#mando x fem!oc

[saturncodedstarlette]

Y/N, relaxes inside of Mando’s embrace : Who knew you were such a nice guy underneath your grumpy exterior?

Mando, tilted his head to look at them :

Mando, caresses their cheek with his fingertips : Don’t go telling anyone else or they’ll be disappointed to find out it’s only for you.

Y/N : and your son.

Y/N, gestures at Grogu who’s asleep inside their arms :

Mando, looks at him sleeping peacefully:

Mando, silently agrees as he’s caressing his little head :

Y/N, just snuggled more into his arms :

Bonus

#the mandalorian #Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Mando #Mando x you #Mando x reader #Mando x oc #Din Djarin x male reader #Din Djarin x fem reader #Din Djarin x gn reader #The Mandalorian x reader #Din Djarin x reader #Original : Terms and conditions By Lauren Asher #Terms and Conditions By Lauren Asher #My 2023 works

[handspunyarns]

Days Twenty-Two to Twenty-Six, Part III.

pairing: din djarin x plus-size fem!O/C         

word count: 13K      

chapter summary: Din and Marathel repair the Razor Crest, Marathel takes her first sonic shower with interesting results, Din tries to change Marathel’s mind, the Razor Crest gets unexpected visitors. 

warnings:  angst, heartbreak, female masturbation, voyeurism, mention of blood, menstruation, chldbirth, mental illness and infertility, English and Mando’a cursing      

***Please feel free to comment, kvetch, or otherwise speak your mind about my work. ***       

You Were Marked: Masterlist  

You Were Marked: <- Previous Chapter 

Marathel was in a deep sleep, curled up with Grogu on Din’s bedroll, when there was suddenly a loud ka-thunk, and everything quickly shifted sideways as she rolled into a hard surface.  She opened her eyes to near-darkness, except for glowing tiny lights of red and green.  Disoriented, she felt around her, and her hand fell upon little Grogu, who grabbed her hand tightly.  “What the …” she muttered, and then she heard running footsteps and a loud pounding on the door. 

“Wake up, Marathel!  We got problems!” 

“Wh … What?” 

“We just fell out of hyperspace!  Come out here!” 

Marathel shook herself awake and reached up to press the door button.  The door slid up, and she pulled herself out to see Din crouching by a panel halfway down the corridor.  “What’s happened?” 

“Get down here, I need your help.”  Din had been awake for a while, and he had replaced his armor and was in the process of putting his weapons on when one of the power banks had failed.  Marathel came down to where he was.  “Grab that corner, there.”  Marathel took hold of the panel where Din was pointing as he finished unlatching it.  She wasn’t prepared for its weight, and her corner hit the metal floor with a clonk, but she wrapped her fingers around the panel edge and helped him slide it down the wall.  

That task done,  Marathel stood behind him as Din knelt to tap tiny screens above each component in the rack.  “Haar’chak, the whole thing’s down.” 

“Are we in danger?” 

“We will be, if I can’t get this up and running again!”  Din stood and began taking off his blasters. 

“What should I do?” 

“Just … stand right there for right now, and don’t touch anything!” he snapped as he pulled off his pauldrons and cuirass.  “Hate this damned thing,” muttered Din as he sat on the floor and began squeezing himself into the small access crawl space to get behind the power bank.  Marathel stood silent, unmoving.  Din continued to curse and mutter as he folded himself into a working position.  “Ah … fuck me, the whole damn thing is wired wrong!” 

“Fuh!” shouted Grogu. 

“Grogu, I told you to cut that out.” 

Marathel was confused.  “Didn’t Peli just repair this ship?  Why would she wire it wrong?” 

Din sighed.  “Well, she didn’t wire it wrong, she wired it correctly, and that’s the problem.” 

“That doesn’t make any sense.” 

Din chuckled.  “I guess not.  A while ago I had to jerry-rig this wiring and the ship flies better with the adaptation.  The wires are hooked up to the wrong cart components, and it finally tripped itself.  I have to pull all these wires first, then you’re going to pull the carts as I rewire it, okay?” 

“Okay,” said Marathel, not sounding okay about it at all. 

“Just sit down there in front of the panel, I’ll let you know when I need you.” 

Marathel sat, listening to Din grunt and quietly curse to himself as he did whatever he was doing.  “Did you get any rest?” she asked. 

“Don’t talk to me right now,” said Din.  “I’m trying to not electrocute myself.” Marathel sat silently.  Grogu toddled over to join her, and she held him on her lap as they waited for instructions.  “And yes, I got some rest.  Are you all right?” 

Marathel shifted slightly, then swallowed.  “Yes.” 

Behind the power panel, Din coughed to cover up his discomfort, then said, “Okay, we’re going to work from your left to your right.  Grab the handles of the first cart and pull it out halfway.” 

Marathel grasped the handles and gave the thing a tug, but it didn’t move.  “What’s halfway on this thing?”  She pulled again, much harder, and the whole thing pulled out of the wall and landed on the floor. 

Din sighed.  “Half of what you just did.” 

“Did I just kill us all?” 

“Not yet. Just put it back in, halfway, and wait for me to get the right wire connected.” Marathel did as he instructed and waited.  After a short while, Din said, “Okay, slide the cart back in fully.”  Marathel carefully pushed the cart back in, giving it a hard shove to seat it correctly.  “Did lights come on?” 

“Yes.” 

“What does the screen say?” 

“Screen?” 

“There’s a small screen in the middle of the cart.  What does it say on the screen?”  Marathel was silent.  “Marathel, just read what’s on the screen!” 

“I can’t.” 

“You can’t see the screen?” 

“I can’t read, Din, I told you that!” 

There was a long silence. Din groaned quietly.  “She can’t read.”  Din chuckled, and Marathel heard his helmet clank against something.  “Yes, you told me, I forgot.  Okay, change of plans.” Din shifted around and began pulling himself out from behind the power bank.  “You need to do the rewiring, then.” 

“Me?” 

“Yes, you.  Each wire goes between two metal plates that you use this screwdriver to tighten.”  He handed her a small tool with a flat end.  “Go on, get back there.” 

“What makes you think I’ll fit?  You had a hard time squeezing in there!” 

“You’ll fit just fine.  Now get going before we lose backup power.” 

Marathel glared at Din, but she put the screwdriver in her pocket and fed her feet into the small access opening, as she’d seen Din do, and began pushing herself through.  “I have no idea what you need me to do back there.” 

“You’ll figure it out by the time you’re done.  You only have … um …” Din counted on his fingers as he said, “‘Bad Boys Rape Our Good Girls But Violet Gives Willingly, Got Some’ … twelve.  Twelve wires.” 

“Bad Boys do what?” 

“‘Bad Boys Rape Our Good Girls But Violet Gives Willingly, Got Some.’  It’s how I remember the wiring colors.  Black, blue, red, orange, green, green, blue, violet, grey, white, gold, silver.” 

“You said green and blue twice.” 

“They’re different wires.  You’ll see.” Marathel grunted in disgust, and Din swore he heard her mutter osi’kovid under her breath as she struggled to get back behind the panel.  “What did you just say?” asked Din. 

“I called you an osi’kovid!” 

Din chuckled to himself.  “Do you even know what that means?” 

“I know it’s nothing good.”  Marathel looked at the tangle of wires before her, then at the bank of metal plates.  She looked carefully at the connection of the black wire that Din had completed.  “So blue is next?  Which blue?” 

“It’s solid blue, not the striped one.  You have to put the end of the wire where the coating is stripped off, put that end between the two plates, and tighten the screws to lock it down.” 

“I’ll do my best.” Marathel found the solid blue wire and pulled it loose from the tangle.  The bare end touched another wire’s bare end, and Marathel felt a zzzt sensation that was painful.  “Aigh!” 

“Don’t let the ends touch,” said Din. 

“Now you fucking tell me!” snapped Marathel. 

“Fuh-EE!” shouted Grogu, and Din shushed him. 

Oh, good, the ‘child repeating swear words’ days are upon you, Bounty Hunter, have fun with that, wryly thought Marathel.  She carefully placed the wire end between the plates and placed the flat end of the … screwdriver, that’s what he called it … into the slot of the screw head and turned it, but the tiny screw fell to the floor with a ting.  “Oh no …” 

“You must have turned the screwdriver the wrong way.  It’s lefty loosey, righty tighty.” 

“What?” 

“Turn the screwdriver left to loosen the screw, and right to tighten it.” 

“I can’t find the little screw.  It fell out.”  Tears filled her eyes, and Marathel sobbed.  “I don’t know what I’m doing, Bounty Hunter …” 

“Marathel …” 

“I’m going to kill us all …” 

“Mesh’la, honey …” — honey? Where did that come from? — “It’s going to be fine.  You can do this.  The screw is on the floor right in front of you, I guarantee it.  Just take a breath and look for it again.”  He heard Marathel sniffle, then take a shaky breath.  He pulled the cart halfway out and waited.  After a few moments, he heard her whisper righty tighty.  “Tighten the top screw a little, then the bottom screw a little.  Go back and forth to tighten then evenly.  Make the connection good and tight.”  He waited a few moments.  “Got it?” 

“I think so.” 

“All right, then,” said Din as he slid the cart back into its socket.  Moment of truth, he thought, and the readout screen flashed its green message: Override Ready.  “You did it, mesh’la, good job.” 

“Next one is red, yes?” 

“Yes,” replied Din as he slid out the next cart. 

“Red for rape,” said Marathel as she carefully found the red wire and inserted it into place.  “‘Bad Boys Rape Our Good Girls,’” she scoffed. “I think you need a different way to remember this.” 

“Come up with one, and I will.” 

“Oh, I will.” Din heard Marathel grunt softly as she concentrated on her task.  “There.  Done.” 

Surprised, Din said, “That was fast.”  He slid the cart home and override ready flashed.  “Green next.  Light green.” 

“Light green …” repeated Marathel as she untangled the wires, and she shocked herself again.  “Aigh!” 

“You need to be more careful,” said Din. 

“You’re the one that left me this tangled mess, you … cigpell pudyn!” snapped Marathel, attaching the light green wire.   

“And what does that mean?” 

“It means meatball dick!”  

Din burst out laughing.  “Meatball … meatball?”  He was laughing so hard he snorted.  “That doesn’t even make sense!” 

Marathel grumbled as she tightened the tiny screws.  “Light green is done!” 

Still laughing, Din reset the cart and got an error message.  “No good, try resetting the wire.” 

“The wire is fine,” said Marathel, gently tugging the wire. 

“Not from where I’m sitting.  Try it again.”  Din listened to Marathel mutter under her breath as she loosened the wire.  “You may need more wire lead.  Peel back some of the green covering and reset it.”  Marathel did as Din instructed, but he still got the error message. “I don’t know what, Marathel, but you’re doing something wrong.” 

Of course, it’s my fault.  “Are you sure it’s not supposed to be the dark green wire first?” 

“Positive.” 

Marathel sighed.  “Can we try the dark green wire, at least?” 

Din sighed as well.  “Fine.  Go ahead.”  He pulled out the cart again.  “And you, of all people, know that my pudyn looks nothing like a meatball.” 

