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elylandon · 3 years

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Part 1 - Chapter 16.2: Fortune Teller

Summary: You’re running for your life when you cross paths with an ex-bounty hunter and his small, green companion. You never thought you’d find someone throughout the whole galaxy who was as lost as you.

Pairing: The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,407

Rating/Warnings: M for mature content. Swearing.

Chapter 16.1

[Part 2]

Note: (Slight AU) Here’s the second and last of the epilogue chapters! Next up, Part 2 of Lost and Found. I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading! 💜🤍

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In your past, there had been days when you wondered if you’d make it to your twentieth birthday, let alone your twenty-seventh. And yet, here you were, eagerly following a Mandalorian warrior down into the hull of his ship, a green alien child giggling and bouncing in a satchel against your side, the three of you about to venture out into a strange planet to celebrate that very occasion. After everything you’d been through over the course of twenty terrible birthdays, the fact that you were experiencing pure, unadulterated happiness on such an occasion felt like a dream.

And it was all thanks to them. Your partner and his kid. The day itself didn’t matter. It was getting to spend it with them, the two people you cared about most in the entire galaxy, that made it the greatest birthday of your entire existence.

What more could you ask for?

“I have something for you,” Din said quietly, stopping just before the side ramp where you and the child were waiting patiently to disembark.

“Like a gift?” you asked, tossing him a cheeky grin.

Din huffed out that quiet chuckle of his at the familiar words and played along.

“Perhaps.”

He stepped towards his weapons locker, then halted for a moment and glanced back at you over his shoulder.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered. You did so, attempting and failing to keep your elated bouncing to a minimum. After a moment of quiet rummaging, you heard Din move back in your direction.

“Hold out your arm.”

You tilted your head a little, eyes still closed, brows bunching, and held out your right arm.

“Left,” he instructed. You made the correction.

Something cold pressed against your left forearm, encompassing it entirely. Whatever it was, it took Din a few seconds to secure before he finally told you to look. When you did, your mouth fell open and you found yourself at a complete loss for words.

The thing that now encased your left arm was a vambrace. It was very similar to the one he wore, buttons lining the belly of it, while the outside was a hard, silver shell.

“Not beskar, but it’ll do. Keep the shell on the outside to use as a shield in a fight, if you need one. The inside is set up with the same controls as mine for the Crest and the kid’s new pram. There’s room for more controls, which I’m sure you could find some uses for. But, all in all, it’ll help you avoid things like this-”

Din pointed a finger at the long scar running down your right arm, helping you understand his motivations.

“You made this?” you asked him, astonishment in your tone.

Din shrugged. “I know you’re more than capable of handling yourself if you need to. But I find myself… uncomfortable with your lack of armor.”

In other words, if you couldn’t wear Mandalorian armor like him, he’d find another way to make sure you were protected. Safe. And that spoke volumes to you. In your past life, Thasar had tried to bribe your love by giving you trinkets and pretty things. Meaningless things, without a trace of true love or thought behind them. But this...to give you something so practical, something made with your safety in mind, plus all the controls Din knew you’d enjoy messing with…

Gods, I love him.

You wanted nothing more in that moment than to whisk his helmet off and kiss him. But as you’d lamented many times now, intimate moments with Din were hard to come by. There were just too many problematic circumstances that prevented them. So instead, you lifted onto your toes and kissed the underside of his chin, right where you knew a scar to be, having spent the last weekend exploring every single one of them.

“It’s perfect, Din. Thank you.”

The rest of your birthday afternoon and evening was spent visiting the last place on your list of vacation destinations. As it turned out, this suggestion of yours triggered a memory in Din from his early childhood. One you both shared, apparently.

Going to a festival.

You’d always begged your parents to take you to one when you were younger, hearing about them from other kids your age. Evidently, so had Din. But that was before both your lives had shattered in their separate but similar ways.

Your parents had died when you were six, his when he was eight.

You felt a sense of melancholy, going to such an event without them. But your goal over the last four months had been to enjoy your freedom, and to experience all the things you had missed growing up. So you would regret not taking this opportunity to go. Especially on the last night of your respite before jumping back into yours and Din’s responsibilities; especially on your birthday.

