore the feeling of his lingering stare, it’s clear he wants to press the issue further, investigate your sudden change in tune, but he won’t. You know he won’t, and he knows you know that. So instead he lets it awkwardly hang in the air, hoping you’ll open up on your own accord, but that's definitely not happening.

“How many nights do you think we’ll be out for?” But he doesn’t reply, and you can still feel the irritating presence of his visor burning into the back of yours. You let out an irritated huff and turn to glare at him over your shoulder.

“What’s your deal?”

He still doesn’t answer, just stares at you, and you can feel the irritation starting to bubble up in your gut.

“What?!” You snap at him when he still doesn't answer, “I already told you that you can have it. Get a damn straw if you’re worried about your helmet.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just sighs and decides to leave it, turning back to his own packing when you angrily turn back to finish yours.

“And choke on it.” you mutter to yourself quiet enough he can’t hear you.

You only finish packing the bare essentials when you hear footsteps approaching the ship from the open ramp. By the time you get up to investigate, the Mandlorian has already made his way to the ramp entrance. You join him by his side and peer down as two local officers approach.

You and the Mandalorian quickly exchange glaces before looking back at the two officers. Not good. There were a million reasons for the both of you to be arrested just for standing on this ship alone, no way this could be good. You do your best to play it cool.

And by play it cool, you mean stand there and not say a word.

“High suns to you!” one of the officers greets you with a short wave, “Lookin’ for two Mandalorians.”

The both of you simply stand there.

“Guess we found ‘em.” The first officer mutters to the second with an exchange of a small glance before the second speaks up.

“The Major requested we escort you to his office.”

“What for?” The Mandalorian besides you shortly replies.

“He’s got a job proposal for you.”

“What kind of job?” It’s your turn now to give a curt response.

“Best you both come on down to hear it for yourself.” You and the Mandalorian turn to exchange a look once more. A sort of unspoken conversation. To run, or to cooperate?

-------------------------------

“I’d like to start by humbly thanking you both for agreeing to meet with me”

The Mandalorian and you stand out like a sore thumb in the mayor's office. It was a combination of the lack of professional, near corporate style dress, and the clear lack of wealth you two possessed in comparison to the far-too-large and extravagant office. The two of you were dwarfed in size standing in front of a desk large enough to threaten the empire, the tiniest of chess pieces positioned in the middle of a rug that looks as new as it did straight from manufacturing, and near insignificant compared to the view provided by floor to ceiling transparisteel, perfectly crafted without a single seem.

Though, looking over to your comrade and the way the view nearly reflects in his freshly polished beskar…maybe you stuck out moreso than him.

“What’s the job?” He dryly asks back, not bothering to return the pleasantries the mayor has offered, and the mayor visibly swallows in return.

“There’s been an incident.” He pauses and looks between the two of you, but when the both of you only offer silent helmeted stares in return he clears his throat and continues, “Children. Children have gone missing, along the forest’s edge.”

“We’re aware.” You respond far too fast. Your own slightly more polite way of telling him to get on with it. You don’t have all day. The more time he spends yapping about stuff you already know the longer he’s keeping you out of the field, and if there's one thing you’ve learned in your short time bounty hunting, it’s that time is everything.

“One of them was my niece.” He spits out, nearly shaking as he tries to contain all his bottled emotions. When you and the Mandalorian offer him nothing but the same unmoving blank stare he quickly shifts his gaze away from the both of you, breathing to compose himself before he continues, “This…creature has been plaguing my city for months. I’ve sent out hunter after hunter, but they always come back empty handed.”

“What kind of creature is it, exactly?” The mayor pauses and looks back at the Mandalorian with a glint of fear in his eyes, “I’ve only seen it once. It was dark. I’ve never seen anything like it before. It was large, had sharp teeth, glowing red eyes…” He squeezes his eyes shut and shudders at the memory, “It was the most horrible thing. Something of a nightmare.”

“Sharp teeth and glowing red eyes huh?” You can’t help the way the sarcasm oozes from your lips. This guy can’t be serious.

“Please! I know how it sounds, no one believes me!” he shoots up from his seat in desperation, “It’s true! I swear to you, I saw it with my own eyes! Everyone think I’m crazy, but now it’s got my niece and–”

“Alright alright…” You cut him off, you almost feel bad for the guy, even if this sounds like he had a night with one too many shots of spotchka “How much are you offering? We don’t work for free.”

“I’ll give you twenty thousand credits if you bring me back my niece unharmed.” He pauses and looks between you both as if considering you, “I’ll double it if you can bring the beast to me.”

“Double?!” you nearly choke. “Prove I’m not as crazy as everyone thinks, and yes. I’ll double it. Forty thousand credits.” The Mayor settles back down into his seat with the offer, folding his hands together in front of him, narrowing his gaze to show the both of you just how serious he was.

You and the mandalorian turn to each other at the same time, and without missing a beat you simultaneously reply,

“It’s a deal.”

---------------------------------

The mayor hadn’t given you guys much to go off of, he gave you some loose directions to where the kids were last seen, and whatever clues previous hunters had gathered before giving up, which truthfully, wasn’t a lot.

For now you and the Mandalorian walk through the forest, the kid fast asleep in his pram floating behind you, as you look for anything you can use as a lead. Footprints, any items from the kids, signs of a struggle, at this point even a broken branch would tell you more than whatever information you got.

“Sharp teeth and glowing red eyes,” You silently chuckle to yourself.

“What’s so funny?” The Mandalorian questions without looking at you, instead intently scanning the treeline.

“Oh come on, be real for a second, you don’t actually believe there's some kind of big scary creature out here, do you?”

“I don’t really think it matters.” He deadpans, and you frown.

“You’re a real buzzkill, you know that?”

He doesn’t reply. Just continues scanning his surroundings and back to the ground for tracks.

“Oh, I see what's going on,” you frown turns into a devilish grin behind your helmet and you trot ahead a few steps to meet the Mandalorian at his side, leaning over into his line of sight, “You’re scared aren’t you?”

He purposely ignores your presence, looking right past you past you, “Scared of what?”

“Oh you’re terrified!” You stand fully in front of him, completely blocking him off so there's no escape from your annoyances, “Terrified, a big scary beast, with glowing red eyes is going to abduct us in the night!”

He pauses and turns to you fully, giving you that annoyed blank-visor stare you were hoping for, then he sighs.

“Would you focus on the mission?”

You chuckle as you turn away and stretch your arms over your head, “I could do this mission with my eyes closed. There’s no creature. The kids are probably out here camping in the woods somewhere as a prank to make the mayor seem crazier than he already does.”

“Then why haven’t you found them yet?”

You quickly drop your arms and turn back to him defensively, “Because I’m stuck with your shiny ass. If it wasn’t for you I would have those kids found and turned in by nightfall.”

He scoffs.

“What?” You snap back at him.

“I think it’s the opposite. If I wasn’t stuck babysitting you and the kid I’d have those kids found in less than that, instead you’re too busy goofing off and making our job harder than it needs to be.”

“Fine. Let’s split up.”

He tilts his helmet at you intrigued.

“We’ll split the job 70/30. Whoever finds the kids the fastest gets the highest cut.”

He goes to speak but you cut him off.

“And! I’ll take the kid. That way when I win, you’ll have no excuse.”

“Deal.”

He doesn’t miss a beat. This means business. You had no choice but to win.

You quickly grab the kids pram and rush off.

“Good luck, Shiny!” You give him a quick wave before fully running off.

You were surprisingly very confident. This seemed like such an easy job to you. Find the kids, get them to confess there's no creature, and boom! The credits were yours. Not to mention that up until this point, any job leading up to this one, the Mandalorian was seriously getting in your way. You’ll admit you had gotten in his way too, but for the most part you’re confident that without him, you can get this done in no time.

Though now that you think about it, you really have no idea what his skill level is as a hunter. On Corellia his bounty wandered into the ship by chance, you completely fumbled the mission on Coruscant. You remember him being a relatively skilled fighter back on Utrost, but it was your plan and you ended up saving his ass from getting butchered in the end anyway.

Then again…he did save you on Canto Bight when the job turned sour, and he managed to track down and save you from Eldon–

No. You shake your head. Doesn’t matter. No matter how skilled he was as a hunter you’re confident enough you can still beat him. You figure the kids will probably stick to some form of water, a river, or a lake, or some kind of landmark they could easily find their way back home with, but unknown enough to outsiders that they could evade foreign hunters. So you start there.

It’s not too long before you stumble across a small creek. Just big enough that it won’t dry it up for a while, but small enough to seem inconspicuous. You start following it deeper into the forest when the kid starts fussing. Great. Maybe if you ignore him for a couple minutes he’ll go back to sleep. You love the kid, you can’t lie, you’ve grown pretty fond of him over your time traveling with him, but right now you were busy and couldn’t afford a distraction.

You barely make it two steps when his meek whimpers turn into full blown wails.

“Okay okay! Hey it’s okay! Shh!” You quickly rush over to him and scoop him out of the pram rocking him, and bouncing, anything to keep him quiet, you don’t want to alarm the kids if they’re close and lose your lead.

But he cries harder, and wiggles, clearly not appreciative of your smothering embrace.

“Oh kid, please be quiet.” You beg, “We can play in a bit I’ve got work to do.”

You strain to contain him in your arms as he fights you more, writhing desperately against your embrace, until before you know it, he’s slipped out entirely and plops right onto the floor besides your feet. He sits there for a moment, wide-eyed, and you’re worried he hurt himself and you’ve only got a few short moments before he begins to let out a screeching wail.

You quickly bend down to comfort him, but before you move an inch, the little menace quickly regains his senses and jumps up taking off in a full blown sprint. You quickly rush after him. How is it even possible something with such tiny legs can move so fast?

Why did you agree to take him again? to prove something? what a mistake you should have let the Mandalorian take him. this kid was going to cost you the job and worst of all? your pride. The Mandalorian cannot win, and worse you cannot lose his kid.

It’s not too long before the kid trips over his own robes and does a little tumble right into the creek. You’re quick to scoop him up, but not quite quick enough. Almost immediately he starts crying. A full blown sob. Classic tantrum.

You sigh, accepting defeat. Poor guy probably just misses his dad and ended up soaked and bruised trying to find him. You give him a reassuring couple pats as he wheezes in a deep breath between choked sobs. You take a seat down on the forest floor besides the creek, subconsciously hoping the sound of running water will help calm him.

You rock him softly and continue to gently pat his back as he helplessly cries in your arms. Well, if any kids were hiding out around here, they’re definitely long gone. You sigh again. You can picture it now, the Mandalorian silently bragging the entire way to Carajam. Only in a way he could, not muttering a word, and completely expressionless with his helmet, but the way he would carry himself alone could tell you, a quick glance that says, “See? I told you so.”

A tilt that would say, “I’m better than you.”

You groan at the thought. The thought of him with your credits in his hands all because you agreed to watch his stupid kid.

You strain to reach up and toggle the infrared on your visor. Best to keep an eye out in case anyone else is out here. You’ve learned that there's no such thing as safe in this galaxy, and in return, no harm in being too careful. At least with the infrared it will be easy to spot someone, hopefully, before they spot you. It flickers far more than usual, occasionally flicking out completely before flicking back on. Your display hasn’t really been the same since the beating it took when Eldon crash landed in Felucia. You lazily scan the environment, ignoring it the best you can, as you continue to comfort the child. It’s when you glance over to where he fell that you have to double take.

Something on the ground catches your attention, you quickly get up, holding the child tight in your arms and move to investigate something you missed, now illuminated with the infrared.

Tracks.

But not from kids. In fact, you’re not quite sure what they're from. Your visor doesn’t auto ID them, and you don’t think you’ve seen anything quite like it. You look ahead a couple feet and there's more. Crystal clear tracks. They were shallow, but they were there, they didn’t seem that old either. How did you miss these earlier? You decide it doesn't matter, and decide to follow them anyway. The farther you follow them, the clearer they get. Straying away from the creek and deep into the woods.

As the space between the trees gets thinner, you notice some scratches high up on the trunks of them, embedded deep into the wood. Higher up than you were in height, and now you’re confused. You can’t figure out what could have possibly done this, no animal you can think of is that tall, or has prints like that.

Before you can figure it out, the sound of your name crackling through the comm makes you jump.

“Come in! Do you copy?” The Mandalorian’s voice echos through and there's a sense of urgency in his voice that you don’t think you’ve heard from him before.

“I copy. What’s up? Did you find something?” You try to reply over the sobbing child in your arms.

“The kid–Is the Kid okay?” You don’t think you’ve ever heard him so panicked before.

“What? Yeah–yeah! He's fine–he just tripped. Is everything okay? What’s going on?” “What are your coordinates? We need to meet back up immediately!” ***

Previous - MASTER - Next Taglist: @mysun-n-stars , @tanzthompson , @janebby , @um-well

#the mandalorian #din x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x you #mando x reader #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction

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brokenbeskar · 1 year

Text

uh...Woops!

Hey friends! Just wanted to apologize for the accidental hiatus. I didn't even realize it had been a year since I've posted until the new Mando S3 release date was announced. Truth be told, I kind of lost sight of why I began writing in the first place, and was more worried about getting chapters out in a timely manor than the original vision for the story. Memories Reforged is a really important story to me and truthfully, after rushing through ch 10, which was supposed to be one of the MOST important chapters for setting up the rest of the story, I completely lost interest and was feeling rather discouraged about my abilities as a story teller. I read it back a few weeks after posting and was really upset because i feel like it completely missed the mark and wasn't at all what i envisioned originally.

I went back and forth several times about rewriting it or abandoning the story altogether, but ultimately decided that it didn't matter. I'm writing this story for ME based on how I envision it to be, regardless of how cringey, cheesey, or self indulgent that is.

SOO with that said, I am very happy to announce that I have been very busy writing the start of arc 2 when I have time( sneak peak under the cut), but i'm making a point not to rush myself and take the time I need when I need it.

I appreciate all of you who have stuck around, believe in my vision, and are willing to be patient for future chapters!

“Don’t want it?”

“How many nights do you think we’ll be out for?” You try to change the unspoken subject, but he doesn’t reply, and you can still feel the irritating presence of his visor burning into the back of yours. You let out an irritated huff and turn to glare at him over your shoulder.

“What’s your deal?”

He still doesn’t answer, just stares at you, and you can feel the irritation starting to bubble up in your gut.

“What?!” You snap at him when he still doesn't answer, “I already told you that you can have it. Get a damn straw if you’re worried about your helmet.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just sighs and decides to leave it, turning back to his own packing when you angrily turn back to finish yours.

“And choke on it.” you mutter to yourself quiet enough he can’t hear you.

#ily all <3 #havoc speaks #MR update #spoiler!

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brokenbeskar · 2 years

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chapter 10 in a nutshell

#Havoc draws #MR art #maybe #spoiler #?

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brokenbeskar · 2 years

Text

Orbit

Chapter 10 of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 10.8k

Summary: reprieve--despair, hope--desperation, just as one sets another will rise with the new day, just like a planet around it’s star.

A/N at the end of the chapter this time!

You and the Mandalorian walk through the Felucian jungle in near absolute silence. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence by any means, it’s just–so much has happened and in such a short amount of time…what words could possibly follow? You were exhausted, beaten to the core. Both your body and your spirit were frayed. You were moving off sheer determination at this point. It was that special kind of exhaustion that settled deep within your bones, the kind of exhaustion that makes it difficult to tell what's real and what's not, but with the ache you feel with every movement, you know it’s real. Stars, you couldn’t wait to get back to the ship.

You wonder if the Mandalorian feels the same. What kind of mental toll had this all taken on him? You don’t even really know what happened after your argument, but even still, knowing he chased Eldon all the way to Felucia to rescue you, he must be exhausted too.

You feel guilty. He didn’t seem upset with you at all, but this was all your fault. You were the one who insisted on helping Eldon. You were the one who lashed out. You were the one refusing to communicate–again…

“I’m sorry.” You mutter, seemingly out of the blue.

“For what?”

“For all of this. I should have listened to you about Eldon. You tried to warn me, but I was too stubborn and I put not only myself, but you and the kid in danger because of it.”

He stops walking and turns to you, tilting his helmet in confusion, “What are you talking about?” And now you’re confused.

“I–during the fight we had? While I was packing…you tried to tell me not to trust Eldon, but I–”

“And after, when you came up to the cockpit, I was the one who told you we should go.”

“What?”

“Do you not remember?”

“I–...no, no I don’t.”

He sighs and shakes his head, taking a couple steps towards you, “This wasn’t all your fault. We knew the risk and took it.” He reaches out and puts a hand on your pauldron, “And–...I’m sorry. I knew being on Naboo was hard for you. I shouldn’t have held it against you.”

You stand there, completely stunned. He was apologizing to you? You were supposed to be apologizing to him. Now you’re desperately wishing you could remember what happened after he stormed off to the cockpit. How did it end up so he was the one suggesting you help Eldon? What series of twisted events had led to him agreeing to a job he knew was suspicious?

“Why?” You finally ask, still taken aback from his apology.

“Why what?” He tilts his helmet in inquiry, but before you get the chance to elaborate you hear the rushing of an engine quickly approaching above you.

You and the Mandalorian quickly look up past the lush tops of the jungle leaves and see one familiar low flying ship pass above you, followed by two others. They were flying too slow to be someone on a daily cruise, no these ships were looking for something…or someone.

“Yanu.” The Mandalorian steals the word right out of your mouth.

In an instant, it’s a mad dash to the ship. The Mandalorian grabs your arm to help you through the jungle as the both of you sprint your way back to the ship. Over sprawling vines and roots, past giant leaves, no time to properly move them out of the way, instead, frantically pushing past the lush fauna as the unspoken reality of your situation rushes through the both of you. You had to make it back to the ship before Yanu found you. You had to. Gone was your moment of silence and reprieve as you stroll your way casually to the ship. Now it was pure survival.

It was no secret you were in no state to fight. It was obvious just by looking at you. Your limp only worsening as you sprint, searing pain building with each step. All you needed to do was get to the ship, you keep repeating to yourself, if you could get to the ship you would be fine. You just needed to get to the ship. The Mandalorian’s grip on your arm is like a vice. If you fell, you have no doubt that he would probably drag you the rest of the way. And honestly? You’re thankful for it.

Breaking through the last of the foliage and finally capturing a glimpse of the ship on the opposite end of the clearing felt like relief. It felt like you could finally breathe again, but it was short lived. As the Mandalorian continues to sprint through the clearing, he skids to a halt when one of the ships from earlier circles back around and descends right in front of your path. Merely yards away, your salvation sits just out of reach. A pit forms in the bottom of your stomach when, just as the Mandalorian spins you around to make a retreat back into the jungle, the other two ships land, blocking your path.

You feel the Mandalorian’s shoulders shift as he lets out a breath. There the two of you were. In the open, surrounded, with him holding you up, barely able to stand on your own. You don’t even have a fucking weapon for crying out loud. Even with the Mandalorian by your side, you’re not sure how the two of you are going to get out of this situation.

The both of you turn back around to the first ship when you hear it’s ramp lower, just in time to see Yanu descend from the opening.

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t my two favorite bucket heads.” She waves her blaster idly in the air beside her as she saunters her way down the ramp. She’s oozing confidence. She knows she has you right where she wants you, she can already taste success on her plush lips, and she’s loving every second of it, “Should have known Eldon was too much of an idiot to finish the job.”

You and the Mandalorian remain silent as she takes a couple steps into the open clearing, “I guess that's why they say if you want a job done right, you better do it yourself.” She takes a moment, tilting her head as she looks you up and down, inspecting your current state, “I guess I shouldn’t be ungrateful though, he did me some favors. Not completely useless I guess.”

“You can still walk away with your life.” The Mandalorian holding you up finally speaks up. A last ditch attempt at bargaining, “The bounty on your head will allow us to turn you in alive. Things could be a whole lot easier if you come along willingly.”

She cocks an eyebrow in disbelief, before she bursts into a loud, hearty laughter.

“Oh sweetheart…,” She chastises, “I’ll be walking out of here just fine.” She raises a hand above her head, and immediately the ramps to the ships behind you open up and an array of mercenaries emerge from their confines, slowly moving to surround you. Taking a quick look around you count at least 20 of them. Fuck. You were so fucked.

As if sensing your unease, the Mandalorian gives your arm a light squeeze, and you immediately relax as much as you can considering the situation. You take a deep breath and slowly rise to your full height despite the pain and exhaustion it causes you. As much as the odds were stacked against you, you wouldn’t give up, you refuse to lie on the ground like an old dog and accept your fate. You will fight, fight until your body gives way beneath you, fight until you let out your last breath. The Mandalorian watches as the determination floods back into you, and slowly eases his grasp off your arm, allowing you the chance to stand on your own accord.

Yanu watches you with a curious eye, “You Mandalorians really don’t go down easy, do you?” She shrugs, “Don’t you know how much easier it would be to just cut your losses and give up?”

“Could say the same to you. And I’m not a Mandalorian.” You snap back and she smirks.

“Running your mouth in your current situation?” She motions to the mercenaries slowly stalking their way around you, “You must have a death wish.”

She paces a few steps staring you down like cornered prey, when you feel the Mandalorian bump your arm and lean in close next to you, subtly trying to get your attention.

“Listen closely, no matter what happens I need you to stay close. But when I say drop, I need you to drop.” He mutters as quietly as he can through his helmet’s vocoder.

You give him a short nod, your gaze never leaving Yanu. You don’t really understand what he has planned, but it sounds like he has one, and that's more than you can offer right now. He stays impeccably close to you, turned slightly into your side to the point that if he took any deeper of a breath his chest plate would tap against your pauldron.

Tension only grows the longer Yanu stares the two of you down, while her mercenaries slowly stalk around you like sharks to bloody water. It builds and builds until the air filtering through your helmet is thick with it. It builds as they continue to inch their way closer and closer, waiting for Yanu's signal, you can only assume.

It continues to build under her impeccable stare--until it suddenly snaps. With one swift movement, Yanu shatters the tension to the ground with a single blaster shot to the air, and before you can fully register the sound, the mercenaries are rushing you like a race to the finish line. Without even realizing, you go to move in defense of the quickly oncoming attack, but the Mandalorian grabs your arm to halt you. A silent "not yet." but you tense up. they were closing on you fast, you know he has a plan but you can't help but feel anxious with how fast they're approaching on you, seconds away from burying you were you stand, and yet there he holds you as they get closer...closer...closer--you almost want to close your eyes, squeeze them shut as an automatic reflex to the impending impact–

"NOW!"

You drop faster than a starfighter coming out of hyperspace, pressing yourself flat against the ground, and tucking in any vulnerable appendages, just as an eruption of screeching projectiles whizz above you--colliding with their targets with a rumbling boom. The Mandalorian quickly pulls you back to your feet and you only get a moment to assess the damage. A litter of unfortunate bodies scattered amongst the frontlines, a decent chunk taken from the multitude of enemies surrounding you. You don't know what exactly he did, but you don't really have time to ask before those that are left begin to open fire.

It's hard to comprehend much once you're in the heat of battle. The rush of it all floods all of your senses, that primal drive to fight back, to survive, it's all you can feel past the repeated pinging of blaster shots ricocheting off of your armor. Each ping sends more adrenaline pumping through you, and like magic you move without thinking. Every bit of training you've ever done, every previous battle you've lived through, every scuffle turned hard lesson, it becomes muscle memory in moments like these. As much as people try to logically plan and strategize how to perform in battle, none of it matters until you're in the moment. It's the galaxy's strongest drug. One wrong step, one wrong move, one mistake, one lucky shot, and that's it.

You don't really think about it when you drop to snatch a blaster off a fallen enemy, don't really make any calculations when you fire your first few rounds, just aim, shoot, aim, shoot. It's a flurry of blaster fire. Shots whizzing past you, shots rebounding off your beskar, your own shots, they all combine to create a mess of light and sparks that become nearly unreadable from your position. Without even realizing it, you and the Mandalorian fall back to back, circling to cover each other just as you did on Utrost against Rrollesh's goons. aim, shoot, aim, shoot, aim–

An agonized shout from the Mandalorian behind you breaks your focus, just as he drops to his knees behind you, you take a particularly forceful shot right to the visor, knocking you back and stumbling a few steps. You don't even need to look at him to know he's been hit. A lucky shot. A blaster bolt that managed to sneak its way somewhere between beskar plates. An unfortunate but harsh reality: beskar helped, but it did not make you invincible.

You try to make it the couple steps back to him, the few inches you need to help him back up, but with one of you incapacitated the onslaught of attacks quickly becomes overwhelming for you alone. He does his best to fire a few rounds from his spot on the floor, one hand clutching the fresh oozing wound on his leg, but his rate of fire is cut in half with the disadvantage. There were still nearly a dozen enemies, all simultaneously firing at the two of you, you feel like you're drowning in the rain of fire, but you press on.

"Mandalorian!" You shout over the roar of battle, offering a hand out to him when you finally manage to get close enough.

He goes to take it, but the second his grip lands on your own, one of the mercenaries pounces on you, ripping you away from him, and dragging you backwards, trying to pry your helmet off and get you in a choke hold at the same time. You let out a roar of frustration as you reach back to try and pry his hands off of you, stumbling backwards into the force of his pull. The two of you wrestle back and forth, his strength against yours until you lose footing and tumblr backwards into the ground, falling on top of him.

The force of your weight knocks the wind out of him, and his grip loosens with the impact, just enough you're able to wrestle out of his grasp and roll on top of him. Even with you gaining the upper hand, he grabs at your collar, the edges of your chest plate, your helmet, whatever he can hook his fingers into to try and rip you off of him. You desperately try to pry his hands off of you, all the while blaster shots are still pinging off your back. You finally manage to get a clearing, a moment, a single fleeting second where you have an opening, one chance, one shot. You take it.

Your assailant falls limp beneath your still smoking barrel. You struggle to wobble back to standing on weak legs. You waste no time rushing to help the Mandalorian back to his own feet, fighting the recoil from every shot your armor deflects. The two of you were practically holding each other up at this point, sloppily firing back despite your injuries and exhaustion. Yanu was right, you wouldn't go down easy.

Even still, there's a moment, a fleeting second, when you're helping him back up off the ground, a fraction of clarity in the chaos where your visors lock. It's only a fraction of a second, blink and you would miss it, the briefest of moments where time stops for the both of you. A lingering, silent, exchange, a brief acknowledgment, that in just one glance, neither of you were sure if you were going to make it out of this alive.

"Take your Rising Phoenix and get to the ship, you need to get back to the kid!" You shout through the flurry of blaster fire.

"They'll shoot us down!" He shouts back without breaking his focus from the enemy.

"No, not us, just you! I can cover you!" You attempt to explain best you can while firing round after round at the slurry of forces.

"I'm not leaving you!" He tries to argue.

"I can hold them back long enough for you to come back with the ship. The kid is more important!" But, you were lying. It was clear to the both of you, that despite your words, there was no way you would be able to hold out that long. If he left you for the ship, you would die, but if he stayed, the both of you would die.

He hesitates, clearly torn. You were right, you know it, and you know he knows it too. It was a harsh reality, if the two of you die here, who knows what fate would fall upon that child. His foundling, sworn under his care by creed, to protect as his own until reunited with his own kind. There was no nobility in his death if it meant leaving the child alone.

But you? Dying to give him cover, succumbing to the enemy so that he may protect his child? Give your own life to assist your comrade in fulfilling his own quest? To give your own life to protect that of an innocent? That was noble. That was a Mandalorian's death. It’s what Ko’van would have done.

And for the first time, you think you understand now. You understand Ko'van's decision to save you, you understand what it meant to die honorably, you understand the weight of that decision, and for the first time, you think you understand his creed.

"This is The Way, isn’t it?" you echo the words of his own creed to him over your shoulder. Words he once stated to you with such conviction when you first met, words you never quite fully understood the meaning of, but you think you understand better today.

He takes only a moment to pause, the small amount of time he's allowed to glance at you, before he gives you a firm nod and quickly shouts to you, “I’m coming back for you!” The boosters of his Rising Phoenix roar to life, as he quickly rockets into the sky, leaving behind only the heat from his boosters behind.

You waste no time, immediately switching your focus from anyone you laid eyes on, to anyone who dared fire a shot at the Mandalorian. A whole new type of determination washing over you. Not one of self preservation, not one of cowardice, but one of something so much more. You quickly fire round after round, shooting down anyone who takes aim at the Mandalorian soaring above you. A few rounds make it past your defense, and ping off his armor, but he retaliates with a few shots of his own as he rides above the clearing.

But something catches your attention. You whip around just in time to see Yanu finish climbing to the top of her ship, and stand to her full height, aiming a large blaster rifle right at him.

“Mandalorian!” You yell as loud as you can to warn him, but you’re too late. Just as he looks in your direction, Yanu fires her shot, landing square in his chest. He gets thrown back, with a pained grunt, losing control of his Rising Phoenix and begins rapidly plummeting back down to the clearing.

You immediately attempt to rush to his aid, but with all attention back on you, you’re quickly becoming overwhelmed with blaster fire. Repeating shots continue to push you back to the point where you can only watch in horror as he violently collides with the ground.

You see Yanu jump down from her perch, rifle in hand, before you’re suddenly rushed by an opponent wielding a large vibroblade. You barely manage to dodge out of the way, and instinctively go to grab your own out of it’s holster-–gone. That’s right, Eldon took all your weapons, and you were in such a rush to get out of there after your near-death experience you didn’t bother to look for them. He swings at you again, you grab at his forearm to hold his knife back, his long blade just inches away from your throat. You go to raise your blaster with your other arm while you have him distracted, but he uses his free hand to catch yours, and the two of you struggle to hold the other off.

With how exhausted your body is already, holding him back is a challenge, he pushes further into your grip, slowly inching his blade close and closer, while your arm shakes to try and push him back. You struggle to push your blaster higher up, just a little more and you would have him. Just as his blade sinks close to your throat, your blaster is mere centimeters away from his gut. A loud roar from the jungle’s edge pulls his attention, distracting him just long enough for you to shove your blaster tight against him and fire, his body collapsing to the floor at your feet.

You stand, hunched over and huffing above his body, both arms lay limp on either side of you as you try to catch your breath. A harsh echoing crack from the jungle and another rumbling roar cause you to snap upright and spin in the direction of the sound. Nearly all blaster fire subsides as the ground begins to rumble beneath your feet. Everyone’s attention is drawn to the edge of the jungle. You can see the jungle tops sway and crash as it gets closer and the rumbling within the ground grows more intense.

You watch in horror as the massive rancor breaks from the jungle, an ear splitting roar rattling you to the bone. It was angry, and it was injured. Bleeding and burned–but that's when you realize. This was Dras. Nearly double the size of any other rancor you had ever seen, Eldon’s prized pet towered over Yanu’s mercenaries like ants. He immediately stomps into the clearing, grabbing at the closest of Yanu’s men and ripping them to shreds. They’re quick to satter, fleeing to the other side of the clearing and back to their ships to avoid the carnage of the scorned beast.

You quickly look back to where the Mandalorian had fallen earlier, through bodies you catch the glimmer of his armor on the ground where he still lies prone, and Yanu only a few steps away, watching in distress as the beast tears through her defenses. You quickly use the distraction to your advantage, rushing to the Mandalorian’s aid.

“Mandalorian!” You shout for him, hoping to see any sign of movement as you hurry over to him. Yanu looks over at you, seeming to have almost forgotten her mission, before she quickly turns to retreat back to her ship.

You slide onto your knees beside your armored partner, “Mandalorian! Can you hear me?” You shout again as you roll him onto his back, but he doesn’t respond. He remains limp where he lies and you begin to panic. Large carbon scoring coats the front of his chest plate where he was hit from Yanu’s blast. It’s impossible to tell how badly the internal damage was without a scanner, but you have a feeling it’s bad.

Screams echo through the clearing as Dras continues his rampage. The horrible cracking of bones beneath his feet, and garbled yells of those who fall to the fate of his claws, ring through the air loud enough to rattle even the strongest of warriors, but you don’t hear it. Instead your ears fill with the deafening roar of your own heartbeat, and you attempt to feel for the Mandalorian’s pulse. Between your gloves, and his own thick layers of clothing it was impossible, but you had to try anyway.

“You need to get up! You hear me, tin can?” You grab ahold of both his shoulders and give him a rough shake, “That rancor is going to kill us all, you need to get up!” You let go and he continues to lay limply. Growing desperate, and irrational, you pull a hand back to give him a firm wack across the helmet–

but just before you make contact, his arm shoots up and grabs your wrist, halting you.

He lets out a broken groan, and his grip from your wrist loosens significantly. You let out the biggest sigh of relief, and wack his helmet lightly anyway, more playful this time.

“Glad you’re still with me, shiny.” You try to quell the panicked waiver in your voice, as he shifts on the ground, slowly coming to. You help him to a sitting position as he tries to regain his bearings.

“NO!” You hear Yanu shout brokenly from a few yards away. You look up to find her own ship taking off without her. While you were distracted, some of her mercenaries must have fled in her ship before she could get back to it. She watches only a moment as the ship leaves the ground, before she quickly turns back around to face you. Her eyes narrow to a scowl. A hatred in her eyes you know all too well.

You give the Mandalorian an ushering nudge, “We need to get out of here, quickly. Can you stand?” He only grunts in response and his head lolls to the side when you try to nudge him again. Guess that's a no. You look back at Yanu as she quickly begins stomping her way towards you, reloading her rifle as she advances.

At the same time, from behind you, Dras’s roar bellows out and rattles you to the core. When did he get so close? You hear the click of Yanu’s rifle, and when the Mandalorian shows no signs of improvement, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“I’m borrowing this for a second.” You tell him, as you pull his rifle off of his back, and quickly steal a shell from his bandolier, reloading the rifle as quickly as you can while Yanu continues her pursuit towards you.

“I am so sick of dealing with you Mandalorians.” She spits as she marches towards you, “I cannot wait to watch you both die.”

You hear the other two ships power up behind you, and one of them begins their take off sequence. Just as you lift the Mandalorian’s rifle and take aim, Yanu follows suit. Dras’s ground shattering stomps echo in your chest, but the second you go to squeeze the trigger, the straining sound of an engine and tearing metal break your focus. You only get to see a glance of it from the corner of your eye, Dras snatches one of the ships attempting to escape right out of the sky and hurls it at the other, sending them both hurling in your direction.

You hear Yanu’s shot, and then the deafening sound of both ships colliding with each other onto the ground of the clearing next to you. They burst into a massive explosion, sending you flying several yards away. You register nothing but dirt, ash, and fire as crash into the ground violently and roll for another few feet. The ground beneath you shredding your underclothes and tearing your newly exposed skin raw. Despite not being unconscious, the force from the blast knocks the wind from you, and you can’t move for a few moments.

You wheeze when you finally find the strength to roll over. Your arms give out beneath you the first time you try to lift yourself up, the second try isn’t much better, but you manage to lift enough to take in your surroundings. Your heart stops on the scene. You nearly forget where you are.

The once tranquil clearing that gave you so much hope, was now replaced with the hell from your nightmares. Two wrecked ships obliterated and littered the whole clearing, fire and metal shrapnel covered it like a junkyard. Bodies everywhere. Blood. The sharp smell of it and burning flesh invade your helmet’s filtration system, making you nearly gag. Dras, the beast himself, lay sprawled and burning, a victim of his own violence.

You struggle to your feet, and limp through the destruction. For the first time since you arrived the clearing was dead silent besides the crackling of fire, and hiss of sparks from exposed wiring. You pick up the pace when you notice movement from some familiar metal in front of you. The Mandalorian got thrown a few yards from you. You knew he had to be in bad shape considering his previous injuries, but he managed to pull himself up into a sit.

“Hey. You alright?” You ask as you approach, offering him a hand.

“As much as I can be.” He takes your hand, and you help him to his feet. The both of you were holding each other up, leaning on each other for support. Even with the combined effort of the both of you, you were barely managing. You glance down at your glove and notice it’s covered in blood. Who’s? Honestly, you weren’t sure.

“What happened?” His voice comes out pained and weak through his modulator as you make your way through the crash.

“Dras came back for revenge.” You try to laugh, but it’s cut short in your throat with the pain it causes.

“Dras?”

“Rancor.”

He makes a noise of acknowledgement as you walk. The crackling of fire, and crunch beneath your boots are suddenly interrupted by a choked gasp not too far from you. You and the Mandalorian exchange a glance before you pick up the pace to find the source of noise. The pained and desperate, yet weak gasps continue as you approach a larger chunk of ship. As you come around it to get to the other side, your eyes widen in horror at the sight. Yanu.

There she was, scarlet blood spilling from her mouth and down her limbs. Dripping down and coating her beautiful pink skin. She had been thrown into some shrapnel in the explosion, impaling her right through the middle. She was gasping despite not being able to get any air into her lungs. She lay limp despite her greatest efforts, blood pooling beneath her in a red river, perfectly reflecting the flames of the crash around her. There was no saving her, she was dead before you could even think about it. Two more gaps and she was gone.

It seemed so…unfitting for her. Everything she had put you through, everything she tried, from one side of the galaxy to the next, from chasing to being chased, she was just…dead now. A complete accident, a mere coincidence, and she was gone. The Mandalorian lets go of you, and limps his way over to her. To collect her body, most likely. You don’t help with the task, you don’t even offer. You’re not sure what is wrong with you, maybe you’ve taken one too many hits to the head or something, but you just watch.

You should be happy–relieved at the very least, that all of this was over. But, you don't. As the Mandalorian collects her you find yourself almost feeling…remorseful? Regretful? Sad? You don’t even really know. It was an odd complex swirl of negative emotions in your gut you couldn’t quite shake.

“We’re only going to get paid half.” The statement comes out without much thought, and you don’t really know that it’s useful right now, but it’s all you offer him when he turns back to you, and you find you’re still unable to tear your stare away from her body.

“Yeah.” Is all he offers back.

It’s completely silent the rest of the way back to the ship, and it’s long. Despite it not being very far, the pace at which the two of you could watch with your injuries was near comical. And, although you weren’t the one carrying her body, you felt the weight of it regardless. Like the hate she had for you in her soul had latched on and refused to let go, weighing you down with each step. He wastes no time throwing her in carbonate when you finally arrive despite the state of her. Easier to transport most likely. Even when he moved to the cockpit you found yourself standing before her frozen body. Her features hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Even in death she was beautiful, but something about her expression didn’t suit her. What an odd thought to have. You didn’t even know her, hardly exchanged words with her, she was nothing more than your quarry to collect and turn in.

Only, she’s so much more than that isn’t she? How many people did know her? Did she have a family? A lover? How many would mourn her death, if any at all? Would some celebrate instead? Maybe it was your own near death experiences just moments before that has you wondering these things you hadn’t really wondered about a quarry before. Who would mourn you when you died? Absent-mindedly you run your fingers over the painted bird on your pauldron.

“I heard about your little rampage after Ko’van’s death…”

Eldon’s voice echoes through your mind, haunting you from the grave.

“Hey.” The Mandalorian startles you from the ladder, before making his way over to you, “You alright?”

“Yeah, sorry…” You offer quietly, running a hand over the top of your helmet with a sigh, “Just a bit out of it.”

He glances over to Yanu’s slate, then back to you. Wordlessly, he sets a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Why don’t you patch yourself up? I’ll meet you back in the cockpit.” You give him a nod, and his hand falls from your shoulder. He limps his way back to the ladder, giving you one last glance before climbing up to the cockpit. Similarly, you give Yanu’s carbonate slate one last look, before shoving it flush with the others and grabbing a fresh set of clothes and locking yourself in the fresher.

You take your helmet off and set it on the edge of the sink, taking a deep breath and savoring the cool air of the ship. You rest both hands on either side of the sink and lean all your weight down onto sore shoulders, letting your head hang as you close your eyes and focus on your breathing. When you open them back up, and lift your head to peer into the mirror, you’re shocked at the state of you.