“It might after I throw a big enough rock at it,” said Marathel archly.  “Okay, try it now.”  Din replaced the cart.  “Well?”  Din was silent.  “Was I right?” 

“Yes,” he muttered. 

“Okay, then.  Now it’s the light green wire, yes?” 

“Yes.” 

“And who is a cigpell pudyn?” asked Marathel with as much snark as she could muster.  “Well?” 

“… I am.” 

Marathel chortled.  “Good boy.”  She continued down the row, replacing the wires in order as Din replaced the carts.  When they got to Violet and the purple wire, Marathel asked, “So, who’s this Violet who Gives Willingly?” 

“No one.  It just works in the phrase.” 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“Can’t help that,” said Din.  There was no way in Frith he was going to tell her that while her name wasn’t Violet, a particular prostitute he had been fond of at one time had a magnificent head of purple hair that set off her deep, dark green skin.  Damn, she was fine, thought Din, wondering where she was these days. 

Marathel rolled her eyes, but she carried on with her task.  Din had been right, Marathel got very proficient with the screwdriver by the time she was tightening up the gold and silver wires, and she felt quite proud of herself.  Well, Marathel, old girl, not half bad.   

Din, on the other side of the power bank, felt pride on her behalf as well — Marathel wasn’t lacking in intelligence; she could follow instructions and tackle new tasks, was willing to get her hands dirty — and he was sure that the nimbleness in her hands and fingers would make her a great assistant mechanic. What a team we’d make, thought Din, and his heart warmed with the possibility.  “All right, Marathel, good job.  Now I’m going to fire this thing up.” 

“You are?  Am I safe back here?” 

“More or less.  Just don’t touch anything.”  Before Marathel could protest, Din flipped the switches, the power bank turned on, and the engines came to life with a dull roar.  “Dank ferrik, yes!” crowed Din.  “Okay, you can come out now!  Don’t forget the screwdriver!”  Marathel rolled her eyes as she put the screwdriver that she came in with — as well as two more she found under the tangle of wires — into her pocket, and she began to wriggle out from the tiny crawl space.  Din reached in to help pull her out, and he gave a strong tug on her just as she pushed hard on a girder with her feet, and Marathel tumbled into his lap as he fell backwards.    

She looked up at him in surprise as she lay on his legs, her face at level with his belt buckle.  Din continued to hold her hands as he gazed at her, mostly reclining on his elbow, thinking how damn cute she looked with engine smut on her face and hands, her hair and clothes disheveled. Marathel’s face colored that becoming shade of pink that he liked so much as she pulled her hands free and rolled off his legs to sit on the floor.  Din sat up too, and gently put his hand on her back.  “You did good, Marathel.  I’m proud of you.  I would have hated to do that job by myself.” 

Marathel handed Din all three screwdrivers. “How would you have done that?” 

“Ugh.  I would have had to crawl out each time, after connecting each wire.  Terrible.”  Din grunted as he stood up and reached down to help Marathel stand.  “You got a little dirt on your face,” he said, touching her cheek with a gloved finger. 

Marathel shied away, saying, “I’m sure I did.  It’s filthy back there.” 

“Engines generally are.” 

Marathel hummed vaguely as she moved to the basin at the far end of the ship.  Din watched as she found the soap and a towel and poured out a tiny bit of water from her canteen into her hands.  “Marathel, what are you doing?” asked Din, confused. 

Marathel dropped the towel on the floor as she stepped back from the basin, dropping her head, sliding her hands into her sleeves.  “Washing my hands,” she whispered. 

“You’ve been using your drinking water to wash your hands?” 

“I thought that was all the water I was allowed,” said Marathel, pointing briefly at the canteen. 

“That’s for drinking.  You may drink as much water as you wish. You haven’t been drinking your water?”  Din came over and lifted the canteen; it was still nearly full. “Is this the same water I originally gave you?  It’s easy to get dehydrated on long hyperspace hauls. You should be drinking more, Marathel,” Din said sharply. 

“I didn’t know …” 

“Drinking water is there for the taking, just like the food, Marathel!  You don’t have to hoard or conserve drinking water!  There’s a basin in the fresher to wash in that’s hooked up to the water recycler …” Din watched Marathel continue to cringe into herself.  “… which I never showed you.”  Din sighed.  “I didn’t show you the fresher, or where the cleaning papers for the vac tube are, or where I keep the spare blankets, for kriff’s sake.”  He noticed her shoulders shaking, and he realized she was crying.  “Oh, mesh’la, please don’t cry …” Din went to her and wrapped his arms around her. 

“I’m sorry I’m so stupid,” whimpered Marathel, keeping her arms tightly against herself, refusing to hug him back, despite how much she ached to do so. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m the stupid one who’s been rude and insufferable to you.  Everyone I’ve ever known automatically knows where to find everything on a ship like this, and it never occurred to me that you wouldn’t, although, why would you know?  The only time you’ve been on this ship for any length of time, you were injured.  Unconscious.”  Din sighed and rocked her back and forth as he quietly said, “I’m sorry I’m such an osi’kovid.” 

Marathel sniffled, then asked, “What does that mean?” 

“Shithead.” Marathel chuckled, and Din continued, “And I’ve also been a … what is it?  A tymffod.  What does that mean, mesh’la?” 

“Asshole.” 

“Yeah, I’ll take that.  And a cigpell pudyn, if that helps.  And a knob, too, I heard that one from you, earlier.” Din held her tight and stroked her hair, glad to know that he could again safely hold her like this without acting like a sex-starved maniac.  “Marathel, ma’mwsh ha’laa, I wish … I wish you’d just … stay right here, or anywhere else, other than ...” Din’s voice trailed off. 

Marathel swallowed, then pushed Din back, wiping her cheeks, and looked down to her feet.  “I appear to have grown a Grogu again.” 

Din looked down too, still surprised by the shoes on her feet, seeing Grogu holding tightly to Marathel’s ankle.  He sighed.  Apparently, the moment of closeness with Marathel was over.  “Come here, kid,” said Din, bending down to pick up the boy.  “Did you take good care of Mahr last sleep cycle?” 

“Mama,” said Grogu. 

“Mama,” repeated Din. 

“We slept well until everything went sideways,” said Marathel. 

“We’re back up and running now,” said Din.  “Let’s get this panel back on.” 

“Okay.  Oh — before we do that …”  Marathel dropped down her knees by the access hatch, reached in, and pulled out a square of black insulation foam.  “I found this just lying in there.  May I use it?” 

“Of course,” said Din, assuming she’d use it to sit on while she knitted.  That was why it was in the access tunnel in the first place, to sit or kneel on while he had to tinker around in there.  Together they got the panel back in place, then Din said they needed to strap in to get back into hyperspace.  Marathel climbed the ladder first, giving Din another view of her ample backside as she went up, making him wish that they were in a romantic relationship, on good terms, just so he could playfully smack her on that lovely ass.  This thought left him with a wistful feeling as he followed her into the cockpit with Grogu.  Marathel was seated and struggling with the straps, so he knelt before her, placing Grogu in her lap, carefully untwisting the restraining belts and snapping them closed, letting his hands slide off her thighs as she stared at him with wide eyes. 

“Don’t do that,” she whispered, not frightened of him, but of the thrill his touch sent through her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, even though he wasn’t.  He stood and went to his seat to recalculate the jump to hyperspace, wondering in the back of his mind if she needed to lock herself in his quarters again, as he felt like he was already at half-staff.  He looked back at her.  “Ready?” 

“Ready,” said Marathel with an uncertain smile.  

Din turned back to the console and pulled the throttle, sending them shooting forward in space.  Marathel felt her stomach change places with her liver and wondered if she’d ever get used to this hyperspace thing.  Once they were settled in their path, Din undid his safety straps and stood, saying, “Much better.  Thank you for helping out.  Okay, let’s go back down.”  He released the catches on her restraints, letting his hands linger briefly on her hips before descending the ladder. 

Marathel followed with Grogu.  “I hate this ladder already.” 

“Believe me, I avoid leaving the cockpit as much as possible,” said Din, and Marathel chuckled to herself as she thought, I guess he does piss for distance.  Din pressed a pad on the wall next to the power bank panel, and a door slid open, revealing another tiny room.  Din stepped inside.  “The fresher.  Here is where you can switch from sonic to the water option.” 

“Sonic?” Marathel also stepped inside the fresher and had to stand close to Din for both of them to fit. 

“Sonic means the fresher uses sound waves to remove dirt and oils from your skin.  The water is recycled, but it doesn’t get very hot, and it’s not hot for long.” 

Marathel looked dubious.  “Which would you prefer I use?” 

“It’s up to you. I generally use the sonic setting, and then wash my face with warm water in the basin.  It can get gross in the helmet from time to time,” said Din with a shrug. 

“Well, I guess I’ll follow your example.”   

Din nodded and opened the storage bin.  “Here is facial soap,” he said, handing her a tube.  “Did you want to wash your hair, though?  The sonic does okay for my hair, but I keep my hair short … as you saw,” he added quietly. 

Marathel pulled a handful of her hair over her shoulder and looked at it.  “I’ll see what the sonic does for me.”   

Din found her a clean washcloth and a small towel.  “Okay, so it’s set on sonic, and you just have to press this button here to start.  Then you stand over the drain, there, and the cycle will run for a few minutes.  It’s on a timer, so if you’re not clean to your satisfaction, you can just press the start button again.  The button below that opens and closes the door.” Din stepped back to the doorway.  “There’s no lock, but I’ll take Grogu with me back to the cockpit and close that door.  You’ll have complete privacy down here.  Did you need anything else?” 

Marathel shook her head.  “Thank you.” 

“Of course.”  Din took Grogu back, catching some of her hair as he did.   He untangled her hair from his glove and smoothed it over her shoulder before he stepped out of the fresher. 

“Oh, by the way …” said Marathel, and Din turned back to her.  “‘Beautiful Blossoms Rise Over Green Grass, Blooming Vines Grow With Good Sunshine.’” 

Din tilted his helmet.  “Do what?” 

“‘Beautiful Blossoms Rise Over Green Grass, Blooming Vines Grow With Good Sunshine,’” repeated Marathel.  “To remember your wiring by.” 

Din smiled widely under his helmet.  “I like that much better.  Just knock if you need anything.”  Marathel nodded, and Din and Grogu returned to the cockpit. 

Marathel heard the cockpit door close, and she poked her head out of the fresher to look.  Not seeing either Bounty Hunter or a little boy, she found her bag and brought it to just outside the fresher.  She pulled off her top and pants and folded them into a neat pile, then went to quickly use the vac tube, tossing her used pad into the tube before toggling the contraption.  Thank Frith, it seems I’m finally bleeding less.  Returning to the fresher, Marathel carefully removed the dilator from her and placed it in the basin so she could wash it after her shower.  Or would it be called a sonic? she wondered.  Marathel pressed the button to close the fresher door, then she pressed the button to start.  