The festival that Din was able to find was some kind of seasonal celebration, not too different from the summer events you heard about from other children on Earth. An overall celebration to kickoff the start of their warmer months. The point, though, was that it had vendors, games, food, rides, and seemingly endless entertainment.

It was perfect.

You started with food. Well, food for you and the child. The plan was to eat and shop, then make a trip back to the Crest to drop off purchases and give Din some privacy to eat something himself. The child thoroughly enjoyed the meatier options, nibbling on beef and squid skewers, while you indulged in sweeter, deep fried treats. Terrible for you, but how could you resist the opportunity? As you ate, the three of you perused the stalls, much like you did at Din’s favorite trading hubs.

The vendors mostly sold handcrafted knick-knacks and collectors items, nothing you really needed for dangerous space travel, but it was fun to window shop, and you did want to at least find a small souvenir to hold onto in order to remember this time in your life. There were a couple stalls run by craftsmen and armorers, in which you eagerly checked out, hoping to find more items to add to your growing collection of weapons. It was hard to justify spending credits on something, though, when you already had a blaster, a dagger, and now a vambrace, plus your pick from Din’s own collection.

Instead, you found a military-grade weapon cleaning kit. You purchased it while Din was examining a few blasters in the adjacent stall, and quickly stuffed it into the satchel under the child to keep him from seeing it. You wanted it to be a gift for his… well, you didn’t actually know when Din’s birthday was. You’d have to find out and hope that you hadn’t missed it in the last few months.

After a few more purchases, and a quick drop off and break back at the Razor Crest, your party returned to the festival as night began to fall and went in search of rides and games. The rides were where you lost Din. He merely stood by and watched as you and the child went from spinning in giant teacups to riding the kiddie train around the perimeter of the festivities. Din donned the satchel and kept watch over the child while you tried the rides that were a little less child-friendly. They were exhilarating and fun, of course, but you quickly realized that they were an experience you were alright with trying the one time, just to know you’d done it.

With some coaxing, Din participated more in the games, especially the marksmen ones. It didn’t matter that they were completely rigged. The vendors took one look at the imposing Mandalorian and knew they wouldn’t be conning the credits from this particular patron. In fact, a few of them bribed him with bigger prizes than what he’d initially won, just to stop him from playing any longer while people watched.

The child got a few new toys out of that.

Hours went by, more food was consumed, rides taken, games played, vendors visited, and street performers watched. While you and Din were not huge on the crowds of people, you could tell that he was enjoying himself just as much as you and the child were, even if he simply appeared to be a Mandalorian bodyguard following you around to anyone looking on. You knew it was Din here with you. The man, not the warrior.

Eventually, your energy started to flag, as well as the child’s. You could sense that Din was about to suggest calling it a night when you spotted something on the outskirts of the festival. You gasped excitedly and trotted in its direction as Din called after you, following. When you approached it, you could practically feel Din’s reservations behind you.

It was a small carriage, like the kind carried by horses in the old fairy tale books your mom used to read to you. Only, this was stationary on the side of the street, painted in deep reds, blues and golds, with soft tendrils of smoke seeping through the open back window. A large sign in front of it advertised tarot, dream, and palm reading.

A fortune teller.

“I’ve always wanted to try this sort of thing,” you gushed, turning back towards Din and gesturing at the carriage. Din’s helmet tilted, hidden gaze finding yours, body language screaming skepticism. You sighed.

“Yes, it’s most likely a complete hoax, but the point is that it’s fun.”

He said nothing.

“It’s about the-” you gestured vaguely with your hands. “-the vibe of it all. The experience.”

Still nothing.

“Okay, well you can keep standing there thinking it’s a complete waste of time, but I’m going to-”

The carriage’s door popped open then, and an elderly woman bundled up in a corset and wrapped in scarves stepped out, solidifying the stereotypical aesthetic of a medieval-looking fortune teller. She looked between you and Din before giving you a warm smile.

“Are you here for a reading?” she asked.

“Yes. Let me guess, you sensed that your next client was near.”