It’s been a while since you’ve seen your face so beat up and bruised. Evidence of Eldon’s capture is clearly marked into your skin. Bruises from his own attacks, and from being pushed into the console so many times, plus the cuts and scrapes from everything else. Dried blood covered your face from a busted lip, a once bloody nose, and matted in your hair from where you were hit in the head just one too many times. Your left eye was swollen, and flooded red where it should be white. A broken blood vessel from the struggle. You were hardly recognizable.

With a sigh you begin the tedious process of undressing. Chestplate first, left pauldron, right pauldron, holsters, belt–

You freeze when your fingers glide over your belt to unhook it. Carefully and slowly you reach around and grab an old and worn device. Unclipping it you hold it in your palm in front of you, staring down at the offending piece of metal, Eldon’s voice returning to the deep edges of your mind.

“When’s the last time that little tracking fob of yours has blinked?”

Your thumb traces the edge of it. How did he even know about this? As far as you knew, you were the only one who knew you still had it, and even you had forgotten it in the chaos that's been your life the last couple months. When was the last time it blinked?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You come back up to the cockpit freshly changed, with your helmet under your arm a few hours later. It took you much longer to dress all your wounds than you had previously estimated, and when you find the hatch door doesn’t slide open for you right away, you guess the Mandalorian was in the same boat.

“Can I come in?” You knock lightly on the metal door.

“One second.” He grunts out, and you can hear him shuffling around on the other side of the door.

“I can come back if you’re—” The cockpit doors slide open before you can finish your offer. The Mandalorian stands at the doorway in only his flight suit, his armor a neat pile in the corner. He steps aside and motions for you to come in, so you do.

“Where’s the kid?” You ask as you set your helmet down on the console, taking your usual seat in the copilot's chair.

“Sleeping.” He sits back down in his own seat, notioning to the closed metal pod opposite of you.

“Really? I’m shocked. You’ve just gotten back and he’s sleeping?” You scoff in disbelief, crossing your arms and sinking into your seat with a smug grin.

The Mandalorian only shrugs, “He hardly slept when you got captured. Probably wore himself out.”

Your smile immediately drops. Hearing that absolutely breaks your heart. How scared must the kid have been during all of this? You let your arms drop to your lap with a sigh. You didn’t even realize the kid cared about you that much, considering he always seemed so upset when the Mandalorian left and wanted nothing to do with you. You hadn’t even considered the fact he might fuss the same way for you. To know he hardly slept the whole way to Felucia from Naboo? You feel the guilt for what happened slowly creep back into you.

“I’m sorry again, for Naboo–” You try to apologize but he cuts you off.

“I already told you, you have nothing to be sorry for. I was the one who said we should go.”

“Yeah, but why?” You swivel your chair to face him fully and he turns to match, “Why would you, if you knew it was a trap?”

He just stares at you for a moment, “You really don’t remember do you?” When you shake your head lightly he sighs.

“Yeah. I knew something wasn’t right with Eldon’s story…” He lifts his visor slightly and you know his eyes are level with yours, “But I also knew how important it was for you to help him.”

There's a bout of silence as you try to fully process what he just said. He was right, you had nearly forgotten why you agreed to help in the first place, you knew it was an insane job, you didn’t want to do it at all–but Eldon was an old friend, someone in need. When he looked you in the eyes and pleaded for your help, you couldn’t help but think of how Ko’van would have dropped everything to lend a hand. To Ko’van, friends were family–and you did anything to help family. It was one of the things you loved most about him, how loyal and compassionate he was not only to you, but to everyone.

“I didn’t fully understand at the time.” The Mandalorian continues after a moment, “But once I got up to the cockpit after our disagreement, I realized I was being unfair to you. It was obvious helping him was important to you somehow, but I was frustrated because I didn’t know what was going on with you.”

You can’t help how your brows furrowed in confusion, “What–...what do you mean?”

He sighs and shifts back in his seat, dropping his gaze to the cockpit floor, “You had been acting…different–ever since I even mentioned Naboo. You made it clear you didn’t want to talk about it, and I was fine with that. I trusted that you would open up when you were ready, but you didn’t. You kept pushing me away–promising me you were fine when I knew you weren’t.”

He shakes his helmet lightly, “Then, in the middle of the night I hear you leave the ship without a word. I tried to give you some space, figured you just needed some time alone, but you were gone for hours. Then I found out you left without any of your things? I was–” He sighs, and his voice drops to a much softer volume, just above a whisper, “...I was worried.”

You feel awful. All you wanted to do was apologize over and over. You were in such a bad head space at the time you went out without much thought, you hadn’t even considered the Mandalorian in the slightest.

“When I finally found you out there and you called out his name…” He starts again quietly before you get the chance to apologize like you want to, “When I saw you break down like that…'' You notice his fist clench and unclench on the arm rest, the creak of the leather filling in the silence as he tries to find the words he was looking for, “On the way back to the ship I felt like you finally let me in. Even if it was just the smallest amount–it felt like progress. I finally felt like I could understand what you were going through–like I could help you. But then the next morning it–you completely changed again. You refused to talk to me–kept pushing me out–”

“I’m so sorry I should have told you–” You try to finally apologize but he cuts you off.

“No.” His visor snaps back up to you, “I said I trusted you to open up when you were ready. Yet, I became frustrated because you weren’t. That’s not fair to you. I should have never said what I did to you that morning.”

“You were just trying to look out for me, and you were right–” You try to reason.

“I was being selfish.” He leans forward and seems to hesitate a second before he reaches out and sets a hand on your shoulder, “I’m sorry. I want you to be able to open up, but only when you’re comfortable. Not because you feel like you have to.”

You wordlessly stare into his visor for a few moments, absorbing everything he’s said up until this point and his apology. You drop your head for a second before meeting his visor again and placing your hand over his on your shoulder. You didn’t need him to apologize, not in the slightest. You weren’t upset by what he had said at all. Yes, at the time it hurt, and above all you were offended, but the feeling never lingered, you never held what he said against him. But even still, you appreciated the apology more than you realized you would. Knowing he took the initiative not because you were upset with him, but because he wanted to do better, struck a certain cord with you that you couldn’t quite explain.

“Thank you.” You finally reply quietly, giving his hand a light squeeze.

He gives you a nod in return before allowing his hand to fall from your shoulder and turn back to the controls of the ship.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days in hyperspace are quiet. You spend more time than you would like to admit napping in your seat in the cockpit. Everything that had happened this last week had finally caught up with you, and you found yourself dozing off more often than not. At first you were embarrassed about it, that is until you discovered the Mandalorian was doing the same.

You’ve only caught him a couple of times, the first was on your way to the fresher after having woken up yourself. You came down the ladder to find him sitting on the floor with the baby in his lap, helmet resting on the wall behind him. You didn’t even realize he was sleeping at first. It wasn’t until you tried to speak to him and he quickly lifted his head off the wall that it fully registered that he had dozed off while playing with the kid. You felt bad for disturbing him, so after a quick apology you were quick to flee the scene.

The second was in the cockpit. You don’t even remember falling asleep, or what had happened before you did, so when you shot up suddenly from a nightmare and quickly surveyed the space, you were surprised to see the Mandalorian seated next to you. Only, he was slumped over slightly, helmet lazily resting against his shoulder, and with the way his chest was slowly rising and falling with long, relaxed breaths, you knew immediately he had fallen asleep too. The sight of his vulnerable figure next to you almost instantly settled your racing heart beat and you quickly settled back into a comfortable spot in your seat and allowed yourself to drift right back to sleep.

Much to your surprise, the kid has been pretty well behaved too. Opting to nap when the rest of you are napping, and not being nearly as fussy as usual. You figured that although he hadn’t sustained any injuries like you or the Mandalorian, he probably felt all of the same stress, and it had caught up with him in the same way it had you. You’ve been trying to give him extra attention, spend your time playing with him, chasing him around the hull, rolling his favorite silver ball back and forth, or playing puppet with that stuffed frog you bought him last time you were on Nevarro.

Your favorite though, is just holding him. Stroking those big ears, booping his little nose, hugging him tightly against your chest. It’s amazing how much comfort his little body can provide. Everytime you pick him up and feel his warmth seep into you, it feels like it seeps right into your soul. Each time you pick him up and he nuzzles into you, you feel only that much more fulfilled, and you cherish every minute of it.

But right now, while you sit in the cockpit alone with the baby peacefully snoozing away in your arms, that comfort quickly turns into a sinking feeling in your belly. Somehow, it’s only now you’re realizing the reality of Yanu’s death, the reality of what happens when you make it to Nevarro. It’s been so long you’ve been traveling with the Mandalorian and the child, that you had almost completely forgotten the terms. You were only traveling together for this job, and now that job was done.

You remember at the beginning of your time together, you were nearly counting down the days it was over with. You couldn’t wait to turn in the bounty and leave with a pocket full of credits, leaving the Mandalorian and his foundling to your memory. But now? With the sleeping child in your arms you find your heart souring at the thought. So much has changed since then. You were ready to die for this child just days ago, you and The Mandalorian had become so much closer, risked your lives for each other several times already, and developed a new level of trust that was missing before.

These weren’t strangers anymore, no the Mandalorian and the child were so much more than that now. You were comrades, partners, maybe even friends. You trusted him with your life, with your armor, and with your secrets. Although you still had a long way to go, you had already opened up to the Mandalorian more than you had anyone else since Ko’van’s death.

You break your sad gaze from the child in your arms when you hear the hatch doors slide open and familiar footsteps advance into the cockpit next to you. You watch his shimmering reflection in the transparisteel as he makes his way in and into his seat. His image is warped in the curve of it, distorted and stretched and fuzzy in the mix of starlight from hyperspace. Will this be how you remember them years from now? Not as it happened, but as they appear in a reflection, in a dream?

Is that how they will remember you?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The thought haunts you for the next couple days in hyperspace. It’s daunting presence in your mind only grows the closer you get to Nevarro. The silence of hyperspace feels nearly suffocating now, your thoughts and worries echoing in your brain like war drums. It shouldn’t bother you so much, why is it bothering you so much? You worked a job together, you finished the job, you part ways. That's how this works, you know that…but, stars. You don’t want to be alone again.

The thought hits you all at once while you’re in the hull by yourself. You’re standing in front of your things, still packed away and shoved in a corner not having moved much since the day you brought them aboard. You have shuffled through and grabbed what you needed, when you needed it, but never made any effort to unpack otherwise. Alone. The word echoes in your mind as you peer at your meger pile of belongings. Alone. You had almost nearly forgotten how suffocating it was to live that way. You had told yourself it was because you wanted it that way. Wanted to be alone to grieve in peace, wallow in the death of your beloved. After traveling with the Mandalorian and the child however, it’s clear how much you don’t want it that way.

Especially now. With Eldon’s sick words echoing over and over in your head, and the lingering thought that maybe he was right. You weren’t able to secure the bounty, you barely made it out of there alive, and you put yourself, the Mandalorian, and the child all in danger because you were too trusting of an old friend. Everything he said, as much as you tell yourself he only said it to get under your skin…it was true. Every sharp and daggered word Eldon dug into you, only bothered you as much as it did because you knew deep down there was truth to each one.

You kneel down a rifle through your sad pile, pulling out a familiar box. You slowly and delicately run your fingers along the edges of it before taking off the top. Your fingers brush over the various momentos you find yourself refusing to ever let go of. His old sleep shirt, a necklace, a crumpled note. It doesn’t matter how many things you kept of him, it never feels like enough.

You take a deep breath before relenting and taking out the note, flattening it out best you can.

Sen’ika,

Didn’t want to wake you, I’ll be back in a few hours.

I love you more than all the stars and moons combined.

I’ll come back to you soon.

Sleep well, beautiful.

-Ko’van

You can’t help but smile. A bittersweet swell in your heart that causes tears to threaten at the corners of your eyes. You press the note tight against your chest, as close to your heart as you can possibly hold it. When he was alive you kept it to make fun of him for being such a sap. After he died…well, the promise of him being back soon was one you’ve never really been able to let go of.

You hesitantly slowly pull the note away from your chest and carefully fold it back up and tuck it back into the box, swallowing down the sting in the back of your throat from holding back tears. Hearing a small noise behind you, you glance over your shoulder and are surprised to find the Mandalorian standing next to the ladder, watching you. He says nothing, but the rise of his shoulders and slight glint of the hull lights against his chest plate expose the deep breath he takes when you lock eyes with his visor. The two of you say nothing, just remain suspended in the silence.

What could you even say? You give him a courteous, sad smile to acknowledge him, before turning back to your things, tucking your box of sentimentals away and tidying up your pile for easy transport when you make it to Nevarro. He continues to stand there a while longer, watching you pack away your things. You wonder what exactly it is he’s thinking. Was he looking forward to your departure? Was he still counting down the minutes until you finally left him and his foundling to their own peace and quiet without you? Maybe he wasn’t thinking about you at all, simply counting the credits from the job in his head, thinking of all the things he will buy with them.

“We’ll be landing on Nevarro in a few hours.” He breaks the silence, watching you finish up with your belongings and standing back to your full height.

“I’ll be ready.” You reassure him. You assume that's his polite way of letting you know you need to be ready to get off his ship by the time you get there. Only…your attention is drawn to his hands at his sides when you hear the creaking of leather. Tightening and untightening his fists, and when you look up–although you can’t see his face, you can tell–you can just tell he wants to say more.

You wait a moment…and then you wait two before finally deciding to speak up.

“If you ever–”

“You can always–” He begins to speak at the same time as you, and you cut each other off before either of you can finish. You can’t help the little huff of laughter that escapes you with how awkward the moment is before you try again. “Well, I was going to say if you ever need help on another job, I’ll be more than happy to lend a hand.” You finish, with a smile.

“I was going to offer the same.” He replies with a nod, but something about his posture, something about his tone, perhaps? Honestly, you aren’t sure what it is that makes you think that he’s lying, but you’re almost certain he is. He’s just being polite, you tell yourself, deciding not to question it.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“To say I’m disappointed is…an understatement.” Karga sighs dramatically with a wave of his hand.

You and the Mandalorian exchange a subtle glance from where you sit across the table from Karga at the cantina. This is probably his tenth or so time relaying how upset he is with the results of the mission, and probably his hundredth time giving you a deep and dramatic sigh.

“With how long the two of you spent chasing her around the galaxy I had high hopes you would have brought her back alive.” He points a finger between the two of you with a furrowed brow, like the two of you were children being scolded.

The Mandalorian seems used to Karga’s antics, he sits patiently, leaning back in his seat, one arm resting on the back as Karga rants away about how disappointed he is. Must not be uncommon for him to act this way, and remembering how he treated you the first time the two of you met, you think it’s definitely within the realms of his personality to be an utter pain in your ass.

Karga looks between the two of you, clearly frustrated with your silence, “Well? Anything to say for yourselves?”

You simply shrug, your patience with him growing thinner by the second, “She’s in carbonite, isn’t she?”

“The client requested her alive!” He lightly pounds his fist onto the table, and despite your helmet, you roll your eyes.

“Things got complicated. If the client felt so strongly about it, they should have chased her across the galaxy themselves.” You retort, and Karga huffs in frustration with your apathetic demeanor.

“I picked you both specifically for this job because I trusted you could get it done, and get it done properly!” He huffs a sigh and slumps back in his seat, clearly annoyed with you both, “Mando? Care to explain yourself at all?” He notions his open palm to the Mandalorian in an exasperated manner, seeing as the Mandalorian hasn’t said two words since the three of you sat down. The Mandalorian simply tilts his visor to Karga without a word, and Karga lets his hand fall to the tabletop with a smack.

“Well, seeing as the two of you clearly don’t care, I don’t feel so bad letting you know now.” Karga shrugs, pretending to be unbothered as he pointedly looks somewhere else in the cantina.

“Let us know what, exactly?” You tilt your helmet in question, growing suspicious of his sudden change of demeanor.

He looks back at you, and gives you a quick once over before letting out a sigh, “Because the client is so upset by the…results of your mission, they will only pay a quarter of the originally agreed price.” The Mandalorian’s visor snaps upright at the news.

“A quarter?!” You lean forward in your seat threateningly, “No, we should at least get half!” You jab a finger into the top of the table to drive your point across.

“Fifteen thousand for each of you. That’s it. No negotiations.” Karga crosses his arms and your heart drops. That was nothing, mere chump change for the amount of work you put into this job, for the amount of times your life was at risk. You knew you were going to get a cut when you brought her back dead, but a quarter? How did you go from sixty thousand to fifteen? You think–no, you’re definitely going to be sick after hearing that.

“We’ll turn it in somewhere else.” The Mandalorian finally speaks up, angrily swiping the fob off the table and going to get up.

“Not so fast.” Karga interrupts him and he pauses, “This is a private client, they operate through me exclusively. No one else can cash out that fob for you.” This was a nightmare. An actual worst case scenario. The Mandalorian sits back down after a moment, admitting defeat when he slides the fob back onto the table.

Karga sighs again as he fishes out the credits and places two pouches on the table in front of you both, “You’re lucky you’re getting paid at all. It’s going to take a lot to earn my trust back after this. You’re not the only one losing credits here you know.”

You stare at the pouch of credits in front of you, a sinking pit in your stomach threatening to swallow you whole. You think you’re getting dizzy, the air in the cantina is suddenly thick and suffocating, you can’t breathe. You quickly rise from your seat and snatch your pouch off the table before making your swift entrance.

Fifteen thousand…fifteen thousand…

You repeat the amount to yourself as you briskly make your way through the streets of Nevarro, the weight of the pouch tugging on your belt. You couldn’t buy shit for fifteen thousand. You could maybe rent a speeder for the weekend, but what good was that going to do you on this garbage dump of a planet? Fifteen thousand…you scoff.

You think about all the shit you went through on this job. The botched attempt on Coruscant, the shit you did for repairs on Utrost, your failed incognito attempt on Catonica, not to mention the hell you went through on Naboo and everything after.

You want to throw your body down onto the ground and scream at the top of your lungs like a child and curse the maker–curse the stars! Curse the very stars you spent months scouring and hiding in these last couple months. All for fifteen thousand credits…

You stop short, halting suddenly when you realize you’re right in front of the Mandalorian’s ship. You had walked here completely on impulse, without even thinking, maybe even out of habit at this point. But, it’s only now, now that you’re right in front of it, do you realize this isn’t your place anymore. A new pit forms, deep in your chest. Sharper than the last, when you realize exactly what this means for you. Alone. No credits. No ship.

You were right back at square one. Right back where you started before all of this. Absolutely no progress was made. Honestly If anything, you’ve taken steps back. Once again you’ll have to figure something out, continue to struggle and scrounge together what you can to simply survive. Stars, you were so exhausted. You had really thought, after this job maybe you could take a break. Not even a long one–just a break. You let a sad and defeated sigh ring through your modulator as you stare out at the ship in front of you.

You startle when you feel a hand on your shoulder, but relax the instant you turn around and realize it’s the Mandalorian. You were so lost in your own head you didn’t even hear him come up behind you. He takes a breath like he’s about to say something, but you start before he can.

“Don’t worry, I’m grabbing my stuff right now, then I’ll be out.” You reassure him, figuring you would spare him the trouble of kicking you out himself. You quickly make your way up the ramp and start pulling your things together, strapping them tight together for easier carry. He follows soon behind you, leaning against the entrance to the ramp, watching you.

“What’s next for you then?” He finally asks, as you’re tugging a strap as tight as it will go.

“Probably going to stay on Nevarro for a while.” you admit, purposefully ignoring the fact you don’t really have another choice. You were practically stranded here.

“There’s no work on Nevarro.” He states bluntly, thumb tucked into his belt, while you continue to tighten up your things.

“I’m sure I’ll find something.” You brush him off, reassuring yourself more than him.

“As a shop assistant maybe.” He remarks, sarcastically

“What's wrong with being a shop assistant?” You shrug at the idea.

“Nothing, it’s just not fitting for you.”

“What’s that's supposed to mean?” You stand full to face him, hands on your hips.

“You’re a hunter, and a damn good one at that.” He drops his hands to his sides and pushes off the entrance, taking slow, intentful steps toward you, “You’re one of the strongest fighters I’ve met, you fight like you’ve been training your whole life for it.” He stops right in front of you, mere inches away, “You belong out there on the field. Not behind some counter or sweeping some tile.”

You feel yourself subconsciously suck in a breath at his words. Everything you had been so worried about, all those times you had felt like you weren’t good enough, all those times you felt like you weren’t cut out for this job, and yet, here he was. Telling you the exact opposite, saying it would be a waste for you to do anything else. You can’t help but feel like he’s exaggerating, but even despite that, it feels so good to hear it.

“If…if you want…,” he starts, almost shyly, “I could use your help out there. Finding a crewmate of your ability is rare these days.”

You can’t help the smile that creeps up under your helm, “Are you offering to be my employer?” You tease with a slight tilt of your helmet.

“More like a colleague…but yes.” His words swim warmly around your head. He wanted you to stay, he wanted to continue to work with you. Even through all that you put him through–even though all you put each other through, even after how this job ended up. He wanted you to stay, to work with him, to fight alongside him.

It makes you happier than you would care to admit to knowing he thinks so highly of you, to appreciate your company enough to offer for you to stay, so you decide to give him a hard time instead.

“I don’t know.” You sigh dramatically, playfully, “What’s in it for me exactly?”

He pauses for a moment, as if he didn’t expect that response. He shifts his gaze to the floor for a moment to think, before he aligns his visor with your once more.

“Fifteen thousand credits isn’t enough for a ship.” He argues, and you smile.

Guess you’ll be sticking around a little longer than expected.

***

Previous - MASTER - Next A/N: ANDDDDD thats a wrap on arc one! Thank you all so much for taking the time to read my story and for all of the kind and supportive comments <3 I know I’m slow to update so thank you\ all for being patient with me as well. ALSO for those of you who have seen the latest bobf episode you probably notice some similarities and I promise you it is PURE coincidence. My heart nearly dropped when I saw the finale and knew I had this sitting in my drafts. SIGH oh well! I hope you all enjoy it anyways!

Taglist: @bookloverfilmoholic , @mysun-n-stars , @notagamersdey, @janebby , @um-well

#the mandalorian #din x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #Din x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x you #mando x reader #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction #fanfic #din djarin

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brokenbeskar · 2 years

Photo

come get yall juice

#havoc draws

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brokenbeskar · 2 years

Note

How am I just now firing your absolutely AMAZING wiriting?!!!! This story is just. Wow. I’m catching myself holding my breath and laughing and I really can’t put it into words how awesome this story is. Phenomenal writing!

You are so sweet, thank you so much for this message ♥

Heres an angry Mando doodle for you as thanks

#havoc answers #havoc draws #MR art #i never know how to respond to nice comments because im so shy so i never do #but i seriously appreciate them all ♥#they really inspire me to keep writing and genuinely make my day #also MR is such a personal story to me its nice to know others are enjoying it as well #Also props to whoever remembers what chapter this scene is from

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brokenbeskar · 2 years

Text

A Fool in Fool’s Hands

Chapter 9 of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 8.9k

Summary: with no sign of the Mandalorian you begin to lose hope for what could become of you at your kidnapers mercy.

Warnings: violence, suicidal ideation, a nightmare sequence

A/N: So sorry for the long wait between updates! I recently got promoted and have been moving locations a lot at work so it’s been hard to find time to write. Not to mention I really struggled with this one. Hopefully you all enjoy it though <3

“Eldon?” You grumble in disbelief. You hear his footsteps progress in your direction, until they stop just behind you.

"That's right." He uses his boot to shove your shoulder down, forcing you onto your back uncomfortably so you can look up at him, "You're finally awake."

You squint up at him, the bright lights from above his silhouette blinding to your still sensitive eyes.

“Took you longer than I thought,” he hums, “Must have hit you harder than I meant to.”

There's a million questions racing through your head; What happened? How did you get here? Why can’t you remember anything after the argument? Where’s the Mandalorian? Where is Eldon taking you? They all race through your mind as your eyes flick back and forth desperately searching for his eyes in his darkened figure--

“Why?” Is all you can manage to finally mutter out, your words sticking to your throat in a mixture of exhaustion, pain, and confusion.

“Why?” He repeats, grinding his boot into your shoulder as he leans down, his features finally becoming legible as the distance between you shrinks, “Isn’t it obvious?”

The lack of compassion in his eyes throws you off, what you remember of joy and innocence in his eyes has been replaced with something dark and sinister. You were right when you were analysing him back at the restaurant, he’s changed. He’s not the Eldon you once knew.

He sighs, frustrated with your lack of response, and shoves your shoulder away with his boot as he stands to his full height and turns to face the other side of the hull.

“The Guild doesn’t pay what it used to,” He shrugs, “So I started to look for jobs elsewhere.”

You turn on your side best you can to face him fully, the bracers digging into your wrists uncomfortably, making them feel raw.

“So you started working for the Hutts?” You spit out at him, bitterly.

He lets out a huff of short laughter before turning to face you again, “Not always, but I gotta admit they pay quite well…” He leans down slightly and smirks, “And with the price they have on your head? I’m sure you would be tempted too.”

You just scowl at him. After all you and Ko’van had done for him--only for him to turn on you for mere credits…

“I can't lie, I was a bit surprised when I found out it was you they wanted me to go after.” He scoffs, “I mean--damn I haven’t seen you since...how long has it been now?” He makes a point to count a couple of his own fingers before waving it off, “Gotta admit I was kind of hoping for more of a challenge. I mean...We started bounty hunting around the same time didn’t we? You always seemed so much more put together--I thought this would finally be my chance to prove myself y'know?” He gestures wildly in the air when he talks, and with each movement you feel your disdain for him growing.

You’re trying to subtly shift your wrists in the binders, hoping to find a way to sneak out of them, when he sighs loudly, “But I guess you aren’t as impressive without your husband around anymore…” You freeze.

“And I guess you didn’t learn anything from his death either,” He laughs, “Still far too trusting…” He drags each word out darkly as he slowly takes a few threatening steps towards you, shaking his head. “Shut up!” You spit out as you squirm on the floor. Once you get out of these binders he’s a dead man. You’ll be sure of it.

“Poor Ko’van…” He mocks as he paces back and forth next to you, “Too nice for his own good. Betrayed by a stranger, leaving his poor wife alone…” He gives you a big dramatic pout, “Must have been so hard for you.”

He shakes his head lightly before immediately perking back up, resting a finger on his chin pretending to think, “Y’know--I wonder if you both could have escaped if he didn’t try to play the hero--y’know like he always did.” He remarks, rolling his eyes.

“Stop! We did nothing but help you, Eldon!” You shout angrily, “Don’t talk about him like that!”

“Oh?” Eldon tilts his head at you, before taking another slow and deliberate step towards you, “Don’t talk about him like that?” He lets out a dark chuckle from deep in his throat, “You know...I heard he got all messed up in the explosion. Tell me--,” He leans down and grabs your jaw roughly pulling you uncomfortably close to his face, locking your eyes to his.

“What was it like? Having to pull out his mangled body from the rubble? Hm?”

You wince at the reminder, flashes of that day invading every inch of your mind.

“Stop, Eldon!” You try to pull your face from his grasp but he squeezes you tighter.

“How long did it take you to find all the missing pieces?” He tilts your head to inspect your traumatized expression, “Were you able to put him back together again? Or were pieces still missing?”

You give up struggling. Fall limp in his grasp. Overwhelmed at the horrible reminder of everything you went through. Images you fight to forget everyday, suddenly flooding every inch of you like you were right there all over again.

“Stop...please…” You beg, defeatedly.

“How disappointing.” Eldon sighs loudly before roughly tossing you aside. He takes a couple steps back, outstretching his arms on either side of him, “So this is what you’ve done with all he’s taught you?” He taunts, projecting his voice as if displaying your broken spirit to the stars, “This is what has become of the legendary Song Bird?” He scoffs, letting his arms drop limply back to his sides.

“Pathetic…” He mutters.

And you just lay there limply, as if confirming his point.

This was all too much for you. You just want a break--for once since his death you just want a damn break. The worst part is that Eldon had a point. You would be disappointed if Ko’van was watching you now. You would be embarrassed. Having let yourself get caught so easily, fooled by someone you thought you could trust, and then to be lying here defeated...this wasn’t how you were supposed to be. You were supposed to carry on his legacy, rise above it, bring pride to the armor you wore, honor it as a warrior, honor him--but what kind of honor are you bringing to his memory like this?

You roll onto your back trying to forget the pain in your wrists from your restraints and sigh. What more could you do? You’re restrained, kidnapped, going who knows where, no weapons, no chance of escape, and a pounding headache. The odds were truly stacked against you.

Eldon watches you with a critical eye as you lay there, and takes a seat on a crate from across the hull, never breaking his gaze, probably unable to believe you would accept your own fate so easily. And you haven’t. No, you’re not giving up just yet. It’s clear Eldon wants you alive for some reason--he could have killed you ages ago if he wanted, so you figure you might as well wait until the ship lands wherever he’s taking you, and try to make your escape from there.

It nearly catches you by surprise, how in the silence, your mind wonders not to your late husband, or your plans for escape, but instead your mind wanders to the Mandalorian. You're lingering on the argument you had. Desperately trying to remember what happened after. You wonder if he’s okay, if the kid is okay.

You replay your overreaction to his concern over and over in your head. Because that's truly what it was; an overreaction. He was just trying to tell you he was worried--and you totally blew up on him.

And worst of all?

He was right. About everything. You put him and the kid in danger because you were too caught up in your own feelings to even listen to him. And now you were in an even bigger mess because of it. You just wish you got the chance to apologize.

“You don’t deserve his armor…” Eldon nearly whispers as he fiddles with something in his lap. His sudden break of silence catches your attention, so you roll your head in his direction to see what he’s going on about--

You immediately jump into a sit when you realize it’s your helmet in his grasp. Somehow it’s only now you're registering that you’re not wearing it. How long ago did he take that from you?

“How did you get that?” You hiss.

“How do you think?” He scoffs, “Don’t play dumb.”

“Give it back.”

“Oh?” He raises an eyebrow, “And what are you gonna do if I don’t?”

“You act like I wouldn’t kill you the first chance I get.”

“Well I don’t see you trying”

You’re sick of him.

You're sick of his smug ass look, you're sick of his disgusting, dirty, traitor hands on your helmet, you're sick of his attitude.

You’re gonna kill him. Wring his neck, crush his bones beneath your boots, gut him like a wild animal, and break his teeth. You imagine all of it as he tilts your helmet back and forth in his gasp.

He starts idly picking at some of the paint that’s started to chip, worn with battle and time, and with each pick you feel the tension building inside of you. And when he finally manages to get a piece to snap, so does your resolve. You jump to your feet and lunge at him with a fury and deep roar, all of your anger and hate for him finally boiling over and filling you with a burning rage.

But the second you get off the ground, the ship sways violently in the opposite direction, and a roar far louder and monstrous than your own echoes through the ship, flinging you roughly against the wall opposite of Eldon as he also tumbles to the ground with a curse.

You struggle to regain your footing with your arms bound and a searing pain in your side from the impact when the ship lurches again. You skid across the floor until you collide painfully with the crate Eldon was sitting on and you hear him yell out again.

“Damn it all!” He shouts as he grabs onto an available railing along the wall to hold himself steady in the commotion.

“What in Malacor was that?” You grit as you roll onto your back, trying to relieve some of the agonizing pressure from your binds.

There's another bone chilling rumble from deep within the belly of the ship. The vibrations from it echo throughout the ship and you can feel it in the floor beneath you, causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up. Eldon simply lets out a small chuckle.

“Ah, that’s just Dras.” He smirks, pushing off of the wall he's leaning on for support and making his way down the hull away from you, “Hope you don’t mind I named him after you two.”

It takes you far too long to realize what in the galaxy he’s talking about. It’s not until you remember your deal at the restaurant that you think you’ve put the pieces together.

“The Rancor? You actually brought a Rancor on this ship?”

“Of course I did. I paid good money for him. He’s my pet.” Eldon waves you off as he continues walking.

“A pet? And you named it after us? That thing is gonna rip this ship in half!” You shout at him as he seems to ignore you, continuing his trek to the end of the hull. He stops at a door and presses a button on the wall to open it, and turns to look at you before stepping inside.

“I needed some company after I left. And what better to remind me of you two than the most fearsome beast in the galaxy?” He lets out a chuckle before stepping into the empty doorway.

“Stay put.” He threatens before the door closes behind him.

You’re not sure whether you should take what he said as a compliment or an insult, but one thing that's for sure is you are definitely not going to “stay put.” Immediately you struggle to your feet the best you can with your arms bound, and begin searching for your helmet. You swear it must have rolled somewhere during the commotion, but the longer you search with no results, you realize he must have taken it with him.

“Ferrik!” You curse and kick the crate Eldon was sitting on just moments ago. You feel so violated knowing his filthy hands are all over your helmet. It feels wrong. No one should be able to touch it. No one should be able to defile it like he has. No one can hold that helmet in their grasp other than you. Only you.

Through your disgust you hear a faint noise from the opposite side of the hull. It echoes softly from another area of the ship, calling to you like an alluring whisper. Allowing your curiosity to get the better of you, you slowly, cautiously sneak your way closer to the sound. It grows in volume as you progress your way down the hull until you find yourself standing in front of a closed door.

You press your ear to it, the faint sound--a voice of some sort? Is coming from the otherside. You activate the panel on the wall and the door slides open revealing the cockpit, nestled slightly lower than the hold of the ship you were being kept in. Descending the few steps into the belly of the cockpit you freeze when you recognize a familiar voice barely crackling over the static through the control panel.

“Eld--......Come in--......Last--.....Eldon--” The Mandalorian’s voice barely manages to break through, but is unmistakable. You rush to the ship’s main panel and quickly hit the comms button on the control panel, you have to be quick before Eldon returns.

“Mandalorian!” You shout over the comm in a subdued voice, “Stars, am I happy to hear your voice, Tinman!” You feel your eyes well up with relief. He was okay, and he didn’t abandon you. Despite everything, he didn’t abandon you. As easy as it would be to simply turn around and forget about you, he didn’t abandon you.

You can barely make out what sounds like your name through the static when you hear him reply, only catching a few syllables here and there, “Are--...Okay? Where--...” More static.

“I’m fine, but I can’t hear you. Shiny?” You quickly look over the navcomp, “It looks like he’s taking us to Felucia. Can you hear me?”

Static.

“Mandalorian? Can you hear me? We’re heading to Felu--” You’re cut off when you hear the door to the cockpit slamming shut, and whip around to find Eldon standing in front of it with his arms crossed. You stare in horror, how did he get up here so fast? He was barely gone, you thought you had more time.

“I thought I told you to stay put.” He takes one menacing step towards you and you instinctively take a small step back. You glare up at him, menacingly.

“Poking around someone else’s ship without asking is a bit rude isn’t it?” He wags a finger at you and takes another step forward. You take another back in response, and bump against the control panel.

“What are you up to in here anyway, little bird?” He takes another forward step, the distance between the two of you quickly closing as you struggle to press your body as close to the control panel as you possibly can, feeling the sharp edges bite into your lower back.

“Don’t call me that.” You growl out, never breaking your glare. He takes another step so there's only mere inches between the two of you, and you lean away from him.

He takes one last step, and leans in over you, resting his hand on the control panel next to you, “Or what, little bird?” You can feel his hot breath on you, and it makes you want to puke. Your whole body is screaming for him to get away from you, to shut the hell up. It feels like he’s defiling your nickname just by letting it fall from his lips. A name that once felt so comforting feels so wrong coming from him, and you hate it.

He goes to grab you, and you quickly duck past the space under his arm. You try to round back with a high kick to the back of his head, but he swings around and catches your foot mid-air before you’re able to make contact, and he throws you down, sending you tumbling to the floor, unable to catch yourself with your hands bound. He’s about to advance towards you when a blaring static interrupts, pulling both of your attention.

“Eldon--...harm her--.....nowhere---...hide--” The Mandalorian’s voice barely crackles through the harsh static.

A smirk breaks across Eldon’s face as he stares at the center console, “Ah, so that's what you were up to.”

Maybe it’s seeing his disgusting smirk, maybe you’re fed up with the pain, sick of being bound in these bracers, maybe it's pure animalistic instinct, or maybe something about hearing the Mandalorian’s voice again that sparks something within you. Something feral suddenly fires up within you, rushing into your veins and builds in your chest. Pumping your body to the brim with adrenaline and the need to lash out, the need to fight, and the need to win.

Taking advantage of his distraction, you waste no time jumping back to your feet and lunging for him, swinging your bound arms right to his head, and sending him stumbling back with a curse. He doesn’t even have time to react before you round right back onto him with another swing, followed by a kick. He barely manages to block your oncoming back, caught off guard by your sudden burst of aggression, he roughly shoves you away from him, causing you to stumble into the control panel.

You manage to dodge a fierce swing, ducking low when he throws a punch straight towards your face, and you try to throw another swing with your bound arms to retaliate, but he leaps back, just out of your reach. You swing again from the opposite direction, throwing all of your weight into your arms, but he once again jumps back just in time.

As you’re recovering from your swing he manages to land a kick in your exposed side. You try to ignore the pain, sucking in a breath and regaining your footing before relentlessly throwing yourself right back at him. But you’re reckless. In your fury you make another mindless swing for him, leaving yourself wide open and practically begging for another hit.

Eldon wastes no time taking advantage of your negligence. He ruthlessly kicks you in a particularly tender spot on your side, sending a sharp jolt of pain arching through your whole body, and a wave of nausea overwhelms you. You double over and stumble backwards, an over correction to try and protect the sensitive area, but he uses this to his advantage, throwing a strong uppercut right to your lower jaw.

Ears ringing, you fall backwards, smacking against the control panel before falling to your knees on the cockpit floor. You kneel there, heaving, trying to pull it together as quickly as you can. Your whole body trembles from adrenaline and pain when you hear Eldon’s footsteps pounding toward you. You jump to your feet, but you aren’t quick enough. Before you know it, he’s grabbing you by the hair and slamming your head against the control panel. You barely have time to register the pain before the ship lurches suddenly, sending Eldon flying forward into the dash next to you as the ship suddenly gets thrown out of hyperspace.

You try to use the distraction to quickly get yourself upright, but before you can lift up more than a few inches, Eldon is grabbing you by the hair and forcefully slamming your face back down onto the control panel. Searing pain fills your entire head as the various buttons and switches from the main panel dig sharply into your face and he pushes you farther down, using you as leverage to help himself up. You want to threaten him, curse at him, but with how tightly he’s pressing you down into the sharp bites of metal, you’re unable to open your jaw, and only manage a growl of anger to bubble up from your throat. He lets out a dark muted huff of laughter as his grip on your hair tightens, and he leans his whole weight onto you.

“Finally…” He grits out, leaning in close to your ear, just as out of breath as you are from the whole exchange, “This is what I’ve been waiting for...the song bird I’ve been hearing so much about.”

You make a weak attempt to shove him off of you, throw all your weight against him and wiggle free, but his grip on you only tightens, and you can feel the sharp bites of metal starting to break the skin on your face.

“I was wondering what I had to do to get you to snap. I thought it would be easier--I mean--” He lets out a small bout of laughter, “With what they’ve been saying about you and everything, y’know? I thought for sure you would have been merciless from the start! Took a bit more than that, didn’t it?”

With what they’ve been saying about you? Who? And what exactly are they saying? You twist uncomfortably in his grasp, and as if he can sense your confusion he lets out another chuckle and leans in as close as he possibly can to your ear.

“I heard about your little rampage after Ko’van’s death…” You can feel him smirk against the shell of your ear and you halt all of your movements, your eyes widening in shock at the sudden realization of what he’s talking about.