Right away, she heard a low vibration and felt it in her bare feet.  Marathel stepped over to the drain as Din had directed. She felt the vibrations growing more powerful, and she could see the dirt leaving her hands, almost as a swath of sand would blow off a flat rock.  She marveled at this, and she felt the vibrations as a massage that trembled through her entire body.  The vibrations became stronger and faster, and they seemed to center low in her belly.  After a short time, the vibrations grew even more powerful, and the sensation became warm and pleasurable as Marathel gasped, realizing she was becoming aroused. 

Oh, no, she thought to herself.  No, I don’t want this!  But her body betrayed her as the vibration of the sonic shower continued to titillate instead of soothe. Marathel reached down and pressed her hand against her pubis, seeking a release from her stimulation.  When that didn’t work, she flattened her front against the cool metal wall of the fresher, which only worked for a few moments as her feverish heat warmed the wall.  Her breasts began to ache, so she pressed them harder into the unyielding metal as she reached between her thighs, gently sliding her fingertips over her clitoris. She gasped again, this time with a throaty groan, and she clapped her free hand over her mouth.  Oh, Frith, what can he hear in that cockpit? 

Din had, in fact, heard her groan; the auditory capabilities of his helmet were quite powerful. The fresher was also situated almost directly below the cockpit, and sound carried through the floor.  Over the years, he’d become accustomed to the fresher being the official wank closet and the noises that would emanate from within the times he’d be traveling with someone. On several memorable occasions, he’d traded visits to the sonic shower for a bit of companionship from female bounties (and a couple of male ones, too, he wasn’t too particular if someone wanted to make it worth his while).   But he’d heard — through that unreliable horny mercenary grapevine — that sonic showers could provide some females with sexual stimulation.  And this was the first time a woman was in there where he’d heard her possibly masturbating.   

Din looked back at Grogu, who was quietly occupying himself with the gear knob and a ball of Marathel’s yarn, using the Force to make them fly in complicated patterns.  Din looked back out the view screen, pulled his flight notebook onto his lap, and turned up the receiver in his helmet.  Concentrating his hearing on the room below, he listened to what he believed was Marathel touching herself, wondering if it was only the sonic waves bringing her off, or if she were as frustrated as he was, being so close together, denying the feelings she had for him. 

And oh, Marathel was frustrated, and confused as well; why was she having these desires, when they should be the last thing on her mind?!  But she kept pressing her breasts against the wall as her hand stroked herself, softly, gently, not even attempting penetration, for she was still so fragile and wounded there; she did not think she would be able to bear that, not only physically, but mentally as well.  As her fingers continued their playful touches on her bud, she began to rock her hips, gasping in tiny, quiet moans.  She kept rocking, the motion setting off delicious twitches inside her as she flexed her muscles in her hips, belly, and buttocks, and her fingers strummed her swollen clitoris.  Oh, you taught me, Din, you taught me well, how wonderful this feels!  I wish it were you touching me like this; if you were, I would pleasure you in any way you wished, I would make you bread for eternity, I would trap myself in the smallest flying metal box for you.  Her twitching hips moved more frantically as she began to crest into her orgasm.  She slid her free hand up her body and began gently tweaking her nipple, making her gasp again. She squeezed her thighs and tried to flex her pelvic floor — a hitherto unknown part of herself, brought to her attention by Eliadu — as hard as she could.  Her other hand alternated tapping and stroking her clit until she finally tipped over the edge and climaxed; her mouth worked noiselessly, and her eyes closed, her knees bent, and her fingers pressed hard against her clitoris, feeling her pulse within, counting the beats of her rushing heart. 

The sonic vibrations of the fresher slowed, and then stopped.  Marathel finished riding out her orgasm with a last breathy gasp, and she sank to the floor, relishing its coolness against her flushed, warm skin.  Breathing hard, Marathel rolled to her back, stretching out her limbs.   

In the cockpit, Din felt like the most lecherous type of voyeur, eavesdropping on Marathel below.  He’d just taken another look back at Grogu, and the kid was crashed on the seat of the aft chair, snoring softly.  Under the guise of adding entries into his ship’s written log — he preferred writing them out in longhand —he listened to Marathel touching herself; Marathel, who was so recently brutalized at the hands of others, giving herself pleasure with her own hands.  Her gasps were quiet and small, leading him to think that she was using the gentlest of touches, the softest of strokes of her fingertips against her delicate skin.  The notebook on his lap concealed his erection, and he wished he could stroke himself to the sounds Marathel was making, but Grogu’s presence made that infeasible. Oh, Marathel, I wish I were in there with you, touching you myself, I would be so gentle, and touch you only where you allowed, with only the lightest, the most tender of caresses, I wish we could be alone, where I could give you such soft touches until you came for me, and you could scream my name as loud as you want to, mesh’la!  He wanted her to be a screamer for him, a blanket-stealing, bread-baking, soft, plush, magnificent screamer of a lover, he was certain that she was coming in the room below him, coming hard like she had every time with him, and he was close to coming himself when he heard her moaning, but in pain. 

In the fresher, Marathel’s breathing slowed and she began to feel chilled in the small room.  She had carefully sat up when she felt a cramp rip through her lower belly, and she moaned as quietly as she could.  Oh, no, not now, not my cycle, why am I not done with that, as old as I have learned that I am?  She fell back to her side, waiting for the next wave of cramps that would inevitably come, pain that would fold her in half, unable to move.   

But that sort of pain didn’t come.  There was pain within her, but not in the muscles of her abdomen.  The pain seemed lower, deeper inside.  Marathel looked down at herself, expecting blood, and there was blood, but not the amount she was accustomed to with her cycles.  She felt her muscles quake again, and she moaned, and then she felt the need to push, that there was something within her vagina that she needed to expel. 

What in Frith was happening to her? 

Fennec had told her she wasn’t pregnant, Eliadu had told her that she couldn’t get pregnant, yet, here she was, trembling and moaning on the floor, feeling as if she was about to give birth to something, for the sensations she was feeling within was unlike but somehow strangely similar to all of her previous cycles, when she would pass clot after clot … 

There was a knocking on the fresher door.  “Marathel?”  Din was worried, almost panicked, all of his licentious thoughts gone.  “Are you all right?” 

Marathel gasped, and her head whipped around towards the door.  “I’m fine, I’m … fine …” Her abdominal muscles contracted again, making her voice waver on the last word.   

“You’re in pain, I heard you moaning …” 

“You were listening?!” 

“No! No …  Just now, I heard you …” 

“How could you LISTEN like that?!”  The need to push became overwhelming, and she groaned as she felt blood running down her thighs.    

“Marathel!  I’m coming in!” 

“NO!  Don’t you DARE come in!” 

“Let me HELP you!” cried Din. 

“I don’t NEED your help!” Marathel shouted back.  “I … don’t need … ANYONE …” She rolled to a deep squat on her feet and hands, grit her teeth, and bore down on whatever it was her body was trying to release.  She reached down between her legs, and could just feel something gelatinous inside her, so she took another deep breath and pushed again.  This time she felt a mass exit her vagina, and she went to her knees, trying to catch her breath.  And here I thought I’d never give birth, but I think I just did, thought Marathel.   

Din knocked on the door again.  “Marathel?  Mesh’la?  Please, talk to me!  What is happening?” 

“I’m okay … I’m all right,” weakly said Marathel.  She reached behind her, finding the mass she’d just expelled with her fingertips.  What in Frith?  She moved herself to a position where she could see whatever it was, a dark red-brown clot, about the size of a gorugelly, that contained clumps of what appeared to be crusted flesh.  Marathel realized what had occurred: she had passed a clot of scabs made by the cauterizing of the worst of the wounds made by the Dilimgau.  Ceiroprac had told me I might shed those, though Marathel.  I didn’t think I’d be so damn dramatic about it though! How typical of me, thought Marathel.  She laughed weakly at first, and then louder as she realized how absurd her life was. 

Outside the fresher door, Din was bewildered by the sudden sound of laughter on the other side.  “Marathel?  If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I’m coming in there.” 

“Oh … calm down, Din, for the love of Frith!  I’ll be fine.  The sonic waves shook loose some … internal scabbing, and I wasn’t expecting that.” 

Internal … oh, he thought, remembering that Marathel had refused reconstruction where she had been so badly damaged by the Dilimgau, but had wounds cauterized instead.  “I’m sorry, ner kar’ta. Are you still in pain?  Are you bleeding badly?” 

“I … some.  But I’ll be all right.” 

“What can I do for you?” Din pleaded. 

Marathel squinted up at the switch he had told her toggled the fresher between sonic and water.  “Would it be all right if I turned on the water?” 

“That … the water won’t be very warm.” 

“I don’t mind cold water.  But there’s blood, and … clots.  Can that go down the drain in here?” 

Din sighed.  “Not a large amount of blood, and I’d rather any solids didn’t.” It was a decent recycling system, but not that good. 

“Then please bring me rags and a bucket, or something, so I can clean this up.” 

“Damn it, Marathel, let me do that for you!” He found a large towel.  Going back to the fresher door, he turned his head away and closed his eyes.  “I’m going to open the door now.  My eyes are averted.”  Before Marathel could protest, he opened the fresher door and stepped backwards into the doorway, holding out the towel behind him.  “Here; wrap yourself in this.”  He felt the towel being snatched from his hand.  “Let me know when I can turn around.” 

Marathel wrapped the towel around her, covering as much as she could.  Leaning into the far corner, she quietly said, “Okay.” 

Din turned around, his eyes seeking out Marathel.  Her back was to him as she faced the corner of the fresher, the towel only covering her from mid-thigh to mid back, unable to wrap around her fully, and she had pulled her hair over her shoulder to cover her front.  I should have brought her blanket, thought Din; he had again forgotten that she was a little more full-figured, and needed more coverage than a standard cheap towel would provide, because all he could ever see was that her form was perfect. 

There were drips of blood running down her inner calves. Din looked over to the drain, seeing a small puddle of blood along with the remains of a large viscous clot, as well as bloody prints of both her hands and bare feet on the floor.  Din removed his gloves and rolled up his sleeves.  He grabbed the washcloth and went to the basin to soak it, seeing the bloody dilator in the basin.  He looked over at Marathel just as she looked over her shoulder, and she flushed pink again, turning her face back to the corner.  Din’s eyes went down her back, still covered with welts, and he watched another drop of blood roll down her leg, dismayed at how much she still had to suffer just to heal.   “Will you at least let me take you to a medical facility?” 

“How would you explain my injuries?” 

Din soaked the washcloth and knelt by the large clot, doing his best to not look at it too much as he scooped it into the other small cloth.  “The same story as before … you’re a runaway sex slave.” 

“What if they don’t believe you?” 

“They don’t ask many questions on a bounty.” 

“Then why didn’t you take me there instead of Tatooine?” 

Din began mopping up the worst of the blood, deciding to tell the partial truth.  “I wasn’t too capable of logic at the time, my head being bashed in and all.” I was too afraid to put you in the hands of strangers. 

Marathel looked at him over her shoulder.  “What’s that?  On your wrist?” 

The yarn bracelet.  He’d forgotten. He carefully wrapped the stained towels together.  “Nothing.” 

Marathel frowned.  From what she could see, it was some sort of … adornment made from green, yellow, and brown yarn, the same colors she and Grogu had used to tie on the poosticks. “I don’t remember you having that before.” 