“No,” the woman stated, her no-nonsense tone making your smile falter. “I could hear you arguing through the open window. At first I thought you were arguing with yourself, but now I can see that it was simply a one-sided conversation.”

“Oh,” was all you said, deflating a little as Din snorted softly.

The woman gestured for you to step inside the carriage, and you quickly glanced back at Din, sticking your tongue out at him as you followed her inside. He shook his head, and leaned himself against a nearby stone wall, settling in.

The wagon’s interior looked exactly as you expected it too. An extravagant, colorful rug covered the floor, the middle of the space housing a low tea table surrounded by lounging pillows. The walls were lined with shelves, cluttered with dusty tomes, jars of various items, crystals, and candles. And you loved it! As you had tried to express to Din, visiting a fortune teller was about the entire experience, not just some stranger telling you that you’ll marry within the next five year, have three kids, and live a happy, comfortable life.

You sat on one of the pillows, eyes still taking in all the details of the wagon as you twisted the satchel around so that it and the child could sit comfortably in your lap.

“What kind of reading would you like, my dear?” the fortune teller asked as she joined you.

“I guess that depends on what you charge for each,” you admitted. She relayed her menu to you, and you decided that you could justify spending the money on a palm reading. You passed her the credits.

“Thank you,” she said, slipping them into a coin purse. “Now, all I want you to do is relax. Take in a long, deep breath, hold it for three seconds, then release it. Do that as many times as you need, and when you’re ready, hold out your dominant hand.”

You hesitated at her instructions, glancing between your right and left hands. The thought had never really occurred to you until now, but… you were right handed, unless you were using your power. It was involuntary, like a gut reaction, but you always used your left hand when you were trying to control that force.

Seeming to sense your conflict, the woman’s warm smile from earlier returned.

“How about the hand that’s been dominant the longest?”

You agreed, and performed her breathing exercise a few times before finally feeling more relaxed. When you were calm and collected, determined not to give the woman any obvious tells to use to her advantage, you held out your right hand for her to take.

The fortune teller leaned forward, bending over your palm, gingerly taking your hand in hers and-

She sucked in a sharp breath, dropping your hand and flinching back as if she’d been shocked by your skin. It wasn’t really an exaggerated reaction, and for a second, you wondered if it was an act, for dramatic effect. But then her eyes darted up to meet yours, and you knew she wasn’t trying to have you on. You read turmoil in her eyes. Turmoil and devastation.

“What’s wrong?” you asked slowly, not really sure you wanted to hear the answer. It took the woman a moment to compose herself, and when she did, her smile was now sad.

“I apologize, Y/N. The images of your past were very... overwhelming, and they took me by surprise. I shouldn’t have reacted like that.”

You stiffened, your entire body coiling, already kicking into flight mode.

“I didn’t tell you my name.”

“You didn’t tell me about the scars on your back either, but I know that they are there.”

This time it was your turn to flinch back. At that, the woman huffed, tilting her head and giving you a disbelieving look.

“Honestly my dear, you didn’t really walk into a fortune telling business with an understanding that other powers exist in this galaxy, thinking I couldn’t possibly have some psychic powers of my own, did you?”

Her demeanor helped you unclench, curiosity outweighing your instinct to run.

“I just thought that, with a shop like this, you’d be-”

“A complete and total con artist? Well girl, you can’t tell a good lie without throwing a little bit of the truth in there. You’re not wrong. I’m a very successful con woman. But that’s only because I can use what information comes to me naturally, and bullshit the rest.”

The honesty in her tone was evident, and also refreshing. You couldn’t help but chuckle at her admittance, but then a thought made you sober.

“Are your powers like mine, then? Like the child’s? We’re looking for-”

“I know,” she cut in. “ But I’m not what you’re looking for. I can only see and feel things, not move things with my mind or compel the weaker wills of others.”

You nodded, disappointed. But the chances that you’d find one of these “Jedi” before you’d even started looking were minimal at best. It was nice, however, meeting someone else with strange gifts; someone who had been able to find a way to use them without dark intent… even if it was to help her con people out of their money.

After a moment, the woman spoke again.