“When’s the last time that little tracking fob of yours has blinked?” He whispers threateningly into your ear. Your blood turns to ice.

You're frozen. Dread fills your very being until there's nothing left of you.

When was the last time it blinked?

Eldon’s sick laughter echoes through the cockpit and through your skull. You're so disconnected from reality it nearly sounds like it's coming from you. Distorted. Like his laugh was being played from blown speakers.

It’s not until the ship sways dramatically after a deep and monstrous roar rattles from deep within the belly of the ship that you’re pulled back to reality. The rancor was getting fussy, probably from the sudden drop from hyperspace. You could feel it rumble in the metal floor beneath you as it stomped around restlessly.

“Dras must be hungry.” Eldon smirks, his grip on your hair unrelenting. He pulls you up from the control panel and you struggle to find purchase on the edge with your bound hands, gritting in pain from his grip, “Maybe I should feed you to him, for being so difficult.”

You can feel the lingering bite from where your face was pressed to the panel, the cool air feeling like such relief on your stinging skin. Eldon turns your head roughly in his direction, inspecting your minor cuts and abrasions from his rough handling and smiles.

“If only Ko’van could see you now.” He laughs--

You spit right in his face.

A mixture of blood and spit lands right between his eyes to mark his disrespect.

“Eat shit.” You hiss through gritted teeth. And you can see the rage build in his eyes, you see his shoulder go taut with hatred, see how his jaw tightens, as his face distorts into a bitter scowl.

You think he’s going to bash your face in, slam you repeatedly into the control panel to teach you a lesson. Beat you black and blue for what you just did. You’re pretty sure you can actually see his violent thoughts swirling just beyond his eyes, but just when he goes to make a move, a loud alarm rings throughout the cockpit, interrupting you.

“Dank farrik!” He shouts, banging his free fist against the center display. Something’s popped up on the radar, and it's approaching fast.

“Give it up Eldon.” The Mandalorian’s voice rings through the comms system much clearer than before, only a mild static distorting his already modulated voice, “I’ve got you cornered. Hand her over unharmed and I’ll let you live.”

Eldon frowns at the display, seemingly weighing his options before he delicately holds down the receiver, “And if I don’t?” He questions, a hint of mischievousness in his voice, “What will you do, exactly? Shoot us down? Kill us both? Seems a little counter productive, doesn’t it, Mando?”

“If you don’t meet my demands, you’ll wish all I had done is shoot you out of the sky.” The Mandalorian’s threat wasn’t even directed at you, but it still sent a chill down your spine.

“Empty threats mean nothing to me, Mando.” Eldon snickers, unbothered, “Besides, me and your friend here are having quite a bit of fun up here aren’t we?” He punches the word out with a forceful yank on your hair and you let out a pained groan in response.

“This is your last warning, Eldon.” The Mandalorian threatens, annoyance evident in his voice.

Eldon hums lightly as if considering The Mandalorians request before he shrugs, “No thanks.” And switches off the receiver and cuts the comms. “Now...where were we?” He yanks you from the panel with his bruising grip on your hair, but before he can do anything, something suddenly impacts the side of the ship causing it to jostle violently, sending both you and Eldon once again tumbling to the floor, alarms blaring deafeningly throughout the cockpit.

He growls and scrambles back up to the control panel, frantically looking over the ship's status to see what hit, and what damage has been done. Another collision and he curses loudly, clutching the dash trying to keep his balance.

“Fucking Mandos. So persistent.” He grits as he furiously tries to silence the alarms and ready the ship to escape.

With Eldon’s back turned to you, you slowly gather yourself to your knees, being extra careful with the resistance from the ship. The Mandalorian was being persistent alright. Persistent to get you back. Unharmed. Maybe at this point you shouldn’t be surprised, but you really, truly, are. Despite how you treated him earlier on Naboo, despite how you’re the one that got yourself into this mess, despite how easy it would be for him to leave you, abandon you, he was trying hard to save you. You creep up into a crouch and slowly slink your way closer behind Eldon. He’s panicking, haphazardly flipping switches and trying to calculate if he can make another jump. If the Mandalorian wasn’t going to give up on you so easily, neither were you.

You jump up and tackle Eldon, throwing your bound arms around his neck and pulling back, hard. He grips at your arms and tries to yank you off as he steps back into your pull, trying to relieve the pressure on his throat as you attempt to choke him. You hit the bottom step of the cockpit and fall back, pulling Eldon on top of you, but he rolls all of his weight to one side, taking you with him and you whack your head hard against the floor. Your grip loosens with the blinding dizzying pain from the impact, and he wastes no time ripping your arms from around his head and clamoring on top of you, pinning you down. You try to wiggle out from under him, resist with all of your might, but stop the instant you hear the unmistakable click from his blaster, and feel the cool barrel press against your forehead.

“I should kill you.” Eldon threatens, eyes wild, and deadly, “I should fucking kill you!” He struggles to shout over all of the alarms, but another, much more forceful blast to the ship pulls his attention. He presses the blaster harder against your head threateningly, “You stay. Move again and I won’t hesitate. Understand me?” He tilts his head at you, but you ignore him, opting to glare at him instead, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

He grits his teeth at your defiance and makes sure you pay for it when he bashes you across the face with his blaster before shoving the barrel back into your temple forcefully.

“I said…do you understand me?” He growls darkly. Your mouth fills with the unmistakable metallic taste of blood. You weakly spit out what you can to the cold floor beneath you as you nod in agreement. The lingering sting from his impact makes you dizzy when combined with the flashing alarms.

A smoky haze starts to fill the cockpit, and you’re almost worried the Mandalorian is actually going to shoot you both out of the sky when Eldon finally stands and turns his back to you to take control of the ship. He lets out an uncontrollable growl of anger as he flicks a couple switches and takes hold of the steering.

The ship rumbles in protest as Eldon punches the acceleration, speeding as fast as he can, but surprisingly whips the ship around in a sharp turn opposite the direction of Felucia.

“Just...just one more jump.” He grits as he tries to pick up even more speed, punching a few more buttons to try and activate one of the ship’s boosters.

You feel it before you see it. Despite all of the blaring alarms, and smoke filling the cockpit, and the loud rumbling of the engine struggling to keep up despite the ship’s damage, just as he’s about to punch it, you feel Eldon halt. You feel his breath get caught in his throat and it’s like the air stales. When you push yourself up onto an elbow, and lift your head enough, you see The Mandalorian’s ship filling nearly the whole viewport directly in front of Eldon’s path.

It takes a moment for Eldon to regain his composure, clearly caught off guard, he quickly scrambles to take hold of the controls. Just as he gets a handle on them, The Mandalorian fires one last debilitating shot, sending the ship falling backwards, nose pointing up into the mass void of space.

Your heart stops, your breath pauses, there's a moment where you’re struggling to keep up with the gravity shift. It’s like time moves in slow motion as you feel yourself begin to tumble backwards, as you watch Eldon struggle for purchase on the controls, as you watch the stars twist and smear around you, as you feel the ship begin to spiral down.

It’s impossible to tell how long you're free falling. In all of the commotion it’s hard to tell what's going on in general. You get trashed around violently with each sway of the ship, unable to get a good grip on anything before getting thrown in the other direction. You hardly can register Eldon’s struggle to gain control back over the ship, or how the Rancor below only worsens the situation with it’s thrashing, it’s all a blur as you tumble. By the time Eldon has finally managed to level the ship, it’s plummeting right to the surface of the planet below.

Your head is pounding, your body is exhausted, a combination of pain from the earlier struggles with Eldon and being thrown about the ship starting to weigh down on you despite the adrenaline rushing through you. The Mandalorian’s shot was only meant to disable the ship and force Eldon to land–logically you know that, but that doesn’t stop the fear that's built its way into your heart as Eldon continues to struggle with the controls.

It especially doesn’t help when the second you break into the atmosphere, the ship gets thrown off kilter when the Rancor–Dras–begins to rampage down below. It’s bellows rumble in your very chest, and things seem to go from bad to worse when it doesn’t settle after one or two sways.

“Eldon! You better get that thing under control or it’s gonna take the whole damn ship down!” You bark at him while he tries to straighten the ship back out.

“Just ignore him, it’s going to be fine–” He begins to shout back at you, but as if the maker itself wanted to prove him wrong, before he can even finish getting the words out, the ship lunges again more forcefully this time, followed by the horrible sound of metal tearing.

“Eldon!” You shout again, out of desperation this time. He needed to do something–anything or you were going to crash. Instead, he ignores you.

And what a price he pays for doing so. The tearing sound stops for only just a moment, a false sense of hope before the Rancor tears through the side of the ship with such brutalizing force, the ship gets sent into a barrel roll as it plummets towards the surface.

Debris from the ship fly past the viewport, and wind rushes through the cockpit creating a vacuum before the emergency secondary airlock kicks in. Cockpit lights flicker before they shut off altogether, only the flashes from alarms lighting the space in frantic intervals when you feel your bound grip begin to fail you. You lose track of which way is up or down.

Your heart stops when your hands slip and you lose what little grip you still had and you let out a gut wrenching scream–

And then there was nothing.

You weren’t in pain, you weren’t cold, or dizzy, or sore. Although you couldn't see anything, the darkness didn’t register as black. It was simply nothing. To say you were floating in a void would be an understatement.

It takes you a minute to realize your eyes are closed. It takes a minute more to remember to open them and when you finally do, you have to blink a few more times for your sight to kick back in. Hazy vague blurs of light and dark finally morphing into something comprehensible.

You’re outside, standing in front of several pieces of scrap and metal propped up in a varying array of distances. The longer you stare the more familiar it seems to you. It looks like someone's makeshift shooting range–no wait. That's right. This is your makeshift shooting range. You had set it up behind your family’s hangar years ago.

You quickly spin around when you hear something behind you. A large, yet familiar figure leans casually in the entranceway. You squint, fighting through the haze you can’t quite seem to shake.

“Ko’van?” You finally question, not moving from your place.

“Hey.” He replies quietly, almost shy, but you can tell in his voice he’s trying to play it cool, “Getting some practice in?” Your brow furrows in confusion, “What? Practice? I…,” You trail off as you glance down at the blaster in your hand. Of course, you came out to practice your aim. You had almost completely forgotten what you were doing out here in the middle of the night. What a weird thing to forget…

“Looks like your aim is getting better. Did that adjustment we made to your sight help?”

You’re still spacing out, staring at the blaster in your hand so you don’t even realize he’s speaking until he calls your name to get your attention.

“Huh?” You finally meet your gaze to his visor and he nods out to your sad excuses for targets, “Oh! Yeah, yeah I guess it did…” You take quick note of the fresh scorch marks in the metal, not quite dead center, but close. His light chuckle from behind you pulls your attention.

“You feelin’ alright?” He pushes off the entryway and makes his way to you, “Sounds like you could use a break.” He stops right in front of you, mere inches away, and gently takes the blaster from your grasp.

You hum in agreement as he puts his free hand on your waist while he carefully holsters your blaster back in your belt, “Yeah, a break sounds nice.” You sigh, a smile filling your features at his touch. Stars, when did you become so tired?

He lets out another breathy chuckle and pulls you in closer, “Good. I missed you…” He quietly confesses, like it’s some kind of deep, dark, dangerous secret and it makes you giddy like a child with a crush for the first time.

“Missed you too.” You breathe out slowly.

And Maker, you meant it. You don’t really remember how long he’s been gone this time, but it feels like it’s been eternity since you’ve been close to him like this. You wrap your arms around him and rest your head against his chestplate with a deep breath, “Missed you so much.”

“Sorry I was gone for so long this time…” He nearly whispers in regret and it breaks your heart. How could you possibly explain, how could you ever convey to him that you could never in a million years be mad at him for being gone, so long as he will always come back to you just like this.

He lifts a hand to brush some hair away from your face, tuck it behind your ear. Usually your heart would be fluttering at the touch, such a comforting and sweet gesture. But when his touch brushes against your skin…something about it is wrong.

You gently catch his wrist in your grasp, and pull away from him just enough so you can look down at his hand. His glove was dirty–covered in soot and ash, and the leather was worn, scuffed, like it was about to come apart at the seams–

And there was blood. So much blood.

Your heart rate quickens as your gaze follows the length of his arm up to his chest piece. Your eyes widen in horror. How had you not noticed earlier? The paint was scratched and it was covered in scorch marks, dirtied and bloody to match his glove.

“K-ko’van…” You stammer out in terror and confusion. There was so much blood. How is there so much blood?

“I’m sorry…” He chokes out, but his voice is different now. Clipped and strained.

You shoot your head up to meet his tinted stare in concern, but your concern only grows when you see the state of him. His helmet was the worst of all. Blood streaked across the front, ash caked in the edges and a crack in the corner of his visor glistened with the reflection of a blinking red light.

“I’m so sorry…” He repeats, tight and groggy in his throat like he’s exhausted, like he’s in pain–

Like he’s dying.

“Ko’van!” You feel like your heart is in your throat, panic flooding your veins. You desperately tighten your grip on his wrist and he tangles his free hand in your hair, tightly pulling your forehead against his as tears begin to burn their way down your cheeks. He takes a sharp, pained, inhale.

“Ner laar sennar…my beautiful bird…” He begins to mutter through choked gasps, lifting the hand you grip so tightly to weakly cup your cheek, “...I-I…I love you…forever–forever i’ll love you…”

But you don’t even get a chance to say it back.

A heartbroken scream tears through your throat as an unknown force yanks you out of his grasp, and into darkness. Into ash, into fire, into smoke.

You shoot awake with a gasp, immediately choking violently on the soot in your lungs. You lay face down on the ash covered ground in the middle of the wreckage. It was just a nightmare…you survived. You’re not sure how, but you survived. Surrounded by smoldering debris and what remains of the ship after impact you do a quick once over. Surprisingly there's no major damage. All your limbs are still attached, but you’ve lost most of the feeling in your right arm and can’t move it.

You roll onto your left side to relieve some of the pressure on your somehow still bound wrists when you notice a familiar glint of metal under some wreckage in front of you. Straightening your spine to get a better look, all the air rushes out of your lungs when you recognize it. Your helmet.

Unable to get to your feet, you flip back on to your belly and drag yourself forward with your good arm, desperately trying to reach it. What are the chances it ends up right in front of you? How is it even possible? Eldon had taken it from you before you even found the cockpit, and you didn’t see it when he returned. Maybe it was a gift from the stars, a gift from the maker? Who knows, and frankly you don’t care.

You continue to struggle to heave yourself closer and closer, a growing nonsensical desperation to get to it as quickly as possible, or you may never see it again. You get just close enough, you swear you could reach it if you just stretched a little further–when a boot comes slamming down to crush your hands and you let out a pained cry from your aching throat.

“You’ll just never stop being a pain in my ass, will you?” Eldon growls as he grinds your hands beneath his boot with an excruciating force and with each painful twist you let out another cry. He looked much worse than you did. His face was half burned and he was keeping all his weight on the foot crushing your hand while the other stayed limp, there was clearly something wrong with it.

Seeming satisfied with your pain after a few moments he activates the commlink in his hand, “Yanu, come in. I ran into a bit of trouble. I need your help.” But when there's no response he grows frustrated,“Yanu! I know you hear me! Come in!”

Silence.

He lets out a bitter growl and in his fury, forcefully throws the commlink to the ground. He doesn’t waste a single moment pulling out his blaster, and you flinch when he fires once–twice–three times. Bits of metal and plastoid from the device bursting into the air where it once sat just moments ago. Any ounce of reason and control had completely vanished from his eyes. He was blank. Lost in his anger and his hate. Like an animal who had been caged too long, unpredictable and dangerous.

A chill runs down the back of your neck when his blank and broken gaze shifts from the remains of the comm to you. It's nearly haunting how silent he is when his body shifts to fully face you, finger still on the trigger. A man once so snarky and teasing, hardly able to keep his mouth shut, not even uttering a single word as he lifts his blaster to your level.

Staring down the barrel you surprise yourself with how scared you actually are. You can feel the fear seeping its way into your bones. As many times as you hadn’t cared whether you lived or died–how many times you had wished you actually would die to be reunited with your husband–for the first time in a long time, you feared death.

You quickly glance to your helmet just beyond your grasp, just past Eldon’s boots. You stare at the ash dusting the visor, the soot buried in the crevices, the fresh scratches in the paint. Do you plead? Pray? That Ko’van could save you? That you would be spared? That Eldon would show you mercy? The maker, perhaps? Or maybe the stars themselves? What a coward you are, you realize finally when you hear the click of the blaster. Maybe Eldon was right. Maybe this is all you amount to–maybe this is all you are without your husband by your side.

A coward.

BANG

You gasp when the shot rings out, flinch and squeeze your eyes shut, try to cower away from it like that will save you–

But they shoot back open when there’s a thump beside you, and the pressure on your hand relents. You gaze back up with wide eyes–not down the barrel of a blaster, but to the blackened visor of the Mandalorian lowering his. He says nothing as he kicks Eldon’s lifeless body beside you onto his back, nudging him with his boot to confirm his death.

You’re speechless. You watch the exchange like a breathless fool. Too caught up in your near death experience and the harsh realization of your newfound fear of mortality swirling in your chest to form a coherent thought–let alone a sentence. It takes you a few more moments to realize what's just happened, that the Mandalorian has once again just saved you, and that Eldon is dead. He must think you're a coward too. He must have seen how you reacted, must have seen the way you winced at the shot, how even now, after you’re safe, you tremble in the aftermath.

After he’s seemingly satisfied with the confirmation of Eldon’s death, he shifts his gaze to you. Only, instead of ridiculing you, shaming you for your cowardice, mocking your inability to fend for yourself, cringe at your weak spirit like you had feared he would, he reaches out, and offers you a hand.

“Are you okay?” He asks, while you stare shocked at the gesture, “Can you stand?” And maybe it's your delirium from all that's happened, but you swear his voice is laced with genuine concern–shaky and taught like the Mandalorian himself was coming down from fear.

Shakily you take his hand with your good one and attempt to pull yourself to your feet with his help, but your legs are too weak, and with the lack of support from your injured arm, you stumble. In an instant he catches you by the waist and slowly helps raise you upright, pulling you close so you can lean your weight on him.

“How badly are you hurt?” He questions, as he continues to hold you close and firm, despite you standing on your own feet now.

“I..I–uh–” You shake your head slightly, struggling to gather your words, “I-I’m fine. Could have been much worse…” You trail off as you take a moment to regard what remains of the crash around you.

He hums in agreement, “Glad I found you when I did.” He loosens his grasp and drags his hands down to the bindings on your wrists.

“Me too.” You sigh in relief when the bindings clatter to the ground after he hits the release. You roll your wrist a couple times, then immediately reach up to cradle the shoulder of your hurt arm with a wince.

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

“Hurt it during the crash. I can’t move it all that well and it’s a bit numb.”

“Sounds like it's dislocated.” He moves to touch it, but halts, hovering just close enough you can almost feel the heat from his glove on your arm, “I need to set it back in place, but it’s going to hurt.”

“I trust you.”

His visor snaps from your shoulder to your face at your response. He seems almost surprised as he considers you for a moment before giving you a silent nod.

It was true, you did trust him, after all of this how could you not? But no amount of warning could have possibly prepared you for the searing pain that would shoot through you when he popped your shoulder back into place. It was instant, but only lasted a few seconds before relief set in and the pain subdued into a dull ache. You give it a couple experimental rolls, squeezing your eyes shut and taking a couple breaths to distract yourself from the pressure.

“Also–,” He starts, “This belongs to you…,” When you open your eyes, he’s holding your helmet out to you, cradled with care in both his hands. It feels like eons since you’ve seen it last, with all of the new scratches it seems like it’s been hundreds of years, and your heart aches because of it.

Gently you reach out and place your hands on it, grasping it, but not taking it, and he doesn’t let go. What he said echoes in your mind as you both hold the metal together.

“This belongs to you.”

You look up and lock eyes with his visor, only to find it was already locked on you. You have no way of truly knowing, but you’re almost certain you were looking directly into his eyes. It was almost as if you could feel it in your soul. Feel it settle softly in your chest with the rise and fall of your breath matching his. Just the two of you, surrounded by destruction, beat up, tired, and drained, connected only by the weight of a worn helmet in each other's hands.

“Thank you.” Is all you quietly offer, after far too many moments have passed. A single, slow nod is all he offers back, before he finally lets go and you fully take the helmet in your grasp. Turning it up and wiping the visor best you can, before slowly lifting it and setting it back in its rightful place on your head.

It feels like home when your visor comes to life. A warm and special comfort that immediately eases you. You give the side of it a couple gentle taps. The image keeps flickering and tearing. Not enough to make it unwearable, but enough to make it annoying.

“Some of the hardware must have gotten damaged in the crash…” You mutter while flicking through a couple different settings trying to troubleshoot the issue.

“If you're alright with it…,” the Mandalorian hesitates for a second, “I could take a look at it when we get back to the ship.”

You stop fiddling with the helmet and turn your attention back to him. It feels so…so sweet that he would offer. It nearly feels out of character for him. Then again, maybe it's your own insecurity that’s telling you you should suck it up and deal with it. Even still…it’s a kind offer.

“I would like that.” You finally offer with a nod. It's only when he gives your arm a light squeeze in return do you even notice he’s still holding onto you. It was the same gesture of comfort you once gave him, that he at the time mimicked with uncertainty, but now? Now it was natural, genuine, as if the gesture was not only meant to comfort you but comfort himself in return. You smile shyly under your helmet.

“Let’s not waste anymore time, we need to get back to the ship quickly before Yanu finds us. Are you okay to walk?” He moves to give you room without letting his hand fall from its place on your arm. You give him a nod and take an experimental step forward. Your legs still feel weak, and you were definitely more hurt than you care to let on, but you can't help the slight limp that follows.

He continues to support you as he leads you in the direction of his ship and away from the wreckage. You hold onto his pauldron to help steady yourself, and he adjusts his hold to your waist to accommodate you. He’s so careful, considerate even as he leads you into the lush fauna. He treats you with the same care and softness he does with the child, you realize. You must truly be a fool, you think to yourself, to think even for a second the Mandalorian would care about you that much. He’s only acting like this because he pities you.

Only…you can’t help but think back to how his voice nearly shook when he picked you up off the ground earlier. As he holds some twisted branches out of the way for you to pass your mind continues to wonder. Is it possible, somehow, someway, that the Mandalorian was just as afraid as you were in that moment? With Eldon’s blaster pointed right between your eyes? Is it possible that you both were afraid of you dying? That he was afraid to lose you?

You barely realized you stopped walking for just a moment as you pondered the possibility.

“You alright?” He questions, probably thinking you stopped because you were in pain.

“Yeah.” You nod, “Sorry.” You shake your head to clear your thoughts and you keep moving forward.

You were a fool.

*** Previous - MASTER - Next (Coming soon!!)

Taglist: @bookloverfilmoholic, @mysun-n-stars , @notagamersdey (let me know if you would like to be added/removed!)

#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din x reader #din x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #mando x reader #reader instert #the mandalorian fanfic #fanfic #din djarin

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brokenbeskar · 2 years

Text

haha nice.

#update coming soon i promise #ily all <3

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brokenbeskar · 3 years

Photo

“I—I miss him…”

“I know.”

little sketch from the latest chapter of Memories Reforged I’m such a sucker for angst bro

#MR Fic #memories reforged #memories reforged fanfic #oh look its my art #if yall wanna see more just lemme know #i never know if i should post my doodles or not #i dont want to ruin how anyone else imagines themselves in the story #if that makes sense?#MR art #< that will be the tag to blacklist if you dont wanna see my art ig #spoiler #maybe?#havoc draws

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brokenbeskar · 3 years

Text

Anger

Chapter Eight of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 11.8k

Summary: Needing to lay low for awhile, you end up in the one place in the galaxy you’ve been avoiding the most

Warnings: Mentions of death, nightmares, blood, lots of flashbacks, a minor allusion to sex (nothing explicit, just a post-spice flashback)

A/N: this one is very ANGSTY so be prepared! I wasn’t expecting this chapter to be so long, but it’s one of the chapters I’ve been planning since before I even started writing this fic so I was very excited for it! Hopefully you all love it as much as I do, I really poured my heart into this one <3 (also i know the gif may seem a little out of place but just trust me on it)

It’s been a few days in hyperspace since you rescued each other. The bacta has worked its magic and the both of you are almost back to normal after some much needed rest, taking turns watching the child and keeping him company.

“So, what’s the plan?” You finally ask now that the three of you sit in the cockpit together, the child idly chewing on one of the arms on his stuffed frog you got him last you were on Nevarro.

“Well…” The Mandalorian starts, tapping the navcomp to pull up the star map, “I think it’s safe for us to assume the Hutts are after us, so we should keep a low profile. Our last known location was here on Cantonica, so our best bet would be to continue this hyperspace route all the way to Naboo.” He slowly hovers his finger over the designated route while he explains.

“No!” You shout it accidentally. You didn’t even have a chance to stop it from shooting out of your mouth before you could think to. The mere mention of your next stop sent ice through your veins. He looks in your direction and slowly tilts his head in suspicion at your sudden outburst.

“No?”

“I just—look Naboo is a bad idea.” You spit out, pointedly avoiding his gaze as you feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. Way to keep it cool, dumbass…

“Why’s it a bad idea?” He questions, and you can feel the heat of his gaze still on you, as if he’s dissecting your every breath and it’s making you uneasy.

“Naboo’s a tourist planet. It’s always swarming with people, not a great place to be hiding out.” You try to argue.

“That's why it's perfect. Naboo is safe. It’s big enough that we can resupply and possibly get information, but it won’t draw any attention to us.” He reasons, and he has a point, but you cannot stop on Naboo. Absolutely not.

“You think Naboo being a safe planet is going to stop Hutt hired bounty hunters? Since when have bounty hunters cared about making a scene?” You snap, finally turning to meet his voided stare, but you immediately regret it.

He doesn’t say anything at first, just stares at you with that stupid tilt to his helmet. It’s not until you open your mouth to scold him for it that he cuts you off.

“Did something happen to you on Naboo?”

“Wh—no! Are—are you even listening to me?” It’s almost cringeworthy hearing how your own words spill out of your mouth. You're obvious even to your own ears, and you can feel the heat rising to your face with how flustered you're getting under his judgemental stare.

“I heard you.” He acknowledges, “But that's not why you don’t want to go.”

“What do you know?” You hiss. You realize you're being childish, you really do. And at this point you desperately wish you had just kept your mouth shut, but there's no going back now.

“I don’t know anything.” He replies casually, turning his attention back to the navcomp. “And I won’t pry, but when you’re ready to, you should tell me.”

You don’t say anything else, just watch as he sets the coordinates and flips a couple switches to set course for Naboo.

And you dread every second of it.

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***

“What planet is this?! It’s beautiful!” You gasp out as you stare out the ship's transparisteel while he expertly flies over large stretches of rolling grasslands and crystal waters. It looked like something straight out of a dream.

“This is Naboo. Just wait ‘till we land, it’s more beautiful on the ground.”

Excitement courses through your veins at the thought alone. You had read about Naboo before, you knew it was a popular vacation spot known for its beautiful scenery and architecture. Never in your life did you think you would ever have the opportunity to actually see it in person.

You can barely contain yourself, the second you feel the ship touch the ground, you’re already leaping to your feet and running out of the cockpit. You hear him call out after you, ask you to slow down a minute, but you can’t. You have to see this. You practically slam the ship's release button and don’t even wait for the ramp to lower fully before you're rushing to jump out.

Your feet hit the ground, and the cool, sweet air of this planet steals the air from your lungs.

It’s stunning.

The grass is so green—a particular shade of green you aren’t sure you’ve ever experienced before—and it's so long! it reaches past your knees and rolls in the breeze as if it were flowing water. You immediately bend down to run your hands through it and skim across the tops of it. Watching how the long blades bend and sway with your touch, feeling how it tickles across your skin. It’s mesmerizing. You can hear him chuckle from behind you, where he’s observing your antics from atop the ramp of the ship, but you can’t bear to pull your gaze away from the scenery in front of you.

You’re not sure why your instinct is to lay in it—it’s just something about how it moves, it looks so soft and perfect. You once again find yourself unable to resist temptation as you take a few steps forward and end up plopping down into it. You roll onto your back and take a deep breath as you stare up into the most beautiful blue sky you’ve ever seen, the edges of the grass tickling your face as they flow and bend over you. You’re so entirely lost in the beauty of it all you don’t even realize he's made his way down to you.

“Enjoying yourself?” He asks, leaning over your view from where he stands above you.

“Come here and find out!” You reach your hands out to him.

He gently takes one of your hands in his, foolishly thinking you're going to help him down gently, but you catch him off guard when you firmly grasp his wrist with your free hand and use both to yank him down to the ground with you, causing him to come tumbling down and collide roughly with it with an oof.

You can’t help but laugh, and you find you can’t stop laughing when you look over to see his visor pointed at you with an incriminating glare.

“You think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” He grunts out as he rolls onto his back next to you.

“Oh, I know I’m hilarious.” You tease back as you shuffle your way closer to him, fitting yourself in that perfect little spot on his side that feels like it was made just for you, and he shifts to accommodate you. Running his fingers idly along your arm as you both gaze up to the clouds floating above. It couldn’t be more perfect.

Except...maybe it’s too perfect.

You find the longer the two of you enjoy this all too perfect moment, your suspicion grows until you can’t keep it to yourself anymore.

“This isn’t the planet I picked, is it?”

His movements on your arm halt completely, and the growing silence that follows is enough to confirm your suspicions.

“It’s not.” He finally confesses after far too long, “The planet you pointed to was an uninhabited desert planet, I couldn’t let that be your first one.”

“So you picked Naboo?” You can’t help the laugh that bubbles back up, “Isn’t that a little cheesy?”

He chuckles lightly in response, and the rumble of it next to you is nothing short of music to your ears. “What's wrong with cheesy?”

“Nothing.” You nestle yourself even closer to him, the widest possible grin filling your face to the point that your cheeks start to feel sore, “Nothing at all.”

And the two of you continued to lay like that for hours. Laying in the grass watching the sky. Nothing else in the galaxy mattered then, only the two of you, sharing a view, feeling the rise and fall of each other’s breathing as the clouds pass you by.

***

You remember thinking in the moment that you could have stayed like that forever, that you never wanted it to end.

But all things come to an end.

And as the ship descends closer to the familiar lush planet in front of you, the reminder only sours in your stomach.

You hate Naboo.

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You landed a while ago, but you haven’t budged from your spot in the cockpit. You sit with your knees pulled up and your arms crossed, bitterly staring out at the sickeningly familiar stretch of grassland the Mandalorian decided to land in, while he was in the ship's hull preparing to set out for the day.

You’re all too hopeful he will simply forget about you and leave you be, until you hear his unmistakable footsteps climbing the ladder to the cockpit.

“Are you ready to go?” His modulated voice calls out from behind you.

“I’m staying on the ship.” You politely inform him, not moving your gaze from out the cockpit’s transparisteel.

“You’re staying on the ship.” He repeats back slowly, in an almost sarcastic manner.

“Yes. Just in case.” You nod slightly despite not facing him.

“Just in case?”

“Yeah, just in case something happens, y’know?” He lets out a loud sigh, “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothings going on!” You whip around to face him, angry he won’t just drop the whole thing entirely and leave you alone to babysit the ship in peace.

“Then you have no reason to stay. Let's go.” Then he leaves before you even get the chance to argue, leaving you alone in the cockpit to simmer.

You don't move. Just glare at where he was standing just a moment ago angrily. There was no winning here. You’re either forced to go along with them, or stay on the ship and admit something is bothering you.

Guess you don’t have a choice.

You huff angrily as you get up from your seat and snatch your helmet off the dashboard, bitterly plopping it onto your head as you jump down the ladder and storm your way across the hull to where he’s waiting for you at the opening of the ship, the kid tucked away in the bag at his side.

It’s times like these you’re almost thankful for the Mandalorian’s tendency to be silent. The second you step off that ramp and onto the tall grass behind him, you feel your heart sink to your feet and your gut wrench in the worst way. There's no way you could possibly hold up a conversation like this. You already know that if you tried, your voice would waiver and probably snap, and with it so would you.

But at the same time, the silence is killing you.

Every step you take through the grass is more painful than the last, and being alone with your thoughts is just as dangerous as the prospect of conversation. The three of you were going to have to walk pretty far, and the more time goes on without so much as a word uttered between you, the more you find your mind drifting to memories of a past long gone...

***

“Why did you bring us back to Naboo?” You finally decide to ask.

The two of you were sitting under a large tree together, his arm around your shoulder as you lean against him, idly picking at a blade of grass like you were dissecting it.

He gives you a light hum in response while he thinks, “I figured we could use a break. It’s been awhile since we just took some time to relax.”

“But why here? Why not somewhere new?” You weren’t complaining by any means, but you couldn’t help but be curious. It seemed unlike him to go to the same planet twice unless it was for a job.

He shrugs, “I don’t know. I can't really explain why, but…it just felt right.”

And you knew exactly what he meant. Naboo felt special to you. By now you had been on probably a dozen other planets. Plenty of which were beautiful in their own way, and you enjoyed every one of them, but even still...Naboo was different.

Maybe it’s because it was the first planet you had been on other than your home planet, maybe it was something about the scenery of it, or maybe it was simply the memory of the last time you two had spent here, nothing more than sentimentals. Regardless, somehow it stood out in your mind as more remarkable and outstanding than the rest, and you were happy to be back.

“Maybe...,” He starts, pulling you from your own thoughts, “Maybe we could do this every once in a while. Just come back and spend some time together. No jobs, no bounties, just us—together. Whenever we feel like we need it.”

You already feel your heart thumping in your chest at the prospect, and a smile begins to spread across your face. The idea that he would put bounty hunting on hold just to spend time with you and that Naboo would become a regular stop for you both makes your heart gush.

You don’t even realize you haven't responded until he turns his head to look at you, and gently takes your hand holding the single, torn up blade of grass in his.

“Would you like that?” He asks gently, with a slight tilt of his helmet.

“I would love nothing more...It sounds perfect.” You finally manage to answer while giving his hand a firm squeeze.

“Good!” And before you know it he's wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you fully into his lap, your back pressing uncomfortably into his armor. Not that you even have a chance to say anything, because just as quickly he's turning you both around so you’re now facing the tree instead of leaning against it.

“Then this…” He rests the edge of his helmet on your shoulder as he pulls out a blade and begins carving into the bark of the tree, his free arm still wrapped tight against your waist, “...will be our promise to come back.” You watch as he scratches away at the bark, digging lines into it like he was creating a masterpiece.

You wait for the lines to come together to create something you can make out, but before it happens he puts his blade away and wipes away the scraps of wood still sticking to it.

“What...what is it?” You’re afraid to ask, you don’t want to offend him, but the odd blob of scratches in front of you aren’t becoming any clearer the longer you stare at it.

He lifts his head from your shoulder, “What do you mean? Can’t you tell?” But your silence in response tells him all he needs to know.

“Well, it’s supposed to be a bird. For you, ner kih laar sennar.” He says sweely, resting his helmet back on your shoulder and wrapping his other arm around you, pulling you in as tight as he can.

Never in your life have you felt more at home. You could almost cry with how sweet the sentiment is. You trace over the mess of scratches, feeling the texture beneath your fingers, and sure enough you find it. Through the chaos of his carving you find a wing, which leads back to the body, which you trace to the end of what you suppose is the beak.

“I hope we come back soon.” You sigh, tilting your head to rest against his, your hands moving down to join his own on your waist.

***

And you did. As cheesy as it was, Naboo became a regular part of you and your late husband’s life together. Your most frequently visited planet besides Carajam to visit your guild outpost. You held so many memories here, Naboo had become so much more than just another planet, a tourist spot. It was your planet. Your spot. Your special place where nothing else mattered besides each other. Your one spot in the galaxy where you felt the most at peace.

And you swore you would never come back.

You pretended the planet died with him. Leaving the scenery with the memory of him, never to be seen again without him next to you.

And up until today, you’ve been pretty successful in avoiding it. You refused to take any jobs that were so much as in the same sector. Not that it mattered. Here you were, watching the tall grass you once loved so much fold and crush beneath your boots as you walk with a stranger. The air that once smelled so sweet—unmatched by any other, now feels suffocating, drowning you with each breath you take.

What a sick, twisted joke the Maker was playing on you.

You couldn’t even find reprieve in distracting yourself with the child, he had fallen asleep at some point during your walk and you just couldn’t bring yourself to disturb his peaceful slumber for your own selfish reasons. Even though, if you were being honest, you really, really wanted to.

Everything you once loved so much felt like torture to you now. The sun which once gently warmed your skin like the first kiss of light after a long winter's cold, now felt more harsh and blistering than the twin suns of Tatooine. The smell of water in the air that once felt so refreshing, now feels muggy and oppressive. The colors of the grasslands that used to never fail to make you feel like you were experiencing beauty for the first time, now felt blinding and loud. And the gentle tickle of the surrounding fauna now filled you to the brim with annoyance.

And you’re annoyed you have to walk so far.

You know why, obviously it made sense to land somewhere secluded and hike to the nearest city, you were trying to lay low after all. But stars above, you were sick of it. You hated every second of it. You wish you had stayed on the ship. So what if it meant admitting something was wrong? Clearly something is wrong, the Mandalorian already knows something is wrong, he’s said as much. What were you trying to prove exactly? You’re pissed at yourself, but you're just as pissed at him. So what if you're upset? It’s none of his business, you don’t have to explain anything to him...not that he forced you to come, and he’s definitely not forcing you to talk about it, but you’re pissed nonetheless.

Things only get worse when you make it into the city. You thought maybe the energy of it all would serve as some sort of distraction, but it was proving quite the opposite. Everything reminded you of him and—even worse—everything reminded you he wasn’t here, walking alongside you anymore.

The architecture of Naboo was entirely unique. Built from a culture that values art and creativity to all capacities, so it's no wonder it was stunning in every way. Though...it doesn’t really look the same as you remember it. Something about the helmet’s display paints it all wrong. Even without any filters on, it’s just not the same as seeing it with naked eyes. The thought sends another horrible pang through your chest. Was this how he was seeing it the whole time?

“Hey—”

You can’t even really describe what about it is different. Maybe the colors are slightly muted, maybe the shapes were slightly distorted after running through the helmet’s image processor, maybe the light was being auto adjusted through the photon deflector, maybe—

“Hey!” His shout makes you suddenly realize he's standing quite a ways in front of you trying to get your attention. How long ago did you stop walking?

His tone drops significantly to something much more gentle, “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Your response is dry, curt, and reads as anything other than ‘fine’, and he makes it clear he’s not buying it with the way he stares you down while you resume walking until you catch up with where he's standing.

But he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t pester you like you think he’s going to. He just continues walking with you in silence. You figure he probably knows you want the space, knows you don’t want to be bothered, knows you would rather be anywhere else but here. So give you space he does. Only once does he even acknowledge you, and it’s to wordlessly hand you the child when he finally wakes.

And thank the maker he does. You happily take the child from him and squeeze him to your chest for a very one sided hug of sorts. That small ounce of relief you had been waiting for all afternoon was finally here. As much of a menace he was, the child was the perfect distraction for you. His babbling and fussing kept you just busy enough that you didn’t have time to let your thoughts wander.

Unfortunately, the Naboo sun sets faster than you had hoped. The three of you spent the majority of the day traveling to the city, so you didn’t even have enough time to find a shop to properly restock your munitions before they started to close for the evening. It doesn’t take long for you to realize going back to the ship isn’t an option, which meant that the three of you were going to have to find lodging here in the city.

Which meant you were going to be in Naboo a lot longer than you had hoped for.

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You can’t sleep.

You lie awake staring up at the all too familiar ceiling above you.