Din did not answer her; instead, he took the bloody cloths and disposed of them in the vac tube and came back to wash his hands, looking away from the dilator.  He opened the storage bin and pulled out a bottle.  “Here is shampoo if you’d like to use it.”  Marathel watched as Din stashed another, smaller bottle in his pocket, wondering what that could be that he needed to hide it; it wasn’t like she read the damn label, after all.  He turned a dial on the wall.  “Now you’ll have water.  The same switch will turn it on.  I’ll leave another towel outside the door.  Okay?” 

“Thank you.  I’ll be quick; I don’t want to waste your water.” 

“Please, don’t … don’t worry about that.  Take all the time you need.  Or at least all the cold water you can stand.” 

“Thank you, Din.” 

Din gazed at her, still pressed into the corner, naked but for her long hair and a scanty towel.   

She is so soft, so beautiful.  So sad.   

So broken. 

“You’re welcome, Marathel.”  He grabbed his gloves, left the fresher, closing the door behind him.  She called me Din, he thought.  I’m Din again. 

Marathel remained crowded into the corner of the fresher for a while after Din left her alone, mind racing, bewildered again by the Mandalorian Bounty Hunter.  Ashamed as she was that he’d heard her before, that he’d listened to her as she … but he had come running to her when he thought that she was hurt, just as he’d come running when she called for him when Grogu had put her in a tree.  Just like how he’d taken her broken body away with him when he left Unmanarall.  And what had she done for him?  Fed him meals, baked him bread, given him some physical pleasure? 

Broken his heart? 

Tears threatened again, chipping away at her resolve, trying to make her forget why she was insisting on going back … and the reasons for doing so were growing less and less important. 

Marathel tried to turn off her addled brain as she went over to the fresher controls and turned on the water.  Stepping under the aerated spray, she expected cold water, but what she experienced instead was something even more frigid than her waterfall during the deepest part of cold season.  Chilled almost instantly to the bone, Marathel shrieked, “GAIAH!!!!” 

In the cockpit, Grogu had woken up, and was cuddled on Din’s lap when Marathel’s surprised scream reverberated through the ship.  Oh kriff, thought Din as he hurriedly turned down the reception volume on his helmet.  Then he chuckled and patted Grogu’s tummy, saying, “I think I forgot to tell Mama to let the water run for a minute before getting in.”  Grogu frowned up at him, folding his ears down.  “Yeah, she’s gonna throw a rock at my pudyn for sure.” 

Later, Marathel was clean and dressed again.  It took a while before she got warm, though, after nearly freezing herself in the fresher.  The water did eventually get mildly warm, but nowhere near enough to offset how cold the water was initially.  Osi’kovid, thought Marathel.  And after I helped him fix this flying metal box!  

Marathel dressed in her other set of blue clothes, the thick socks Cobb had given her, and then finally her blanket.  She figured out the drinking water dispenser and helped herself to Din’s tiny galley storage, finding the container of tea.  She made two cups of extra-hot tea, a cup of bone broth, and cut a loaf of Silnima’s sweet squash bread into thick slices.  Carrying one cup of tea and the cup of broth, she went up to the cockpit access.  “Din?” 

She heard his feet drop heavily to the floor, and he was up and looking down at her in a flash. “Mesh’la?” 

Marathel pursed her lips at the endearment, and said, “Here is broth for Grogu, and tea for you.”  She placed the cups, each with a slice of sweet bread on top, at Din’s feet.   

Din quickly dropped to one knee and was just able to touch her fingers briefly as she let go of the cups.  “Thank you, Marathel.” 

“When Grogu is finished, would you please send him with the cups back to me?  I finished knitting something for him.” 

“Of course.” Marathel nodded, then disappeared from view.  Din stayed there, on one knee, long after she’d left, just listening to her moving around on his ship, humming the only song, digging through drawers in the galley, sipping her tea, vocalizing her Oldtalk to the melody of the only song now and again.  Grogu came and snagged his sweet bread and his bone broth and sat next to Din, enjoying his snack and listening to his Mama while Din thought about doing a U-turn, taking her to his covert and presenting her to the Armorer as his choice for riddurr. 

But then, Din sighed and reconsidered. Kidnapping a bride was Paz’s style, not his.  And being an Apostate meant a riddurrok was out of the question until he could redeem himself.  So, he sat down next to his boy and drank his tea and ate the bread, lifting his helmet only enough to do so.   

Below, Marathel had settled herself on Din’s bedroll and was using the black insulation foam as a base to felt the wool roving Cobb had bought for her.  Lacking a felting tool, she’d dug through all the drawers she had been able to open and found three pointy things that she tied together to make an ersatz stabber, as she called it.  She drafted the wool into little bits of fluff, which she spread in layers on the foam, using the three-pronged improvised tool to stab it into the foam over and over and over.  This part was very therapeutic, Marathel found.  As the wool felted together, she added more wool, flipping the piece over, stabbing it again and again to make a cloth, intending to give the finished cloths to the Bounty Hunter to polish his armor.   

Din had come down from the cockpit with Grogu; they’d found a few empty cups and a couple of bowls floating around the cockpit.  Din had expected to see Marathel leaning against the main corridor wall, sitting on the foam square, knitting.  Surprised to not see her immediately, he looked around before he noticed her sitting in his quarters. He tilted his helmet as he watched her repeatedly stab bits of wool — with great gusto — into the black foam.  Her vehemence in her task frightened him a little, as she stabbed, stabbed, stabbed whatever it was she had in her hand.  “What are you doing?” 

“I’m felting wool into cloth.” Stab, stab, stab. 

“Why?” 

“For you, to polish your armor.”  Stab, stab, stab. 

“I can buy that sort of thing.” 

“I’m sure you can. But I want to make these for you.”  Her tone told him she would brook no quarter. Stab, stab, stab.  Her eyes flicked up to his helmet.  Stab, stab, stab.   

Din wasn’t about to argue the point with her, not with that stabby tool thing she was wielding.  He did like seeing her in his bed, though.  “Do you have enough light in there?” 

She looked up at the overhead lights.  “It’s good enough for what I’m doing.  The floor is too uncomfortable for me right now,” said Marathel, her cheeks turning pink again.  She looked past Din’s legs and smiled.  “Just who I wanted to see.  Come here, my love.”  Grogu toddled in and hugged Marathel’s legs.  She picked up a folded knitted item and unfurled it, holding it up to his little body.  “Hmmm.  It might be a little big for him.  But he’ll grow into it.”  Marathel frowned and looked back up at Din.  “Will he grow into it?” 

Din shrugged.  “Your guess is as good as mine. I only recently found out he’s over fifty years old.” 

“Fifty?  Why, that would make him older than me, even!” 

“I understand that his people are slow-growing folks that live for a very long time.” 

“But that means …” Marathel’s face fell, and she caressed Grogu’s face. “He will be without you for much of his life.” 

Din crossed his arms and leaned against the door jamb, looking down to the floor.  “I suppose so.”  It had occurred to him as well.  He tried not to think about it much. 

“How old are you?” 

Din raised his eyes back to Marathel’s lovely face. “Well, going back and forth in hyperspace kind of muddies time, as opposed to staying on one planet.  But I’m somewhere around forty-two Basic years old.” 

“That makes me older than you,” said Marathel quietly.  “I am glad to know that you are not so much younger than me.” 

Din shrugged.  “Not by much, no.” And I am glad to know that you aren’t half my age … that would have skeeved me out.  I’m middle-aged.  I don’t need to be with someone so young as that … not like the place you came from. 

“Well, enough of that kind of talk.   Let’s see how this fits you, my little Godynferth!” Marathel fed Grogu’s arms into the sleeves of the little jacket, and she tied the attached belt around his waist.  “It’s a tiny bit long, but it looks good to me.  Show your father, little one.” 

With a pleased coo, Grogu turned to Din, holding out his little arms.  Din squatted down to Grogu’s level.  “Well, now, kid, I think you look like a proper Jedi.  I like it, Marathel, thank you.  He’s never complained about being cold, but a child should have cold weather gear.” 

“What do you do for cold weather gear?” 

“You’re looking at it.” 

Marathel frowned.  “Do you not get cold?” 

“I get cold.” 

This troubled Marathel. The thought I would knit you sweaters and cowls, weave you capes and blankets, anything I could make to keep you warm went unbidden through her head. 

Din cleared his throat, and stood, taking a step back from the doorway.  “I thought I should use the sonic myself.  Would you mind …?” 

Marathel blinked.  “Oh! Of course.  Just knock when I can come out.” She looked around her, realizing that Grogu had wandered off.  She called out, “Come here, Grogu, let me take that jacket off you … then you get to stay in here with Mama.” She had not directly called herself that before.  Not out loud. Oh, she thought to herself.  I never knew how much joy my heart could hold, just saying Mama, referring to myself. Did Din feel the same way, when Grogu became his son in his heart? 

And oh, when Din caught her eye after she had put the question to her mind, and Din knew as sure as anything that Marathel had just realized who she was. 

Grogu’s Mama. 

You’re Grogu’s Mama, Marathel.  And you’re going to leave him, because you’re holding on to some insane guilt over things that were done to you and not by you. I can think of no other reason you would willingly return there. Yet, I can’t not take you back; I must obey you because … you are my Dahl-mate? That is equally insane, my ma’mwsh ha’laa, so insane we should go somewhere uncharted and be crazy together.  

Din stepped back into his quarters and stood, looking down at Marathel.  She looked back at him, puzzled, asking, “What is it?” 

“We need to talk to each other,” said Din. 

“We have talked.” 

“No, we haven’t.” Din sat down at the other end of the bedroll, but still too close in the tiny room, where they’d already experienced so much intimacy when she was injured, unconscious, and naked, and he was gloveless, helmet-less, and out if his mind with concussion.   “You’ve talked.  You’ve talked at me.  You’ve told me the nightmare of your life, the humiliation and degradation you’ve suffered.   But then you tell me that I must return you to the source of your suffering, and that’s all there is to it.”  Din sighed, unsure where to start.  “May I hold your hand?” 

Marathel looked down at Din’s hand, covered by his glove.  She couldn’t think of a good reason not to hold his hand.  It was a reasonable request, and he was a man; therefore, she must obey him. But his hand was encased by fabric and leather.  Along with his forearm weapons, there was not a strip of bare skin exposed.  She supposed that he could make the argument that her hand was encased in metal springs, and therefore, just as non-tactile as his own hand.    

But what difference did the glove make, really?  His hand was still within — a strong and gentle hand, powerful, but still capable of tender touch, loving hands that held Grogu as well as fondled her. 

His hands, the gloves.   

Marathel raised her eyes to Din’s chest, protected by heavy armor.  She knew it was heavy; she’d felt the weight of it against her own body, and he carried both the armor and occasionally her.  But behind the armor was him, she knew there was flesh, flesh that was warm and yielding, carrying scars and marks and moles, flesh over muscle that had seen battles that ended in death and hands of others caressing him, pleasuring him, for he was a man and such pleasures were necessary; even her own hands had felt that flesh in an effort to please him as well as fill her own needs.  

His body, the armor. 