“I apologize again for seeing something I shouldn’t have. Sometimes, there are energies in a person that are louder than others, and at this time in your life, your past definitely seems louder than your future. But, I can tell that it’s something you don’t care to talk about. If you’d permit me to try again, there was a flash, a moment where your future was peeking through. I could focus on that, and at least give you your money’s worth for this reading.”

You were reluctant, knowing now that she could see things you rather her not see. But the damage was already done, and while you were uncomfortable, you still felt safe. You had your weapons, your powers, and your Mandalorian outside. Only moments ago, the idea of getting a reading from a hokey fortune teller was all fun and games. But now, there was the possibility that she could see something useful, something that could point you and Din in the right direction. Whether it be towards the Jedi, or Zekir, it didn’t matter. She was right. You wanted your money’s worth.

And so, you held out your hand for the woman to examine once again. She still cringed when she made initial contact, but it was very brief before her eyes fogged over with focus, her vision boring into your hand as if she could follow the path of every last nerve ending.

“I see curtains. Sheer, white curtains.”

You scrunched up your nose, perplexed.

“Curtains?”

The woman snorted. “Hey, I don’t get to choose what I see, honey. There’s a lot of interference, and what I can focus on at the moment is curtains.”

“Sorry,” you whispered, urging her to continue with your silence. When she did, her remarks were very disjointed, as if she was sifting through the loud mess of your past to see or sense the tiny tidbits of your future.

“A cabin. Warm, white and yellow colors. Home, simple, quaint. You’re joined by the presence of two others. Hard to accurately pinpoint, but I’ll use my bullshit guesswork here and say that they belong to this child in your lap and that armored fellow outside.”

You chuckled, holding back a smile.

“You’re very calm, grounded; I’d say you’re even at ease. Your past feels quieter, as a lightness fills you, exudes from your very skin. There’s simply too much to really focus on the details, but I can at least feel what you’re feeling, and it’s joyous.”

The woman tried for a few more minutes, but as she said, it was hard for her to focus on more than that. While it wasn’t the information you were hoping for, it wasn’t at all unwelcome information.

“Do you see things that are absolutely going to happen?”

The fortune teller smirked and shook her head. “Of course not. You of all people should know that the future is not set in stone. For a long time, you were convinced that you wouldn't make it to twenty. But here you are, happily celebrating your twenty-seventh birthday. I simply saw a strong possibility. But it could still change. You could wind up having purple curtains instead of white. I’ll warn you now that they would clash horribly with the aesthetic of that little cabin, but it’s a possibility nonetheless.”

You laughed and nodded. “Well, either way, thank you. That possible outcome sounds very pleasant, and I’m happy to know that it could truly happen someday.”

Just as you were about to stand to leave, the child in your lap squirmed, then reached out his own three-fingered hand, eyes trained on the fortune teller. She gave a hearty laugh, eyes dancing as she met his.

“You’d like a reading too, huh, little one? Very well. And since you’re so darling, this one’s on the house.”

The woman took the child’s hand in hers and told him that he’d have a hard but fulfilling journey, and that he’d live to be several hundred years old. You suspected that she was more the con artist in this moment, than the actual seer, until she winked at him and said he’d delightfully consume many frogs in his lifetime. That must have been the truth she used to fuel her lie.

When everything was all said and done, the woman followed you to the door, escorting you and the child out of her carriage. You beamed as Din glanced over from the wall he was holding up and met your gaze.

“Satisfied?” he asked.

“Very,” you quipped, eager to tell him back at the Razor Crest that the fortune teller was the real deal. However, before the two of you could start heading back, the woman called over, addressing Din.

“I’m going to insist that I perform a reading on you as well, young man.”

Din paused, glancing back in her direction. Young? The woman was a terrible fraud if she really thought “young man” was a fitting assumption. Granted, he wasn’t really that old, but “young man” sounded like something one would call a teenager, or a man your age.

Din kept the snark from his voice, though, when he replied. The entire charade may have been a scam, but your time with the fortune teller seemed to make you happy, so he’d at least concede that she’d helped you have a little fun on your birthday, and politely said, “No, thank you.”

“I strongly believe that you’ll regret the decision not to hear me out, Din Djarin.”