You can’t remember if you’ve stayed in this exact inn before, you don’t think so, but the familiarity of the layout haunts you. The design of it was too similar to the rest. Nothing about it was unique enough to keep you grounded, and it only fed into your misery.

It was one of the few that had two bedrooms available for a same night stay. You practically threw the credits down on the counter without giving it a second thought when the receptionist confirmed the vacancy. If you’re being honest you don’t even remember how much it cost. Probably too much.

Like the rest of today, the Mandalorian didn’t question it. In fact, he barely said anything at all. Only told you to come get him if you needed anything. He even let you take the child with you without argument. You didn’t really want to be alone, but you didn’t exactly want company either.

So, here you were. Lying on your back, your eyes burning with a need for sleep, and the child tucked away in a little bundle of blankets next to you, sleeping away without worry. A perfect compromise.

Anytime you actually manage to doze off, you’re plagued with nightmares.

Nightmares filled with fire.

Nightmares filled with smoke.

Nightmares filled with you desperately searching through the rubble, screaming out for him.

But those you were used to.

The worst were the ones that started out as beautifully bittersweet memories—

The both of you back in the endless grasslands, the sound of his voice, his fingers through your hair, his embrace, his lips on yours...

Only to have them twist and contort and combine with your darkest day. A grotesque mutation conjured up from all of the feelings that you’ve been desperately pushing down all day.

The beautiful landscape quickly being swallowed up in a red haze, his touch leaving blood on your skin, his kiss turning to ash in your mouth, lakes and waterfalls turning black, and the gentle waves of grass turning into a roaring, all consuming fire.

Each time you gasp awake, it takes you a minute to regain your senses and each time you’re just thankful you don’t wake the child.

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The next morning you dont waste any time. Having given up on sleep halfway through the night, you were already dressed and armored up before the sun had even begun to peek over the horizon. You wait patiently, seated on the bed with your helmet in your lap as you trace the various edges of it, some kind of self soothing—or something. Anything to try and forget the images your nightmares left burned in your mind.

The second light begins to pour in through the curtains though, you’re waking the kid up and getting him ready for the day despite his obvious displeasure. You unbundle him from the little nest you made him last night and adjust his mess of brown robes, but when he sleepily snuggles as far as he can into the nook of your arm, you can't resist pulling him close to your chest and placing a light kiss to the crown of his fuzzy little head. A gesture that works to soothe the both of you.

After you finish getting the both of you ready, you feel lucky when you find the Mandalorian is already waiting for you at the checkout. You wonder if he had trouble sleeping too. Maybe he had his own nightmares to suffer through.

“Ready to go?” He asks, after you softly hand him the child to tuck away in his little bag.

“Yeah.” You give him a light nod.

And the three of you were off once more. The early morning city streets were quiet compared to the busyness in the afternoon. Something you were thankful for with how garbage you were feeling from your lack of sleep. It also meant that navigating shops was that much easier, giving you hope you could head back to the ship by the end of the day and spend your remaining days on Naboo there before you would hop to a new planet to stay on for a while.

And maybe, in some odd twist of fate, you were thankful for your lack of sleep last night. Your headache was proving quite an effective distraction from everything bothering you. In fact, you could have almost forgotten you were on Naboo entirely.

It wasn't until later—after the three of you had already stocked up on everything you needed, when the kid started to get fussy because he was hungry, that things started to take a turn. By now things in the city were starting to liven up a bit, you were walking down the main road trying to find the kid a snack when you’re practically punched through your helmet’s filtration system with a familiar smell.

It cuts through everything else. It’s that type of smell that hits you so strongly you’re—all at once—flooded with memories of the last time you smelled it. The strongest type of nostalgia you can imagine.

It doesn’t take you too long to find it either. It’s just a few shops down you find it, a florist setting up their outdoor display. The Mandalorian doesn't notice you wander off, he’s too busy trying to quiet the kid down while he’s fishing out credits to pay for some food, and you didn’t bother to let him know you were leaving.

The closer you get, the stronger the scent is. The ambrosial smell was unmistakable, and powerful. Not enough to make your headache any worse, or make you feel nauseous, but still strong enough to make you almost forget you were wearing a helmet at all.

It’s when you finally catch sight of the vibrant red and blue flowers all bundled up and decorated in various pots and bouquets that you can actually recall the familiarity of them.

***

“It’s a Millaflower.” He explains, plucking one from the ground and handing it to you, “They’re known for their beautiful smell and calming effects. They’re very popular.”

You don’t even have to bring it up to your nose to understand why. You’ve never smelled anything like it, it was absolutely captivating. You run your fingers over the soft petals, the most brilliant shade of red you think you’ve ever seen.

“It’s said that being gifted one is a great honor.” He continues, gently taking the flower from you and tucking it behind your ear, dragging his fingers down the side of your cheek until he's gently cupping your jaw.

“Well I definitely feel honored.” You chuckle shyly, leaning into his touch, “Not that I needed the flower for that.”

“No?” He tilts his helmet at you curiously.

“Having the opportunity to travel with you—being with you everyday...that feels like more of an honor than anything else.” You nearly whisper your confession, turning your head just enough to place a soft kiss to his hand.

He doesn’t say anything, and you’re almost worried you said something you shouldn’t have when he lets out a heavy exhale.

“You…” He reaches up to cup the other side of your face with his free hand, “You never cease to take my breath away...you know that?”

You can’t help the smile that floods your face at his words.

“You are the most captivating creature in this entire galaxy.” He continues, rambling on like he can’t help himself, “I can’t get enough of you—you’re just so…”

There's a long stretch of silence, nothing but the wind that gently blows past you, and with every second of him just...holding you like this...staring at you like this...you swear your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

And then one of his hands hesitantly leaves your face, only taking a second to rip his helmet off, before his hands are back on you, pulling you in as close as he possibly can, and leaning in so his lips are grazing yours.

But he doesn’t kiss you.

He just holds you there, breathing you in while you burn with anticipation.

“Perfect.” He whispers against your lips, “You’re just so perfect…”

Then he slowly, and gently, fully presses his lips into yours until it steals your breath away.

And it’s perfect.

Like his lips were molded by the Maker to fit perfectly into yours.

Like the stars had aligned themselves just so the two of you could exist in this moment.

And you savor every second of it. Savor being surrounded by him, engulfed in him, with the sweet fragrance of the Millaflower filling the air around you.

You hadn’t even realized the flower had fallen out of your hair until the two of you were already back on the ship and making the jump to hyperspace. You were devastated, you wanted to keep it, dry it out and add it to your growing collection of things he had given you.

“It’s okay,” He tried to reassure you, “We’ll come back soon.”

***

But you never went back.

You feel numb, empty.

You stand there, tears welling up in your eyes behind your helmet while you stand there in the middle of the road like an idiot, just...staring at the wash of color in front of you.

It’s not until you feel a hand on your shoulder that you find you’re finally able to pry your eyes away and meet the darked visor of the Mandalorian.

“You alright?” He asks for what feels like the millionth time, but this time you don’t immediately retort with annoyance.

This time you just stare in silence, you feel yourself just inches away from your breaking point, and for the first time this entire trip—you don’t know that you have the strength to keep it together.

“Ko’van!”

A voice shouts from down the road and you jolt at the sound of your late husband’s name—immediately turning to face the source of the voice as the Mandalorian’s hand falls from your shoulder.

“Ko’van!” The man shouts again as he sprints in your direction, but he slows to a light jog the closer he gets, realizing your height is a little different than he remembers.

“Eldon?” You barely manage to croak out, tilting your head as you try to piece together what exactly is happening right now.

“Yeah! I—” He looks back and forth between you and the Mandalorian, clearly just as confused as you are. He tilts his head and points in the direction of the Mandalorian, “Ko’van?”

“No! No...Ko’van he...” Feeling frustrated trying to explain and recognizing this is your old colleague, you reach up and slowly pull off your helmet, revealing your sad, borderline teary eyes.

You have every intention of explaining, you really do, but when you open your mouth to speak—nothing comes out and you settle on a sad huff of air.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eldon was...an interesting guy. You and Ko’van had helped him out on a few jobs, even helped him get into the guild.

Mostly because you pitied him.

He was desperately in need of help—with everything. From the first job you helped him on, he was nothing short of a mess. It was a surprise to you both that he had made it so long without dying. At first you weren’t sure about him, but Ko’van was a kind man and insisted there was no harm in helping him out for a couple jobs.

Over time, Eldon had become a sort of friend to you both, but after he joined the guild he parted ways because he jokingly claimed he was, “too much of a third wheel.”

You honestly assumed he would have died working alone, but here he was. Sitting right in front of you, rambling away to you and the Mandalorian in the booth of a local restaurant.

You don’t think the Mandalorian is really listening, maybe he was at first but Eldon talks way too much, about nothing at all. Instead he’s focused his attention on scolding the child for playing with his food.

Honestly, you weren’t really listening either. More like—half listening. You were leaning back comfortably in your seat, your helmet resting on the table's edge, a polite smile on your face as you catch every third or maybe fifth word of whatever he’s saying.

It was nice to catch up, but your mind was too distracted to really listen. You were too busy thinking about old times, old adventures, and how it all felt like ages ago—yet like it was just yesterday that you were out adventuring for the fun of it.

It doesn’t help that Eldon has changed so much since you last saw him. It’s nothing obvious, at first glance he’s still the same old Eldon he’s always been, but the longer he goes on, and the more time you spend listening to him, the more he seems completely different.

It’s something in the way he carries himself, you figure. He’s grown up too. No longer some scrawny kid trying to make a living, but he was a man now. A full blown bounty hunter. He’s got this air of confidence about him now that he was lacking before. Like he carries the experience he’s gained on his shoulders, wears his pride on his sleeve, and is ready for anything.

Even if he is rambling just as he would have when you first met him.

“I had heard a rumor that you were working with another Mandalorian, didn’t believe it at first, but well…” He motions between the both of you.

“We ran into each other on Jakku. We were hunting the same quarry, and got offered a joint contract when we went to turn him in.” You explain, “Pure coincidence really.”

Eldon hums in agreement, “Coincidence indeed! Mandalorians are hard to find these days.” He chuckles, but quickly stifles the laughter when he realizes no one else is laughing.

“Well, anyway...I’m glad I ran into you. I’m here on a job I could use your help with—”

“Eldon...I don’t—,” You immediately try to decline the offer. You were on Naboo to lay low, not hunt bounties.

“No! Wait! Just listen! It’s not what you're thinking. I’ve got this contract from some guy on Felucia who breeds Rancor and sells them off as exotic pets—,”

“Rancor?” You cut him off again just to make sure you’re hearing him correctly

“Yeah! Jungle Rancor! Anyway—someone stole one of his best and when I was chasing him down to get it back, he dropped it off here and ran—”

“They dropped...a Jungle Rancor? On Naboo?” You’re in utter disbelief. This was the wildest story you have ever heard, if you didn’t know any better you would say he was making the whole thing up. But this was Eldon. If anyone had managed to find themself in this kind of scenario...it was definitely him.

“Yes! But—basically—my client doesn’t care about the thief, he just wants the Rancor back unharmed. So I need help rounding it up and taking it back to Felucia. The guy is loaded! If I tell him you helped, I have no doubts he’ll happily give you what he’s giving me—which is a lot—by the way.” He smirks and crosses his arms across his chest to emphasize his brag.

You just stare at him, eyebrows raised in disbelief. He wants your help rounding up a Rancor? Alive?

“What do you say? With the three of us it will be easy!”

You look over to the Mandalorian next to you to try and get his input, but he just shrugs in response. You let out a sigh, “Eldon I don't know…” You shake your head.

“Please!” He reaches out and puts his palms down flat in front of you on the table, “For old times sake?” He tilts his head, practically begging you.

And that gets you. You stare down to the helmet resting next to you on the table, the empty void of the visor giving you nothing in return. You take one long inhale.

“Fine.”

Eldon lets out a loud whoop of celebration, throwing his fists in the air to really send the message. It causes you to laugh lightly and shake your head at him.

You’re just doing what Ko’van would have done.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Sorry by the way…,” Eldon stops you with a hand to your shoulder just as you begin to part ways, “About Ko’van. I wanted to check on you as soon as I heard but…”

“It’s okay. Thanks Eldon.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You trust him?” His question startles you slightly. It’s the first thing you’ve heard the Mandalorian say since he checked on you during the whole flower fiasco.

“Who, Eldon? Yeah. He’s harmless.” You laugh.

You parted ways at the restaurant soon after you agreed to help him. He gave you coordinates to meet him tomorrow, so for now you were heading back to the ship to get ready.

The Mandalorian simply hums in response.

You have a feeling it’s coming before his vocoder even has a chance to project anything. You’ve been waiting for it since you left the restaurant. You’ve already been walking for a while in silence, but you knew better than to think that meant it wasn’t going to happen. You knew it was only a matter of time before he was gonna ask you about it.

“What happened to you earlier?”

“What do you mean?” You play dumb.

“In town, before Eldon showed up. I turned around and you were gone. Even when I found you, you were...somewhere else.”

“I just didn’t sleep well last night.” You lie, and he immediately grabs your arm to stop you from walking.

It catches you by surprise—it's...not like him.

And while you’re staring in surprise wondering what he’s gonna say next, you realize he’s probably wondering the same thing. Like his body reacted before he got the chance to think about it.

“You…,” He sighs,“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”

“I know that—,”

“I just need you to let me know.” He cuts you off, but that doesn’t make any sense, so you tilt your head at him to show your confusion.

“I just need you to tell me if you aren’t okay.” His grip on your arm tightens slightly, and it’s only then you realize he still hasn’t let go of you.

You both just stand there in silence. Just like earlier, it seemed all words evaded you. So you just stood there, your visors locked onto each other. And even though neither of you can see each other’s eyes, you’re almost certain he’s staring right into yours.

“I’m okay.” You mutter, and this time you aren’t quite sure if you’re lying or not.

He gives you a nod and lets go of your arm, resuming his walk to the ship, but it takes you a minute to start walking again.

You watch him for a few steps, wondering what exactly was going through his head. You were thankful he didn’t pry further, you’re not sure you could handle that, but at the same time you can’t stop thinking about what he said.

I just need you to tell me if you aren’t okay.

It’s such a simple thing really, but as you watch him walk ahead of you, you can’t help but wonder what exactly he meant by that. What would he do if you weren’t okay? Why does he need to know?

Realizing just how far ahead he’s getting, you start walking again, picking up the pace to nearly catch up with him, but staying just a few paces behind so you can continue to pick apart what just happened. It’s only just now, while you’re staring at him, do you realize the sun has begun to set.

Naboo’s sunset’s were easily unmatched by any other. You’ve been to dozens of planets and nothing has yet to compare to the brilliance of color that washes over the skies here. Maybe it was the particular makeup of Naboo’s atmosphere that made it appear that much more beautiful, maybe it was all of the water on the planet, reflecting the sky back onto itself, creating a sight even the Maker would be breathless over.

It always starts with the softest hues of blush, that morph into a fiery gold, powerful and rich which swirls into a magnificent fuchsia. A rosy blend of perfection stretching far and wide above you.

And it was all perfectly reflected in his armor.

The way it distorts with the curve of his helmet, and the way the finish blurs everything together like mixing paint on a palette...it became something more beautiful than what was in the sky. As if he were a work of art all on his own.

And it reminds you of the last time you watched a Naboo sunset.

***

You had been hiking all day in the Gallo Mountains, hoping to make it to the top so you could watch the sunset together, but it was getting late fast and you were exhausted.

“Ko’van...I don’t think we’re gonna make it in time.” You huff out disappointedly as he offers you his hand to help you over a particularly large boulder.

“We have plenty of time sweetheart, just a little further.” He tries to urge you on, but you groan in response.

“We’re not even halfway!” You hate how whiny you sound, but you were exhausted...and you were right.

He only confirms your suspicions when he straightens up, his hands on his hips to peer ahead and see much much farther you have to go, and sighs.

“I’m sure the sunset looks just as beautiful from down here.” You announce your defeat, dropping down to sit on the ground in the middle of the trail. He watches you for a second as you stretch your legs out in front of you on the ground, and he almost looks like he's going to join you until he suddenly perks up.

“Come here for a second.” He reaches his hand out for you, flexing and unflexing his fingers a few times to signal for you to come closer. You roll your head over your shoulders to give him an exaggerated look of disbelief, before you sigh and take his hand, allowing him to haul you back to your feet.

“What is—oh!” He cuts you off when he suddenly pulls you in and holds onto you

Tight.

“Hang on!” He shouts, and before you even have a chance to think the both of you are rocketing up towards the sky.

You clutch onto him like your life depends on it—and if the air wasn’t rushing from your lungs right now you would be screaming. You were terrified.

You bury your face into his neck as you desperately try to catch your breath and avoid looking at the ground getting farther and farther away from you. You hear him chuckle in your ear, and you want so badly to be mad at him, you really do, but you’re too scared to even comprehend being angry right now.

Even when you feel him land, you don’t let go. You continue clutching to him, eyes squeezed shut like it’s some kind of trick and you’ll go barreling to the ground below if you do stop.

“Senika…” He whispers in your ear as he rests both his hands on your hips, trying to encourage you to turn around, “Look.”

Slowly but surely, you loosen your grip on him just slightly and turn your head just enough that you can see over your shoulder—

And stars above, are you happy he rocketed you both up here.

If you thought Naboo was beautiful before, you don’t even know how to describe the sight in front of you. The view was unlike any other. With a vantage point like this you could see what felt like the entirety of the planet below you. Waterfalls cascading into the valley below, and greenery stretching out far into the horizon.

But best of all was above you, swirls of clouds painted with color in a way you’ve never seen before. Like something out of a dream, so utterly amazing no words could truly describe it.

“Stars…,” You gasp, “It’s beautiful…”

“Yeah, it is.”

But when you turn back to look at him, he’s not watching the sunset at all. He’s staring right at you. As if the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen wasn’t even happening, as if the only thing that existed in front of him at that moment was you.

***

You thought he was crazy then, but as you find yourself unable to pull your gaze away from the glimmering beskar in front of you, you think, in your own way, you get it now.

The Mandalorian turns to glance at you over his shoulder, “What is it?”

“Nothing.” You turn to look back out at the horizon.

“Just watching the sunset.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When the three of you finally make it back to the ship, a wave of relief washes over you. Finally. Never in your life have you been more excited at the prospect of being cooped up within metal walls and breathing recycled air. You happily march your way up the ramp. You were going to have to head out again tomorrow, so you were going to savor every moment in here, and maybe finally get some rest.

Your body was begging for it. After hiking all of today, and the day before, with no sleep last night, you definitely need it. Exhaustion was flooding every one of your senses to the point that your memory of the day has all blurred together into a weird sleep deprived haze. What was only two days feels like it spanned over the course of two years.

Reprieve doesn’t come as easily as you had hoped, however.

Long after you and the Mandalorian had exchanged good nights, and you left him to his own devices in the hull while you had gotten comfortable in your usual spot in the copilot's seat, you find yourself awake.

Several Hours must have passed by now, and here you are. Staring out the transparisteel, at the haunting landscape illuminated perfectly by Naboo’s three moons. The dread that you hoped would leave you once you boarded the ship, had followed you on, and refused to leave.

It was different now. The ship you were in now, wasn’t familiar in the way the inn had been, and nothing in the ship has triggered any unwanted memories from a time long past, and you haven't even been able to drift off long enough to be haunted by nightmares, so what was it?

You shift in your seat, becoming increasingly frustrated. You force your eyes shut, figuring you’ll have to fall asleep at some point. Without even realizing you’ve opened them again however, you find yourself staring back out to the landscape in front of you. It’s like it was mocking you.

You just couldn’t stop thinking of him. That hole in your heart he left when he died, just feels like it’s grown to an unbearable level. Like your whole soul was uncomfortable. You shift again angrily, huffing as you pull your arms up to hug yourself tightly, making a point to turn to your side, so all you could see is the inside of the cockpit.

And his helmet.

You forgot you set it on the ledge of the controls next to your seat. The darkness of the visor was pointed right at you. Empty. But the longer you stare into it, the more you can almost feel him staring back at you.

The recycled air of the cockpit suddenly feels suffocating. You’re too hot and too cold at the same time. Even with your eyes closed, the void of his visor haunts you.

That’s it! You need some fresh air.

You shoot out of your seat in a bitter rage, and march your way out of the cockpit leaving the helmet behind.

In fact, you don't take anything with you. No go-bag, no armor, no comm, nothing. You’re only going to go out for a minute, you tell yourself as you quietly make your way through the hull. You don’t need it. You take one last look behind you as the ramp lowers, moonlight flooding the inside of the ship, before you march your way down the ramp and out onto the grass.

Even once you get outside, you don’t stop walking. The cool night air feels so refreshing. You need this. Just some time alone to clear your head. Maybe this is what you needed the whole time.

So you keep walking.

Where? You don't really care. You just indulge yourself in the feeling of the gentle breeze through your hair and focus on your breathing. Not worrying about anything else.

At some point you make it to the edge of a small creek. You take a seat next to the water's edge and peer into it, watching how the moonlight reflects off the water's current, glistening like the galaxy’s most treasured crystal.

You pull your knees up to your chest and allow yourself to get lost in it. Allowing yourself to remember things now that you’re alone. Letting yourself know peace, and accepting the pit in your chest for what it is.

***

“Do you ever feel like you made the wrong decision?” He asks randomly, your fingers interlocked with his, while he runs his thumb over yours gently.

“What do you mean?” You turn to look at him, gazing up at the sky above.

“Have you ever felt like...you would have been happier? If you didn’t come with me. Stayed on your home planet?” Nothing about his volume has changed, but you can’t shake the feeling he sounds distant, like he's not actually lying here with you right now, gazing up at the same stars you are, and you feel your brows furrow in concern.

“Why are you asking that?”

“Just wondering.”

But you're not buying it. You give his hand a squeeze, before you’re rolling over onto your side to face him completely.

“Ko’van…” You gently lay your palm on his chest, “Leaving with you was the best decision I’ve ever made. I’ve never once thought otherwise.”

He sets his hand over yours and gives it a squeeze, tilting his head to finally look at you instead of the stars.

“Sorry…I just—I feel like I’m being selfish…” He confesses, “I know my life is dangerous, constantly jumping from job to job...you deserve so much more…” He reaches up to tuck a stray hair behind your hair before settling his hand back over yours.

A wide smile spreads across your face,“I know what I was signing up for.” you explain, “My whole life I’ve been craving adventure, I was dying for the day I would be able to travel the galaxy and you—”

“I love you.”

You freeze. Your smile drops from your face. It’s so sudden, completely out of the blue, you weren’t expecting it at all. You feel your heart thumping wildly in your throat.

Did he just say what you thought he did?

“You don't have to say it back. I just...I just needed you to know.” He takes a deep inhale and tilts his chin so he can gaze back up to the stars.

You had known you felt differently for him, different than you had felt for any other person. After all this time together you cared for him more than anyone else in your life, you felt more comfortable around him, like the whole galaxy could come crumbling down at any minute and it wouldn’t matter so long as he was with you…

But you had never thought to put a name to it. Love. What a perfect way to describe that warm swirl of feelings you had for him. A specific kind of contentment you hadn’t felt anywhere else—for anyone else.

It was perfect.

You move your hand with his, leading it across his chest to where his heart lies.

“I love you too.”

***

You feel tears begin to well up behind your eyes again, so you quickly stand up to continue your walk, sniffing loudly to stop any from actually falling.

Maker, you miss him.

It was hard enough as is making it day to day without him, but here on Naboo? You feel like you can’t even get a single second of relief. You need to get it together, you’re being ridiculous. Nothing about Naboo was special. Plenty of couples have probably laid in these very fields and confessed their love to each other for the first time. There’s nothing unique about it.

You’re a mess. Plenty of those same couples have probably broken up and felt like their world had ended. Plenty of people in this galaxy have lost someone important to them. Life was cruel and unfair, that's just how it works. It’s been over a year, you should be better by now, able to move on by now.

You storm your way through the night, crunching loudly with each step as you find yourself bitter and angry. You’re angry at yourself, you're angry at the galaxy, you're angry at fate. You’re angry at him. You’re angry that he left you, that he forced you to continue without him, that he valued having a warrior’s death over spending his last moments with you—

You halt suddenly. You didn’t even realize where you were heading until you’re suddenly no longer in the stretches of long grass, but instead surrounded by trees.

You should turn back.

...or maybe...maybe you could see it one last time.

You still know the way there, of course you do. It’s been burned into your memory, like the layout of your childhood home. It probably wasn’t even there anymore. Someone probably cut it down—or maybe it burned in some forest fire, it has been a while after all, anything could have happened…

But you march on regardless.

***

You were still naked, tangled together, as close as two beings could possibly be with one another. You felt breathless, and you weren’t quite sure if the goosebumps on your skin was from the breeze running over your damp skin, or from the soft kisses he was peppering along your collarbone.

“You’re so perfect…” He whispers against your neck, before pressing another kiss to the skin there, and you know for sure that's the cause of the pleasant chills that run down your spine.

“I wish we could stay like this forever…” You breathe out, while softly threading your fingers through his hair, and he hums in agreement as he places another kiss on the side of your neck. He moves up to place another at the bottom of your jaw, before meeting to lock his lips with your own.

It was utter bliss, sharing this moment with him. You meant it when you said you wished it could last forever. This feeling of complete peace and contentment—you could lay with him like this until the galaxy fell apart at the seams and you would have no regrets.

He breaks the kiss, pulling away only enough to rest his forehead on yours so the both of you can try and catch your breath.

***

As you get closer to where it should be, you slow your steps when you think you smell a familiar sweetness in the air. You must be imagining things.

But when you walk just a little further the smell becomes unmistakable. You take a few more steps, but stop when you notice a smear of red next to your boot. You lift it to find the crushed remnants of a Millaflower.

And then you notice another one, just a few inches away from you, and then another not too far from there...

***

“Marry me.” He whispers softly, and you let out a short huff of laughter through your nose.

“I mean it.” He whispers again, pulling you closer and placing a short kiss to the tip of your nose, “I want you to marry me.”

***

Your heart shatters into a million pieces when you see it. Just ahead of you, there's just enough of a clearing for the moonlight to highlight it perfectly. Your tree is still there, surrounded by a sea of vibrant, glorious, red.

Millaflowers.

***

“Will I have to—”

He gently shushes you, placing his thumb over your lips as he cups your face so tenderly, as if he were holding the most fragile of glass.

“You don’t have to do anything...just—just promise you’ll stay with me forever. Keep letting me show you the stars, share every moment you can with me. Promise to stay by my side until the end…and let me promise you the same.” He gingerly stokes his thumbs over the highs of your cheekbones, like he’s savoring every bit of you he can, like if he doesn’t you’ll fade away entirely.

“I promise.” You whisper, your heart thumping wildly in your throat, “Forever. I promise.”

***

You collapse to your knees in front of the familiar tree—your tree.

Tears begin streaming down your burning cheeks as you trace his bundle of scratches in the bark—the wing, the body, the beak.

A glorious song bird.

Feeling your exhaustion setting in, you lay down in the field of crimson flowers that surround you as tears continue to well up and fall past your lashes. How unusual. You’ve never seen a single Millaflower sprout here before, and yet now they flood your special spot. Like the planet of Naboo was mourning him with you.

Quickly you feel the weight of the last couple days settle into your bones, and your eyelids begin to feel heavy as you struggle to keep them open.

You wonder...If you had gotten the chance to bury him...maybe you would have buried him here.

As you close your eyes you think about how perfect that would have been. How perfect that the place where your story together began is where it ended.

If only you had that chance...

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You jolt awake when you realize you drifted off. How long did you fall asleep for? You quickly jump to your feet. It couldn’t have been too long, it was still dark out—but it has definitely been way longer than you had intended when you realize only one of Naboo’s three moons was still visible to you now.

You’re barely awake, sleep tugs at your eyelids still, and your body is screaming for you to lay back down. Your whole mind is hazy—honestly you aren’t sure if you’re awake or not anymore. Every movement you make seems to blur with the last, and your limbs don’t even feel like they’re connected to you. They feel like they’re just kind of...floating about where they should be.

But you have to get back to the ship.

Time seems to slur as you make your way through the woods, you find it’s slipping away from you, like you blink and next thing you know you’re somewhere completely different. If you’re being honest...You’re not even sure you’re heading in the right direction.

You gotta get back to the ship…He’s probably waiting for you.

After what simultaneously feels like far too long and no time at all, you finally break through the treeline, back in the long stretches of grassland. You see something though, heading in your direction.

It’s not that far, only a couple feet ahead of you, but in your haze you’re struggling—you squint trying to make out what it is—

No, who it is.

A rush of happiness floods your whole being and you joyously begin to make your way towards him as he continues in your direction.

“Ko’van!” You call out to him, but your voice doesn’t sound like your own. It's slurred and croaky—a side effect from your exhaustion, maybe. But he freezes at the sound of his name, suddenly halts his steady advance towards you.

You quickly realize your mistake.

Your smile drops. It only takes you one more step for his image to become clear in front of you...shiny and silver.

In your daze you had somehow completely forgotten everything, mistaken the Mandalorian for your husband.

And for the few, short seconds it took before you realized, your galaxy was whole again…

But now your heart is shattering once more.

Everything crumbles onto your fragile being all at once, and the dam finally breaks. What starts off as one tear, quickly turns to a full on sob. Everything you had been holding in these past couple days—no everything you’ve been holding in since his death—finally comes pouring out of you full force, and you can’t do anything to stop it.

You drop to your knees in front of him, your tired limbs no longer able to bear your weight, and you continue to cry. A full on ugly cry you haven’t allowed yourself since you were a child, while your hands desperately clutch at the grass as you try—to no avail—to pull yourself together. You feel like a fool. A complete and utter fool.

Through your choked sobs you hear the sound of the grass crunching beneath his boot as he takes one more step closer to you, before kneeling down in front of you.

You think he’s going to scold you, tell you to get it together, tell you how ridiculous you’re acting, but he does no such thing. Instead, he gently takes hold of your arm, and eases you forward until your head rests on his shoulder, his other wrapping around to hold you there.

“Tried to comm you. Got worried when I found out you left it on the ship.” He mutters quietly as he holds you.

The embrace only causes you to cry even harder. You want desperately to apologize, but the burning in your chest causes your throat to tighten, and you’re not able to get out anything other than a whimper. But after all he's put up with, how patient he’s been with you this whole time, how even now, he’s making a point to comfort you, he deserves an explanation for everything—the way you’ve been acting, the way you’ve been pushing him away...

“I—I miss him.” Is all you manage to finally croak out through choked sobs.

He tightens his hold on your ever so slightly, “I know.” He whispers, barely audible through his vocoder.

And so he just continues to hold you like that. Allows you to cry. Let’s you finally release what's been on the verge of escaping since you landed here.

He was a kind man. You think to yourself as he helps you to your feet when your sobs begin to die down to silent tears. Selfless and honorable. Your thoughts continue as he encourages you to lean your weight on him as he helps walk your tired body back to the ship. A good man...

A friend.

“In Mando’a we have a phrase...to remember those who have passed.” He tells you on the way back to the ship, “Did your husband ever teach it to you?”

You shake your head between sniffles, “No, I don’t think so.”

“Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum...” The Mando’a rolls off his tongue in the most beautiful way, the same way it used to roll off your husband’s tongue. A certain cadence and pronunciation you were never truly able to master.

“It means that even though they have died, you’re alive to remember them, so they live on in your memory. Forever.”

It takes all of your willpower to not start crying again. It was beautiful, perfect, and everything you needed right now.

“You still call out for him sometimes…” He nearly whispers, like a confession, “I heard you a few times, while you were sleeping. Didn’t realize what you were saying until you mistook me for him after we escaped Catonica.” It was a confession, you realize.

It takes you a while to realize what he's talking about, but then you remember the remnants of a dream you had where you were reaching for him after the Mandalorian had saved you.

“I can’t imagine how hard it must be…” He breathes out under his breath, and when you turn to look at him, you find he's staring out, far into the distance. Like he's not even here walking through the grasslands with you anymore, but somewhere else, far away, “...to lose someone like that. Someone you care for so much.”

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Your head is POUNDING

You’re struggling trying to get all your gear ready for the mission later. You keep having to stop every couple of minutes just to close your eyes and breathe through the pain. The constant pinching behind your eyes, and throbbing in your temples was worse than any hangover you have ever experienced—and you’ve had your fair share of bad ones.

You didn’t end up getting any more sleep last night. By the time you made it back to the ship, the sun was already cresting the horizon, and even though the Mandalorian encouraged you to rest, you couldn’t stop the way you were repeating that phrase he taught you…

Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum

You curse loudly when you drop the charges you were trying to clip onto your belt. You were still so out of it. You figure the Millaflowers were to blame.

You knew they had calming properties, but what you didn't know is apparently they could work as a sedative if you had prolonged exposure to a highly concentrated area. So...lying down in a dense field of them, for example.

It wasn’t until the Mandalorian asked about the powerful smell still lingering on you that he helped you put the pieces together.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He’s leaning against the side of the hull, watching you as you struggle as you kneel down to swipe the dropped charges back up off the floor.

“Yeah. I’m sure.” You snap back, forcefully clipping the charges to your belt.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” He warns you, as you go digging through your ammo pouch for non lethal rounds.

“It’s fine! Stop stressing.” Your tone elevates with your irritation. You realize it’s mostly the headache talking, but you were sick of it. Your frustration shows with the way you're shoving things in your bag.

“I’m not stressing.” He snaps back, “I’m worried about you, especially after last night. You haven’t been acting like yourself.”

You roll your eyes and make a point of ignoring him. You go to reach into the ship's weapons cabinet, to grab more supplies, but he storms over and slams the door shut before you get the chance, earning himself the nastiest glare you can manage.

“I don’t think you’re in any state to be fighting a Rancor, and I don’t think you should be trusting Eldon.” He looms over you.

You scoff, “Eldon isn’t someone to worry about.”

“No. He is. Something about his story doesn’t add up, and I think you’re too upset about other things to realize it.” He points an accusatory finger at you, and you’re not sure why that's what does it, but you snap. Completely lose your cool.

You shoot up from where you're kneeling on the floor and square right up to him, inches away from his visor like you’re looking for a fight.

“You don’t know anything.” You growl out, pure venom spilling from your lips, “I agreed to the job. So I can either go alone, or you can help me with it, up to you.”

He keeps his visor locked to yours. The both of you glaring daggers into each other. The same way you did when you first met.

And then in an instant, he’s gone. Whipping around and marching himself to the cockpit, his cape snapping in the air behind him.

Regret immediately pools in the depths of your stomach. You shouldn’t have done that. There was no reason for you to be acting so aggressively toward him. He’s done nothing but kind to you this whole time. Constantly going out of his way to try and give you what you need whether that be space, or a shoulder to cry on. In return you’re pushing him away, responding not with appreciation but callousness. He was only trying to look out for you.

You should apologize.

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And that's the last thing you remember.

Next thing you know you’re waking up on the floor of a completely foreign ship, your hands in binders, and your whole body feeling like it got hit by a speeder trying to go lightspeed.

You blink rapidly trying desperately to recall where you are and how you got here when you hear footsteps approach from behind you.

“Mandalorian?” You croak out in question, not quite having the strength to roll over just yet.

but the chuckle you get in response sends a horrible chill down your spine.

“Oh no, my friend, not quite. Don’t you know those are hard to find these days?” And he erupts into a dark, terrible laughter.

*** Previous - MASTER - Next (Coming soon!!)

Taglist: @bookloverfilmoholic

(let me know if you would like to be added/removed!)

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brokenbeskar · 3 years

Text

CHAPTER 8 OF MEMORIES REFORGED IS DROPPING THIS WEEK

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

It’s gonna real long and REAL angsty I hope y’all are ready for this one!

(if you haven’t caught up yet here’s the masterlist)

heres a lil’ Grogu to comfort you in advance

#if you wanna be added to the taglist lemme know!#memories reforged #MR fic #I'm pretty excited for this one can you tell?

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brokenbeskar · 3 years

Text

Newfound Trust

Chapter Seven of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 5.7k

Summary: You regain consciousness after being rescued by the Mandalorian, but something isn’t quite right.

Warnings: Blood! descriptions of injuries, let me know if i should tag anything else!

A/N: Sorry for the delay! I wrote this one in like 2 weeks then got busy with work and decided I wasn’t happy with it when I finally sat down to reread it. I’m still not sure it’s my favorite, but the story must continue! Hope you all enjoy!

Everything is a blur.

You can’t tell if the moments you catch are from you fading in and out of consciousness, or if you’re having another nightmare.

The first is just the feeling of wind in your hair, the next is a thud beneath you and you feel your feet drag against a metallic floor.

Everything fades back out.

The next moment you catch is a smear of blood beneath you. This was definitely a nightmare.

You fade back out.

You feel the embrace around your waist tighten and you feel yourself being dragged somewhere. The warmth of it is comforting. You weakly lift your arms and grip at the fabric you can reach, trying to pull yourself closer.

You fade again.

You feel yourself being lowered, but you refuse to let go. Large hands wrap gently around your wrists to get you to release. You struggle to pry open your heavy eyelids, but you can only manage to keep them open for a split second before they are threatening to fall closed again.

Through your blurry vision the only thing you can make out is the familiar void of black from your husband’s visor above you.

You try to reach out for him as he begins to pull away from you, but the strength in your arms fails you, and you begin to fade again.

You try to fight it off, try to stay awake just a little longer, you can't lose him again.

You try to call out for him, yell his name out, beg for him to stay with you, but your voice fails you. It dies weakly in your throat before the words can even leave your mouth. You muster all your strength, try to scream his name as loud as you can –

Everything fades back to black.

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Opening your eyes, you blink blearily around the small, yet foreign space you’re laid in. Your entire body feels heavy and weak, your arms feeling like they weigh thousands of pounds. Every muscle in your body is sore and worn out as if you’ve been working out for days without rest. You take note of the blankets underneath you, running your fingers across the folds. Despite how stiff and scratchy they feel, your exhausted body makes you think they’re the most comfortable blankets you’ve ever touched.

It takes you much too long to realize you’re back on the ship. It feels like your head is filled with cotton. Everything is foggy as you try to piece things back together. It takes you much longer to realize where on the ship you are. You’re in the little alcove the Mandalorian sleeps in with the child. You’re laying on his mediocre excuse for a cot, but--stars above, at this moment it feels like the most perfect bed in the galaxy.

But how did you get here? You’re struggling to remember anything after he first rushed in to help you. You can feel the rumble of the ship's engine beneath you, so at the very least you know you’re in space.

Slowly you manage to sit up despite the pain and exhaustion radiating through every inch of you. The first thing you notice is how much blood there is. Everywhere.

Your clothes are sticking to you uncomfortably, a mix of dried and crusted, but also still slightly wet and sticky blood soaked into the fibers. It’s covering your hands, and it's smeared all over the blankets beneath you. You feel a bit guilty, these were definitely going to have to be replaced.

Thank the maker he came down to save your ass in the first place, but it's oddly kind of him to give up his cot for you. He must have known you would ruin it. After all, there's no way he didn’t notice you were bleeding this much before setting you in here.

Though, now that you think about it...this seems like a lot of blood--like, more than there should be. Especially when you consider your injuries, and the fact that you’re mostly conscious right now.

Not quite having the mental capacity to try and put the pieces together, you move to slide off the edge of the cot, but you freeze and your heart begins to race when you see a large puddle of blood just beneath you on the cockpit floor.

Something was definitely wrong.

Following the trail of blood with your gaze, your heart sinks when you find the crumpled, silver armored body of the Mandalorian on the floor at the base of the cockpit ladder.

You’re suddenly hit with a rush of adrenaline and your whole body immediately kicks into gear. Forgetting your pain entirely, you leap to your feet despite your aching limbs and rush over, falling to your knees besides him. He’s laying face down in a pool of his own blood, and you can see it smeared over the ladder rungs. He must have collapsed after takeoff.