Raising her eyes even more, Marathel studied his helmet, planes and angles that disguised his face; and even though she knew he had brown hair and brown eyes and a mustache and facial hair, she longed to see those features, to solidify in her broken mind who he was, his eyes upon hers, to hopefully read in those brown eyes that he could see her, cracked, crumbled, chipped away to rubble, and so, so sad that she desperately needed a tender touch and the knowledge that even as unworthy as she was, that he trusted her enough, that he loved her enough, to supersede his words of love and trust with the sight of his own lips saying such things, and the touch of his lips on her, words, words meant nothing, she was too stupid to understand words, words almost always led to lies … 

“Marathel?”  Marathel blinked, shaking herself out of her thoughts.  “I only asked you to hold my hand; it wasn’t some sort of trick question,” he implored. 

Marathel dropped her eyes and went back to felting the wool, stabbing the fleece into the foam over and over.  “What did you need to say?” 

“I want you to explain to Grogu why you’re doing this.” 

“Doing what?  Felting wool?” 

Din took a deep breath; he wanted to keep his temper.  “Why you’re insisting I take you back.”  Marathel stopped her stabbing motion.  “Because you haven’t explained it to me at all, and I want to hear you explain it to him, so maybe I can possibly understand.”   

Marathel set aside her project and primly folded her hands in her lap. “I’d be happy to speak to Grogu.  Shall I do it now?” 

Din was surprised, as he thought she would either belay an explanation or refuse to do it altogether.  He looked over his shoulder and saw Grogu, still in his little knitted robe, sitting in the doorway, eating a hunk of bread.  “Hey kid, Marathel would like to speak to you.” 

Grogu got up and toddled over to Marathel, holding out his bread crust to her.  Marathel smiled and took the proffered crust, bobbed her head, and murmured, “Thank you, my love,” and ate the bit of bread, while Din was both surprised and overwhelmed that Grogu shared food with her, as if sharing food was a commonplace thing for him, because it certainly wasn’t. “Come up here, little one,” she said, lifting him onto her legs so Grogu could sit on her.  “You may not know this, but your father is taking me back to the planet I came from.  Remember?  You met me there, in my little hut, where we played poosticks, and picked flowers, and you and Patu went fishing?” 

Grogu made an affirmative coo, and Marathel continued.  “Well, we’re going back there, but what will happen is that I will stay there, and you and Patu will go on flying on your adventure, and I will not be with you.” 

Grogu frowned, his ears drooping. 

“Remember, when I said goodbye to you before?  I thought you would be leaving me behind then.  But I was so badly hurt, and your father did not want to leave me behind like that.  I didn’t know your father took me away with you.  And I am sorry that you had to see me so hurt, and that you had to help me breathe when I was so sick.  I know you also helped my hands, and I thank you so much for that. You gave me back my hands, you clever boy! 

“Unfortunately, I am still sick.  I am very, very sick.  But I’m not sick in my lungs, or in my hands.  I’m sick here …” — Marathel indicated her head — “… and here …” — Marathel put her hand over her heart.  “The sickness, the pain I have there is not an illness that can be healed by the tiny hands of a little green boy with large ears.  It’s a sickness that I can’t ever recover from.  It’s a hurt that can’t be fixed.  And when there’s something that can’t be fixed, well, then, it must be left behind.  

“I’m sure you’ve seen Patu leave things that can’t be fixed.  Parts of this ship, a blaster, something.  But this time, it’s me that must be left behind.”  Grogu’s face fell, and he looked down to his little feet until Marathel put her finger under his chin and lifted his face up again. “Grogu, you need to know that I’m okay with that.  That is what I want.  I want to be left behind, so my sickness won’t affect you or your Patu.   

“I know this is hard to understand.  I know I can’t properly explain why this is so necessary to me.  But I need you to remember that this was my decision.  And if for no other reason than that, I need for that decision to be honored by you, honored by your Patu.  I’ve had so little honor given to me, Grogu, and whether my decision is good, or bad, or indifferent, it was my decision to make.  

“But I don’t want you to worry about me.  I will be all right when you and Patu leave.  I will be sad, of course.  I will be very sad.  And you will be sad, too, I know.  You may be very sad.  And it’s okay for you to be sad.  But you have much to do.  You must grow up, and live a wonderful life, and have many exciting adventures with your father.  And I want you to enjoy the amazing life you’re going to have, flying here and there, meeting all kinds of people … probably making things blow up …” Marathel laughed.  “Wherever you are, I will be thinking of you.  When you look up at the night sky, and you see all those stars, and planets, that will be me keeping an eye on you!  I’ve been so proud to be your Mama!  And perhaps, someday, you may have a new Mama to go along with your Patu, or … even maybe another Patu, who knows?”  Marathel looked up at Din, thinking of Cobb.  She knew.  She just did.  “Someone will make your father so happy, and that’s what we all want, is for Patu and Grogu to be happy.  Happy, and safe. 

“And … I will be happy too, to know that you are happy, and safe.  No matter how sick I am, no matter how much I hurt in my heart and in my mind, I will always be happy that I met you and your father.  I will always be happy to think of the three of us having fun in that little hut, having little, tiny adventures amongst ourselves.  Even if you believe you had far too many baths. 

“I will miss you so much.  You will be in my heart forever.  Rwy’n di’rugar, my love,” said Marathel, her voice crackling, and she picked up Grogu and hugged him tightly, kissing his little face. 

Drawing back, Marathel smiled at Grogu with tears in her eyes.  “I think that went well, don’t you?  Yes, I think that went well.  I hope you understand a little better why this is happening, love, yes?  Yes.” 

Grogu patted her cheek, cooing sadly.  Then he pointed back at Din.  Marathel gazed into his dark visor and sighed.  “Yes, I will miss Patu as well. He has been a good friend to me.  My first friend, actually.  Your father will also be in my heart forever. I know he’s having a very hard time leaving me behind.    Someday, he may understand why he must leave me behind, but even if he doesn’t, I hope he knows that I will never regret a single moment I spent with him.  Even when I threw eggs at him.  Or called him names.” 

“What about not telling me about the depth of the mud I had to slog through?” asked Din. 

“Oh, that … I wanted to get back at you for laughing at me.” 

Din chuckled briefly, and then reached over to gently ruffle Grogu’s hair, moving his hands closer to her. “Marathel, I don’t think you’re sick.  I don’t think you’re so damaged that you can’t be fixed, or that you can’t be helped.  Doctors and therapists are out there.  I can find you someone if you would just let me.” 

Marathel felt trapped by the armored man before her, and she wondered if that was his intention.  She returned her attention to Grogu.  “Grogu, do you understand what I am asking of you?  Will you please honor my decision?” 

“You can’t ask him that.  He’s just a child.” 

“Grogu is wiser than I will ever be.” 

“All the more reason to not take you back, Marathel! I can’t, in good conscience, leave a woman having a nervous breakdown alone in the wilderness!” 

“I’m not having a breakdown!” cried Marathel. 

“Then you should!” shouted Din. He dropped his head.  “I’m sorry, mesh’la, I’m sorry, ad’ika, I shouldn’t have yelled.  I am upset, because … because I don’t have much time left to convince you to not leave me.”  He reached for Grogu.  “Kid, would you please give Mama and me some privacy?  We need to … grown-up talk.” Grogu bleated and jumped off Marathel’s lap and toddled out of the tiny room, patting Din’s arm as he went, which both adults noticed with mild amusement, wondering just how much Grogu was able to understand the angst the grown-ups were creating for themselves. 

Din and Marathel looked at each other. He took a breath, then reached to shut the door. 

“Din …” 

He moved his hand along the wall, and turned off the lights, and then a third switch shut off even the tiny red and green panel lights, leaving the tiny room in full darkness. Marathel gasped, and Din said, “Mesh’la, I need you to trust me … I must do this this way.” Focusing on the low-light image in his visor, he moved closer to her, reaching for her hands in the darkness, and she pushed herself against the wall behind her. “Please, Marathel, I …” She kept pulling her hands loose, whimpering, fearful.  Din pulled off his gloves, and then, his helmet, saying, “Marathel.” 

Marathel fell still at the sound of his voice, unmodulated, and she forgot to breathe.  Din reached for her hand again, their fingertips touching before she drew her hand back. “Marathel, ma’mwsh ha’laa, I don’t know what to do about you.  I don’t understand why you won’t let me love you.  I don’t understand why you insist on destroying yourself.” He sighed.  “I don’t know how else to say that I don’t care who your biological parents are.  I don’t know how else to tell you that those reprehensible things done to you don’t make you a whore. Those things only matter to me because of the pain they cause you.”   

Din got up to his knees and moved even closer to Marathel, gently pushing down on her knees so that he could straddle her legs, resting part on his weight on her, pinning her in place again like he had against the kitchen wall of the palace, and he hated that he kept trapping her this way.  He lifted her hands to his face, saying, “I can’t show you my face.  This is the way.  This is the only … allowable way for me to be without my helmet around you.  And even then, this is still … difficult.  Attachments outside the covert, attachments of any kind are not discouraged, but … neither are they encouraged.” He still held her trembling hands.  “I’ve told you I love you, both in Basic and in my own language, remember?  I said to you, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, when we were together that night.  ‘I will know you forever,’ that’s what that really means, mesh’la, I will have you in my heart forever just as you will have Grogu in your heart forever.  Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner kar’ta, cyar’e.  I love you, my heart, my beloved …” Din kissed her splinted fingers.  “And you said something back.  What did you say back to me?” 

“Fi ng’riad, d’lwch fi, chi yd’w fi,” said Marathel, her voice unsteady. 

“What does that mean?” 

“‘Love me, hold me, I am yours.’” 

“But it doesn’t really mean that, does it, mesh’la?  I can’t possibly believe that there’s a word for love in the Hold. Not with what they do there to women, to children.  I’m sure you say that at a very specific time; you have ceremonial words for every moment you women must endure, there’s a verse in that only song for every occasion, so when do you say that, Marathel, what does it really mean?” 

“It means … ‘I am yours to take and ruin.’” 

Din’s heart broke a little more.  “And when are you supposed to say that?” 

“When the girl presents herself to her Elder as a Whyn just before he takes her … fully.” 

“And you said this … to me?” 

Marathel sobbed and pulled her hands away.  “I had no other words to give you.  I knew you had said something very important to me, and I had to say something!” 

“But what do you feel, Marathel?” 

“I don’t know!” 

Din sat back on his heels, sighing, sure she was lying.  He rubbed his face with his hands.  “Back on Unmanarall, when you asked me to remove my helmet … if I had, would you have changed your mind about going to the Hold?” 

“No.” 

“If …” Din’s voice broke, and he had to clear his throat.  “If I revealed my face to you now, knowing that I love you, Marathel, my ma’mwsh ha’laa … would you stay with me?  Would it make a difference?” 

“… No.” 

At that moment, Din would rather have been sliced in two by the Darksaber.  Desperate now, he pleaded, “What if … then … not with me, then … Stay at the palace, on Nevarro, somewhere, anywhere, where I know I can reach you, see you, know you’re safe …” He found her face in the darkness and pressed his forehead to hers.  “Somewhere Grogu can see you, please, ner kar’ta, my heart, please, please, don’t make that boy lose his Mama!” 