Din halted, and you gaped. You met his eye and your brows inched upward, clearly in awe that this fortune teller knew his true name. He knew you wouldn’t have told this woman, a stranger, whether you believed the con she was spewing or not. So Din sighed, and turned back to the wizened woman.

She nodded graciously at him, then stepped aside, directing him to enter her cart. Din cast another glance in your direction, and you merely shrugged. Then smirked.

What did that mean?

Din ducked into the warm cart and sat, thankful for the filtration system in his helmet. He had a feeling that the incense burning in the corner would give him a headache. The fortune teller took her seat in front of him, and watched him carefully. She was like an old crow, eyes glued on her dying target, waiting for him to take his last breath so she could feast.

“I understand that you might not believe the things I do. And that’s fine. As I told the girl, I admit that a good portion of this business is conning the gullible. However, I really am gifted with the sight, and if you truly care for that girl out there, you will want to heed what I have to say.”

So this was about you, not him. Din remained silent, reluctant to give the woman any tells. Unfortunately, while his armor hid his expressions and reactions from most people, his body language made him an open book to those who knew how to read the language. A con artist fortune teller was definitely one of those people. When she didn’t get a response out of him, she nodded, as if satisfied.

“I will start by saying this. There is darkness in all of us, Din Djarin. Sometimes people can overcome it, while others cannot. To some, it may be just a drop, or a puddle. To others, like you, it is a well. That isn’t to say that the darkness of one person is greater than another, or that the experiences of those with only a drop is anything less than those with a well. I like to think it represents how hard one has to work to become the person they want to be, in spite of the person they think they are, what a person thinks they are worth.”

Again, Din said nothing, and waited for the woman to get to the point.

“For Y/N, that darkness is a pit. A yawning, bottomless pit that she is trying so desperately to climb out of. When I was reading her, I could tell that you-- regardless of the exact parameters of your relationship with her-- were like a lifeline, a rope thrown over the edge in order to help her up. The child you are caring for together helps as well. Like a light that is guiding her out. Her muscles are sore, and her spirit is weary, but she will stop at nothing to reach the top, and find the two of you there, waiting for her. The future I gave her is one where she reaches you, and is able to bury the pit. Not entirely. But enough that she doesn’t have to fear falling into it again.”

“Are you going to warn me that you varnished her future? Doctored it up so that it was something she wanted to hear, instead of what she needed to hear?” Din asked, unable to keep the irritation from his tone.

“No. I told her of a future I really did see. But, as I told her, no future is actually set in stone. The sight is like an experiment. You can control certain variables, and arrive at a certain outcome. However, there are always external, uncontrolled variables that can come into play. For example, at one point, there was a future in which the Mandalorians never came to your rescue, and you were killed that day by that droid.”

Din’s entire body seized, and he felt the urge to roast the fortune teller and raze her cart to cinders.

“There was a future in which Y/N never found you, and she did everything in her power to end her existence during her recapture, knowing full well she wouldn’t be able to psychologically survive going back to Thasar.”

Din’s fingers clenched into a fist, and his jaw worked. Just who the hell was this woman?

“There is a future in which she climbs out of that pit. Several, in fact. However, of all the outcomes I had seen when I touched her hand, an alarming majority of them show her falling back into it.”

“So you’re warning me then, that she’ll slip, and won’t be able to climb out again,” Din stated, but the fortune teller’s frown deepened, and she shook her head, eyes clouded in sadness.

“No. I’m warning you that she won’t want to.”

Din hesitated. “I find that hard to believe. Not for one second that I’ve known Y/N have I seen her stop fighting. She’s possibly the strongest, most stubborn person I have ever known.”

“While this is true beyond more than you currently know, she is on her last leg. She has fallen, over and over again, and as much as she thinks she can bounce back each time, she can’t. If you don’t believe me, then consider how she was willing to die rather than go back to her enslavement. You know of what I’m referring to. You saw her eyes when she was back in Thasar’s grip.”

“What will happen then, if she doesn’t want to get back up?”