“Mandalorian!” You try to call out for him, as you roll him over to get a better assessment of his injuries. Blood clings to the fabrics of his flight suit and taints the beauty of his beskar, pooling in the edges.

Searching the spaces between his armor, it doesn’t take you long before you find the large stab wound in his side just beneath his chestplate. You immediately apply pressure on the wound. This was bad. The wound was deep and still bleeding, and he’s already lost way too much blood. This was all starting to feel way too familiar to you, and you can feel your heart rate increasing every second as panic begins to consume you.

Your eyes snap to his visor when he groans weakly beneath you, barely moving as he starts to come to.

“Hey, you're alright. Hang in there, Shiny.” You’re not sure if you’re trying to reassure him or yourself at this point, but you try to keep calm as you adjust on your knees and start to grab at his chestplate to remove it, “I’m going to have to take off your armor, okay?” You jump slightly when he suddenly grabs at your forearm, gripping it as tight as he can despite how weak he must be feeling from blood loss.

“I’m not going to touch your helmet.” You try to reassure him. His grip on your arm loosens slightly and you take that as permission to finish removing the chestplate, setting it aside carefully with shaky hands before removing his under armour and working at his flight suit. You’re struggling to get it undone, so you steal a knife from his boot and cut at the fabric, slowly revealing bare skin, hardly visible through all of the blood.

“I gotta grab a medkit. Hang tight!” You quickly jump to your feet and rush to grab a medkit before settling back on your knees beside him, shuffling through the contents of the kit.

You feel his hand move to grab the top of your knee while you panic through the contents. You think maybe it’s just so he can ground himself until you realize he's trying to speak. It's barely anything, incoherent straining amplified through his vocoder. You pause so you can focus, trying to make out his words.

“C-...c-cauter--izer….” He barely manages to breathe out, and you’re immediately ready to jump into action.

“Where?”

His grip on your knee tightens as he strains to speak, “B-ba--g. F-fron...t...p-p--pocket.”

His hand falls limply to the floor as you jump up to rush where his bag is, rifling through the front pocket contents until you retrieve the cauterizer and return to him. Luckily you already know how to use one of these. Powering it on you’re met with the all too familiar horrible crackling of the device.

“Sorry, this is gonna hurt.” You warn him, before lowering the device and bringing it to his wound. The second it hisses against his skin, he gasps out loudly and shoots a hand out to grab tightly at your upper arm. “I’m so sorry.” You repeat as he grunts out through the pain.

You continue to work at his wound, the crackling of burning skin filling the hull. At some point his death grip on your arm releases and falls limply back to the floor when he begins to lose consciousness again. You panic only for a moment, but his shuttered breathing tells you he's still alive, so you continue your work to stop the bleeding as quickly as you can.

You finish and power down the device, grabbing some bacta spray from the kit and applying it to the area. You hope it will be enough. It will keep him alive, that's for sure, but this wound was too large to be healed with only the meager amount of bacta you had on hand. If only you had some stim packs or something. Guess you’ll just have to pick some up on your next stop. In the meantime the both of you just need time to recover.

Shuffling from your knees you settle fully on the floor. Your own exhaustion creeping back in now that your adrenaline is wearing off. And with your adrenaline wearing off, that means your pain is settling back in too. You sigh and you glance down at your injured leg. A clear blast shot burned through your pant leg where your holster used to be. You hold up your own hand, flipping it back and forth to inspect both sides of it. You were lucky the blaster shot only grazed the edge of it, as much as it hurts you only have to worry about some minor burns rather than a lost limb.

Now that you’re back in the safety of the ship, you’re able to see how beat up you actually were. Tears scattered all throughout your clothing, cuts and burns all over you from where you had been prodded and shocked with their electrified spears. Your injuries, while many, weren’t nearly as severe or life threatening as the metal man unconscious in front of you. You pull the medkit into your lap and go through the tedious process of cleaning your wounds.

He could have left you there. He really could have. He didn’t even make any effort to grab the bounty, even though Yanu was right there. It would have been so easy for him to leave you to fend for yourself while he snatched her up and cashed in the bounty without you.

But instead he made you his priority. Got injured and risked his own life to get you out of there. A kindness you’ve only ever experienced from one other person before him.

A kindness you’ve only ever experienced from your husband. The love of your life.

You finish slapping some bacta patches to your worst injuries, not having the energy or supplies to do all of them, and put away the remaining contents of the medkit, setting it aside. You stare down at the Mandalorian, watching his chest rise and fall with his breathing. This man was still a complete mystery to you. Despite having been traveling together for nearly a month now you know barely anything about him. A stranger.

A stranger who saved your life.

And a stranger you saved in return.

You hear a cry begin to bubble up from the cockpit. What starts off as quiet whimpers quickly turning into loud, sobbing, cries. Once again you find yourself springing into action, carefully stepping over the warrior beneath you, and struggling up the ladder to where the child is haphazardly swaddled into a large blanket and buckled into the copilot’s seat.

You swiftly unbuckle him and pull him into your arms, holding him tight and rocking back and forth while you gently shush him. He must have had a nightmare.

“shh, hey it's okay. I’m here. Everything is okay, I’m right here.” You pull him up higher on your chest, and press your forehead to his as you continue to rock him softly.

You stroke his big ears gently as his once agitated sobs subside into a few weak wimpers. Pulling back from him and giving him a big smile, you see blood smeared over the blanket he was wrapped up in and your heart sinks. This Mandalorian, despite his severe injury, used all of his remaining strength to not only take care of you, but make sure the child was taken care of too.

How selfless.

You take the child with you as you descend back down into the hull, so you can keep an eye on both him and the Mandalorian. He wiggles in your grasp and struggles to pull an arm out of his blanket so he can grab onto the front of your shirt. He clings to you desperately as you hum softly to him and pace back and forth through the hull, trying to lull him back to sleep, glancing over occasionally to check on the metal man on the floor.

Pacing with the baby in your arms, you allow yourself to reflect on your time with the Mandalorian as a whole. He’s never once not been a mystery to you, a man forever shrouded in steel, a face you’ll never see.

And everyday he continues to surprise you. You were surprised when he agreed to split the first bounty with you. You were surprised when you found he had adopted a foundling of his own. You were surprised when he agreed to continue to work with you on your current job. You were surprised he even bothered to continue on this job with you after Coruscant, and you were surprised he went along with your half-assed plan on Utrost.

You were surprised when he agreed to defend your armor with his life.

And now, you’re surprised he risked his own life to save yours.

He’s a good man.

A rare thing to find in a galaxy as harsh as this one, but here he was. A good man.

Your own exhaustion taking over, you settle back onto the floor, your back against the wall next to him. You glance down to the now snoozing baby in your arms, not being able to resist gently stroking his little fuzzy and adorable head. Your eyes feel heavier by the second, threatening to betray you despite wanting to stay awake to make sure both the baby and the Mandalorian are okay.

It doesn’t take long before you’re giving into the temptation to allow your eyes to fall shut. Just for a few minutes, you tell yourself. You won’t even sleep, just rest for a second. Just a few minutes…

You don’t remember drifting off, and you certainly have no idea how long you had been sleeping when you startle awake to the sound of the Mandalorian groaning weakly and the sound of his metal armor scraping against the hull floor as he shifts. You immediately sit straight up, holding the baby to your chest with one arm while you reach out to him with the other.

“Hey! Hey. You’re alright Tinman, take it easy.” You attempt to ease him back to the floor with a hand to his shoulder when he tries to sit up, “I patched you up best I could, but you need to take it easy for a little while.”

He allows you to gently encourage him back to the floor, opting to roll his helmet in your direction instead.

“Thank you.” He barely mutters out, his words sticking to his throat, dry and weak with exhaustion.

“I should be the one thanking you for getting me out of there when you did.” You lightly knock against his pauldron playfully, “That was going real bad, real fast. You saved my life.”

He rolls his helmet back so he’s staring at the top of the hull, “Guess we can call it even then.”

“Guess we’re even then.” You nod with a smile, parroting his words back to him.

The commotion wakes the baby, the little green gremlin fussing in your grasp. You adjust your hold on him, turn him around so he’s propped on your thigh and able to see his metal clad guardian. The baby coos at him, reaching one of his stubby paws out towards him, and the Mandalorian reciprocates, lifting his own arm to run a thumb over the child’s cheek. The child babbles happily, grabbing at the back of the Mandalorians hand with his little claws.

“He woke up crying earlier. Right after I finished patching you up. Think he had a nightmare or something…” You tilt your head as you watch the soft interaction, “Or maybe he just missed you. Here--” You pick the child up from your lap and settle him on the Mandalorian’s chest, being careful of his injury.

Grogu squeals happily, leaning forward to tap the armored man’s helmet, peering into his visor as if he could see his eyes. The Mandalorian scoops an arm around him to support him against his chest.

“Good to see you too, you little womp rat.” He croaks out through his tired cords, stroking the back of the baby’s fuzzy head.

You can’t help but smile at the two of them. It always catches you off guard, the way this strong and powerful Mandalorian bounty hunter softens instantly for the child. His foundling.

Rough gloved hands that are quick on a trigger, sealing the fate of many, strong and powerful in combat, now gentle and kind as they comfort and caress this tiny helpless being. The tenderness he shows such a stark contrast to the intimidating armor he lives in. It’s unexpected.

“How are you feeling?” He jars you from your thoughts. His helmet tilted on the floor so he can look past the child towards you.

“I’m alright, but I’m the one who should be asking you.” You chuckle, “Your injuries are far worse than mine.”

He takes a moment before replying, “I couldn’t tell.” You think he’s making a sarcastic remark until he clarifies.

“I was in such a hurry to get you back to the ship, I couldn’t tell what was your blood and what was mine.”

You hum in acknowledgement, trying to recall what little details you could about the escape. “I’ll be honest when I woke up I thought it was mine. I didn’t even know you got hurt. Wasn’t until I saw just how much blood there was…and I found you half dead on the floor that I realized.” You drop your gaze to your hands in your lap as you run your fingers over each other.

“Glad you found me when you did.”

“Me too.”

This is a casual conversation, nothing out of the ordinary has been said, nothing particularly important has been addressed, but yet...you can’t help but feel like something between the two of you has shifted. You can’t really explain it, you honestly aren’t really sure what it is. Maybe it’s the bacta running through your system, maybe it's the comedown from all the adrenaline, maybe you got a severe concussion when everything went down...but something is different now.

You first recognized it earlier when you were trudging through the tunnels of Canto Bight, how things between you had changed so much from when you first met. There's a sort of comfort now, an easiness that surrounds you both. In the short time you’ve been traveling together you’ve already grown to find comfort in his company, and now after this--you’ve found trust. Trust in each other. An unspoken acknowledgement, proven with your actions, that you’ll keep each other safe.

“Speaking of all that blood--” You stand up and scoop the child from his chest, causing the baby to giggle wildly at the sudden momentum, “I’ll watch the kid if you want to use the fresher.” You hold a hand out to him, and when he takes it you carefully help him up to his feet.

“Thank you.” he tips his helmet at you before moving past you toward the fresher, but he stops just at the entrance.

“Your armor,” He turns back to look at you, “It’s in the cockpit, wrapped up under the control panel.”

“Thanks.” You give him a nod, trying to appear casual before spinning around quickly to make your way up to the cockpit with Grogu tucked under your arm. You try to force yourself to slow down, not let your eagerness show as you quickly make your way up the ladder, but you’re not sure if you’re successful.

The second you get into the cockpit you rush to the front of the ship and drop to your knees in front of the control panel where a wrapped up bundle lays. You carefully set the child down next to you, and pull the mass out, slowly pulling at the edges of the fabric and piece by piece revealing more of the familiar metal safety stowed within it.

It’s like a breath of fresh air, instant relief filling you as you pick up one of your pauldrons from the pile. You run your fingers over the chipped paint, pausing at the edges of where his old clan insignia has been scratched off and replaced with a poorly painted silhouette of a bird. Having his armor back in your hands, feeling the weight of it in your palms, fills you with comfort.

You set the pauldron back on the floor neatly and reach for your helmet from the pile. Gazing into the void of the visor you can't help but smile. Maybe it’s weird, but...it feels like home. You take a deep breath as you press your forehead to the cool kiss of metal and close your eyes.

“My sweet, sweet Sen’ika.”

You can almost hear his voice calling out to you. Echoing in your mind, a mere whisper of him, but you cling to it desperately. As if, you would somehow forget about him, forget about all your time together, if you stopped thinking about him for even just a moment.

You feel Grogu grab gently onto your pant leg to try and get your attention. You lower the helmet from your forehead as you look down to see his tiny hand outstretched, presenting you with his favorite silver ball. You can't help the smile that fills your features as you set your helmet in your lap, and gently take the ball from him, causing him to babble happily in return.

“Alright little bug, let's play.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------

You’re not quite sure how long you and the kid spend playing together, rolling the metal silver ball back and forth on the floor and chasing him around the cockpit for his favorite game of keep-away. All you know is when you hear the cockpit door slide open, you know it must be an entertaining sight with you sprawled out on the floor with the child giggling wildly as he climbs all over you.

“Oh no!” You shout dramatically, “I have once again been defeated by the legendary Grogu!” You flail about increasing your theatrics, much to the amusement of the kid.

Probably not so much to the amusement of his armored guardian, who's making a point of having to carefully step around your splayed limbs to reach his respective seat.

“Good to see you two are keeping yourselves entertained.” He jests as you sit up, swinging the child into your lap.

“Gotta keep this little gremlin out of trouble somehow!” You laugh as you pinch at the kid’s big ‘ol cheeks causing him to squeal in delight. “Besides, he’s so cute. How can you resist?” You give him a gentle squeeze and he erupts back into a fit of giggles.

The Mandalorian just stares at you in silence for a moment, observing you and Grogu as you go about your antics on the floor. You’re about to confront him for staring, but he speaks up before you get the chance.

“You’re good with him.”

“Huh?” Confusion lines your entire face. Where did that come from?

“Do you…” He pauses for a moment as if to consider how, or if he should even ask whatever he's about to, “Do you have younglings of your own?”

You almost choke on air with how off guard that question caught you

“Oh! Um…” You pull the child to your chest as you rise from the floor and move to your seat. “No, no I don’t.” You say, shaking your head. The Mandalorian makes a small noise in acknowledgement, seeming satisfied with your answer, but you continue to mull his question over in your head as you suddenly realize something you hadn’t before.

“Me and my husband, we never even talked about it actually...” You elaborate, bouncing Grogu on your knee. You look over to where your helmet rests on the control panel, your eyes tracing the edges around the visor. You wonder if that’s something your husband would have wanted, if raising younglings together would have been something he looked forward to. You feel almost...guilty not knowing. That seems so important, such an essential thing to know about someone you were planning on spending the rest of your life with. The two of you were just so busy with each other, traveling the stars, and hunting bounties that it just never came up. Maybe it was a conversation he was saving for the future, a future that never came.

You don’t even realize how long you were lost in your own distressing thoughts until you suddenly hear him speak up again.

“I’m sorry.” He apologizes softly. His voice is so quiet, but you don’t even notice because suddenly you’re beyond embarrassed.

“No! It’s okay! I’m sorry...I uh--I just…” You let out a shaky sign, “It’s still hard.” You admit quietly.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” He reassures you. Leaving a moment of silence before he speaks again, “How long has it been?”

“Year and a half.” You slump down into your seat, running your fingers along Grogu’s ear. “Thought it would have been easier by now.” you admit with a sad scoff.

“It doesn’t get easier.” His modulated drawl catches you by surprise, and you flick your gaze to his, but he’s settled his own out to the swirling expanse of hyperspace.

“Just different, but it still hurts.” He explains and your heart immediately aches for him.

“Who did you lose?” You ask cautiously not wanting to overstep your boundaries.

He turns his gaze back to you, as if he’s considering you for a moment before he answers, “My parents. I lost them when I was a boy when our settlement was attacked.”

You open your mouth to respond, but the grit from his modulator interrupts you before you can get anything out.

“And more recently, I lost everyone in my covert.” Your heart immediately sinks at his words. You had no idea he had lost so much and can’t help but stare at him with sympathy--no you realize.

Empathy.

You knew his pain, and he knew yours. Your situations were different, but they were also the same.

You both knew what that kind of loss feels like, the grief that pools in your chest and leaves you feeling hollow. He understands what it’s like to have your whole life ripped from you, to have to try and craft a new one for yourself. He was hurting just as much as you were, and you had no idea. You recognize the empty stares he gives back out the cockpit window, even with his helmet on. You recognize it because you’ve experienced it.

To lose his parents as a boy though? And then later his entire covert? Suddenly everything about him makes sense, and your heart breaks for him--with him.

Without giving it much thought you find yourself moving to reach for him. You firmly place your hand on his arm, just below his pauldron, and give him a firm but reassuring squeeze.

He quickly looks to where you’re making contact before flicking his gaze to your eyes. Worried you might have overstepped, you drop your hand from his arm.

“I’m sorry…” You try to meet where you think his eyes are behind the visor and give him a sincere look, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

He just stares back at you for a moment in silence, the black void of his visor locked intensely to you, and although you can’t see it, you’re positive you’re looking directly into his eyes.

He surprises you when he reaches out to you this time. Hesitant as he hovers closer to your upper arm, before finally his fingers brush over your skin and wrap around your arm in return.

“And I’m sorry for yours.” He says back to you, giving your arm a gentle squeeze. You give him a sad smile in return, and he slowly drops his hand from you.

It warms your heart right up. He was clearly so unused to comforting others, and yet here he was putting in the effort to comfort you in the same way you attempted to comfort him. You probably should find it awkward, but you don’t. You find it...endearing almost. And you find yourself feeling comforted by the gesture all the same.

“Thank you.” You offer him a smile, “And thank you for watching over my armor. I was a bit worried you would run off with it. Beskar belongs to the Mandalorians afterall.” You mock playfully.

“A deal’s a deal. Besides, that armor is rightfully yours.” You can feel the confusion written all over your face. Rightfully yours? Since when? The last the two of you spoke about it it ended up in a brawl with your blaster to his throat.

“You going soft on me because I saved your life? Didn’t take you for the type to change your ways because I did you a favor.” You tease, leaning back in your seat.

“I’m not. It’s your husband's armor. Your husband was a Mandalorian.”

“Yeah, but I’m not--,”

“You are.” He interrupts, “I have no right to take that armor from you.”

Well, that doesn't leave much room for argument, does it? Though, you guess you should be thankful. You were wondering when he was going to try and pry it from you next. You know he's not the type to let go of something so sacred to his culture purely because it means something to you, but even still it feels strange to once again be riding on your husband’s legacy.

You’re not a Mandalorian. You’ll never be a Mandalorian. These are things you’ve settled on ages ago. You don’t know enough about them, and even with what you do know you don’t share their ideals.

Your husband wasn’t traditional by any means. He still wore his Mandalorian title as proudly as he did his armor, but he had his own beliefs about what that meant to him. So when he first brought up the idea of getting married to you, and you were immediately worried about the concept of having to become a Mandalorian, he was quick to reassure you that you didn’t have to. It was never expected of you, and it wasn’t really something you wanted.

So the idea that someone else considers you a Mandalorian purely because you were married to one seems...wrong.

You’re not a Mandalorian, you’re not.

--------------------------------------------------------------------

You have a weird dream later that night.

You’re walking alone in the moonlight through the vast, seemingly endless, sands of the Dune Sea.

You trudge through the deep sands with legs that feel heavy as steel. You’re looking for something, but you can’t remember what.

You gaze out at the never ending stretch of sand before you, and you see something...it might be the light playing tricks on you, but you swear you see the faintest of silhouettes in the distance.

You start to run, struggle to pick up your heavy feet and drag yourself across the sand as quickly as you can manage. And as you get closer, so does the figure. The shape becoming more and more defined as you work to close the impossible gap between you.

The figure turns to face you, it’s clear it’s a person, but it's too dark to make out the details. You reach out for them, but suddenly the sand gives way from beneath you, and you begin to fall.

Grains of sand turn to stars, a whole sea of them floating past you, and as you fall, they pick up speed, smearing and swirling until it looks like you're falling through hyperspace itself.

You feel the wind escape your lungs, and you close your eyes to try and gasp for air--but when you open them again you’re not falling anymore.

You’re in your old bed, in your old ship--

In your husband's old ship.

It all feels so real--You can feel the softness of the sheets beneath you, smell his scent on your pillow, and feel the comforting warmth of the blankets on top of you.

But when you turn over, he’s not there. You’re alone.

You get up to look for him, but as you turn the corner you hear him call your name from behind you. You quickly whip around at the sound to see him, but the man that stands where he should be is not your husband.

In his place stands the Mandalorian. The purity of his silver armor is out of place in the hall of your old ship.

He takes a step closer to you so the two of you are mere inches apart, and reaches for both of your hands. Gently taking hold of them in his own and slowly pulling them up. Up until the tips of your fingers brush the edge of his helmet.

Staring into the darkness of his visor, you gently grip the edges and let him lead your hands higher up, slowly lifting his helmet with them--

And then you wake up. Alone in the cockpit, the familiar idle beeping of the ship slowly bringing you back to reality.

You glance over to where your helmet rests on the control panel. Staring into the emptiness of the visor, you can’t help but feel judged for what your subconscious just decided to make you experience. What the hell kind of dream even was that?

You shake your head lightly and pointedly avoid the gaze of your own helmet.

No more bacta before bed.

***

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#the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din x reader #Din x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #mando x reader #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #fanfic #sfw fanfic

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brokenbeskar · 3 years

Text

The Pact

Chapter Six of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Following a possible lead for your bounty on Canto Bight, you need a way to sneak in undetected.

A/N: Sorry for the long wait between updates! I’ve been picking up some extra work. Also, this one does end on somewhat of a cliffhanger, but not to worry! Chapter 7 is already in progress! enjoy!

“And what exactly are you planning to do once we break in?” The Mandalorian questions. The three of you were only a few hours away from Cantonica at this point. You got some intel on an underground blackmarket auction that would be happening in Canto Bight, and knew without hesitation that's where Yanu would be to sell off those crystals she stole.

The only problem now was figuring out how to get her. She’s already slipped through your fingers once, and you weren’t exactly ready for it to happen again. And the two of you, clad beskar, weren’t exactly subtle. Much less welcome in a place where criminals and underground scum bags were looking to make some quick credits.

“Haven’t gotten that far yet, we’ll figure it out when we get there.” You shrug. So far the only thing you’ve managed to do is map out the route to sneak into the place itself. Apparently Canto Bight had a pretty extensive network of underground systems where weapons dealers and blackmarket sellers could easily smuggle their items and trade. And you, after hours of searching through holomaps, found the perfect route to avoid all big traffic areas and, if you manage to pull it off, make it into the auction house without drawing any attention.

“We’re going to need a better plan than that. She’ll get away again if we draw too much attention.” He tilts his helmet in your direction without looking at you as he focuses on his flying.

“I know.” You sigh. You didn’t have a lot of options here. Perhaps you could pose as bodyguards? But for who? Not to mention Yanu would recognize the two of you right away. The beskar was far too recognizable. You couldn't be seen at all, but you know she’s too smart to be lingering around alone for you to pick her off. If only there was a way for you to become invisible…

“I’ll go alone.” You blurt out suddenly when you get the idea.

“Going alone isn’t going to change anything. They aren’t just going to let you walk in without a fight--”

“I’m leaving the armor.” You cut him off and your words seem like they cut through the air of the cockpit like a knife. And with how quickly he turns to look at you, you know he's surprised.

“She doesn’t know my face. I can sneak into the auction and blend right in, no one will know I don't belong there.” Your gaze settles on the floor of the cockpit while you explain. The idea of leaving the armor behind is terrifying. Not only would you be left totally unprotected while surrounded by people who would love nothing more to kill you, but this armor was all you had left of him. Your late husband. The light of your life, smothered out much too quickly.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” You think you heard concern in his voice, but you tell yourself that's just you projecting.

“We don’t have another option.” You remind him, “I’ll keep a commlink on me so we can keep in touch, I’ll corner her off and we’ll ambush her. I’ll try to get her cut off from the crowd so we don’t draw any unwanted attention. Keep it a clean capture.” You’re still staring at the cockpit floor as you explain your plan, using every fiber of your being to stay grounded and seem strong and unbothered by the prospect despite feeling quite the opposite.

“We can find another way.” He speaks as if he didn't even hear your plan. You finally look up to find he's turned his seat to face you completely, leaning forward slightly to meet your gaze, “You don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.”

It’s only now you’re realizing that you aren’t projecting. In fact, it’s only just now dawned on you that he’s probably the one person in the galaxy who understands you in this moment. He’s the only one who could possibly understand what it means to leave your armor behind for this. In the same way you understand him, and his creed. The same reason why you said you’re going alone, why you would never even suggest he do the same.

But at the same time, that's why you have to do it. There weren’t many options, and Canto Bight would come faster than you want. Unlike him, you could take your armor off, you only swore to keep it safe, defend it with your life. As uncomfortable as you may be working a job without it, you could.

“I’ll do it.” You finally say, after a long silence between the two of you, “But I do genuinely appreciate your consideration.” You give him a reassuring smile, and he gives you a light nod of acknowledgement.

Just as he turns back to the front of the ship, however, you interrupt him, “But you have to promise me you’ll keep it safe.”

He slowly turns back to face you again, and you give his visor a firm, steady, glare -- a warning, “I’ll go alone and leave my armor behind, but you have to agree you’ll keep it safe. This armor is everything to me. If I’m to leave it with you, then I need to be able to trust you to defend it with your life, in the same way I would my own.” You say it with such conviction. The weight of what this means to you hangs heavy on every one of your words.

“It’s a deal.”

He doesn’t even hesitate in his reply. His visor locked to your gaze when he says it, and he sounds just as resolute as you do, unwavering and determined. It fills you with confidence that he’ll uphold his promise, and the confidence you need to get you through this job.

-----------------------------------

Walking down the streets of Canto Bight in nothing but your old day clothes feels...wrong. Everything about it feels strange. There's too much wind, everything smells too strongly, not to mention how much lighter your whole body feels no longer having to bear the weight of all that beskar.

It’s not like you’ve never taken it off before. You’ll readily take off the helmet whenever you feel like it's safe enough to do so, grab a quick bite to eat or even just scratch an itch. You’ll frequently take off the entirety of the armor too, granted that's usually only in the confines of your ship while you're safely flying through hyperspace, but you take it off regardless. That's not even accounting for the fact that you used to go on hunts without any armor at all, before this armor even belonged to you. You’ve only taken to wearing the beskar for just over a year and a half, but it’s already become such a big part of you.

So you guess it shouldn’t really be a surprise that it just feels so weird to be back in your old clothes, totally exposed, with nothing but a vibroblade strapped to your thigh and a blaster on your other.

It does help that even without the beskar, you definitely don’t fit in here. Canto Bight is flashy and extravagant. A place to readily flaunt your wealth and relish in the finer things. You tried to wear your nicest clothes, but to you that was just clothes that weren’t battle worn and fit you. It’s nothing compared to the extravagance of costumes passing you by. This was a rich person's playground, and you were a bounty hunter just barely scraping by.

Luckily you're pretty good at ignoring stares at this point, but it’s definitely more difficult with how exposed you feel.

“How’s it going down there?” the Mandalorian’s voice crackles over the comlink you have strapped to your wrist. A serious downgrade from the one in your helmet.

“It’s...well, it’s going alright.” You speak into your wrist as you walk, “Should’ve brought a jacket, I’m a bit chilly. Who knew that wind was cold?” You laugh.

He gives you a small noise of acknowledgement that barely reads through the static.

“...Feels weird.” You finally confess, leaving your sincerity alone in silence for a second before chiming back in, “But I feel really light on my feet now, like I could run a whole parsec without getting tired.” You laugh again. You can’t help but try to make light of it, play it off like it's not bothering you nearly as much as it is.

That earns you a very light chuckle from him and you take it as a victory, a wide grin filling your face and allowing you to temporarily forget your discomfort.

“I almost feel naked, I haven’t worn this little clothes in ages. I usually layer up a lot, so my chestplate doesn't slide around too much.” You explain, taking comfort in talking to him, even if his responses are short. It’s almost...easy, talking with him about this. It’s probably because you know he can relate on some level. It's the one thing the both of you have in common-- well sorta.

You still don’t really know the limitations of his creed, honestly you hadn’t bothered to ask. It really wasn’t any of your business, and you figured if he felt like sharing he would. Even still, you know in his own way he gets you.

“When’s the last time you went without it?” He asks. It takes you a bit by surprise. He’s not usually one for conversation, and definitely not one to initiate. Maybe he can tell you’re taking comfort in it.

“Hmm…” You take a second to think, “If you mean like...outside the ship then probably not since I started wearing it-- or I guess, when I finally made the decision I would wear it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well uh...I knew I had to keep it. I wasn’t about to just leave it somewhere for someone else to steal, the armor was very much a part of him...but I had no idea what to do with it.” You explain, trying to remember your thought process back then. It really wasn’t that long ago, but you weren’t in a good place. All of those moments are hazy, drowned in sorrow, and shitty spotchka. “I cleaned it up the best I could and kept it safe, but there was a while where it was just kinda sitting in the hold. It hadn’t really crossed my mind to wear it honestly.”

“So what changed?” Even through the static he sounds genuinely curious.

“Well…” You clear your throat, “It’s a bit embarrassing to admit now and it’s a lot to explain. So, long story short, I was desperate for fuel and had no credits, so I took a...let’s say-- questionable job. I wore the helmet out as a way to protect my identity. Not that a mandalorian’s helmet is exactly subtle, but I wasn’t exactly thinking straight at the time…”

You let out a long sign before you continue, “I felt really guilty about it after. Like I disrespected him somehow.”

“We’ve all done things we aren’t proud of out of desperation.” His response makes you wonder what kinds of things he’s done he regrets. What has he done that he’s not proud of? What was it that made him feel desperate enough to do something regretful? For a man who seemed so put together, so absolute in his resolve--in his creed, it’s nearly impossible to imagine him ever being in the same state of low you once were.

It almost makes you wonder if it was ever his creed that was on the line. How desperate would he have to be to break that?

But you don’t dare let any of those questions leave your mouth.

“I know in my heart that he would have understood. He wouldn’t have been angry or felt disrespected at all-- in fact! He probably would have found the whole thing pretty amusing.” You allow a smile to creep back across your face at the memory of your late husband, “But that's how I made the decision to start wearing it. Felt like I needed to redeem myself somehow. Once I started wearing it--it just...it felt so right. Like that's exactly what I should have been doing the whole time.” You look up to the sky above you, looking up to pick out what stars you can through Canto Bight’s blaring city lights.

“So you kept wearing it.”

“Exactly. My reason has evolved since then--means something different to me now...but no matter what it feels right. It’s something where I know he would have never asked it of me, but if he could see me now I think it would make him happy.”

You think maybe he makes a noise of acknowledgement, but it barely reads through the static so you may have just imagined it altogether. Not that it matters, you welcome the comfortable silence that falls between the two of you as you make your way through Canto Bight backstreets.

You close your eyes as a particularly brisk breeze brushes past your cheeks, the low static of the open commlink on your wrist allowing you to fall deeper into your thoughts. If you kept your eyes closed like this, you could almost trick yourself into believing nothing has changed. You could almost pretend the armor was never yours to wear, that you were simply working a job just like you used to. And maybe, if you focused hard enough, you could forget the tragedy of your husband’s death altogether. Like he never left you.

Maybe if you waited just a few more moments...you would hear his voice breaking through the static.

“You’re coming up close to the entrance, keep your eyes peeled.” The Mandalorian’s voice ringing out instead yanks you back to reality with a heartbreaking force.

“Copy that.” Forcing yourself to stay composed, you scan your nearby surroundings as you slow down your pace. There’s hardly anyone around you now that you've made it to a more secluded backstreet. You aren’t really sure what you’re looking for until you find a grate situated on the ground just before a wall.

“Found it.” You kneel down in front of it and give it an experimental tug. Well, it's not bolted down, but it's definitely stuck. Getting to your feet while keeping a steady hold on the grate, you prop a foot onto the wall in front of you for leverage. You take a breath and give it a strong yank--

it doesn’t budge.

“Dank Farrik!” You grunt out as you strain to continue to tug on the grate.

“Need my help already?” His mocking tone only fuels your frustration.

“Shut up, Shiny!” You growl through clenched teeth.

You let out a surprised yelp when the grate suddenly pulls loose and sends you stumbling backwards. Thank the maker you didn’t land on your ass.

“I got it.” You toss the grate to the side and start to climb into what you assume to be a ventilation system of some kind. It...definitely looked bigger on the holomap. You were expecting to maybe have to duck a bit at most, but with how low you’re having to crouch to make your way through, you’re thinking it might almost be easier to crawl your way to the auction house.

“Remind me again why I agreed to take this job?” You grunt into the comm as you struggle your way through the tunnel.

“Probably the sixty thousand credits you were offered.” He tosses back to you, and you can hear the baby babbling in the background, probably getting into trouble.

“Y’know I’m starting to think sixty thousand isn’t enough for how much trouble we’re going through.” You make a point to strain the words through your teeth, make sure your struggle is obvious, even if it was a bit dramatic.

“You really think we would have been offered sixty thousand each if it was gonna be easy?” He grunts back out in between shuffles and the baby giggling. You hear a quiet but stern “Knock that off!” and you know for sure the child is up to no good.

“Funny, you’re giving me a lot of sass for someone sitting cozy in the cockpit while I do all the work. I think I deserve a higher cut.” You tease.

“I’ve been your personal taxi service for this entire job. I deserve a higher cut just for having to put up with you.” He deadpans in return, and the implication takes you by surprise.

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” you nearly shriek at him, your voice climbing several octaves

“Exactly what I said. Turn left at the split ahead.”

You grumble curses under your breath as you continue your way through the tunnel.

“Hey, at least I’m better company than the kid.” You try to reason, tilting your head a bit even though he can't see it.

“Debatable.”

“Wow!” You gasp out, insulted at his insinuation that Grogu, an absolute demon of a child, is more enjoyable to be around than you. “Well I, for one, think I make excellent company.” you chide back.

You hear him let out the faintest of chuckles and you can’t help the smile that breaks out across your face. The banter between the two of you continues as he navigates you through the tunnels. It’s such a stark contrast from how you were back on Coruscant, and you definitely prefer it this way. It makes the whole thing so much more tolerable--almost enjoyable. Before you know it, you’ve already made it to where you need to be in what felt like no time at all.

You’re peering through the vent beneath you, checking to see if it's safe before you pull off the cover and jump down. According to the holomaps you routed earlier, this should be a backroom of the auction house. It’s connected to the main hall, but secluded enough that there's no reason for any patrons to be wandering in or out.

You can never be too careful though.

“Seems clear.” You whisper into the commlink strapped to your wrist, “I’m gonna drop down. I’ll keep my end of the comm on.”

“Copy that. I’ll be standing by if you need me.” You hear him click off his end of the comm and without the low static; everything is painfully quiet. Being alone in the silence makes your feelings of exposure and nervousness return.

You take a deep breath as you remove the cover from the vent and move it beside you. You slowly lean down and peek your head out cautiously to do one last sweep before dropping down into the room below you.

It’s some kind of storage room. It’s filled floor to ceiling with black market wares. Most everything is covered with thick fabrics, probably to both protect the items and discourage prying eyes before the auction even starts. It’s dead silent in here other than the muffled ambience of the patrons in the room next door and smells heavily of stale dust. You slowly make your way through the maze of items, work your way around stacked crates, and large weapons--too big to be stored in a box, until you make it to the door at the far end of the room.

Hitting the control panel on the wall, you're immediately hit with the full sound from all of the people in the auction house before you. Or maybe it's more of an...auction room? It's a large spacious round room gently illuminated by warm incandescent light from scattered lanterns. The warm light highlighting the wide array of individuals idling about the space while they wait for the auction to start.

You try to peer through the crowd without drawing any attention as you snake around the back wall, searching for any glimpse of your quarry. You think her bright pink skin would be easy to spot, but you don’t catch sight of her anywhere.

You definitely feel less out of place here. There's a few extravagant outfits here and there, but there's also plenty of others who are dressed in a similar fashion as you. Bounty hunters and spice runners probably looking for their chance at some new equipment.

You lean casually against the wall, crossing your arms in front of you as you watch for any sign of Yanu. Trying your best to blend in as much as possible.

It works. Better than you were expecting. No one even bats an eye at you, you might as well have blended in completely with the wall, faded entirely from the crowd, nothing about you stranding out in the slightest. Honestly it’s nice, you could definitely get used to this. The only problem is, there's still no sign of Yanu, and you’re starting to get antsy.

You’re really missing the assistance of your helmet's HUD, the ability to easily zoom in and out, to focus in on specific conversations, and highlight certain faces from the crowd. All of that was impossible without it. You’re straining to pick up bits of conversation here and there, but it's difficult with all of the white noise from the rest of the bustling in the room. What you do manage to pick up is completely irrelevant to you, things people are looking forward to buying, who to watch out for in a bidding war, how much money they won or lost betting at the racetracks or at slot machines, or what's rumored to be up for auction later.

You’re just beginning to lose hope and wonder if you and your tin man hunting partner had wasted your time altogether when you catch something about “Hutts”, and “Rare jedi crystals”, and “Beautiful pink woman”, and you immediately perk up.

You quickly kick off the wall from where you were leaning and start to navigate through the crowd. Okay. so she was definitely here, good!

But....Hutts? That’s definitely bad news. No, that's terrible news. You need to comm that chromedome and tell him what you heard as soon as possible.

You part your way through the room as fast as you can without arising suspicious, quickly making your way past patrons, gently nudging past them, to cross the great expanse of the space.

You hit open a door when you make it to the other side, and immediately shut it behind you. Making your way through a mostly empty hallway aside from a few stragglers, and finding another door to a hopefully empty room so you can safely communicate the situation with the Mandalorian.

As soon as you get the door open and shut it behind you, you toggle your comm as you quickly stride your way farther into what appears to be another storage room.

“Hey, Mand--” You freeze and cut yourself off immediantly when it registers that you hear other hushed voices in the back of the room.

You take a moment to try and decipher what's being said, but you can’t make out anything from this distance. You duck down behind the clutter and slowly sneak closer to the source.

You’re getting closer, you can tell because the volume of the voices is definitely louder, but you’re still struggling to make out what's being said. It’s not until you’re nearly right next to them that you realize half the conversation isn't even in basic. It’s huttese.

“Look I already told you, the crystals are yours, I don’t care what you want with them.” A female voice breaks through the conversation much louder than the others as you cautiously peek your head up to peer over the crate you're hiding behind.

Sure enough, you’re met with the sight of the pink skin of your quarry ahead of you, leaning against some clutter as she addresses a large redbrown, seemingly unimpressed hutt standing before her. He has what you assume to be a translator next to him, and two guards on either side of him.

“But before I give them to you, I need a favor.” Yanu continues, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

The oversized slug grunts out back to her in an annoyed manner, and you hardly know any huttese, so you're thankful when the translator turns to Yanu and begins to address her.

“Zambu wishes to know what kind of favor requires you to go back on your originally agreed upon deal.”

“I told you! I’m not going back on my deal!” Yanu nearly shouts back in irritation, pointing an accusatory finger at the hutt before her.

She sighs defeatedly and crosses her arms in front of her again, “I’ll give you half off our original agreed upon price. How does that sound?”

The translator looks to Zambu, who gives Yanu a satisfied nod while replying in huttese.

“Zambu says he will consider a new deal with the agreement of a new price.” The translator relays back to Yanu in basic.