“Din, please …” sobbed Marathel. 

“Stay, yes, or no?” 

“... No.” 

Din wanted to weep.  He reached behind him to find his gloves and his helmet.   Standing, he put his helmet back on, and opened the door to the tiny room, revealing Grogu on the other side, looking sadly back up at him.  “Gangway, Grogu,” he said, listlessly, and he climbed up the ladder into the cockpit, shutting the door behind him. 

Marathel sobbed into her hands, hating herself for what she was doing.  She felt Grogu’s tiny hand touch her knee.  “Oh, Grogu, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry for hurting Patu like that.” She held Grogu as she shifted them both to a prone position on their sides, facing each other.  Marathel began stroking Grogu’s ear with her thumb. “Someday, he may forgive me, but if he never does, I will accept that.  I’d rather he hate me forever.”  

Grogu’s sad eyes bore into hers.  “Patu Mama,” he said sternly. 

“Patu … Mama?” asked Marathel, confused. 

Grogu put his hands together, wrapping his tiny fingers around each other.  “Patu … Mama.”  Marathel blinked tears from her eyes, then nodded. Repeating the hand motions, Grogu asked, “Mama … Patu?” 

Marathel’s eyes went wide, then shut tight for a few moments.  Opening her eyes, she whispered, “Yes, my little child.  Mama Patu.”  Marathel smiled through her tears.  “Mama loves Patu with all her heart.”   

She couldn’t speak after that for a few moments. Finally, she was able to say, “Grogu, my sweet, it’s because I love your father so that I must be left behind.  I’m damaged, and I’m no good.  He deserves someone so much better than me.   What I am, no matter where I go, will bring him only shame and misery.  I’m the wrong woman, and what I’ve done will be found out; I know now how people will talk behind my back.  I heard the whispering in the palace.  Patu is well-respected everywhere he goes, he must be.  I can’t be the reason he loses respect in his covert, his … well, wherever a Bounty Hunter may belong. And I don’t belong anywhere, anyplace that’s good. 

“People don’t understand a person like me, they will judge me for what I’ve done, what was done to me, who I am. And they will judge your father for caring about me. And I refuse to bring that judgement upon Patu.” 

Grogu grunted, shook his fists and said, “Patu Mama! Mama Patu!” 

“Oh, Grogu, if only it could be so, I wish it could.  But this is the way.” 

Grogu frowned and put his hand on Marathel’s chin, and she immediately felt a little sleepy.  “Grogu is putting me to sleep again, I think.  Did you want me to tell you a bedtime story, little one?”  Marathel yawned.  “I will tell you my version of how I met your father. 

“When I first saw him, the sunlight was reflecting off his armor almost straight into my eyes, and I thought he was one of the Mothers Who Went Before coming for me, coming to take me away and up into the night sky.  And then I thought, no, I don’t want to go! So, I had to throw a rock to chase Patu away.  

“I had wanted the Mothers Who Went Before to come take me away.  I wished for it, prayed to Frith for it.  But when I thought they had appeared, I begged to stay!  And when I realized it was a person, a man I had never seen before, I was afraid, but somehow, I knew that he would not hurt me, that I was safe with him. I knew a stranger to me would be the first man to treat me well.” Marathel smiled at Grogu, stroking his cheek with her thumb.  “And Patu brought me you.  How could I not love him?”  She felt sad yet happy that she revealed the truth to Grogu.  But as she fell asleep — and whether it was Grogu putting her to sleep or the emotional exhaustion hitting her was immaterial — Marathel mumbled, “But there’s no point.” 

Grogu got up from where he lay next to Marathel.  He gently pressed his forehead to hers, like Patu would do.  Just like Patu would do to him.  Then Grogu sighed, and toddled out to the corridor, where he sat down with a tiny grunt, looking back and forth from the open quarters to the closed cockpit door. 

Grogu was frustrated.  Grogu had a hard time understanding why Patu and Mama could not just love Mama and Patu!  Grogu wished Patu would kiss Mama again.  Grogu had seen other people kiss before.  Grogu knew kissing made other people happy.  Grogu had been happy when Patu had been happy with Ohmeh. Grogu had been sad that Patu did not kiss Ohmeh.  Grogu was happy Patu kissed Mama. Grogu changed Mahr to Mama because Patu kissed Mama. Grogu was happy Patu became happy again.   

Grogu was sad that Mama was sad.  Grogu could see that Mama was hurt in a lot of places.  Grogu wondered why someone hurt Mama.  Grogu was mad that someone hurt Mama. Grogu wanted to help Mama.  Grogu had helped Patu and friends of Patu.   

Grogu did not understand why Mama did not want help from Grogu. Grogu did not understand why Mama was so dark inside head of Mama.  Grogu was sad Mama was so dark inside head of Mama.  

Grogu could not fix Mama. 

Grogu could not fix inside head of Mama. 

Grogu was sad. 

Grogu looked down at the floor and sighed.  He thought for a while, and while he sat and thought, he began picking up his favorite colors of the glitter on the floor — gold, silver, and green — and made them float and swirl before his eyes.  After a while, Grogu put the glitter down, and he called out to the Force, looking for friends that might make Mama less sad.  And if Mama was less sad, then maybe Patu would be less sad, too. 

It was a few hours later that Marathel heard Din calling her.  Climbing up out of her troubled sleep, she said, “Mmmmm … what?” 

“Marathel?  Wake up.” 

Not wanting another round of Din’s pressure, Marathel muttered, “Why?” 

“You need to see this.” Marathel frowned at Din but let him help her up.  She followed him stiffly up the ladder to the cockpit, where he beckoned her to stand at the console, where Grogu was sitting, looking up and out of the view screen.  Din pointed above his head.  “Look.” 

Marathel stood where Din indicated, and looked up to see not just one Purrgil, but many.  She gasped and put her hand to her mouth. 

“I don’t know how many there are,” said Din.  “I got up to twelve, and more kept coming.  I can’t see them all to count them.  They are all around the Crest.”  A single Purrgil, much smaller than the one Marathel had seen while on the transport, moved closer, almost as if she was trying to peer into the cockpit.  “A few have done that, too.  I’ve never heard of a Purrgil doing that before.” The Purrgil bellowed, the vibration rumbling the floor of the cockpit, and they could see the closest of the Purrgils nodding their heads.  Din turned to look at Marathel’s enraptured face.  “It looks like they were waiting for you,” he whispered, carefully reaching for her hand.   

Marathel jumped, looked down at her hand, her pinky finger wrapped with his.  She quickly shifted her eyes back up on the Purrgils above her … but she reached with her other fingers to capture the rest of his hand. Din lifted his other hand to Grogu’s back, and they stood that way for a long time.  Eventually, Din wrapped his arm around Grogu, lifting the child up against him. Din stepped back and took a seat on his captain’s chair, still holding Marathel’s hand as she dropped her eyes from the Purrgils and turned to look at him.  He gently tugged on her hand, and she allowed him to seat her on his lap. Din reached to recline the seat back, but it fell too quickly and Marathel nearly somersaulted off the back of the chair, and she laughed while Din cursed his rotten luck. Of all times to be a klutz, he thought.  I couldn’t be suave if my life depended on it! 

“This is ridiculous,” said Marathel.  “I’m too heavy; I’ll squish you.” 

“No, you won’t.” Even if she cut off his circulation and his legs fell off, he wouldn’t care.  Din put his feet up on the console, her legs already entwined with his. 

“Then I’ll break your chair.” 

“Unlikely.”  Even if their combined weight broke this chair, he had two more in this very cockpit.  Chairs were replaceable.  Din guided Marathel to lay back against him and tucked her head under the edge of his helmet. 

“This many Purrgil could destroy your ship.” 

“Then I will die with my clan in my arms,” said Din. 

Marathel’s heart ached.   She tried to blink back her tears, but failed.  Then she realized she could feel his body under hers.  “Did you remove your armor?” 

“Yes.” 

Marathel couldn’t help but smirk.  “You felt safe enough to remove your armor around me?” 

“It was a calculated risk.” 

“And you assumed you could get me on your lap.” 

Din stroked her arm.  “And I love you best, Marathel, when you open your sweet mouth and say things like that.”  

He was right of course, for Marathel felt the same way about him.  She didn’t speak again, but remained there in his chair, on his lap, along with Grogu, watching the Purrgil fly all around them.  The Purrgil continued to accompany the small ship through hyperspace, watching over the clan of three. 

Future Days: Coming Soon

#the mandalorian angst #din djarin angst #mando angst #star wars fanfiction #starwarsficnetwork #pedro pascal fandom #pedrostories #pedro pascal stories #din x plus size fem oc #din x fem oc #din x afab oc

[imaginedisish]

Two Weeks (Din Djarin x Reader)

Chapter 1 (Chapter 2 coming soon)

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is my first chaptered Din Djarin x Reader fic. I’ve got big plans and I hope y'all like it. Requests are still open. Bruce Wayne x Reader coming next!!! Thanks y'all!!! Enjoy :) (also this is gonna be based on Two Weeks by Grizzly Bear but each chapter will have it’s own name after this)

Summary: After running away from Luke’s training, Din is tasked with bringing you back to him. What neither of you anticipated was the connection that would come with being stuck together for two weeks.

Warnings: Eventual smut!!! So imma put an 18+ warning just to be safe. I don’t think this is going to be too slow of a slow burn (like I’m talking smut by the next chapter or chapter 3 so...), canon violence, implication that Din got another Razor Crest bc im lazy, creepy/sexual harassment-y Twi’leck, and my favorite: the one bed trope muahaha.

Word Count: 3,605

The holobooks glow a cerulean blue, illuminating the dimly lit shelves that stretched on for what seemed like miles. The library was unsettlingly quiet, too quiet. The silence gave you more than enough time to drown yourself in your own thoughts. 

You can’t help but go over that last conversation you and Luke had shared just two months ago. It plays over and over again in your head, tempting your brain to split open with guilt. 

“I’m not picking a side,” You shouted, storming towards the X-Wing you intended to take from Luke.

“But by leaving you are,” He insisted. “You’re giving into your fear, your hatred, your emotions.” His voice was stern, yet calm. It annoyed you. How could he possibly be so collected at a time like this?

“No!” Your shout was now a scream. “Leaving isn’t the same thing as picking a side.” You could feel your throat closing, growing hoarser with each syllable. “I’m done being an apprentice. I’m done serving someone else!”

And with that, you left.

You knew you had made the right decision, but you still felt undeniably guilty. You didn’t want to hurt Luke, but you needed to save yourself. You wanted to go down your own path, to make your own choices. 

After all, you had spent the first fifteen years of your life with the Empire. You’ve never known the full story, but you were apparently kidnapped by the Empire before you could crawl. They knew you were force sensitive, and so you always assumed you had come from some powerful Jedi Knight. Once kidnapped, you trained under Vader as an apprentice. While it was in small doses, you had brought out the light in him. Then, the Rebels found you during the Battle of Yavin, and took you in.