“There is a force in her that is, overall, fairly neutral. It’s been growing stronger, the more she’s felt love and acceptance from others in the last few months. But it has also grown stronger the more she feels hatred, and rage, and sometimes… sometimes nothing at all. If she falls, that power too will fall to her darkness, and the consequences will be irrevocable. The girl you know will no longer exist. She’ll die in that pit, and something else will climb out.”

“The past is easy to see,” the woman continued. “It’s already happened. The sight, of course, isn’t so transparent with the future. However, there is one thing I felt in Y/N with absolute certainty; there are two possible events of immeasurable grief in her future. Either one will happen, or the other. Both are devastating in their own right, but one she’ll be able to overcome. Unfortunately, with the amount of bad outcomes outweighing the good, I fear that the second instance is more likely.”

“How do I know this isn’t just some elaborate hoax?”

The old woman glared at him.

“Haven’t I proven with how much information I know of the two of you that my business isn’t a complete sham?”

“It’s all information Y/N could have easily shared during her reading.”

“I don’t need to see your eyes to know that you don’t believe that for a single second, boy.”

Din said nothing. The woman sighed.

“You know it’s all a possibility, because you’ve already seen her slipping. In that moment between her and the Twi’lek. You came around that corner, looked into her eyes and saw that pit. She didn’t even look like the girl you knew, the girl you cared about.”

The old woman stood as Din clenched his jaw. He knew damn well you wouldn’t have breathed a word of your past to a complete stranger, just like you wouldn’t have given her his name. This fortune teller was the real deal, there was no denying it. It wasn’t so far out of the realm of possibility. He’d seen stranger things. For gods’ sake, he’d watched you straight up mind control someone once.

The woman plucked something off one of her shelves and turned back to him as Din also stood.

“As a sign of my earnestness, this conversation was free of charge, as was Y/N’s reading.” She tossed him the coin purse you must have given her to pay for your reading. “In all the long years I have been with the sight, I have not once seen something so terrifying, and so devastating as that girl giving up after all she’s been through. For my own peace of mind, I hope that I have helped her in some way, and that’s enough payment for me.”

“In addition, this is the best parting advice I can give in all this. Keep looking. I can see that you will find who you are looking for. I don’t know who they are, but they have similar powers to your girl and child out there, and they know what it’s like to lose someone to their darkness. They will be able to answer some questions you have about them. And there are others you’ll meet along the way who will be able to answer some questions you have about yourself.”

Din hesitated before asking, “But meeting these people, getting those answers, it doesn’t change the certainty of the two possible events you mentioned?”

“I’m afraid not,” she murmured, tone heavy with remorse.

Din felt the woman’s sincerity, and finally, with only a small amount of reluctance, nodded, and said, “Thank you.”

He made his way to the door, but the fortune teller spoke up once more.

“She’s seen it, you know. The outcome of what you’ve been planning for some time now. It seems her powers give her some kind of sight as well.”

“What are you talking about?” Din rumbled, turning to face the woman.

“The good future I told her about. She’s seen it too. In a dream. Not that she remembers it, though, and it won’t come to pass exactly as she’s seen it. But I just thought you should know. In that ideal outcome, whenever you finally decide to make that journey, to take them both somewhere safe, it works, and she’s happy. All of you are.”

“It just depends on all the external variables that pop up between now and then,” Din stated matter-of-factly.

She smiled gravely. “Exactly.”

The fortune teller watched as the Mandalorian left her wagon. She crept over to her open window in time to see your strange group walking away, assessing as you animatedly chattered at the warrior as he led you down the street.

In this moment, you seemed so happy, just content to be accompanied by those that cared about you. And after everything she had seen in you from one simple touch-- the screaming, the pain, and the darkness-- the fortune teller couldn’t help but lament that you deserved more. For the first time, she felt like her gift was more of a curse. To see such a divide in your life, know that it was inevitable, and not be able to help you avoid it? A curse indeed.

However, you did have a Mandalorian in your corner, and a fine one at that. One that was going to be able to mend a connection that you couldn’t, and that was why she had chosen to warn him, not you. Still, the woman did not like the odds. Not one bit.

As the three of you disappeared into a throng of people, the fortune teller sent out a silent prayer to whatever gods looked over this galaxy, and murmured, “Good luck.”

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