“Good because I have two Mandalorian bounty hunters after me and I need them dealt with as soon as possible. You want those crystals? Keep me out of carbonite.” Your heart sinks at her words. The last thing you need is the hutts after you. This was all kinds of bad.

The hutt and the translator exchange some words before the translator turns back, folding their hands together at their waist.

“Zambu accepts the terms of the new deal, under the agreement that he gets to keep the armor.”

Yanu lets out a hearty laugh, “Keep it! I don’t give a bantha’s ass about the beskar. Just show it to me as proof you dealt with them when we make our exchange.”

Fuck. You need to comm the Mandalorian--and now.

You’re just about to sneak away when you suddenly feel someone come up and grab you from behind. You let out a yelp of surprise as they haul you out from your hiding spot, and before you know it all attention is on you.

You don’t know how you didn’t see him earlier, but apparently Zambu had a fifth bodyguard around, who managed to catch you eavesdropping, and was now roughly hauling you forward in front of your newfound audience. You struggle slightly under his unrelenting grasp until he wrangles you so he's got both your arms held behind your back, and pushes you down to your knees in front of the imposing hutt.

Yanu straightens up from her spot and tilts her head at you, looking you up and down and you immediately panic. It takes you a second to remember the whole point of you coming down here alone and armorless. She doesn’t recognize you, without your helmet she has no idea who you are.

She lets a devilish smile spread across her face, “Well, well, well. What do we have here?” She sounters her way in front of you to get a better look and leans forward just enough so she's closer to your level, but still high enough you have to tilt your head up to meet her gaze, “Eavesdropping on hutt business? You must have a death wish.”

You remain silent as you scowl up at her, trying not to let your fear get the best of you. She may not know who you are, but you knew in your heart you were out of options regardless. There was no way for you to get to your blaster or your blade with your arms being held back like this. Besides, even if you could, you were outnumbered and would be quickly cut down before you could manage anything. No matter the scenario, the outcome would be the same.

You don’t flinch when she reaches for your face, grasping either side of your jaw tightly with one hand to tilt your head up even farther towards her.

“Who do you work for?” She questions as she tilts your face for her to inspect. You glare daggers directly into her violet eyes, refusing to utter a single sound.

Neither of you break eye contact when you hear the powerful hutt behind her mutter something in his native language before the translator speaks up, “Zambu wishes to know what you think should be done with her, Yanu.”

She hums low in her throat as she considers. It’s easy for you to see now why the stranger you ran into in that Coruscant alleyway fell in love with her. She was unmistakably stunning, every piece of her was utterly captivating. Even as she was gripping your jaw like this, holding your fate in her deadly hands, you couldn't help but admire her. From her smooth, flawless pink skin, long glossy red hair, to her sharp and intimidating eyes, every bit of her was perfect.

Her grip on your jaw tightens and her wicked smile grows, “I think anyone who tries to steal information, especially from Zambu, deserves to be taught a lesson. Don’t you?” She was just as dangerous as she was beautiful, and you were about to find that out first hand. She gives Zambu a wink over her shoulder without releasing your face, and Zambu roars with laughter in return before speaking.

“Zambu trusts you to take care of it.” The translator nods to Yanu before turning to leave with Zambu, leaving the guards behind.

Yanu turns back to you, her smile quickly fading as she practically throws your head from her grasp. You don’t even have time to right yourself before she rounds back and kicks you right in the side, knocking all the wind from your lungs and sending you flying out of the body guards grasp and onto the floor.

You’re gasping and trying to push yourself off the floor when she kicks you again right in the gut, the force of it sending you rolling in the other direction, causing you to fold in on yourself from the pain. You desperately clutch your middle while you curl into a tight ball to protect yourself best you can from any further blows. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes and every breath is a struggle.

You hear Yanu let out a dark chuckle from where she stands above you, her footsteps like thunder in your ears as she advances closer to you. You curl into yourself even tighter, expecting her to kick you again, but it never comes. Instead she leans over your crumpled figure on the floor. Maker, you must look pathetic. “Oh you poor little thing, we aren’t even close to being done, and look at you.” She chuckles again darkly and nudges you with her foot before backing away and turning to address the guards Zambu left behind, “Go on! Earn your paychecks! Teach her a lesson.”

Knowing this is your last chance to do anything, you quickly muster up all of your remaining strength, and pick yourself up off the floor and onto your knees. You go to reach for your blaster--

You cry out in pain--just as you get a grip on your weapon a blaster bolt makes contact with your thigh where your holster is, blowing it right off your hip. Thankfully the pain in your hand is nonexistent, a tingling numbness consuming it instead.

Not so thankfully, you’re not sure you have a hand anymore.

You only get a second to look down at the offending area to see blood gushing from both your hand and your thigh where you were hit, before you hear Yanu tut-tutting.

“You really thought you were going to get away with that didn’t you?” She shakes her head to shame you, lowering her blaster to her side and leaning back against a nearby wall to watch the show that was about to take place before her.

The guards move to rush towards you. You shakily grab hold of your vibroblade, holding it out in front of you in a reverse grip while you try your best to get to your feet with an injured leg. You realize your odds are slim. You, equipt with nothing but a mediocre vibroblade, barely able to stand upright, while five guards are moving to surround you with long range spears. It’s almost laughable.

But, if this is how you were going to go out, then you would go out swinging. Fighting until your last breath, because you know that's what he would have wanted.

If only determination was the only thing needed to get you through battle. It’s almost embarrassing how quickly you go down. When the guards rush you, you’re able to block a couple blows with your pathetic excuse for a weapon, but being as outnumbered as you were, a guard easily manages to make contact with you from behind, sending a paralysing shock of electricity through your body and sending you collapsing right back to the floor.

They give you a few more shocks for good measure, and you scream out in pain with each one. Electricity coursing through your bones as you convulse on the floor, the sting from each shock lingering over every inch of you. Yanu says something, but you don’t hear it. At this point your body is giving out despite your will to fight.

You’re not ready to give up yet. No, you have to keep fighting. You writhe on the floor, trying to figure out which way is up so you can lift yourself back to your feet, but suddenly there's an explosion above you disorienting you further. The blast of it is deafening, and the whole room rumbles violently as a portion of the ceiling collapses.

Rubble crashes down around you, filling the room with a fine dust. You hear the guards yelling, scrambling with the sudden interruption, and with the way one of them is screaming you think maybe he got injured from the blast. You want to know what's going on, so manage to lift up just enough to see the hazy, yet familiar glint of silver of the Mandalorian crouched down in the center of it all, bracing himself from where you assume he dropped.

Maker above, you have never been happier to see him. You look over to where Yanu was, to find her staring in an odd mix of confusion, fear, and anger. She locks her eyes with yours through the falling debris, uncontrollable rage filling her features as she glares daggers into you, finally realizing who you are.

She puffs her chest in rage, and quickly draws her blaster, firing a few quick rounds at your partner as she begins to make her retreat. The mandalorian blocks the oncoming shots with a lifted vambrace before he's rushing to where you are on the floor.

“Can you stand?” He quickly asks you, grabbing your arm and attempting to pull you to your feet.

You try your best to get your footing, but your knees give out beneath you and you fall limply onto him. He holds you up the best he can, trying to quickly maneuver you so he can support the majority of your weight. Once he gets you situated, he goes to make a break for it, run the both of you out towards the auction room, but before he can even get one step in, both of you are once again surrounded by the guards.

He’s quick to draw his blaster, even while working to support you against him, he’s a deadly shot. You’re barely hanging onto consciousness at this point, but you witness him manage to shoot down two of the guards. An impressive feat considering his limited mobility. Unfortunately it’s not enough, and with one quick tap from one of the guards' electrified spears to his beskar, the both of you are tumbling back to the ground.

He drops you, but manages to catch himself on his knees, fighting the paralyzing effects of the electricity with every fiber of his being. You barely notice the blurry glint of light reflecting off his helmet as he looks up to the hole in the ceiling, before you feel him reaching for you and tugging you back into his arms.

He barely gets you in his grasp, and is moving to stand upright when you hear him let out an agonized yell through his helmet's vocoder. He collapses right back down onto his knee and all you can hear is his pained breathing in your ear.

His grip on you tightens like a vice, you hear him activate a button on his vambrace and before you can even register what's going on, the both of you are rocketing upwards through the hole in the ceiling he appeared from. The two of you collide with the edge of the opening--

And then everything goes black. *** Previous - MASTER - Next

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din x reader #din x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x you #mando x reader #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #fanfic

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brokenbeskar · 3 years

Text

Repairs

Chapter Five of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 11.7k

Summary: You and the Mandalorian make an emergency landing on Utrost and need to find a way to pay for repairs

A/N: This one ended up a bit longer than I had originally intended, but I had a ton of fun writing it! Hopefully you all enjoy! <3

You and the Mandalorian hadn’t spoken another word to each other while in the confines of space. You’ve simmered down quite a bit since the other day. You’re still mad--of course you are! you had every reason to be. Only instead of a burning rage, it's subsided into a simple distaste for the man you have to share the confines of this ship with. You get the feeling he probably feels the same way.

The two of you weren’t avoiding each other by any means, neither of you were that petty, but the both of you definitely made a point not to linger around the other for too long. If he was in the cockpit, you would spend your time in the hull, and vice versa. You were purely co-existing with each other, silently passing by each other without a word. There was no direct malice by it, but there wasn’t any friendliness either. You were simply co-workers. Co-workers who didn’t like each other, but needed one another to get the job done.

You’ll admit, you’re a little embarrassed by how you acted the other day. Not that it was unjustified-- oh no, without a doubt, it was definitely justified.

Even still, you usually have a pretty good handle on your emotions. To completely blow up on him like that wasn’t something you would have expected from yourself. It's not what you're used to.

None of this was what you were used to, if you’re being honest.

Working a job with someone else--someone other than your husband. It feels strange. Everything has felt strange since he died. Nothing feels quite right anymore, and the shit show that took place on Coruscant? Just feels like another log thrown into the burning pile of things that have gone wrong for you.

You miss him.

Everyday you do, but especially when things go wrong--when things get hard. Especially now that you're stuck in the confines of this ship while you limp your way to Utrost. There's nothing to do other than wait.

You have the kid to keep you busy sometimes, but when he’s sleeping, or spending time with his metal clad guardian, you’re left with nothing but your wandering mind. Left with nothing to do but think of him. Letting your thoughts transport you to a simpler and happier time. When nothing else in the galaxy mattered so long as you had each other.

You fully immerse yourself in reliving the little things. The sound of his voice--both how it sounded running through the filter of his helmet, but how smooth and utterly rich it sounded without it. The way he sounded calling out for you, adoration lining every inch of his voice, like he was falling in love with your name for the first time everytime he said it. The way it would sound when he would first wake up, gravelly and warm. The way he would let out a soft hum as he pulled you tight against him--the warmth of his strong arms wrapping around you.

Maker, what you would give to be in his arms again. To be comfortably wrapped up in his embrace after all of this...he would make it feel like nothing bad had ever happened to begin with. What you would give to have him comfort you, tell you everything was going to work out, and tell you everything would be okay, just like he used to.

***

You’re still shaking as you run a sterilizing agent over his wounds. Your heart is still beating just as fast as it was, despite you being back in the safe confines of your ship. He’s watching over you silently as you slowly and tenderly clean the blood, dirt, and grime from his damaged skin. He winces slightly when you apply pressure, and you immediately halt your actions and shoot him a worried look, your heart pounding against your chest. The last thing you want to do is hurt him. You’ve done enough of that today…

“It’s okay,” He reassures you, bringing his free hand up to lightly cup your cheek, gently running his thumb along the high of your cheekbone, “I’m okay.” He offers you a warm smile, but it just makes your gut wrench.

“No thanks to me…,” You murmur, dropping your gaze back down to his injury, as you resume your work.

“You’re not the one who came at me with a vibroblade.” He lets out a chuckle, “Not that I would be opposed if you did, could be sexy.” He shrugs lightly. More jokes. It’s always jokes with him, but you don’t find it funny. No, this was serious to you.

When you don’t give any sort of response in return like usual, he knows something's off. Of course he had noticed you were shaken up, but he wrongly assumed it was lingering adrenaline from the incident. He reaches out and lightly catches the wrist of your working hand, halting you from continuing to work on his wounds.

“What’s wrong, Sen’ika?” He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze.

You tighten your grip on the sanitizing wipe in your hand, “This isn’t the time for jokes.” You spit out seriously, “You’re injured. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse!” You can’t even look at his face, you just glance over all his injuries. With each one you see, guilt pools in your chest, the sharp pain of it weighing heavy as you breathe. “This is my fault...you got hurt because of me…” You trail off as you bring your free hand up to lightly trail your fingers over the skin next to the sizable gash across his upper arm.

“Yeah, I got hurt, but it's not that bad...and it’s definitely not your fault, sweetheart.” He tugs at your wrist, bringing up to his face so he can trail tiny kisses along the side of it.

“But it is!” You yank your wrist back from his gentle grasp, “I messed up! I made a mistake! You had to come and save me, because I fucked it all up! Again! And this time--this time you got hurt! Maybe---maybe I’m just not cut out for this…” You trail off at the end defeatedly.

“Ner laar sennar…,” He breathes out sweetly as he reaches out for you, placing his hands firmly on the sides of your shoulders, “We all make mistakes. I knew the risk I was taking when I rushed in like that. You’re too hard on yourself. You’ve only just started this job a few months ago, and yet you’re already better than most in the guild. You’re a very impressive and capable bounty hunter.” He rubs his thumb on your shoulder softly while he speaks, and it immediately puts you at ease. He had a point, he only taught you to fire a blaster and wield a vibroblade not even a year ago. Skills you never would have even imagined yourself capable of doing before you met him.

“...Thanks,” You finally look back up to him and give him a weak smile after a beat of silence, “A Mandalorian taught me.”

“That’s my girl!” He beams at you brightly, then suddenly he's hauling you up from the ground where you're kneeling, and pulling you down against him from where he’s sitting in the pilot’s seat. The positioning is awkward and uncomfortable, so you shuffle your knees up onto the seat and around his hips the best you can. He loosens his grip on you only enough so you can wiggle into a more comfortable position in his grasp, wrapping your arms around him, before he's squeezing you again.

You let out a contentful sigh as you nuzzle into the side of his neck, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair while his other slowly runs along your back. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“Bounty hunting is not an easy or glamorous job. Sometimes things go wrong, sometimes mistakes happen, and sometimes we get hurt. It’s part of it.” He buries his face into your hair, and takes a deep breath before planting another kiss to your temple, “But there’s always going to be another job, another bounty, and our wounds will heal with time. All we can do is move forward and press on...but, mesh’la?” The hand he’s been gentling running down your back back stills for a moment, pressing flat against the middle of it, “As long as you’re here, by my side, in my arms…,” He gives you a firm squeeze, “ just know that it’s all going to be okay.”

And he was right. You know the risk that comes with the job. You still feel bad about what happened, but he was okay. You were okay. All you can do is move forward and press on. And with the way he was holding you against him so tight, his face pressed into your hair, yours in the side of his neck, the way his heart beat felt against your own, you had no doubt in your mind that everything was going to be just fine.

***

But instead you were alone. Sitting on the cold ground in the hull of a ship that wasn’t yours. The metal beneath you, a glaring reminder of the harsh reality you were living in instead of the fantasy you could lose yourself in forever. You hold your helmet--his helmet--tight to your chest, and you curl around it, wishing it could bring even a fraction of the same comfort that he always gave you.

You miss him.

--------------------------

Landing on Utrost couldn’t have come any quicker. The second you felt the ship make its clumsy landing in it’s assigned hangar, you practically jumped to your feet, rushing to find your go-bag. The thought of finally being off this ship--finally getting some fresh air--and maker, some real food. Ration packs were fine most of the time, but after only being able to eat them for weeks? You’re ready for something else.

You hear the Mandalorian descend the ladder as you click your helmet on and hit a button on the hull wall to lower the ramp. You look over in his direction, and see he has the baby tucked away in a bag on the side of his hip. You can’t help but smile to yourself with the way The child’s big eyes barely peek over the top and his big green ears stick out the sides. You almost want to ask if you can take him with you, treat him to some local street food you’re positive he would love. But with the way things have been between you and the powerful man carrying him, you don’t bother.

When the ramp finally lowers, you immediately make your stride down, trying to contain your excitement of finally being off the ship. When your feet hit the solid ground of the hangar beneath you, you can’t help but raise your arms above you and let out a much needed stretch. You already feel lightyears better than you did before, and you haven’t even stepped into the sun yet.

The hangar bay you got assigned to was way bigger than it needed to be considering your ship's size. It could have easily fit three more of them and still have some room to easily move about the round space. It was half enclosed, a large rounded metal covering half of the hanger and engulfing it in shade, the other half open to allow for landing. There were parts scattered about in what you assume to be an unorganized fashion. Platform lifts and transport carts are abandoned throughout the area. It looked like this place hadn’t been used in ages.

You barely notice when an exhausted looking mechanic slowly makes his way across the hangar as the Mandalorian descends the ramp behind you. He’s punching something into the holopad in his arm as he strolls over, his goggles pushed up onto his head, pulling his hair up into a wiry mess behind them. He feels so out of place. With a bay this size you would be expecting more mechanics, droids, anything. Instead it’s just one. Dragging his feet as he makes his way over to you. It’s only when he gets closer you realize how young he looks.

He looks up from his holopad with a heavy sigh when he sees the state of the ship. You turn to take a look yourself and---stars, that’s bad. This is the first time you’ve been able to actually see the damage. Large scorch marks plastered heavily across the entire length of it, along with huge tears in the metal. It was a disaster.

“Looks like you two got yourselves in quite the mess.” He drawls out as he steps closer to further inspect the ship. “Whatever you hit, it did some pretty serious damage. Surprised you made it here in one piece.” He continues absently as he punches some notes into his holopad.

“How soon can you have it repaired by?” The Mandalorian next to you questions, and the mechanic scoffs in response.

“If my droids were still up and running? I could have had her ready for you by tomorrow night. But since it's just me now, It’ll take me a few days.”

“How long is a few days?” The mechanic turns to stare him down, glaring into his visor. “A few days. And it will be a few days more if you decide to be a pain in the ass.” He quickly turns back to continue assessing the damage. You notice something, just barely--out of the corner of your eye, you have to turn slightly to get a better look, but you notice the Mandalorian’s fists tighten at his sides. His shoulders may even tense slightly, but you aren’t sure. It might just be your mind playing tricks on you.

Up until this point you truly thought he was unbothered by this whole thing. Like his ship getting damaged and the bounty getting away was no big deal, just another day. He’s always so stoic, so composed--like all of the time. And he almost never talks, so it’s not like he could give it away verbally. It’s only now you’re realizing, from just the slightest flex of his fists, that the illusion of his helmet--having never seen his face--almost had you believe he was completely imperturbable. Like...you knew he was irritated the day you left Coruscant, but on the days that followed it never actually occurred to you that he might be just as angry and pissed off as you were about the whole thing.

He was.

He was just much better at hiding it than you were.

“Alright. Looks like repairs are gonna cost ya forty thousand.” He doesn’t even flinch when he tells you the amount, like it's no big deal, tapping loudly once on the holopad to finalize the estimate.

You choke.

The Mandalorian whips around so fast you’re worried he’s going to give the baby whiplash.

“Forty thousand?!” You shout it louder than you mean to. You’re just in utter disbelief at the amount. He must have made a mistake--there's no way. That was way too much. That can’t be right at all.

“That's what I said.” The mechanic taps the side of his holopad impatiently.

“Repairs are cheaper on Coruscant.” The Mandalorian snaps out.

“Then feel free to fly back to Coruscant.”

“But I don’t understand, what exactly is costing that much?” You question anxiously. You clearly needed these repairs if you were to ever end up off this planet and back on the hunt, but where in the galaxy were you supposed to find that many credits?

“Lets see…” he starts scrolling through his holopad, listing off the repairs he’s taken note of for your estimate, “You’ve got a fuel leak, hyperdrive’s got some serious damage, gonna have to be replaced all together, right thruster damage, I assume your not running any higher than 40% efficiency, Got some busted power lines, and you’re gonna need a ton of rewiring, not to mention your reflector shields are damaged. Then we’ve got all the body damage to worry about.” He shakes his head to himself, “S’gonna be a lot of work and like I said, someone went and damaged all my droids so it’s just me now. Damn thugs…” He murmurs the last bit to himself quietly, but it piques your interest.

“Thugs?” He just looks at you with pure hesitation in his eyes, like he so desperately wants to tell you everything but there's something holding him back.

“Forty thousand for the repairs. Pay up or find someone else to repair your ship.” He repeats shortly. He goes to turn away, tucking his holopad into a holder on his side.

“These thugs the reason your prices are so high?”

He scoffs, “You really think I would be chasing away what little business I get with prices this high by choice?” He shakes his head with a sigh, “A group of spice runners moved in a couple months ago, been terrorizing the whole town since they got here. At first they were just using it as a way to transfer product, but then they got violent. They run the whole town now. You pay their prices, and do as they say, or you end up dead.”

You settle back on your heels. Straighten out your shoulders and stand tall, resting your hands on your belt and tilt your helmet in his direction, a clever, perfect little plan forming in your brain.

“How much would repairs be if--let's say...those spice runners weren’t a problem anymore?” You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly and you notice the Mandalorian turn his helmet in your direction. He clearly knows what you're getting at. At the same time the mechanic bursts into laughter, as if that's the funniest joke he's heard since the solstice.

“If you could find a way to take care of Rrollesh and his gang? On maker, I'll give you your repairs for free!” He laughs his whole way through it, clearly not taking your proposition seriously.

You on the other hand? Looks like you just landed yourself a job.

“Where can I find them?”

The mechanic’s laughter fades and he locks eyes with your visor in a questioning manner, only just now realizing you’re being serious. “I mean, you take a quick walk around town you’re sure to run into them at some point. They don’t like strangers. Most days they play sabacc at the cantina towards the end of town.”

“Of course they do.” You give the mechanic a firm grip on the shoulder, “You get started on those repairs, I’ll take care of the rest.” You give his shoulder a couple pats before turning towards the silent armored man next to you.

“I’m going to go check things out. You should take the kid to get some real food. He’s probably more sick of ration packs than I am.” You can’t help but let out a small sigh at the realization that getting yourself some good food might have to wait. Just your luck.

“Going alone?”

“I think I can handle it. Besides, I’m the one who took the job.” You shrug, already turning to make your leave.

“Let me know if you need backup”

“Sure thing tin can” you call back to him with a dismissive wave of your hand as you continue your way out of the hangar.

--------------

Every step to the cantina was torture. By the time you finally got there and settled into a booth you almost completely forgot why you were there. All you could think about was food.

Street vendors were tempting you at every corner, their sizzling goods reminding you exactly what you were missing.

Every wiff you would catch through your helmet made your headspin. Sweet freshly baked pastries, smoky grilled meats, not to mention all kinds of exotic fruits--half of which you’ve never seen before, but looked delicious all the same. It all just made your stomach cry out and your need for real--fresh--delicious food only grow exponentially with every step.

You settle further into your seat, propping a knee up on the edge of the table. Tapping a finger a couple of times on the top of it where your hand rests. You let out a light huff of air. Hopefully the kid was having a good time right now. You can imagine his little cheeks stuffed to the brim with whatever his metal clad guardian would give him. The way his little hands would probably be already reaching for more before he even finished chewing, that greedy little bug.

You’re beyond lost in your thoughts you don’t even notice the sudden shadow looming over you. It’s not until the violent BANG of a vibroblade being stabbed threateningly into the top of your table catches your attention and you realize you’re being crowded around. You look at the blade blankly, and slowly follow it up the strong arm of the stranger holding it.

You lock your visor to the face of one very sizable Trandoshan. A large and gnarly looking scar splitting across his entire sandy scaled face, clouding one of his eyes in its path.

“Mandalorian…” He hisses out, deep and guttural, as a sly smirk breaks out revealing large sharp teeth, “What brings you to my bar?”

You lean back in the booth, this must be that Rrollesh the mechanic was talking about. And if he wasn't, well you get the feeling he could definitely take you to him. You look slightly to your left, to take note of the various others crowding around you. Five of them, all boxing you into your booth, leaving you no escape. It's an interesting mix of smugglers to say the least. None look nearly as impressive as the clear leader in front of you, but you don’t doubt they would put up a good fight.

The scarred Trandoshan pulls his blade out from the table, pulling your attention back to him.

“I like your armor...Beskar goes for a lot these days.” He growls out lowly, pointing his blade in your direction.

“Always does.” You reply coolly, “Mandalorian steel is one of the most durable materials, and very rare. Nearly impossible to get your hands on.”

“Then you know why I want yours.” He inches his blade towards one of your pauldrons, close enough so he can press the tip of it against your metal, and it takes every fiber of your very being not to rip his damn arm off right then and there. His smirk grows wider and there's a dark chuckling from his goons next to you, that you choose to ignore. Keeping your visor locked to his eyes, trying to keep your relaxed composure, despite the obvious tension that's building.

“Mine’s in bad shape.” You shrug finally after a moment of silence, “But if you’re interested in Beskar I have a proposition that might interest you.”

“Do you seem like you’re in a position to be making deals right now?”

“You seem like a smart guy,” you lie, “And I happen to know someone with a full set of Beskar probably worth twice what mine is.” The offer comes out of your mouth before you even realize what you're doing, but you're hoping he takes the bait.

The Trandoshan hums dark and grovely in his throat before silently taking a seat in the booth opposite to you. “Keep going” He encourages. Bingo.

“I’m here on a job, I’m hunting a Mandalorian. He escaped from me on Coruscant, but had to make an emergency landing here after the damage I did to his ship. He’s dangerous. Heavily armed, and in a full suit of freshly forged Beskar. One of the most skilled fighters I’ve ever gone against.” You move to rest your arms on the back of the booth, trying your best to seem as relaxed as possible while you lie straight out of your ass. You’re not even sure what you’re doing yet, just kind of making shit up as you go.

“What exactly are you asking of me?” He leans forward in his seat squinting at you, still holding his blade.

“If you and your men help me catch my quarry, you can take his armor.”

“I thought beskar belonged to the Mandalorians? Wouldn’t that be going against your own kind?”

You shake your head dismissively, “I’m not a Mandalorian. I don’t care what happens to it so long as I get paid for my work.”

He gives you a disbelieving look with a tilt of his head.

“Stole it off a dead guy.” you say nonchalantly as you notion to your armor with both hands, without moving your arms from their place on the back of the booth.

He lets out a hearty laugh, “I like you” he says waving his blade back in your direction, “I’ll help you catch your Mandalorian.” he nods with a smile, “what's your plan?”

---------------------------

“Mandalorian, you there?”

“Need backup?” His voice crackles through the static of the comm

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?” He asks, suspicious of your ambiguous answer.

“I found Rrollesh. Well, he found me I guess, we struck a deal.”

“A deal?” “I told him if he helped me kill you he could have your armor” You confess bluntly.

There's a beat of silence, and you’re almost worried he’s going to hang up on you.

“You what?” He finally asks

“It’s not like it sounds.” You reassure him, but after you’re met with nothing but silence in return you continue, “We made a plan to ambush you tonight--”

“You’re not helping your case.” He cuts you off abruptly.

“Just listen! We made a plan to ambush you tonight, but what's going to happen instead is we’re going to ambush them. I’m going to turn against them and you’re going to help me take them out.” you sound more confident than you feel explaining your half-baked whim of a plan, but you’re hoping he’ll go along with it. Your only other real option if he decides not to go along with it is to show up guns blazing and hope for the best, which didn’t seem ideal.

“Don’t you think they’re planning the same thing?” He sounds dubious at best, but the fact he’s not outwardly declining gives you a spark of confidence.

“Oh, I know they are, the difference is they need me to help take you out. They probably plan to kill me after I help kill you. So if we beat them to it, we have nothing to worry about.” You shrug despite him not being able to see it.

“How many are there?”

“No clue. There were six at the cantina including Rrollesh himself, but he said he’s bringing more.”

“Where are you planning this ambush?”

“I told them I would lure you to the middle of town, they're going to hide and try to surround you once you get there. Box you in. The second they make the jump for you, that's when I’ll turn on them.”

“Should be easy enough.” His words are like honey in your ears, instant relief fills your entire body.

“My thoughts exactly. Start heading down in three hours, I’ll have to meet back up with Rrollesh and his men and I don’t want to be seen with you until then.” “Copy that.”

You’re about to turn off the comm and get ready to meet back with Rrollesh, but you hesitate. “Oh, before I forget!” You call out quickly before either of you can disconnect.

“What is it?”

“Try not to shoot me this time, tin can.” You joke, your smirk almost audible in your voice.

“Try to communicate with me before you jump out from some crates and then maybe we have a deal. No promises though.” You hear his commlink click off the line. You know he was joking back, but something about his wording makes you freeze up. You sit there, alone with the static of your open comm ringing in your ear with the sudden realization. You keep replaying what he just said over and over in your head…

“Try to communicate with me before you jump out from some crates and then maybe we have a deal.”

“Try to communicate with me…”

“Try to communicate…”

Somehow, it’s only now that it hits you. This whole time you were blaming everything about what happened on Coruscant on the Mandalorian. This whole time, everything went wrong because of the things he did. Because he was an idiot, because he didn’t know any better. He kept getting in your way because he just couldn’t help but be obnoxious.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

You kept getting in each other’s way because neither of you had bothered to communicate. You mistakenly assumed he was the one to speak to the jeweler because you never bothered to ask him. Your bounty escaped through the window because you didn’t tell him what was going on until she already started to escape. You got shot because you didn’t bother to tell him your plan to flank her, and just jumped out in front of his shot.

What happened on Coruscant was just as much your fault as it was his. And not because you weren’t good enough, or because he was stupid and didn’t know what he was doing, but because the two of you were bad at communicating with each other. You were too busy working against him instead of with him.

Maker, you were a fool.

All those insults you slung at him should have also been said to yourself. Now you’re really embarrassed. The realization of this should have come to you way sooner. Were you really so prideful you hadn’t noticed? So cocky in your own abilities, you were blind to your faults?

No, that's not it at all. In fact, you realize, it’s probably the exact opposite. You struggled immensely every step of the way on that job. You felt so inadequate, so mediocre, so second-rate. In the height of your self consciousness you lashed out at him. You were blinded not by your pride, but by your shame. Your fear that you weren’t good enough, and he would be able to see that, that anyone would be able to see that.

You feel incredibly guilty now. Down right bad. A sinking in the pit of your belly that almost makes you nauseous. You definitely owe him an apology. Whether or not he wants one, you owe it to him, even if only to clear your own conscience.

For now though, you’ve got a job to finish. And you’re going to make sure you do a damn good job finishing it.

-------------------------------------

“Ah! You made it!” Rrollesh calls out to you as you stroll out into the open area of the town where you agreed to meet, “I was starting to suspect you wouldn’t show.” His deep and guttural voice rumbles out in a dark tone as you approach him.

You glance around him. Only three others are standing about. You tilt your visor at the large scaled man in front of you questioningly, “These are the only men you brought with you? I might as well be taking the Mandalorian on myself.” You scoff

“Oh no, not at all. The others are already stationed and waiting. Don’t you worry.” The threatening tone of his reassurance, followed by the sickly, toothy smile he shoots you, definitely confirms the fact that he is planning on killing you. You pretend not to notice.

“Good. Since these are your fighters, and this is your town, where do you want me?” You hope by giving him the illusion of control he’s less likely to suspect anything coming from you.

Besides,

You know damn well no matter where he puts you, you’ll end up on top either way.

“You and Tarsi are going to hole up there and wait for my signal.” He points up to the roof of a building to your right, “I’ll take the other two towards the front so we can close him off.” He points behind you where he intends on hiding out with the other two smugglers.

You nod in confirmation, and go to make your way to your assigned spot, one of the smugglers trailing close behind you. This Tarsi, you assume, is...unimpressive--to say the least. He’s small, too eager as he jogs next to you to keep up with your pace, and seems far too excited about the prospect of taking down a mandalorian.

And he won’t stop talking to you.

You don’t even know about what, you tuned him out almost immediately after he opened his mouth for the first time. You just know he wouldn’t stop making noise. The whole way to your assigned spot, he was blabbing away. The whole time he set up his long range rifle, and adjusted his scope, he was. Still. Talking.

At one point you notice while you’re settled down and looking out waiting for a signal--or any sign of the Mandalorian, that he’s been continuously scooting himself closer to you until there’s barely a gap between the two of you at all.

“I just really like that in a woman…,” Were the only words you suddenly catch from him, as you feel his hand on your thigh.

You shoot a threatening stare right into his eyes through your visor, which were already locked onto you. Only, he doesn’t get the hint.

“I’m sure you’re just as beautiful under all that armor as you are with it on…” He continues, and his thumb gently runs a small circle on your thigh where his hand rests.

How long exactly had he been hitting on you before you noticed? And how did he take your complete utter silence as interest?

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll take good care of you.” The way his voice drops into a sultry tone, and he starts to slide his hand up higher on your thigh, it's too much. You immediately grab his wrist and forcefully rip it from your leg, nearly crushing it in your grip as you continue to stare daggers at him.

He winces at the force of it, but somehow, someway, he still doesn’t understand, “You like things rough I see, no problem. I’ll do whatever you want once this is all over. Does the helmet stay on or is there a chance I get to see your beautiful eyes?”

You practically throw his wrist away from you. The audacity of him, to think you would actually be interested in sleeping with him. You can’t take it anymore, slowly you reach your hands out and gingerly place them on either side of his face. “You want a kiss sweetheart? No problem, I’ll give you a taste of--” You cut him off with a rough twist, and the awfully delightful sound of his neck snapping, causing him to immediately go limp in your arms. You roughly toss his body away from you in disgust. Thank the maker that was finally over.

You shake your head lightly to yourself to regain your composure, and turn back just in time to see the familiar shine of the Mandalorian as he walks through the seemingly abandoned street. He pauses right in the middle of the road, in the middle of where everyone is hiding out.

There's a moment, a moment of absolute silence, as the armored man stands in the middle of the road unmoving.

You can practically taste the tension in the air. It’s like time stops. Every moment suspended in mid-air waiting for the drop.

You start to question whether or not you missed the signal, were they all waiting on you? You didn’t see or hear anything....kriff, what if it happened while you were snapping that guy's neck?

Clink. Clink. Clinkclinkclink clink

A metal canister bounces out across the street and rolls to a stop, drawing both the attention of you and the Mandalorian.

The can starts to hiss lightly, before the hiss erupts suddenly into a plume of fog that quickly begins to fill the street.

That's the signal.

Just as quickly as fog fills the street, consuming the Mandalorian in it’s haze, smugglers emerge and drop down from their various hiding spots, and with it their shouts and yells as they make a charge for their target.

Blaster fire lights up the fog filled street in smears of color, and you can hear how it ricochets off your accomplice’s beskar.

You quickly scramble to grab the long range rifle next to you, and switch the setting on your helmet’s hud so you can easily see the heat signatures through the fog. Quickly searching around with your scope you lock on one of the poor souls still emerging from their hiding place. You squeeze the trigger, and fire.

Your blaster bolt whistles through, lighting up the fog around it as it makes perfect contact with your target, sending them dropping limply to the floor.

You’re immediately locking onto another target, you fire, direct hit.

You can hear the clashing below you as the Mandalorian fights on the ground, and you take aim on another target. There's too much going on down there, you don’t feel like you can get a clear shot. Heat signatures are overlapping, and people are moving too quickly. You attempt to take a shot when you think you have an opening, but a blaster bolt gets ricocheted in your direction, causing you to jerk away just as you squeeze the trigger, and you miss.

You let out a frustrated growl and readjust your hold on the rifle, rolling your shoulder back to loosen up before you take aim. You scan through the fog, through the heat signatures, it’s easy to spot the Mandalorian like this. His beskar makes his heat signature entirely unique. He’s being surrounded by five or six men, all haphazardly lunging at him, trying to overwhelm him with their number alone.

Quickly you flick on your comm as you aim at one of the men circling behind him.

“Careful on your left.” You warn, just as you pull the trigger, sending your bolt whizzing right over his shoulder and making direct contact with the man behind him, sending him collapsing to the floor. You see the Mandalorian quickly look behind him as the body collapses, then shoots his glace directly to where your shot came from, directly at you.

He doesn’t have the chance to even think about flicking his comm on before another is making a charge at him. As much as you have a vantage point where you are, you have a need to be there on the floor with him. You’re not a bad shot, but it’s not your strongest skill, and you know you would be much more effective in close combat.

“I’m coming down, hang tight!” You flick your commlink back off and hop down to the ground beneath you. You keep low, sneaking the best you can through the fog. You’re not sure if anyone has noticed yet, that you’ve turned on them. Best to keep it that way as long as you can. Surely Rrollesh has noticed your absence, but then again, you haven't seen him either.

You draw your blade, and grip it tight in front of you as you make your way through the fog. You slow your pace and quiet your steps as you begin to come up behind someone, firing their blaster in the Mandalorian’s direction. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve done this, adrenaline rushes through you everytime, your heart pounding as you slowly and carefully sneak up right behind them. It squeezes in your chest when you finally make the lunge for them, clamping a hand over their mouth as you drive your blade deep into them. You let out a deep breath as you rip your blade back out and let their body drop to the floor.

But there's no time for relief, you hear someone behind you and immediately whip around to see another one of Rrollesh’s men staring you down with their comrades body by your feet. You waste no time gauging their reaction, and quickly rush towards him. He readies up both of his vibroblades and lunges right back at you with pure ferociousness.

Your blades clash together violently, grinding against each other as sparks fly from the impact. You’re unrelenting in your offense, one powerful jab after another, as you continue to push him back, crowding him with your attacks. He struggles to block each one, not even getting a chance to make an attack on you. The pure force from each hit, forcing him to take several steps back.

He steps sideways when you make another lunge for him, causing you to swipe nothing but air. You whip around just in time to barely block his oncoming attack. Your blades lock together and you shove him back with as much force as you can muster, sending him stumbling backwards. You waste no time barreling forward, knocking him to the ground, and rushing to pin him down, plunging your blade deep in his chest.

“I should have known…,” You shoot your gaze up at the unmistakable sound of Rrollesh’s deep and guttural voice. He takes a heavy step towards you, his figure transforming from a blurry shadow to a clear image of the hulking Trandoshan before you. “Do you intend to make a fool of me?” He growls out threateningly.

You rip your blade out from the body beneath you without a word, keeping the gaze of your visor fixed on his. You’re trying to mask how heavy your breathing from the earlier fight, keeping yourself as still as possible as he towers over you.

“I want both those Mandalorians dead! Kill them both!” He roars through the fog, taking a step back, “I want both their helmets on my wall!” He lets out a dark and throaty laugh, watching you jump to your feet as two of his goons rush for you.

You clash blades with the first one, spinning around to elbow the second right in the face as he tries to grab you from behind. You’re barely able to bring up your vambrance in time to block the first one coming right back at you again full force. His blade runs hot grinding against your beskar, the sparks lighting up your visor in a brilliant display of color. You kick him as hard as you possibly can in the gut, sending him barreling to the ground, only for you to be grabbed roughly from behind, a blade to your throat.

You struggle to hold the blade back, and try to shake him loose. Roughly jostling left and right to no avail, before finally mustering the strength to haul him over your shoulder. You succeed, but it’s sloppy, the force of it throwing you to the ground next to him. Pure adrenaline pumps through your veins as you swipe at him with a shout of fury from where you are on the floor. He’s frantically crawling backwards away from you, as you continue to furiously swipe at him.

His partner suddenly lunges on top of you, and makes a jab at you at the same time you quickly roll over in his grasp. His blade plunges into your side, causing you to scream out in pain as you feel the blade shred through your flesh in the exposed portion just beneath where your chest plate ends. You still feel the burning heat of pain radiating from your gushing wound as he rips the blade back out of you.