So, when Luke began training you, he was shocked to see that you already knew an abundance of Jedi skills. He realized that whatever was leftover of Anakin Skywalker had trained you. However, your Sith training was still certainly prevalent. But because of this, you felt as though you could use both sides of the force comfortably. You tried to explain to Luke that you found balance in using both the light and the dark, but he refused to understand.

Luke often treated you like you were something that needed to be cleansed, like something that wasn’t enough. He immediately forced himself into the traditions of the Jedi. You, on the other hand, knew that would be a mistake. 

You decided to steal the X-Wing and fly to Nevarro. You sold the ship and found a job as an archivist at a brand new library on the planet. Things had been going well, but today you simply couldn’t stop thinking about your past, about Luke. You could feel something coming, something that was connected to-

Suddenly a shiny figure covered in Beskar approached your desk. You swallow harshly, immediately sensing that he isn’t just here for the books. 

He’s here for you. 

“C-Can I help you?” You stutter. Your eyes flash under the desk, checking quickly to ensure your sabers are still there. Although, they aren’t quite yours. One was your father’s — whoever that was — and the other was Vader’s. Luke had given you your father’s, while you found Vader’s in the destruction of the Second Death Star. You never told Luke about it. 

“I’m looking for a Jedi,” The Mandalorian’s modulated voice snaps you back to reality. You know he means you, even though you don’t consider yourself a Jedi. You reach your hands out and attempt to discreetly force pull the sabers to you. 

You fail completely, as one knocks over a paper weight and a canteen of water before flying into your hands. 

“Guess that’s you,” He states matter-of-factly. 

You leap over the desk and sprint into the stacks, igniting your sabers in the process. The blue and red beams reflect against the gray marble floors, your boots pounding with each step you take. 

You look behind you, noticing that the Mandalorian is gaining on you. His armor clatters as he closes the space between the two of you. 

You concentrate your energy, bending down into the floor, and leaping up, bouncing from shelf to shelf until you reach the top of a bookcase. You look behind you again, and the Mandalorian is now climbing the shelves. You pause for a moment, knowing that he isn’t going to make it up as quickly as you did. 

“Who sent you?” You question as he continues up the case. 

His gloved hands finally reach the top. “A mutual friend,” He says, his voice a bit strained through his helmet as he pushes himself up. 

You point the red saber towards him as he stands just a few feet away from you. “Are you with the Empire?” You ask, swallowing the fear in the back of your throat. “Because if so, you can fuck off. I’ll kill you before you can take me back to wherever you’re stationed now. I’m not going back,” You can feel tears stinging in the corners of your eyes. “I-I’m not going back,” You say again, stuttering. 

The Mandalorian takes a single step towards you, slipping his blaster back into its holster. He puts his hands in the air, “Maker, no, I’m not with the Empire,” He takes another step towards you, and you slowly lower your saber. “It’s okay,” He breathes. Despite the helmet, you know he’s looking into your eyes. He can feel your pain. “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

You close both sabers, still clasping the hilts tightly in your hands. “So, then who sent you?” You press, apprehensively closing the space between you and the Mandalorian. You feel as though you can trust him. You can tell he isn’t here to hurt you. If he was going to, he certainly would have already.

“Luke Skywalker,” He finally admits. “He asked me to bring you to him.” 

You scoff, shaking your head as you turn away from the Mandalorian. “No kriffing way am I going back,” Your voice is callous and coarse. You sit on the edge of the bookshelf, your heels tapping against the shelf below.  “He couldn’t even come get me himself,” You whisper, looking off into the distance. 

The Mandalorian stands next to you, and that’s when you sense something else. 

You look up at him, his armor glimmering in the blue light, and see a little green figure peeking through the brown sack around his waist. You smile softly, instantly feeling the force coursing through the little creature. 

“Who’s this?” You ask, reaching out towards him. The little guy reaches towards you too. Before the Mandalorian can stop him, the child falls into your arms. “The force is strong with him,” You say as you scoop him up. 

“His name is Grogu,” The Mandalorian remarks, snatching the child back. He reaches a hand out to you, “But now isn’t the time for introductions. I have to get you back to Luke.” 

You breathe deeply through your nose, sighing audibly as you exhale. You take the Mandalorian’s hand and stand up. “I’ll go with you on one condition.”

“I don’t negotiate with bounties,” He states nonchalantly. 

You roll your eyes. “The condition is that you bring me back here once I’m done talking to Luke. I don’t intend to stay with him for more than ten minutes.”

He’s quiet for a few seconds, pondering your proposition. Finally, he nods. “Fine,” The Mandalorian huffs. “But then my condition is that I’ll do some bounties on the way, and you’ll stay on the ship with the child.” 

You arch your brow and shake your sabers. “You want me to stay on the ship? The wanted, force sensitive, Sith Lord-Jedi?”

The Mandalorian chuckles softly. For some reason you can’t quite place, your heartbeat speeds up at the sound of it. “Maybe I’ll think about it,” He says, walking away from you and jumping down from the bookcase. You follow closely behind him. 

“What’s your name?” You ask as you head towards the doors of the library. 

He doesn’t answer right away, as if he’s unsure of how to respond. “You can call me Mando,” He says finally. You nod. 

Mando. 

You grab your cloak from one of the hooks in the foyer of the lobby, and swiftly put it on. You lift the hood over your head, ensuring that you stay at least somewhat hidden, and exit the library.

—————————————————————————

After a mile or two of walking, you and Mando come across a cantina. He stops in front of it, carefully grasping his blaster. His visor looks down at you, and you meet his gaze. He’s heeding a wordless warning. 

But you didn’t need any warnings. You could handle yourself. 

You nod once and Mando presses a button that opens the door. You walk into the dark bar, music blasting from the speakers. 

“So, what are we doing here?” You ask, your eyes searching the cantina. 

Mando nods over to a corner booth. “You see that Twi’lek sitting next to that guy?” Mando asks, and you nod. “He’s coming back with us, whether he likes it or not.” 

“How do I help?” You question, moving your cloak to the side to grab your sabers. Mando reaches down to your hand in response, his gloved fingers wrapping around your wrist. 

“Not like that,” He says, his grasp still firm on you. You can’t help but notice the contact, the closeness. “Go sit in that booth over there,” His voice is barely audible as he points to the booth a few seats away from the Twi’lek. “And take the kid,” He says, pulling the bag off of him and handing it to you. You wanted to roll your eyes at the lack of importance in your job, but the cuteness of the kid quickly makes you happy to be of service. 

You head over to the table and sit down. Grogu wiggles out of the bag and into your lap. A feeling of safety washes over you as he makes himself comfortable, and there’s no doubt in your mind that Grogu is attempting to communicate to you that his father isn’t as bad as he appears to be. 

And you’re quick to believe him.

It’s clear that the child loves Mando, as Grogu fills your mind with images of the Mandalorian going above and beyond to save him, putting him above all else, sacrificing his own happiness just so Grogu can live a good life. It makes your heart warm. It gives you a certain feeling, a feeling you haven’t felt…

Ever.

“I get it little guy,” You whisper to him, rubbing his head with the fist of your hand. He coos and giggles as you squeeze him closer to you. 

But those feelings of safety and comfort and warmth turn into nothingness the second you feel a hand grip your shoulder tightly. 

You whip your head around to see another Twi’lek. “Can I help you?” You snarl condescendingly. 

The Twi’lek chuckles. “That’s no way for a woman to talk to a man who’s interested in her,” He answers. You roll your eyes. 

“Interested in what about me, exactly?” You question, placing the kid in the space next to you. “In getting your ass kicked?” Your voice is firm and growing louder with each word that leaves your lips. 

He brings his hand up to your chin, lifting it up so that you’re forced to meet his gaze. You grab his hand in response, trying to pry it off of you, but it’s no use. “You need to learn how to behave yourself,” He growls. You contemplate force pushing him off of you, or reaching for your saber and chopping him in half right here, but you know that would ruin Mando’s bounty, and it would blow your cover. 

“Let me go,” You demand, your eyes searching the room for some sort of escape. There was nothing you could do without giving up your spot. You look over to the other booth, attempting to catch Mando’s attention. You can hear the child screeching behind you. Your heart pounds in your ears. “Please just let me go,” You’re begging now. You don’t know what else to do. 

The Twi’lek scoffs. “Not happening. Not until you learn how to-,”

Two blaster shots ring out, and the Twi’lek immediately jumps back in fear. 

“You kriffing touch her again and you’ll end up like your friend here,” Mando says, holding up the lifeless body of the bounty. “I should kill you for just talking to her,” His voice is commanding as he closes the gap between himself and the Twi’lek. 

You grab the child and pull him into your chest. You can feel his fear, and you’re sure he can feel your own too. “It’s okay,” You whisper. “I’ve got you now.” Mando watches how you’re caring for Grogu out of the corner of his eye. Something stirs within him, something he can’t quite place. 

He storms over to you, bounty in tow, and grabs your arm. His gloved fingers once again find their way to your wrist, and he guides you out of the cantina. 

Just behind the cantina is a ship. You figured Mando had planned that whole thing out. Dragging a bounty for miles on end doesn’t exactly sound like fun. Regardless, you wanted to forget what had just happened. You had been through enough for one day, never mind an entire lifetime. 

“What kind of ship is this?” You ask, trying to make conversation. Mando’s grip on your wrist tightens, and he stops in his tracks. 

“You just almost got killed, or…” He trails off, looking down at the ground. “Or worse, and you want to know what kind of ship this is?” His voice is no longer strong or confident, it’s shaky and unsure. You’re shocked at how much he cares for your wellbeing. Even inside the cantina, something had come over him. No one, including Luke, has ever shown so much care for you before.

That’s when you feel the tears pricking at your eyes. That’s when you finally register the weight of what tonight’s events could have meant. 

“I-I’m sorry,” You stumble around your words, staring down into the orangey-tan sand coating your gray boots. 

Mando shakes his head, his arm moving up to rest on your shoulder. He rubs softly and breathes deeply. “No, don’t apologize. I’m being too hard on you,” He whispers. “Are you alright?”

You nod once. “I think so,” You reply, settling into his touch. It’s relaxing, warm, and you’re enjoying it far more than you should. You don’t know what it is, but there’s something endearing about him, something that lures you in and keeps you hanging. You want to hold onto the feeling, to keep it in your pocket and wear it around your neck whenever you can. 

He keeps his hand around your wrist while the other pulls the bounty along as you walk up the ramp together. He drops your wrist and yanks the bounty over to the carbon freezer. He makes quick work of the Twi’leck as you look around the ship. In the corner, underneath the cockpit, is a single bunk. Your exhaustion makes the makeshift mattress look extra comfortable. You could fall asleep standing up, to be honest. 

Mando finishes with the now dead bounty and stands by your side. You hand him the bag with the kid in it. He peers inside and catches a glimpse of a sleeping Grogu. You hear him chuckle through his modulator and you can feel that feeling again, that feeling that makes your heart want to burst. 

You smile softly. “So how long am I going to be a burden on you,” You joke, your smile widening. 

“Two weeks,” He says plainly. 

For some reason, two weeks didn’t seem long enough. 

Mando’s visor meets your gaze again. You can’t help but yawn, your exhaustion thoroughly catching up with you. 