You struggle in his grasp as he makes another jab for your neck. You’re barely able to roll just enough sideways that he hits the ground next to you. You violently thrash as he slams your pauldron back down into the duracrete beneath you, as you’re straining to reach for your blaster with your non-dominant hand, trying to ignore the searing pain from your fresh wound.

He lifts up, readying his blade to make the final blow, just as you manage to get a grip on your weapon.

Hastily you squeeze the trigger just as he comes down full force.

BAM

He falls limp on top of you, His blade still thrumming wildly as it falls from his grip. You don’t even take a second to breathe as you hear quickening footsteps from above you.

You swiftly wrestle your arm from underneath the dead body on top of you and tilt your helmet against the floor, just enough to aim at his partner barreling towards you, and fire.

His body skids to a halt next to you as it falls, and you’re finally able to take a breath. You rest your head back against the ground with a metallic thud as you try to steady your breathing, before hauling the body off of you and straining to get back to your feet with your hand clamped to your injured side, still clutching your blade.

How many more were there? You alone had already taken out eight men, who knows how many the Mandalorian had taken out. This was way more than you were expecting, and you haven’t even gotten to Rrollesh yet. You quickly look down at your hand holding your wound to assess the damage. There's blood, but not too much. Could be worse, you can still fight.

With your blaster drawn and ready, still in your non-dominant hand, you quickly make your way to the middle of the road where you can hear the clash of the Mandalorian fighting off another enemy.

You make it just in time to see the body drop to the floor, and join the various others scattered around the armored man’s feet. He’s been busy too apparently.

“Good to see you still standing, shiny.” You quip as you circle around to be back to back with him, scanning the fog for more enemies.

“Looks like you’re barely able to.” He teases back as the two of you stand ready for any further oncoming attacks.

“I’ve seen worse.” You shrug, “There can’t be much more of them left.��

You hear Rrollesh’s voice break through the fog, but you don’t see him.

“I’m sick of playing games.” He bellows out, “This ends now!” You hear the unmistakable clinking of another metal canister bounce onto the road, only this time, as soon as the hissing erupts into another cloud of fog, you’re blinded.

Your entire vision through the visor is filled with a bright blaring white. You quickly shield your eyes, but find the light isn’t letting up. It takes you a second to feel the hot air as it surrounds you. It wasn’t a flash bomb, no this was definitely a fog--a mist of some kind, but the heat of it was fucking up your visor.

“What the hell is that?!” You shout quickly struggling to swap the setting on your helmet as you try to recover from the blinding light of it.

“Some kind of thermal screen.” The Mandalorian grunts out, clearly struggling as much as you with the sudden blindness.

It’s abruptly clear to you now that the two of you were now at a disadvantage. Your thermal scanners now rendered absolutely useless. You were completely blind.

You and the Mandalorian continue your guard, back to back as you slowly circle around just waiting for the attack.

You hear him before you see him, one of Rrollesh’s goons shouting as he rushes the both of you. Your armored partner clashes with him first, cutting in front of you to block the man’s blade with his vambrace. At the same time, a blaster shot zips through the air and collides with your chest plate, forcing you to take a step back.

You fire back in the same direction it came blindly, simply hoping for the best. There was no way you could aim properly while blinded like this. You’re barely able to see a foot in front of you. Another slurry of blaster shots get sent your way, knocking against your chest plate and pauldron as the Mandalorian continues to push back against the blade wielder. You take another shot, focusing directly where the last one came from, and praying for a hit.

There's no way to know for sure until this is all over, but with the grunt you hear, and the clatter of something falling, you're almost positive it hits. While you’re focusing on that, another smuggler jumps out from the fog and onto the back of the Mandalorian, trying to hold him steady so the other can get a clear shot. You hear the struggle behind you and swiftly turn around to help.

The Mandalorian gives a couple quick elbow jabs to the man holding him in a lock, loosening his grip just enough he can rip him off. At the same time, you ready your blade and make a fierceful jab right into the side of the other man, causing him to double over and clutch his side in pain. Which leaves him wide open for you to deliver the finishing blow. His body hits the ground at the same time you hear the Mandalorian fire off two blaster shots, followed by the thud of another body. The deadly combination of you both made you feel unstoppable. Even with your injury, there was no doubt in your mind the two of you were walking away from this.

You resume your defensive position, back to back, standing ready for any further attacks.

But no one comes.

Silence fills the street again, revealing just how heavy your breathing is after all of this fighting and your injury. You feel sweaty under your helmet, your hair sticking to your face, while you focus on the empty fog in front of you.

A sudden bone chilling, angered roar rips through the fog.

“I’ll kill you!” Rrollesh roars out in pure fury, “I’ll kill you myself! Tear you limb from limb! Make you suffer! Beg for me to end it!” You can almost feel the vibration from his powerful growl as it echoes through the street surrounding you. It feels like it’s coming from all around you all at once, leaving you unable to pin his exact direction.

He continues to growl out angrily, animalistic huffs of pure, raw rage. You think he's circling the both of you. Like a predator stalking its prey. Waiting for his moment to strike. Or maybe, he was building himself up, letting the rage boil up inside of him, working himself up to the point of no return.

You notice something out of your peripheral, and you instinctively quickly move to dodge out of the way. Just in time for a hulking, mass of metal to come slicing through the fog and collide with the ground with an ear splitting clang.

Rrollesh roars out as he lifts the weapon again, swinging back at you full force. You’re just able to move back enough for it to just barely miss your chest plate by a hair's width. Too close for comfort. The weapon was brutal, the biggest vibroaxe you had ever seen. The sheer mass of it alone was enough to spark fear in the hearts of many, combined with its gnarled edges, it felt like a weapon of nightmares. The brute strength alone needed to wield it seemed only appropriate for the towering reptilian before you.

You keep moving back with every one of his powerful swings, dodging becomes more and more difficult with your wound seering in pain with every movement. The Mandalorian fires his blaster at Rrollesh, but despite his size, and the insanity of the weapon he's holding, Rrollesh spins, bringing the flat of the axe up to block the oncoming bolt. How was he so quick? It seems impossible.

With his attention now turned toward your partner, the hulking Trandoshan makes a charge towards the Mandalorian, seeming to block his oncoming blaster fire with ease. He makes several wide swings, the Mandalorian barely able to dodge himself despite the lack of injury on his part. With every swing Rrollesh lets out a bone chilling growl while he advances on the Mandalorian.

You attempt to intervene, rushing the absolute mammoth before you, and driving your blade deep in his vulnerable side, left exposed from his wide swings. He barely reacts, and you panic when you attempt to drive it out, only to find your blade is stuck within his tough flesh.

You quickly abandon your blade, and lurch back creating as much space between the two of you as you can. He slowly turns towards you, his scarred eye burning a hole through you, as he snarls, baring his incredible sharp teeth. You think he’s going to make another swing at you, try to bring you to the ground, but he surprises both you and the Mandalorian when he suddenly swings back around bringing his blade down full force on the chrome beskar.

There’s a terrifying display of color as sparks nearly blind you when the axe makes contact with the beskar. The pure force from the blow sends the Mandalorian flying backwards with a wrecked grunt. You know the power from it had to have hurt, and bad. Probably knocked all of the air from his lungs, and made his head spin. Perhaps he was even knocked unconscious.

And when he doesn’t get up from the ground, you know you’re right.

Rrollesh wastes no time advancing on him, his intention to finish the job is clear as he stomps over to the weak body of the armored man on the floor. You quickly move to stop him, firing your blaster as rapidly as you can haphazardly, even if only to serve as a distraction long enough for your partner to recover--and move. Quickly.

Rrollesh turns back to face you, and lets his nightmare of a weapon rest on the ground, dragging it behind him as he rapidly advances towards you. You’ve seen a lot in your time travelling through the galaxy, you’ve experienced the worst of the worst. Hardly anything phases you anymore.

But this?

Rrollesh, and his imposing figure barrelling towards you with such determination--such speed--pure rage apparent in his eyes--as you hauls that massive, hulking, terror of an axe behind him?

You feel fear.

Not adrenaline, not the rush of battle--

But for the first time in a long time, you feel pure, bone chilling terror pouring through your veins.

You don’t even have time to process the ice you feel creeping down your spine as you attempt to fire more rounds at him. Which of course, he manages to block with ease. Just when he gets within distance of you, he swings at you. You manage to dodge, but not quick enough, his swing clips your hand, sending your blaster skittering across the street, and a searing pain shooting through the entirety of your arm, sending you to your knees, clutching your hand in absolute agony.

You quickly shoot a glance behind the man towering over you. The Mandalorian was still on the floor, but he’s moving. Groaning as he tries to shakily pick himself up from the floor.

But you shouldn’t have done that.

Because it draws the attention of Rrollesh, who quickly abandons you when he’s reminded of his task to finish him off. Before you can even shout to warn your partner of the impending attack, Rrollesh is already hauling his massive axe into the air.

Without thinking--without even realizing it, you jump to your feet and activate your whipcord thrower, sending a line of fibercord wrapping around the powerful weapon in Rrollesh’s grasp. You struggle to keep your hold on it, the brute strength from it’s wielder causing your heels to drag lightly beneath you.

He glances at you over his shoulder with an irritated growl and yanks his axe to the side with such a force, it sends you flying forward, and skidding across the duracrete road beneath you. He swings in the opposite direction, dragging you with it as you try your best to keep your hold. You struggle to hold your vambrace steady long enough that you can hit the button.

But as soon as you do, an electric current is suddenly ripping down the length of your fibercord, lighting up around both you and Rrollesh as the bolts of electricity consume his hulking metal axe. He lets out a deafening roar of pain as he releases the weapon, sending it clattering to the ground. You quickly yank it away from him, pulling it far out of his reach.

In a blind fit of rage, Rrollesh goes to grab at the Mandalorian despite not having a weapon, needing some release for his boiling anger. But instead, he’s met with a burst of red hot flame from the mandalorians built in flame thrower.

Rrollesh stumbles back from the heat, bringing his arms up to shield his face. Leaving him completely distracted and totally exposed. This is your chance. Despite your throbbing pain, you muster up every ounce of your strength to shakily get to your feet, grab your blaster, and quickly come right up behind him. Readying your blaster to fire, once, twice, three times in the back of his scaled head.

He collapses to the floor with a powerful thud.

You still have your blaster up as you stand there, trying to steady your breathing. You let your arm drop limply to your side with a deep exhale. It was finally over. You look over to the Mandalorian still on the ground in front of you, his visor fixed to Rrollesh’s dead body as his chest heaves, breathing just as heavy as you.

You walk over to him, holstering your blaster and clutching your injured side. You hold your free arm out to him, which he takes, and you help haul him up from the floor.

“See? I told you it would be easy.” You give his shoulder a playful whack as you let out a light chuckle.

He just locks his visor to yours for a second, before dejectedly shaking his head at your antics.

-------------------------------------------

“Well would you look at that? You actually made it out alive.” Is how the mechanic decides to welcome you back as you and the Mandalorian enter the hangar.

“How are the repairs coming?” You ask as you approach him.

“They’re done already. Got it done a bit quicker than I thought.” He nods, before looking you up and down, clearly noticing the way you're gripping your side, “You take care of Rrollesh?”

You fish out the credits you pocketed from Rrollesh’s body earlier, and toss them at the mechanic. He catches the hefty bag in pure disbelief.

“Think those belong to you.” You nod your helmet towards him. He pauses, staring at you for a moment, before quickly opening up the bag and nearly gasping at the amount of credits inside.

“Thank you.” He says finally, hooking the bag onto his belt. “I owe you--this whole town owes you. You’ve done us a huge favor.” You can feel the sincerity in his voice.

“That enough to cover our repairs?” You tease, tilting your helmet to the side.

“And then some.” He laughs nodding, “You’re lucky I didn’t charge you extra for having to watch that little womp rat.” He notions in the direction of the ship with a tilt of his head.

You let out a laugh despite the pain from your injury, “Thank you, I know first hand what a pain he can be.”

“He was good actually. Let him run around the hangar for a bit and he’s been sleeping peacefully ever since.” The mechanic crosses his arms in front of his chest, “Next time you find yourself in this sector, stop by. I’ll give you a tune up on me.”

The Mandalorian speaks up this time as he passes you to board the ship, “I’ll hold you to that.” And then he’s already up the ramp and you and the mechanic watch as he disappears into the hull.

“Until next time.” You give the mechanic a final nod before you head up the ramp yourself, “And hey, get yourself some new droids, you deserve it!” You exchange a wave before closing the ramp to the ship.

It doesn’t take long before you feel the ship rumble to life beneath you as you grab yourself a medkit. You situate yourself on a crate, and begin working at removing your armor as the ship takes off into the familiar confines of space.

By the time you finish applying a healthy dose of bacta, and are working to wrap a thick bandage around your middle, the Mandalorian has already made the jump into hyperspace, and is descending the ladder of the cockpit to join you in the hull.

He doesn’t acknowledge you at all as he makes his way to the alcove and opens the compartment to check on the kid. You barely make a glance at him, too busy tending to your own wounds as he scoops the sleeping child up into his arms.

“Shouldn’t wake him” You warn, not lifting your gaze from your work as you fasten your bandages. He practically ignores you, not saying anything as he gives Grogu a light stroke to his forehead, drawing out the smallest of coos from the sleepy bundle. The Mandalorian is careful as he moves to take a seat on a crate opposite from you, cradling the child in his arms.

It was amazing to you, the striking contrast of the powerful bounty hunter, and how soft he was for this child. He clearly cared deeply for the little thing, a vulnerability you never would have expected.

“How are your wounds?” The Mandalorian asks quietly, lifting his gaze from the child to address you.

“Nothing some bacta can’t fix. Like I said, I’ve seen worse.” You shrug as you readjust your undershirt.

“Good.” Is all he says in return, and fixes his gaze back on the child.

You watch the two of them, unabashedly. Nearly enjoying the silence after today. But then you remember the realization you had earlier before the fight.

“Thanks for helping me with the job.” You finally speak out, rolling your head back to release some of the tension in your neck, “couldn’t have done it without you.” You admit quietly.

“And uh…” You start, and he lifts his helmet again, tilting his visor slightly as he waits for you to finish, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His voice is quiet, clearly trying not to wake the child.

“For how I acted back on Coruscant.”

“It’s fine.” He dismisses you, before you even get the chance to elaborate. This clearly wasn’t bothering him as much as it was bothering you.

“It’s not fine.” You give him a stern look, “We accepted the job together, I should have been working with you not against you. And I definitely shouldn’t have put it all on you when things went south.” He looks back up to you, but doesn’t say anything. What could he even really say?

“That was a tough job for me...,” You continue after a long silence between the two of you , “And I let my own insecurities get the best of me. So I’m sorry. I-I havent…,” You hesitate, taking a moment to figure out how you want to word this, “...It’s been awhile since I’ve worked with anyone else so try to bear with me while I get back into the swing of things.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything at first. He stands and gently puts the child back into his hammock in the alcove and shuts the door. You honestly don’t think he’s going to say anything, just leave your sincerity hanging in the air.

“I’m surprised by your insecurity.” He surprises you when he does speak. Not only because he spoke, but because that's definitely not at all the response you were expecting.

“What do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head at him confused by his odd response.

“You said you let your insecurities get the best of you, I'm surprised. What are you insecure about?” He settles back down in his previous spot on the crate opposite to you, his visor settling right on your gaze.

You hesitate, you're not sure you're ready to divulge such sensitive information to a man who, before today, you couldn’t stand to be around. Something in you decides you owe it to him, an explanation for your behavior, it's part of your apology.

“About being a good hunter.” You finally admit after far too long. And he just tilts his helmet at you, an unspoken urge for you to explain further.

“I only got into the business a few years ago.” You confess, “I’m constantly worried I’m not good enough for the job.”

“You had a commission price double what mine was for the same quarry, and you worry you’re not good enough?” He sounds genuinely curious, not like he’s judging at all, and honestly you're thankful for it.

“That's just it. I…” You trail off again and scan the floor as you search for your words. How much do you want to divulge here exactly? You take a deep breath before starting again, “My husband, he's the one who taught me everything I know. He’s the reason I got into the guild. I had never even been off the surface of my home planet before him.” You explain, avoiding eye contact with his visor, which is still locked on you intently as you speak, “And he-- now he was a good hunter. He already had a reputation, I was just sort of...in the shadow of it. I get the good commissions because of his reputation, because of his skill.” You sigh, and finally work up the courage to look back at his visor, “I guess I’m just worried I’m just simply riding his success instead of living up to it.”

You feel so awkward, talking about this. It feels strange, unnatural. Especially with not being able to see the face of the Mandalorian in front of you. You can’t gauge his reactions at all, and it only works to make you more nervous as you spill your feelings out to him.

“With how you fought today I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

It’s such a small thing, his response. Just one sentence, one short simple sentence. But somehow, it struck you. It catches you off guard how much that one, simple sentence actually means to you. How could he have possibly known the perfect thing to say to you, when you didn’t even know it yourself? It was somehow perfectly reassuring without being belittling. There's so much to unpack, not only is he saying he thinks you fought well today, but that you fought well enough you were deserving of your status within the guild, even without your husband's presence.

And maybe--maybe it’s not actually that deep. Maybe you’re simply putting your own meaning into his words where there isn’t any meaning at all, but stars, regardless if that's the case or not, that sentence means everything to you right now.

You suddenly realize you’ve been staring at him dumbly in silence this whole time. You quickly try to compose yourself, clearing your throat and averting your gaze.

“Thank you.” You finally muster out, trying to play it cool. He just nods.

“Oh, before I forget.” He gets up to grab his go-bag, the one he was carrying the child in earlier, “Here, this is for you.” He rummages in the bag for a moment and pulls out some kind of wrapped paper bundle, handing it to you.

You take it from him hesitantly and utterly confused. You carefully begin to unwrap the paper, and gasp at the sight you reveal.

It’s food, real--honest to maker food.

Some kind of fried pastries, it definitely wasn’t fresh anymore, but stars, did it look delicious regardless.

“The kid liked those best” He says casually, like he didn’t just give you the most perfect gift you could have ever asked for.

But that's just it, you didn’t ask for this. How did he know how badly you had been craving this all kriffing day? This is the one thing you’ve been wanting more than anything else since you landed on Utrost, and he just handed it to you, wrapped up, as a gift. Because the kid liked it best?

Maybe he really had no idea, just bought it on a whim and it just happened to be the perfect gift. Just like he just happened to know the perfect thing to say to you about feeling insecure. You feel like you’re about to lose your mind. Who the hell was this guy?

“Thank you.” Is all you can manage once again. You feel like a fool struggling this much over some street food.

He simply nods at you before he’s taking his leave to the cockpit, leaving you alone once again in the hull of the ship to indulge in your food in peace.

The second you take a bite, pure bliss radiates to every inch of your body. You nearly groan at how absolutely fantastic it tastes, and it's no surprise to you that this was the kids favorite. Maker, you can only imagine how much better it would have tasted fresh. Maybe it’s because this was the first bite of something other than a ration pack you’ve had in weeks, but you swear, this was the best thing you had ever tasted in the galaxy.

Maybe partnering up with this Mandalorian wasn’t such a bad idea after all. **** Previous - MASTER - Next

#The mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #fanfic

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brokenbeskar · 3 years

Text

Interception

Chapter Four of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x Reader)

Word Count: 7.8k

Summary: Karga had warned that the two of you would have to work together to catch this bounty, but who knew working together would be so difficult?

Warnings: some canon typical violence, but nothing else!

A/N: This chapter was a STRUGGLE to write, but I have been so excited for it! I hope my hard work payed off and you all enjoy it!

Sixty thousand credits. Sixty thousand credits. You have to keep repeating it to yourself as you scan through the passing crowd on one of the lower levels of Galactic City. Taking bounties on Coruscant was never easy, and quite honestly it was beyond exhausting. Thousands of city blocks stacked on top of eachother and spanning the entire length of the planet made it that much easier for bounties to blend in and hide. You and the mandalorian had decided to split up to cover more ground, but even between the two of you it could take weeks to finally find your quarry, and that was time you didn’t have.

So here you were, on a vantage point scanning the streets below you on the west end, looking for any sign of your bounty. Nothing...nothing...nope...still nothing. A lot of the passersby were shady, as to be expected, but not who you're looking for. The lower you got in Galactic City, the more crime ridden and poverty stricken it became, a prime place for spice runners and black market trades. Which is exactly why you were looking here.

The bounty you’re after, Kargra warned that the two of you would have to work together to catch her, and you know why. Her name was Yanu Nuld. This particular bounty was a renowned thief. She was known for pulling off incredibly risky heists but somehow managing to never get caught. She was incredibly cunning and deceitful. Known for convincing others to help her only to leave them abandoned and easily caught with nothing in return. All of the intel gathered on her was information happily given up from those scorned by her mendacious ways. Above all though, she was incredibly smart, a master evader. The price on her head was only as high as it was because of how many failed attempts there have been made to capture her.

Yanu was clearly a thrill seeker. Hearing how high stakes her last few heists were, you wonder if she’s getting bored. It was no wonder she was here on Coruscant, there were plenty of valuables to go after, and with the thriving black market beneath your feet, she could easily make more than a few credits in one evening alone. That can’t be why she's here though, no-- she has to be after something bigger. She’s not here for some measly credits and you know it. That would be too easy for her, she needs something more exciting, more risky, more fun. What though? You didn’t intend to find out, just grab her and go as fast as possible. Sixty thousand credits were on the line here, and maker, you needed them. She was just a way to get you one step closer to your new ship.

As you’re scanning the crowd you notice a familiar, irritating gleam of metal. You huff angrily and activate the commlink in your helmet. The two of you had synced them up before you split up to communicate, but clearly there wasn’t enough of that going on.

“What are you doing here?” You bark out through the comm, and you see him immediately look up to your vantage point as if you had shouted it over the crowd.

“Looking for the bounty.” He deadpans and it infuriates you, you roll your eyes under your helmet.

“Stand up at the cantina not work out for you, shiny?” A mocking tone was oozing from your voice before you suddenly changed your demeanor and snapped out at him, “We agreed I would take the west end, and you would take east.”

“I finished sweeping the east end, she's not there.”

“Well I don’t need you to double check my work.” you spit out bitterly at him. How he managed to constantly get on your nerves was a skill of its own. You try to push your irritation aside to focus on the bounty you still had zero leads on. “I’m assuming since you’re here you didn’t get anything good from the jeweler?”

There's a long pause on his end before he replies, “I didn’t speak to the jeweler.” He says it slowly, drawing it out. He sounds almost as irritated as you.

“What do you mean, you didn’t speak to them?” You speak out through your clenched jaw. Your irritation is much more obvious than his, but you can’t help it.

“You never asked me to.” it’s true, you didn’t, but you thought it should have been obvious when you told him you thought they might have some information.

“Dank farrik! Fine!” You spit through the comm and jump down onto the dirty street below you, heading off in the direction of the jeweler. “Just keep doing whatever you’re doing. Let me know if you get anything.” You switch off the comm before he can say anything else.

You’re grumbling angrily under your breath as you trudge through the dirty streets. You and the mandalorian had been constantly getting into each other's way, you don’t work well together at all. It’s not like you don’t know how to work with others. Kriff, you got into this profession with a partner, working with someone else should be more natural to you than it would be alone. Something about this mandalorian however, was making this job far more difficult than it already was.

Since you landed he’s been getting on your nerves. The both of you couldn't agree on anything, you are uncoordinated together, pushing each other away like opposing magnets. At the same time however, you kept getting in each other's way as if you were being drawn together-- like magnets. You would go to question someone, only to find he was already there with the same idea. You would go to search a new area, only to see his damned shiny armor somewhere close by. The both of you even physically collided with each other once rounding the same corner. You were seriously only one more run-in away from locking him back in his ship and finishing this job yourself.

You pull out your tracking fob and hold it out in front of you to see if you can get anything, but the beeping is still just as steady as it has always been. She must be screwing with you on purpose, running in circles around the same block. At least you know she's still in the area. You keep walking, sweeping the fob in front of you to see if you pick up anything new, but you feel someone watching you. You feel it on the back of your neck, like electricity running through the air. You look to your right where you feel it, and see someone dart into the darkness.

Interesting...

Pocketing your fob you decide to investigate.

You step down a couple steps into the dark alley and change the setting on your helmet’s display to look for footprints. Bingo, bright red and clear as day. You follow them with your visor, whoever it was, they were running when you caught sight of them. You can tell based on the spacing of their prints and just how far they went considering you just saw them a minute ago. Walking along with them, you keep your eyes peeled, scanning your surroundings with your visor, looking for anything out of place. You’re just hoping this isn’t a trap.

You follow them down the dark and damp alleyway, until the footprints your tracking come to a halt. It’s like whoever you were tracking simply disappeared. You look up and around the buildings next to you, whoever it was had clearly taken higher ground. You spot them on the heat signature, crouched on a ledge.

“Do I have business with you?” You call up to them, letting them know you can definitely see them.

“Should have expected a mandalorian to find me that easily.” They jump down from their ledge and saunter over a few steps closer to you, but make a point to keep their distance. You can’t exactly get a good look at them, their hooded robes concealing most of their features.

You can’t help but scoff, “You say that as if that wasn’t the most obvious hiding spot. Too predictable. Now what’s your business with me.”

“I have...information.” They seem to hesitate with their offer, but it causes you to tilt your helmet up in interest, so they continue, they’re voice dropping in volume, barely above a whisper, “I know the bounty you’re after.” oh now this was interesting. Definitely not what you were expecting, and you have a pretty good feeling it could be a trap, but maybe that's exactly what you needed.

“I’m interested,” You admit, “What can you offer me?”

“Not so fast, I need something in return--in exchange. I need you to guarantee my safety.” They seem rushed, on edge.

“Your safety? From what?” You tilt your helmet at them quizzically.

“From her. And--and I want to walk away with my record clean. I don’t want anyone to know I’m involved.” They were definitely panicked, there's an urgency in their voice, a sort of desperation.

“I can’t do anything about your record, but I have no bounty on your head so you're free to leave this planet, I won't stop you. Though I’m curious, why do you need protection from my bounty?” You relax your stance slightly, shifting your weight to one leg, but keep your shoulders square.

“Listen, Yanu...she’s dangerous. I thought I knew what I was doing getting caught up with her, but when I found out there was a mandalorian holding her puck--,” They cut themselves off and shake their head slightly, “look, doesn’t matter, this ended up being more than what I signed up for. She’s acting careless, like she wants to get caught--and I for one, don’t want to end up frozen in carbonite next to her....or worse…” They trail off at the thought of what their fate could be at the hands of a mandalorian, despite you not even really being one. There's no bounty on their head, at least not one that belongs to you, so for all you care you would shoot them without hesitation if they got in your way. And you get the feeling they know it.

“How’d you know I was after her?” You rest your hands on your belt as you continue to question them. So far their story makes sense, but you’re checking for holes. Any little hint that something doesn't add up.

“We saw you. Two days ago, maybe three hundred levels up. She knew immediately you were looking for her. ‘only a matter of time,’ she said.” The stranger in front of you shakes their head to themselves before continuing, “I didn’t believe her until I saw you interrogating some shopkeep and I saw your puck light up.” They swallow harshly, hard enough you can hear it, “She told me not to worry about it, and I didn’t...until she changed the plan. Look, what she’s planning is insane, and I want out. I tried talking her out of it, but she won’t budge. I feel like she’s left me no other choice. If she finds out I came to you, she’ll--she’ll kill me.” Their voice cracks at the end and you can tell they’re being sincere.

They’ve so far only mentioned you though, they must not know about your mandalorian hunting partner. You want to ask, but know better of it. You don’t want to risk giving up any information that you could use to your advantage instead.

“So why did you come to me then?” You tilt your helmet curiously with your question. Truly it made no sense. “Why didn’t you just hitch a ride off this planet as soon as you got the chance? No reason for you to be helping me.” “Well I -- she…it’s--” They struggle immensely trying to explain, and it immediately puts you on high alert. This was it, that hole in their story you were looking for. The confirmation you needed that this was a set up. A trap.

“Spit it out then.” You punch out the words through your modulator more aggressively than you intend. You hope it’s taken as a warning, a warning that you know exactly what they’re up to. And with the way they snap their gaze to you, you’re sure they get the message.

“Look, it's not what you think,” They wave a hand dismissively.

“What is it then?”

“It’s complicated…”

“Oh I bet it is. Now tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you here and now, you’re wasting my time.” You move a hand to the blaster in the holster on your thigh.

“Wait hold on! You aren’t listening, I told you it’s not like that--”

“Well you better start explaining, and quickly, because I’m losing my patience.”

“I…I--I love her, okay?” They blurt it out in a panic and it takes you by surprise. There was nothing in the galaxy that could have prepared you for that one. Of all the things they could have possibly said, that was definitely not what you were expecting. They hang their head defeatedly, “I love her...but--but she doesn’t--not me. She doesn’t even care about me, I’m nothing more than bantha fodder to her.” They scoff and shake their head, “She was willing to put my life at risk just so she could have a good time…”

“So you came to me as a sort of...revenge?” You tilt your helmet inquisitively. You’re trying so hard not to let the amusement drip from your voice. This was clearly very serious to them, but this all feels so childish to you. This whole situation was borderline hilarious.

“Do you want the information or not?” They cross their arms in front of their chest. You beckon them to continue with a slight wave of your hand, and settle both of yours back onto your belt. They give you a determined nod before they start spilling everything.

“She's going to intercept a trade, some kind of rare crystal--I don’t really know what they are, but I know they’re probably worth more than double the beskar on your shoulders.” “Clearly that's an exaggeration.” You scoff. Beskar, mandalorian iron, was one of the most legendary metals in the galaxy. To imply these “crystals” were worth double? Hearsay. “It’s not. Like I told you, I don’t know a lot, but I guess they were stolen after the fall of the Jedi Temple. I don’t even know where she got the information about the trade, they’re keeping the whole thing incredibly confidential.” The stranger keeps their own voice down, as quiet as they can while they explain this to you. You don’t know much about jedi, honestly you don’t know anything. Whatever these crystals were, they weren’t important to you, but you realize why your bounty has an interest in them, if what your hearing is true.

You take a step closer to the stranger in front of you, “Tell me everything you know about the trade.” And they do, they spill everything they know. It’s not a lot, but it’s everything you need.

“Some kind of black market trade to a private client--I don’t know anything about the guy, but that doesn't matter. They’re doing the exchange on the upper levels tomorrow night. Some kind of hotel or something-- it’s big, real fancy. I’ll give you the coordinates. The crystals are in a case. Yanu is planning on intercepting before the case trades hands. I don’t know exactly how she’s planning to pull it off, but you’ll see her. She's...hard to miss.” The stranger trails off before giving you the coordinates, which you punch into your vanbrance so you can find the location later.

“Thank you.” You nod to them, “You better get going, get off this planet and find somewhere to hang low for awhile.”

“I plan on it.” They toss back at you and begin to head off in their own direction, before pausing and looking over their shoulder, “Be careful, Yanu is dangerous. Even for a mandalorian.” And with that, they continue on their way without looking back.

You wait for them to leave, watch them disappear behind a building, and then wait a few seconds more before you activate the comm on your helmet.

“Hey, shiny. You there?” You call out through the static of the comm.

“You find something?” His voice rings back to you through the static.

“Yeah. Got some information, bounty’s going to intercept a trade. Some kind of rare crystal or something.” Maker, just repeating this stuff out loud sounds so ridiculous. Maybe you did get conned.

“Rare crystals? You got that from the jeweler?” He sounds dubious, but intrigued. How were you even going to begin to explain the situation to this tin can.

“It’s a long story. Rendezvous back at the ship, I’ll fill you in.”

“Copy.” You hear his end of the comm click off and you begin your trek back to the ship.

--------------------------------------------

You’re perched up high in the immaculate hotel lobby, somewhere high on one of the various balconies, out of view from the bustling travelers beneath you. To call this a hotel lobby felt...disingenuous. Truly it was something else. Yeah it was the main lobby and lounge for a hotel, but it was unbelievably fancy. Marble, decorated flooring, chandeliers, huge windows, decor unmatched by anything on the lower levels. Large and impressive staircases surrounding both sides of the main desk area, It even sported a small cocktail bar in the lounge area. Staying here alone was a symbol of status, and it showed.

The patrons below were just as decorated as the impressive area around them. Flashy jewelry and flowing fabrics. It always felt strange, seeing the stark disconnect between classes especially since the fall of the empire, and even more so especially on Coruscant. The glittering and extravagant spectacle of it all, it felt so fake to you. You knew the harsh realities of the galaxy, that no amount of glistening gems or extravagance could cover up.

“You sure this isn’t a trap?” The mandalorian’s voice crackles over your helmet’s comm.

“No, but it’s the best chance we got.” You admit. It could very well be a trap, a set up, but that was a risk you were willing to take. Even if this wasn’t a trap, you know she probably knows you're here.

You couldn’t see your mandalorian hunting partner from where you were, he's perched up somewhere away from you, watching the lounge area through his pulse rifle scope. Where though? You have no idea. you both agreed it would be best if he stayed out of sight, since as far as you knew, your bounty was only aware of you, and only you. If you have even the slightest chance of catching her off guard, you definitely want to use that to your advantage.

You notice down below a well dressed Pantoran gentleman leaning against a wall. Nothing outwardly paints him as suspicious, but with the way he’s scanning the crowd, and seems to be lingering for no reason catches your attention. Not to mention the fact that you somehow didn’t even notice him walk in. You continue to watch him. He adjusts his clothes, crosses his arms, shifts his weight from one leg to the other, nothing odd or alarming--until you see him fiddle with something on his wrist and hold it up to his face.

You click a switch on the side of your helmet to zoom in, focusing on him. Oh yeah, he was definitely speaking into a comm unit. You glance down a little lower, and notice the hint of a holster under his jacket, only revealed when the edge of his jacket rides up when he speaks into his wrist. Now he definitely looks suspicious.

“Hey, you see that Pantoran over there by the window?” You ask over the comm, hoping the mandalorian notices the same thing you do.

“Yeah. He’s got a friend at the bar.” you look over, and sure enough, another well dressed man is sitting at the bar, speaking into his wrist. Sitting at the bar, but no drink. A pretty big red flag for you. He was much bigger than the one leaning against a wall across the lobby, built, and clearly strong.

“Extra security, you think?” You ask.

“Probably something like that.” You can hear him shift slightly over the comm, as he adjusts his position.

“No case though. Might be the buyer.” You know the mandalorian you're working with is probably thinking the same thing. At this point you're just trying to make conversation. Not that the silence bothered you at all. It was just...habit? It’s been a long time since you worked with anyone else, but your old habits still get kicked up every now and again. When you and your late husband would go on hunts together, there wasn’t a second of silence between the two of you. It definitely made the job a lot more enjoyable, when the conversations weren’t just strategy and business, but they were filled with playful banter and jokes too. You can't help the snort you let out when you remember the dumbest joke he once told you.

“What’s so funny?” The mandalorian’s gruff voice asks through the static.

“It’s--,” You shake your head lightly and let out another breathy chuckle, “Here, how do you unlock doors on Kashyyyk?”

“Is that really what your laughing at right---”

“A woo-kiee. Get it?” You cut him off, and immediately laugh at how ridiculous it is. Hearing his sigh over the comm only makes it that much better. You remember your response being about the same when you heard it for the first time.

“Hey, pay attention. I got eyes on the case.” he cuts in through your chuckling sternly, and it snaps you back to reality.

You peer down below you, and there, coming through the entrance. Another well dressed man is striding through, a shining silver case at his side. The man at the bar stands, and the one leaning against the wall, begins to make his stride to meet the one with the case. Bingo. That's the trade. You’re searching all over for your bounty, but you don’t see her anywhere. Did she abandon her heist? Did she decide it wasn’t worth it with you after her? Her partner, the one you met in the alley yesterday, told you she would be hard to miss, so why is it you’re not seeing her? The closer together the two men get to exchanging the case the faster your thoughts are racing.

Then suddenly they all come to a halt when a deafening blaster shot zips through the crowd from seemingly nowhere, immediately there are panicked screams and the man holding the case drops to the ground in an instant.

Suddenly, it’s chaos.

Patrons of the hotel lobby are scrambling all over, every which way, screams echoing through the shimmering entryway as disorder reigns beneath you. Did...did the mandalorian just shoot him?

“What the kriff are you doing?!” You shout over the comm, while you quickly scramble to jump over the banister of the balcony you’re on. You aren’t sure why your first instinct is to go for the case, but it is. You’re rushing down to the ground level, trying not to get caught up in the swarm of panicked people surrounding you.

“Wasn’t me.” You hear the shuffle over the comm as he starts to make his move. Well if it wasn’t him then that must mean--she was here.

You keep pushing your way through the crowd the best you can, picking up the pace at the realization that your bounty is close-- when another blast rings through the air. You hear a thud, and see the man who was at the bar earlier on the floor, face down. Between people, you barely catch sight of the silver case lying on the floor next to him. You get shoved harshly from someone on your left, it knocks you off balance for just a second, and when you get your footing back, you finally see her.

It's quick, she darts in to grab the case, picking it up off the floor without a break in her step. And then she's sprinting. You immediately start to sprint after her, aggressively shoving anyone out of your way as you chase her. Luckily she's easy to spot, her partner was right, she's hard to miss. Her bright pink skin, fiery red hair, and even brighter jumpsuit stood out easily in the crowd.

“She’s on the move!” You struggle to get the words out as you fight through the sea of people all swarming to escape the turmoil. There's a break in the crowd, and you use it as an opportunity to close as much space between you and her as possible. She glances back at you over her shoulder and gives you a smirk, before she whips out her blaster and fires twice at you.

Sparks erupt as it hits you once in the chest, and again in the shoulder, the brutal force of it causes you to lose your footing and stumble. The beskar protects you, but the impact is still hard and painful. You quickly try to shake it off and continue on your pursuit, the adrenaline from the chase making the pain dull quicker than it would otherwise, but then another shot, in the same shoulder, combined with someone colliding into you at the same time, and you fall to the ground with a rough grunt through your helmet. You can’t see anything but strangers’ feet passing by you, kriff you need to get it together, and quickly. You cannot let her escape. The shock from the blast still rings through your whole arm, your fingers are tingly and numb, pins and needles stabbing into you while you try to pick yourself off the ground as quickly as you can. You try to ignore it but--maker, the sharpness radiating from it was serious.

You hear another blast just as you get to your feet, immediately followed by the loud crash of glass shattering. You look up ahead of you just in time to watch your bounty jump through the now shattered window, as glass continues to fall around her and all over the lobby. Light catches every tiny shard causing it to glitter as if it were part of the expensive decor. You rush your way over to the destroyed window and peer down, to watch as she takes off in a speeder, case in hand.

“Dank farrik!,” you shout out through clenched teeth, and angrily pound your fist into the edge of the window. You drop down from the open window onto the balcony beneath you with an aggressive THUNK. “She got away, she's heading towards the port on a speeder.”

“I’m on it.” Is all he says back to you. You’re about to ask for an explanation, but you don’t end up needing to, because you see him soar into that direction. The lights from the city reflect off his armour as he bolts through the air with his rising phoenix. Well, that definitely wasn’t fair.

You’re desperately trying to come up with a plan, there's no way you can catch up to her in time on foot--

But then, you have the most stupid, most crazy, most riduclous idea you think you have ever come up with.

You look over the railing of the balcony and take a deep breath. Fuck, you were really going to do this weren’t you?

Yep.

You hold your breath when you jump off, your heart jumping to your throat, as you fall through the air.

You roughly catch onto the side of a speeder passing underneath you, and it dips dramatically with your weight. The person driving makes a loud noise in distress and you fear your going to pull the whole thing right out of the air. Your grip is slipping from your left hand as you struggle to keep hold, your feet dangling in the air below you. Speeders are zipping past you, beeping loudly as they pass your disruption. You’re terrified you're going to fall.

This was it. This was by far the dumbest thing you could have possibly done.

“Sixty thousand credits...sixty thousand credits...sixty thousand kriffing! credits!” You’re repeating the amount over and over to yourself through gritted teeth as you attempt to haul yourself up over the side of the speeder. You get one arm hooked firmly over the side of the passenger door, and you're struggling to pull your legs up, when the driver shouts at you in some foreign language you don't understand. They swerve viciously to the right and the sudden shift in force causes you to slip, smacking the bottom of your helmet against the side of the door.

“Cut that out!” You shout angrily at them and you attempt to pull yourself up again, ignoring them as they continue to shout at you panicked and angry. They jerk the speeder again, even harsher this time, and you get whipped back against the side of it, causing you to lose grip in your left hand and let go of the side of it. Now you’re barely hanging on with one hand, struggling to keep your grip while you dangle in the air as the driver speeds up and continues to veer dramatically to shake you off. Other neighboring speeders beep loudly and swerve dangerously close to your flailing limbs, the rush of air from them passing by only making holding on that much more difficult. If you don’t fall off this thing, you’re definitely getting hit by a different one.

One more rough jolt from the diver and your gloved hand can’t hold on any longer. Wind rushes from your lungs as you start to fall, but you quickly hit the whipcord thrower on your vambrace, and a long length of fibercord shoots out above you, just barely grappling onto the bottom of the speeder you just fell from. The driver yells loudly as the whole speeder tips sharply with the sudden yank of your cord. The sudden halt from the cord pulling taut, yanks you aggressively, and combined with the weight of your beskar helmet, sends a sharp pain through your neck and makes you dizzy.

You shake your head, and try to straighten up, gripping the fibercord with both hands, only to be met head on with blinding headlights from an oncoming speeder. Your breath catches in your throat as you brace for the oncoming impact, the blaring beep ringing through your helmet--but the speeder manages to swerve away from you just in the nick of time, causing your fibercord to sway, swinging you along with it as your grip on for dear life.

You clench your jaw tight as you haul yourself up, climbing the fibercord attached to your wrist, slowly reeling yourself closer and closer to the speeder above you. Some bounty hunter you were. The mandalorian probably had no trouble flying off after your bounty with his jetpack, and here you were swinging wildly from some poor soul’s speeder like an absolute fool.

You continue to haul your way up until you get to the end of your fibercord, and grab back onto the side of the speeder, wasting no time to haul yourself up and over the side of it before there's any further mishaps. The diver continues to yell at you loudly in their forien language, fear lining every inch of it. You grunt as you finally make it into the passenger’s seat, and they start shouting at you louder, growing more and more desperate to shoo you off.

“Let me drive.” You gruff out, ignoring what you assume to be their pleas. Only, they don't move, just continue to shout at you, and honestly you’re getting irritated. You’ve wasted enough time dealing with this, you need to catch up to the mandalorian and your bounty--quickly.

You pull out your blaster and point it at them. The driver shuts their mouth immediately at the sight of the blaster and you can see them gulp harshly. “Move...Let. me. drive.” You enunciate every word, dropping your voice to a threatening level. They make a small noise of distress before nodding once. Good, they understand basic. Or at the very least, they understand the blaster. You grab onto the steering controls with one hand and you awkwardly and unceremoniously trade places with the driver.

“Hold on tight.” you shout over to your unwilling passenger. The second you get a firm hold of the controls, you immediately accelerate, speeding up as fast as the small civilian speeder would go. You can hear the driver next to you muttering what you assume to be prayers under their breath, while they clutch to their seat with all of their strength. They gasp and cry out every time you make a risky maneuver. You're pretty sure you break every flying law Coruscant has, as you zip through lanes of traffic, cutting through with no regard to anyone else flying around you. The aggravated beeps of other drivers fall on deaf ears. You can’t be bothered, you need to catch up.

You see the mandalorian first, following close behind the bounty, dodging the occasional blaster fire she shoots out blindly at him. She's heading right for the dock, she must have a ship lined up and ready to go. Maybe if you’re quick enough you can cut her off from the front. The mandalorian was already right behind her, it was the perfect plan. There's no way she could escape if you pull this off. You quickly veer the speeder to the side and make your way to the opposite side of the dock, picking up as much speed as you can.

The driver in your passenger seat screams as you come barreling down towards the platform of the dock without slowing down. You pull up tight on the controls and level out the best you can, scraping the bottom of the speeder as you slide along the platform. Sparks fly around you, before you come to a sharp halt. You immediately jump out over the side, and start sprinting in the direction of your bounty without a word to the driver.

You can’t see your bounty yet, or the mandalorian for that matter, there's too much clutter along the platform. Crates, supply lifts, workers, and ships are scattered all over, but you know what direction she was heading, so you don’t stop running. Picking up as much speed as you possibly can, blaster in hand, you’re ready. You will not let anything stand in your way.

There was no way she was going to escape.

You hear blaster fire to your left, and see worker droids fleeing the area. You round a corner around a large stack of supply crates when you finally catch sight of her in a wide open landing area. Her neon jumpsuit makes her easy to spot from the rest of the clutter. She doesn’t seem to notice you as she continues sprinting towards what you assume to be her ship, case still in hand, firing behind her at what you can only expect to be your mandalorian hunting partner.

This was it, this was your chance. Your blood is rushing in your ears, you’re locked onto her, the only thing you’re focused on as you continue to barrel towards her. She was close enough, you could catch her by surprise and tackle her to the ground, and the mandalorian could catch up to support. No mistakes--no hesitation--you have to go for it--

But as soon as you take the leap--

PANG

Your vision goes black, a deafening ring goes echoing through your helmet that shifts into a horrible, loud, and awful white noise.

Then, a pain. An absolutely excruciating, sharp, pounding pain, surrounding your entire head. The pressure feels unbearable, the ache searing behind your eyes. Your wincing at the pain only causing it to grow.

You groan gruffly as things slowly come back to you one at a time. You flex your fingers and find them pressed against some kind of metal beneath you--you were facedown on the ground. How did you end up on the ground? You go to lift yourself up, but your vision is blurry and fading in and out. You manage to sit up slightly, and it takes you a minute to realize he's shouting at you.

“Get up! She’s getting away, we gotta get back to the ship.” He grabs you by your arm and roughly helps you to your feet. But? You’re so confused, what just happened? Your head is still pounding, and you feel like you could fall over any second, but you try your best to keep steady.

“Wh-...what happened?” You barely manage to get the words out as the both of you start to run towards your ship. There’s no way it was the quarry...was it? She wasn’t even looking at you, she didn’t even see you. Right?

“You ran into my line of fire, now keep up or we’ll lose her!” he shouts over his shoulder to you, over the noise of the bustling dock. Wait...ran into his line of fire? The realization hits you like a ton of duracrete.

“You kriffing shot me?!” The anger building in your chest sobers you up almost instantly. This idiot actually shot you! You would have had the bounty, she was right there. You practically had her in your grasp, but this absolute, bantha brained--bucket headed---fool, let her get away because he SHOT YOU in the back of the head.

“You jumped in my line of fire.” He snaps back angrily at you. He sounds just as furious as you are. Not sure why--he's not the one that got shot in the back of the head.

“You idiot! You’re lucky I'm wearing beskar, you could have killed me!” You’re shouting only increasing in both volume and fury as the two of you make it to the ship. The mandalorian hits a control on his vambrace to lower the ramp as you approach.

“No, I think you’re lucky you’re wearing beskar.” He challenges, as he quickly makes his way up the ramp and through the hull. Oh you’re gonna kill him. Snap his neck and grab the bounty yourself.

“Are you really that dim?!” You stomp through the hull right behind him, shouting up the ladder as he climbs to get to the cockpit, “Do you not look where you’re shooting? I can’t believe my bounty is getting away, because you shot me! Like a dumbass!” You grip the rungs of the ladder with such force and you stomp your way up, pure resentment filling every single movement as you make it up to the cockpit, “You kriffing moof milker!”

He’s ignoring you now. Slamming down buttons and initiating take off as quickly as he can in hopes of catching up to the bounty as you continue to sling insults at him. You angrily sit in the copilot’s seat and buckle in as the ship begins to ascend.

“I nearly had her! You tin-headed moron!” Despite the quietness inside the ship compared to the dock outside, you’re still shouting at him just as loud. Your irritation for this man is at an all time high, and that's saying something considering how often he seems to bring you to the edge of murder on the daily. All of the times he had gotten in your way this entire hunt, all of the times you felt like he was slowing you down, all of the times you felt like you were better off doing things yourself, and now this? Ohhh you hate him. You cannot wait to capture this bounty, collect your reward, and be on your way. You relish the day you get to turn away and never see this shiny mandalorian ever again.

The ship jerks roughly as the mandalorian rushes the ship through the air, twisting and turning wildly to avoid colliding with the heavy air traffic of Coruscant. Struggling to catch up with your bounty’s ship as it barrels towards the atmosphere. Every rough jolt of the ship only feeds into your seething rage.

“Kriff! Did a wampa teach you to fly? Get it together, dumbass!” He continues to ignore you as he flies, like he can’t even hear you, and maker, it pisses you off. The two of you are gaining on the bounty’s ship, quickly closing the distance between her ship and yours. She’s barely managing to dodge around other ships making their way through air traffic, before it looks like she's going to directly collide with one. She doesn’t slow down and she accelerates towards it, until she fires. Blasting right through the ship and flying through the smoke and debris.

The mandalorian tries his best to swerve out of the way of oncoming debris, jerking roughly to one side, which sends you slamming into the side console despite your seatbelt, but a large chunk still collides with the side of the ship. It’s like deja-vu when the ship gets knocked over in air, the rough shaking and awful clang of metal on metal, alarms blaring deafeningly, reminding you of your wreck nearly a week ago.

“IDIOT!” You shriek over blaring alarms as the mandalorian struggles to get the ship to straighten back out in the air. “Are you trying to kill us?! First you shoot me, and now you’re trying to get us stranded on Coruscant! Do you know how much repairs cost on this maker forsaken planet?!” The ship is rattling violently as he attempts to break through the atmosphere after the quarry, and you’re not sure you’re going to make it. “How did I end up stuck working a job with such a blurg-brained-no-good discount droid?!” You have to shout even louder to even be slightly audible over the blaring alarms, and brutal clunking and rattling of the ship, as she struggles and groans to break the atmosphere.

You are almost positive the whole thing is going to come apart before you can make it into open space, but much to your surprise, the ship manages to stay together and make it through the atmosphere--just in time to watch your bounty jump into hyperspace. The stretch and blink of her ship disappearing is the final blow to your already shattered mood.

“Farrik!” You shout and slam your fist into your armrest. You turn to face the mandalorian next to you, with every intention of flinging more insults his way, when you see him furiously flicking controls on the pain panel. There’s no way--he's not actually planning on trying to make the jump is he? This ship is on the verge of falling apart, you won’t make it. This whole ship will be ripped to shreds with you still in it.

“What are you doing?! We won’t make it! You’re gonna kill us!” Your shouts fall on deaf ears, with the way he’s ignoring you it’s like you haven't said anything at all, like you aren’t even there. You watch in horror as he tightly takes hold of the controls and pulls back, forcing the ship to make the jump. You hold your breath, and the ship jolts and rattles violently, as stars start to smear past the cockpit viewport. Ear-splitting alarms still echoing throughout the ship, as you somehow make your way into hyperspace--

That is until you’re being ripped right back out. The whole ship jerks forward with such force that both you and the mandalorian end up colliding with the control panel with an accompanying grunt. You hear a bunch of things shift in the ship's hull and you pray to the maker the kid is okay in there. You come to a sudden halt and everything in the ship powers down, until you are left floating, sitting in the cockpit in complete darkness, minus a few red emergency lights. There's a slow whirr of all the ship's machinery powering down, until there's nothing. Complete silence fills the cockpit.

“You…,” You start to break the silence, starting off quietly, barely above a murmur, until you gradually raise your volume back to an aggravated yell, “You absolute MORON! Bantha fodder! Moof-milking asshole!”

He says nothing, continues to ignore you as if you don’t even exist as he slowly gets up from the pilots seat and goes to open a panel in the back of the cockpit.

You murmur to yourself again, pressing one of your hands to the front of your visor in pure exasperation,“Di’kut…,” You shake your head, before turning to shout at him again, “Di’kutla!” The mandalorian flinches slightly, so subtly you think your eyes might be playing tricks on you in the dark. Oh, but that fuels you, all it took was that slight movement, and you know that must have struck him differently.

You’re not fluent in Mando’a by any means, but you know what you learned from your late husband. And insults were his favorite. They were the first thing you learned, and the thing you’re most familiar with. And now that you know those might actually affect the idiot you're working with? You start throwing out every insult you know, “Utreekov shabiir!” Empty headed screw up, “Gar mirsh solus!” you’re a dumbass, “Di’kut!” Idiot. You say each one with such a passion, because maker knows you mean it.

After messing with the control panel, the lights come back on, and you hear the low hum of machinery powering back up. He doesn’t acknowledge you as he walks back over to his seat and starts flicking switches to power up the ships thrusters.

“We’re going to have to stop on the next closest planet for repairs.” He finally speaks up, but it's your turn to ignore him. You’re furious, this was the worst hunting experience you have ever had, and it was all his fault. Your bounty was long gone by now, probably halfway across the galaxy. All that time on Coruscant? Wasted. He doesn’t say anything when he gets up again and leaves you alone in the cockpit, probably to go check on the kid.

You sit there alone angrily staring out as the ship slowly crawls its way along the stars. Seething in your own frustration. At this point, you don’t know if you’ll be able to make it to the next closest planet without killing him first. You hate him, you absolutely hate that shiny, tin-brained, fool of a mandalorian. *** Previous - MASTER - Next

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #fanfic

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brokenbeskar · 3 years

Text

Negotiator

Chapter Three of Memories Reforged ( Din Djarin x F!Reader )

Word Count: 5.8k

Summary: You finally make it to Nevarro to cash out your bounty, but end up revealing some details about yourself in the process

Warnings: some talks of gender (Din mistakenly uses the wrong pronouns for you, you correct him later), suicidal ideation (reader was saved from death but wishes they hadn’t been)

A/N: you finally get to reveal a bit more of yourself in this one!!! I hope you all like it! as always let me know if you see any mistakes or anything!

Somehow, you’ve never been to Nevarro. You’ve been to most of the Outer Rim at this point, but you’ve never stepped foot on this volcanic planet. You weren’t really sure what to expect, but two people waiting to greet the insufferable mandalorian you were traveling with, was definitely not one of them.

“Mando!” The unfamiliar man extends his arms out in welcome as the ramp to the ship lowers fully, the shiny mandalorian nodding in response as he descends. “And how's my favorite baby doing?” The stranger leans forward to smile widely at the baby in the mandalorian’s arms and give him a little wave. The baby coos happily back at him, reaching out to mimic his wave.

“It’s good to see you both alive and well.” The woman next to the both of them gives the mandalorian’s shoulder a rough pat, and he nods back in her direction too. Apparently that's the only way he knows to greet people back.

You stand there awkwardly, but mostly surprised. He has friends? People who are happy to see him? You have been dreading every second you’ve had to spend alone with this reflective asshole, how could anyone actually enjoy his company? It's probably the baby. They only like him for the baby. Yeah, that makes more sense.

“And who’s this you have with you? Care to introduce us to your friend here?” You’re snapped out of your thoughts and realize everyone is looking at you, the stranger man giving you a welcoming smile. You start to descend the ramp yourself so as to not be rude, stopping just besides the mandalorian you arrived with.

“He’s here on guild business. We’re splitting a reward.” He nods in your direction, but you're confused. Was he talking about you? Like...he nodded in your direction while talking about you, but ‘he’? It must have been a mistake. You ignore it and don’t say anything.

“Splitting a reward?” The stranger man spits out, shocked. “What for?”

“I ran into him on Jakku. He helped me take down the bomber and we agreed to split the reward in exchange for travel.” The mandalorian explains. You tilt your helmet up to look at him questioningly. First of all, you helped him? Oh he's got it all wrong, he tried to steal the bomber from you. And second, why does he keep referring to you as ‘he’? Suddenly it dawns on you--your helmet. He’s seen what you look like without your helmet, and you're half his size, but despite that he’s picking pronouns based on what your helmet tells him.

This helmet wasn’t made for you, it bears the masculine T shape visor, instead of the more rounded feminine shape traditional in mandalorian armor. It’s really the only distinguishing factor, mandalorian culture doesn’t really care for individuality. It doesn't matter who you are, just that you’re a strong warrior. Hell even all of the pronouns in mando’a are gender neutral. Well, you still don’t like him, but at least he’s respectful.

“Well, if that's the case, lets go inside to talk business. Forgive me for my lack of manners, I’m Greef Karga.” He turns to you, and places his hand over his chest as he introduces himself, before notioning to the woman next to him, “And this is Marshal Cara Dune.”

You nod in return to the both of them, offering your own name readily. “It’s a pleasure to meet the both of you.” The both of them look surprised, confused you just gave your name, and that just confuses you.

“Well, I guess we don’t have to worry about figuring out a distinction between the two of you now, do we?” Karga chuckles out. You just look between the two of them, then to the mandalorian besides you. Weren’t they friends? Did he never bother to introduce himself? That doesn't make sense to you. You decide to let it go for now, you’ll ask him about it later.

You follow as Greef Karga leads the group of you through the city. It’s far nicer than you were expecting considering you know guild operations were being run here. There were bustling shops and children running and playing, the smell of food from nearby stalls filled the air. Colorful tapestries and awnings lined the streets, shops selling all kinds of fanciful wares.This isn’t what you were expecting at all. Cara’s marshal status must be no joke, she must be half the reason this place is running as smoothly as it is. She ends up having to part with your group halfway into town to deal with something. She’s polite when she excuses herself and makes a point to mention that it was nice to meet you before she heads out. She’s nice. Her strong exterior is only strengthened by her winning smile. You wonder how her and the mandalorian met, how they ended up friends.

The rest of your group makes it to the nearby cantina and settle at a table. The baby has fallen asleep in the pouch the mandalorian is carrying. You’re a bit surprised how nice it is inside, it's not a dirty grimy bar, but a more respectable establishment. This was clearly a place of business.

“So,” Karga starts, “I understand you're a guild member, but I don’t recognize you.” He folds his hands together on the table between you.

“My usual outpost is on Carajam.” You explain as you pull out your bounty puck and slide it onto the table in front of you. The mandalorian next to you takes out his several pucks and puts them onto the table next to yours.

“Ahh, I see, Carajam. Quite the hub that one is.” he nods gathering the pucks infront of him, but pausing before he grabs yours. “Unfortunately, I can only cash out one of these.” He holds up the mandalorian’s puck for the bomber up, “So I’ll split the reward for this one between the two of you.” “Cash mine out instead.” You nod in the direction of your puck on the table.

Karga raises an eyebrow at you, “yours? I’m sorry my friend, but there's no difference. The rewards are the same.”

“Check it, they’re not the same.” You lean back in your seat, getting comfortable. Karga looks confused as he picks up your puck instead. He activates it, and looks down at the flickering image in shock. He notions to one of the guards stationed nearby and they appear at his side almost instantly with a holopad.

“How did you get a commission price this high? On such a low level bounty too…” His voice trails off as he navigates through the menus of the holopad.

You just shrug, “Just really good at catching bounties I guess.” You relax even further, leaning an arm over on the back of your booth. Your body language is oozing confidence. He just hums lowly to himself while he continues to fiddle around on the holopad.

“I assume you use a different name for guild operations?” He looks up at you and you freeze. You haven’t had to mention your old alias in years. Your regular contact knows you well enough that you never have to supply it.

“I do. You can take it off my puck.” You try to keep cool, notioning towards the puck still sitting on the table. “It’s a guild bounty, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“I wouldn’t be a problem if I knew you maybe.” He lowers the holopad and sets it on the table before leaning forward in his seat, “I’m sorry my friend, but this is my first time meeting you, I’ve got rules to follow you know. I need to verify that it's actually your puck, and not a stolen one.” You tense at the accusation, turning the gaze of your visor to the floor beside your booth.

“This is ridiculous,” you spit out, “that's my puck, and that's my bounty frozen in carbonite. Just give me the reward.” You can’t help how defensive you sound. You really don’t want to say it outloud. It’s such a simple thing, but it feels too painful, and quite frankly you're embarrassed. Especially considering the mandalorian next to you. You realize you’re probably coming off as suspicious at this point, but you don't care. There's no way anyone could understand how difficult just saying the name he gave you out loud actually is for you.

“Look, I’m not trying to be difficult,” he reasons, changing his tone to try and sound more genuine, “But I’ll have to cash in Mando’s puck instead of yours if you won’t give me your registered name.” Your whole body is tense now. The confidence that once oozed off of you is gone. Your struggle to give up your alias is obvious to anyone, even with your helmet still on.

Finally you sigh, you can’t afford to lose those credits. “It's Laar Sennar.” You breathe out, quieter than you want. You think maybe it was too quiet for anyone to actually hear you, but then you notice the mandalorian next to you, snap the gaze of his visor to you, and you know he heard. His gaze also confirms your suspicion that he knows mando’a. Of course he does, what mandalorian doesn’t?

“Thank you, Laar Sennar. See? Wasn’t so hard was it?” Karga smiles at you then picks the holopad back up to look you up. “And there you are!” He exclaims when he finds you and looks over your file. The smile on his face fades, and before he says anything you already know what he sees, “Oh, I’m sorry about your partner.” He looks up from the holopad and gives you a compassionate look.

Despite knowing it was coming, it still stings in your chest. Just like your alias, no one mentioned him anymore unless by accident, and even that was rare. “It's fine.” Is all you can muster, but even that comes out short and forced, your hurt clearly audible in your response. You’re making an absolute fool of yourself, are these credits even worth it? You let out the lightest sigh. You’re not even sure it registers through your helmet’s modulator, but that would be for the best.

“Well, now that I’ve confirmed this puck to be yours,” Karga sets a stack of credits on the table in front of you and the silent wall of beskar next to you, and splits them in half, sliding each in their respective directions, “here are your credits. Mando, here’s your reward for your other pucks.” He pulls out some more credits and slides them over to the mandalorian next to you. “Now in regards to new jobs, I’ve got a few options. However…,” he pauses as he shifts his gaze between the both of you, “Perhaps if the two of you were willing to work together again...I’ve got a bigger job I could give you.”

“Bigger how?” The mandalorian next to you speaks for the first time in what seems like forever, and you're surprised this is what makes him speak. Was he actually considering working with you? The thought of being forced to work with him again sounds awful, it would take way more credits than Karga is about to offer you for you to take it.

“Sixty Thousand. For each of you.” You think you choke on air. Sixty thousand credits?! Suddenly working with this shiny tincan of a man doesn’t sound so bad afterall. Karga pulls out the puck and sets it on the table, “It’s not an easy job, you’ll have to work together to make sure he doesn’t escape, or you’ll be chasing him across the galaxy. Bit of a slippery one, this one is.”

“We’ll take it.” You blurt out before you even discuss it with your newly established business partner. Sixty thousand credits is too good to pass up. You look up to gauge his reaction, but he's staring directly at you already. Shit, he’s going to decline it, you just know he is. You should have known, he probably hates being around you just as much as you hate being around him. You are each just a nuisance the other can’t quite seem to shake off. Much to your surprise however, he reaches out and grabs the puck off the table, pocketing it. A silent agreement. He accepted the job. Oh thank the maker.

“It’s settled then! I’m only giving you the one job for now, come back to me when you’ve completed it and I’ll give you new ones. This one might take you both awhile.” Karga smiles brightly at you both. “Regardless, I hope the both of you will stay in Nevarro a bit longer? I can provide lodging if it means Mando here will grace us with his company awhile.”

You go to respond, but ‘Mando’ himself interrupts before you even start, “We’ll only be staying long enough for a supply run. We’ll be gone by sundown. Could you have my ship fueled up before then?”

Karga frowns at that, “Honestly Mando, when is it anything other than business with you? But of course.” He turns his gaze to you, “Well it was a pleasure to meet you, I hope to see you back on Nevarro soon.” He gives you a hearty smile, and you give him a nod in response.

“Likewise. Until next time.” You stand to leave with a wave to Karga and your new hunting partner follows out behind you.

“I’m surprised you seemed so excited to take the job.” He states amusement seeping into his tone.

“It’s like you said, Five thousand credits isn’t enough for a ship.” You shrug back at him. “Looks like we’re stuck together for a little while longer, shiny.” You continue to walk besides him passing through the main road of the city, scanning the shops for anything important. You stop at one shop in particular and start loading up on medical supplies, throwing them onto the counter. When the shopkeep tells you the price, you turn to look at your new business partner expectantly. “Well? You got paid out a lot more than I did.” You nod towards where he pocketed his credits earlier. “You turned in 4 pucks, I only had one.” You remind him. He grumbles something before throwing some credits over to the shop keep, and turning to leave before you can finish scooping up your goods. “You better be pitching in for fuel.” He grunts out as you catch up to him.

“For a trip you would have made regardless if I came along?” You scoff, “Absolutely not.” He just shakes his helmet lightly, clearly frustrated with you. You continue on your way picking up supplies for the trip, there's three of you on one ship now, so you wanted to make sure you were prepared for anything.

---------

“You know mando’a?” He asks suddenly while you're silently browsing a weapons stall, and it completely catches you off guard. You feel yourself tense up at the question, but you hope it's nothing obvious.

“Bits and pieces,” You reply cooly, “As most who know it do. It’s a dying language after all.” You shrug, never turning to look at him as you lean forward and continue to look through the various blades and blasters laid out in front of you. You hope that will be the end of it, but he keeps going.

“Your alias,” He starts, but pauses. You figure he's trying to find the right way to ask you about it, “Interesting choice.” Is what he settles on. You can’t help but let out an amused huff.

“I didn’t pick it,” you confess lightly, and you look ever so slightly over your shoulder to see he's staring right at you, waiting for you to continue. You stand up straight from where you were inspecting the weapons table, “It was given to me. A sort of…” you hum lightly to yourself trying to think of the words to describe it, “A sort of pet name I guess.” You smile underneath your helmet at the memory and turn to leave the weapons stall, deciding against getting anything.

“Pet name?” he questions, and the baby starts to fuss in the pouch on his hip. He pulls Grogu out of it, carrying him in his armored arm. The baby coos lightly as he blinks away the sleep in his eyes. You turn and tap the baby’s nose causing him to giggle, your new favorite habit you can never seem to resist.

“Mhmm,” you finally reply with a nod. “Ner kih laar sennar…” You speak out wistfully looking out at the ashy sky above you, “My little song bird...that's what he used to call me.” You scoff at how ridiculous it sounds out loud in basic, kicking a stray pebble beneath your boot in embarrassment, but the smile under your helmet never fading. You remember the first time he said it to you, how it took your breath away. It sounded so beautiful in his native language, you craved to hear him say it everyday. “When I enlisted as an official guild member it was the only thing I could think of.” You can't help but let out a laugh, you remember it clear as day. Your guild contact had asked what you wanted to be registered under, and in your panic you just--blurted it out. You’ll never forget the way he turned to you in shock, or how relentlessly he teased you about it afterwards. You’ll never forget his confession, when he had admitted how he loved the way mando’a sounded coming from your lips, and how happy he was that was the name you chose for yourself. The name he gave to you.

You’re broken out of your thoughts and back to the present when the baby starts fussing again, whining and reaching out towards something. You turn your gaze toward what he's looking at, and it’s a large, seemingly handymade, frog toy. You immediately rush over to the stall, it's full of trinkets and miscellaneous items, but there were also a lot of things for children. You pick up the stuffed frog and hold it out to the baby in the mandalorians arms. He excitedly babbles and reaches to take it from you.

“You like this one, little bug? You think shiny here should get it for you?” you bounce the toy frog up and down in your hands as if you’re speaking through it and Grogu nearly shrieks with happiness, “yeah? I agree!” You nod and turn your visor to meet the mandalorian’s and you can tell he's annoyed with you. “Well? You heard the baby!” You scold, “Better hand over those credits quickly!” you turn back to the merchant after handing the toy to Grogu and pick out some other children's toys. A small bag of blocks, some wax coloring sticks, and a colorful rubber ball that fits perfectly in your palm. “These too please,” you show the items to the merchant, and start to put them in your bag before something else catches your eye, “ohh! And two of these!” You quickly grab a couple wrapped candy bars, one for you and one for the baby.

If you’re being honest with yourself you don’t really want one, but you know this is irritating him. The fact you are so willing to spend his credits for him without asking, you can feel him seething with anger behind you...and you live for it. You turn to face him, “oh! I’m so sorry…,” you tilt your helmet at him pretending to be sympathetic, sarcasm oozing from your modulated voice, “did you want one too?”

The beskar clad man says nothing, just threateningly towers over you while the baby happily coos in his arms. You can feel the absolute seething anger he’s exuding right now, and you're sure if you were anyone else, you would be terrified. Kriff, you probably should be terrified anyways, you’re about to be alone with this man on his ship for who knows how long, but he doesn't scare you. In fact, the threatening way his visor is burning a hole into yours just fuels you to keep going, “Make that three!” You nod to the merchant and grab another candy bar from the stall, before turning to leave and continue on your way. You can’t help but chuckle to yourself as you hear the shiny idiot curse under his breath before practically throwing the credits onto the merchants table and catching up to you.

“I’m not made of credits.” He hisses out at you.

“Oh, I know.” You nod in agreement. “But look how happy he is!” You motion to the baby who is absolutely thrilled playing with his brand new toy, a luxury he's been lacking for who knows how long now. “He’s worth every spare credit. Aren’t you, Bean?” You wiggle your pointer finger at him but he's too engrossed in his new plaything to notice.

Making it back to the ship, you take the baby from the mandalorian and make a head start to the cockpit while he hands over even more credits to the one who's just finished fueling up the ship. You can’t help but snicker to yourself at your own mischievous behavior as you settle into your seat with the baby in your lap. You really just did that. This man was still a complete stranger to you and yet you just practically spent all of his newfound credits for him. That’s definitely payback for the sudden babysitting job he threw at you on Corellia, you guess you can call it even for now. Besides, how can anyone deny this precious little guy anything? You grab the floppy arm of the frog toy and wave it at the excited baby in your arms.

The mandalorian eventually arrives back into the cockpit with the two of you, irritation still apparent by the way he not-so-subtly stomps his way to the pilots seat. He doesn’t say a word as he initiates takeoff, lifting the ship off the ground and making its way through the atmosphere.

“You’re paying the next time we fill up.” He grunts out as he warps the ship into hyperspace.

“Fair enough.” You nod, continuing to play with the baby in your lap, “I’ve had my fun.”

“Oh, that's what you consider fun?” He sounds far less than amused and you can’t help the chuckle that escapes your lips.

“After what you pulled on me landing in Corellia? Oh yeah.” you nod again for emphasis.

“Trying to humiliate me in front of my bounty wasn’t enough?” He turns his seat to face you.

“Try to? Oh no, I definitely humiliated you.” you correct him, and you’re almost disappointed you still have your helmet on because he can’t see the sly grin proudly spread across your face. He just sighs and turns back towards the front of the ship. “Don’t worry though, I think we can call it even now.”

“Thank the maker.” The utter sarcasm and annoyance he has for you weighs heavy on his words, and more than anything, it only satisfies you further.

“Oh cheer up tin can! Here--,” You rifle through your go bag on the floor next to your seat and pull out the candy bars from earlier. You hold one out to him, “Here's yours.”

“Keep it.” He doesn’t even look at it. Was he really that mad at you?

“Suit yourself.” You shrug and tug off your helmet, tucking it next to you opposite of the baby. You open one and break it in half, giving one half to the baby, and wrapping the remaining half back in its wrapper. The last thing you need is to give this kid a sugar rush while you're stuck in hyperspace. You tuck it back in your bag, along with the one meant for the bitter loser next to you. You unwrap yours and take a bite when you realize--you haven’t seen the mandalorian eat once since you’ve been together. In fact, you haven't seen him take off his helmet at all. “When’s the last time you ate?” You take another bite.

“Last night. While you were sleeping.” While you were sleeping? Kriff this guy is weird.

“What? You don’t trust me enough to take your helmet off around me? We’re business partners now. I’m not going to kill you...not that the helmet would prevent me from doing so anyways.”

“I don’t trust you,” You’re about to make a snide comment back in response as you take another bite of your candy bar, but he cuts you off, “But that's not why.” He never breaks his gaze from the cockpit window. Now you're confused, what the hell does that mean?

“What's the reason then?” You question.

“My creed.” How he manages to answer your questions without actually explaining anything never ceases to piss you off.

“Your creed?” you try to emphasize the confusion in your tone, hoping he will actually explain something to you, but he just nods in response. “What creed?” Maker, he is so absolutely frustrating. You put the rest of your candy bar away, no longer interested.

“The way of the Mandalore.” You’re hoping he will keep going, but you should have known better by this point. You truly have no kriffing idea what he's talking about.

“What? So you won’t take your helmet off in front of me because you’re a mandalorian? That doesn't make sense. I knew a mandalorian, quite well mind you, and I’ve never heard of that before. He took off his helmet all the time.” This is only getting more and more confusing and his short responses are only making things worse.

“This is The Way.” He nods to himself as if he's making perfect sense. Only, he's not making any sense at all.

“Is this...creed...the same reason your friends back on Nevarro don’t know your name?” He nods again. You just stare at him, confusion lined all over your face. This is nothing like any mandalorian you knew. Not that you knew many of them. You knew mandalorians were held by a creed, but you’ve never heard of it being that intense. “So okay…,” you look around the cockpit trying to think of a way to ask more, “I’m sorry, please explain this to me, I don’t want to be disrespectful.” For some reason, that statement is the one he decides is worth looking at you for.

“To call myself a mandalorian, to wear the beskar, I took the creed as a child. Gave up my name, vowed to never show my face to anyone. A creed I must follow if I’m to continue to wear this armor, continue to be a mandalorian. It’s the reason I have to return the child to his kind. This is what it means to be a mandalorian, this is The Way.” He says every word like his soul rests in each of them. This is the most this mysterious man has ever spoken to you, and it’s with such a passion, such conviction.

You’re almost afraid to ask anymore questions. As much as you don’t like this guy, you have a lot of respect for how important this clearly is to him. You know mandalorians are big on tradition, and they each had a pretty strict code of honor, the Resol'nare. To stop following that code, to stop being a mandalorian for whatever reason was to lose your soul, “dar’manda” it was called. But this? This was on a whole other level.

“So...do--do all mandalorians take this...creed?” You try to ask carefully, you don’t want to overstep any boundaries you might not be aware of. This creed he took, it was clearly about secrecy, you weren’t sure if even asking about it might be going too far.

“I thought so…,” He looks back out the window pausing and taking a breath before continuing, “But I recently learned that wasn’t the case.” You nod in understanding, taking your gaze off him and instead to the helmet resting under your arm.

“Thank you...uh for explaining…” You’re trying to sound genuine but you’re pretty sure it just comes off awkward. He doesn’t say anything and you feel like the silence between the two of you is suffocating. You’re used to quiet, it doesn’t bother you usually, but this? This kind of quiet was different and you hated it. Not even the baby was making noise, He was slowly drifting off in your arms, and you’re almost tempted to rile him up again even if it's only to save you from the stifling silence. Almost.

“Your hunting partner,” His low modulated voice suddenly breaks the silence, and you would be thankful if it weren’t for the subject matter, “They’re the one that gave you your alias?”

You nod slowly, still peering at the helmet under your arm. “That who you got the armor from?”

“Yeah.” You nod again and you force a sad smile more at the helmet than the man speaking to you. Hunting partner...you could almost laugh. If only that's all he was to you, maybe it would hurt a whole lot less that he was gone.

The mandalorian finally looks at you again, “Were you...an item?” It’s his turn to struggle in the same way you did, trying to ask his questions without being disrespectful. This time you actually laugh, it barely comes out, but it's there.

“He was my husband.” You finally admit it to him, you aren’t sure why you’re finally comfortable enough to tell him. Maybe it's because of how vulnerable he was about his creed.

“Your husband was a mandalorian?” What a stupid question

“Yes, yes he was.” You gaze out the cockpit window at the smear of stars flying past you in hyperspace.

“That's why you keep the armor?” More stupid questions. Marker, this guy really was a dumbass. You left out a sad sigh.

“His armor is all I have left of him. I wear it to remember him, to honor him.” Your gaze meets the visor already staring at you. The stars reflecting strongly off the top of his helmet. “I will die before I let anyone take it from me. I’ll take this beskar to my grave...a creed of my own I guess.” You shift your gaze to the now sleeping baby in your arms and slowly, gently, stroke the top of his fuzzy head. You haven’t spoken about your late husband out loud in--maker, you don’t even know how long. It hurts. Your chest is aching, still just as painful as the day he left you. “He died a warrior's death. Just what every mandalorian hopes for I guess…” You can’t help but sound bitter. You sigh, “I was supposed to die with him,” You admit. You aren’t sure why you're still talking, it’s not like he asked you. Maybe it's been too long since you’ve spoken about him, you just can’t help yourself, “But he saved me.” You shake your head, and take a deep breath. “I don’t know why he did, I never got to ask, I never got the chance to even argue,” You scoff, “I wanted to die with him...but he saved me.”

The mandalorian next to you just continues to watch you as you pour your heart out. You wonder if he can tell how much it still hurts. How hard it is for you to talk about it, even after all this time. He doesn’t seem irritated, or bored, you can’t tell what he's thinking, but he's not stopping you, so you keep going.

“He was my whole life, my oathsworn, my riduur....” The mando’a doesn’t roll off your tongue in the same way it would when he said it, and maker, you wish more than anything you could hear him say it one more time. Hear him call you his Sen’ika, his cyare, mesh’la, anything. What you would give to hear him speak those sweet words to you again. “I was to stay by his side no matter where he went--and to me that meant even in death. I was prepared to follow him in death...but he took that from me, and next thing I knew I had to find a new life. I had nothing left…”

You look back up to the man sitting next to you, and you suddenly feel sick. You can’t believe you just unloaded all of that onto him. You don’t know this man, you barely met him, you don't even like him, in fact you very much dislike him. Yet here you were, pouring your heart out to him about your dead husband. You feel like there's a blade in your gut, slowly turning as it gets pushed farther in. You’re utterly embarrassed. “Sorry…” You mutter out, shifting your gaze to the cockpit floor. You can’t bear to look at him.

The mandalorian next to you doesn’t break his gaze from you. He must think you’re a fool, an utter fool, spilling your emotions onto the floor of his ship. Weak for letting your sadness sweep over you so easily. You figure he’ll never take you seriously now, throw it back in your face if you make a mistake.

“Thank you.” He nods his visor slowly once, “for explaining.” you never expected to hear your awkward words said back to you, but as awkward as they sounded coming from you, they sound so genuine coming from him. A man who barely speaks. You meet the gaze of his visor once again, before you try to play it cool, feeling way too vulnerable.

“Don’t get used to it.” You let a small smile creep over your face. Maybe this shiny beskar clad man wasn’t so bad afterall. He doesn’t say anything, and silence fills the cockpit once again, but this time it’s not unpleasant. No longer sifling, but comfortable instead.

“She by the way,” you break it, and you look to each other once again, “I’m a she.” You smile at him, “I know my helmet says otherwise, but I’m a she.” He stares at you way too long without saying anything. It starts getting awkward real fast, until he gives you a slight nod and returns his gaze to the cockpit window. What a strange guy. You lean back and get comfortable in your seat, gently stroking Grogu’s cheek while he sleeps in your arms as the three of you warp through hyperspace. ***

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