“You should get some rest, we’ll be on Tatooine tomorrow,” He says, his voice equally thick with tiredness. “My bunk is down there, you can take it.” 

You furrow your brows. “What about you?” You ask. You really were going to be a burden on him. 

“I’ll take the cockpit,” He says back, pointing over to the uncomfortable looking chairs at the front of the ship. 

You shake your head. “We can share, it’s fine,” You insist. But Mando doesn’t listen. He walks towards the cockpit. 

“Maybe,” He finally responds, “But for now I’ll stay up here. I have to put in the coordinates and get us on course anyway.” 

You nod. “Goodnight,” You whisper, your voice coated with fatigue. 

“‘Night,” Mando whispers back as he takes his seat. You do as he says and waddle down into his bunk. 

Normally, something like this wouldn’t seem comfortable to you, being that the mattress was probably no more than two inches thick and the blanket was incredibly thin, but you were far too tired to care. It felt like heaven just to lay down, so much so that you drift off to sleep before Mando can even take off. 

—————————————————————————

There’s lightning, and a hooded figure. You can see Mando and the child on the other side of whatever platform you’re on, maybe on a rock somewhere off in the distance. Your sabers glow in your hands. You try to run towards the figure, but you’re stuck. You can’t move. 

The figure reaches out their hand, and force lightning pours out from their fingertips. You drop your blue saber and extend your hand out, electricity shooting from your fingers with twice as much force. Your eyes glow a threatening, dark yellow.

You scream out as the hooded figure fights back, increasing his force, stepping closer towards you. 

“The Mandalorian and the Child are mine now,” He says, his voice cold and cruel. 

“No!” You shout. “N-“

“No!” Your eyes open wide as you push yourself up on your forearms. You practically smack your head on the roof of the bunk. You’re shivering. You can’t tell if it’s just the temperature of the ship, or if it’s a product of the nightmare you just had. 

But that wasn’t just any nightmare, it was a vision. You had never seen that place, that planet before. And the pain you felt, it stemmed from a place, a feeling you just haven’t felt yet. 

Love, true love.

You can hear the clunking of metal above you, and seconds later, Mando appears at the entrance to the bunk. 

“Are you alright?” He’s panicked and practically shouting. 

“Y-yeah,” You mumble. “Sorry if I woke you, it was just a nightmare.” That wasn’t the complete truth, but you figure he isn’t exactly ready for the truth just yet. 

After all, you did just meet. 

“Are you sure?” He presses. He isn’t buying it, and he’s completely right not to. 

You sniffle and stir a bit under the covers. “I think so,” You lie again. You weren’t sure at all, and you certainly weren’t ‘alright’ in any capacity. 

Mando sighs heavily through his modulator. “Do you want to talk about it, cyar’ika?” 

You were shocked at how kind he was being. He could be so tough, so cold to his bounties. “What’s that mean, cyar’ika?” You question, trying your best to change the direction of the conversation. 

“That’s not what’s important right now,” Mando says, dismissing your question entirely. 

You smirk, attempting to convince him that you’re okay. “I’m fine, I mean it.” 

Mando nods once and begins to slip out of the bunk. But as he leaves, you begin to regret telling him you were fine. His proximity to you had made the pain go away, just for a moment. Now you were back to being anxious and cold. Genuinely, you were freezing. You must be in deep space by now. You were more than positive that you wouldn’t be able to go to sleep like this. 

You groan, embarrassed to call him back just as you had kicked him out. “Mando,” You call out. He’s back within seconds. “Can you…” You trail off, trying to find the right words. “Would you…” It’s impossible. 

“I’ll stay with you.” 

It’s like he can read your mind. 

He strips off his armor, save his helmet, and slips in next to you. He brushes up against you for just a second, and practically pulls away instantly. 

“Maker, you’re freezing,” He says. Suddenly, you feel his arm slowly wrap around your waist, hesitantly pulling you tightly against his chest. “Is this alright?” He asks. You’re too stunned to speak, so you simply hum a yes. 

After a few minutes of lying like that, with your back up against his chest, you begin to feel better. Still, you can’t help but feel guilty, like you’re a burden to him, like this is something he has to do. You’re supposed to be powerful. You were a Jedi, a Sith, and yet a Mandalorian is being forced to take care of you. 

“You don’t have to stay, you know. You can go back to the cockpit if you-,”

But he cuts you off. “I told you I would stay.” And so, he did.

Two weeks, You think to yourself. Two weeks.

And then you drifted off to sleep, without nightmares, without visions.

Just like yesterday

I told you I would stay

Would you always?

Maybe sometimes?

Make it easy?

Take your time

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[moralesispunk]

The Fire Between Us

Chapter Five - Burn

[Masterlist] [Chapter Four] Din Djarin x Female Mandalorian Reader Summary: When you return to the Covert the reality of your actions finally hits home Word Count: 6.7k Warnings: angst (as usual), feelings, kissing, allusions to smut (or heading towards smut) Read on Ao3 here!

It was an entrance you had walked through thousands of times before - one that was hard to find unless you knew exactly what you were looking for; perfectly hidden against the desert landscape to keep the warriors it housed safe from the rest of the galaxy.

Now, as your feet dragged through the sand and slowed your pace so much that even Din - in his injured state - had to pull you along, you followed the same path you had walked more times than you could count. It was the same path you followed when you were coming back from a trip to the market or a week long bounty hunt; your legs taking you across the bare land towards the dip in the ground that led straight down to the dark tunnels of the Covert.

It was a familiar feeling of coming home every time you stepped over the threshold into the Covert, one that you usually welcomed with open arms, yet it was a feeling that was missing now as you inched closer and closer to the entrance.

In this moment you wanted nothing more than to run in the other direction, as far as you could from the Covert until your legs were aching and you had no memory of home or Din… or the unsaid vow you have now shared: by the end of tomorrow, no matter how much he hated the idea of it and no matter how guilty you felt, Din would most likely be your riddur and there was nothing either of you could do about it.

Thoughts of running away or finding a way to free Din from this obligation were swarming your mind until the very last second when the entrance came into view. There was someone resting by the entrance, a small body that you had to squint against the setting sun to see, and as you got closer the person became a small child - newly fitted to their armor - who perked up the second your three bodies appeared over the horizon.

They quickly pushed themselves up to stand, taking a moment to confirm that they weren’t imagining you, Din and Adrean coming home, before they ran back inside and their yells somehow made their way through the wind as they alerted the Covert to your arrival. 

There was no way you could turn and walk away now the whole Covert would be expecting your arrival, no matter how heavy the weight in the pit of your stomach grew.

There had barely been a word uttered between the three of you since you met Adrean this morning, the only words shared being when you or Adrean needed to fix the way Din’s weight rested over your shoulder or when you forced Din to rest and drink the last of your water. You stayed silent as your boots scuffed against the ramp that led down into the Covert and even when the quiet murmuring from the Hall met your ears as you rounded the last corner before you would be met with applause.

It was suddenly hard to breathe with the looming fate of Din being forced to take you as riddur just around the corner and you tried to stop walking any closer but Din pulled you along by his side.

“Din,” you gasped his name but he made no effort to acknowledge you, instead his arm weighed heavy on your shoulder as he pulled you into the hall along with him and Adrean.

The roar of applause was almost deafening, so loud that your head began to pound and your eyes squeezed shut. The cheers of your names were bouncing off of the walls and soon the crowd was parting down the middle to show a clear path to the Armorer who stood tall at the other end. As you welcomed the celebration, Din’s weight slipped from your shoulder and he tried to stand on his two feet to accept the praise along with you and Adrean.

With every helmet trained on you - or more likely Din - it became even harder to breathe and between the chants of welcome you found your lips parting as you whispered his name again.

“Din.”

If he heard you above the cheers and chants he showed no sign of it. 

Your eyes ran up his injured body from his leg that was limping with every other step to his fingers that were squeezed around his thumb so tight you could hear the leather wince under the pressure; from his side where the armor was broken all the way to his helmet that was hiding the face you now knew.

His sharp jaw, his dark facial hair and strong nose, his plump lips and his dark eyes that you had not seen the night before but had been a main presence in your dreams for years.

Even though he seemed to hide his physical pain well enough that no one was rushing to help, it was impossible to ignore the anger radiating off of him. His shoulders were held tight and his helmet was trained forward even as you desperately whispered his name again.

“Din, please.”

“Not. Now.” His helmet didn’t move as he answered you through gritted teeth and it caused your own to face back to the front.

As your bottom lip wobbled and your eyes glazed over with unshed tears you were thankful for the wall of beskar between you and the rest of the Covert.

Din somehow managed to march ahead and you fell in line with Adrean who reached for your hand, his fingers tangling with yours as he gave one strong squeeze.

“All will work out, Vod.”

You squeezed his hand back before dropping it, forcing your shoulders high as you sped up enough to catch up to Din and find yourself standing before the Armorer at the same time as him. You know what you did was wrong - one of the worst things that could have happened to Din - but he couldn’t refuse to speak to you ever again. 

You needed time alone with Din to explain yourself. You didn’t have the words this morning - you barely had the words now after repeating a speech over and over in your head the whole trek home - but he needed to know that you didn’t do this make him your riddur. You did this because the thought of doing nothing as he died in your arms was enough to make your stomach churn and heart drop; if you had held him as he took his final breath then you were certain Adrean would have found you in a similar fate the next morning.

The Armorer raised her hand to silence the Hall before you could spiral any further and it was an almost eerie feeling as it happened, the hairs on your arms standing on end as her steady voice began to echo around the room.

“We Mandalorian strive to be the bravest and strongest warriors we can be. The three before me now…” Her helmet tilted down as she spoke the next words to you. “Are the perfect example of who we train to be.”

Her words were like salt to your wound, reminding you that what you had done was the exact opposite of what she expected of Mandalorians.

As her words settled around the room, making your body shake with nerves and causing Din’s to tense even further, the rest of the room met them with a roar of applause. It was even louder than the welcome you had received only a few moments ago - louder than the dragon that had lunged down at you the day before - and your head was spinning as you tried to block it out.

“We will celebrate tonight!” The Armorer called above the noise but as she tried to step away Din jumped forward and placed a hand on her arm to stop her from stepping any further back.

Your body froze as he bent his helmet down to shout loud enough for the Armorer to hear but not loud enough for you or Adrean standing behind him to make out. Her helmet slowly turned to face you, nodding once before Din’s hand dropped down and she turned on her heels.

Everyone else in the room was too busy celebrating to notice their conversation, or to notice how you desperately turned to Adrean and begged silently for help. You tried to step towards Adrean but he was being pulled back into the celebration as a firm hand wrapped around your wrist.

When your head whipped back round you were faced with the back of Din’s helmet, his broad shoulders tight as he began to pull you behind him to follow the Armorer out of the room.

It was disorientating as you stepped out of the bright and loud hall into the dark and silent tunnels as Din continued to drag you behind him. You knew better than to say anything now, pressing your lips together to stop the desperate apologies or practiced explanation from coming out as you tried to keep up with their quick steps.

Even though you had walked these halls since you were a child, and you knew you would be able to make your way through them blindfolded, with your eyes trained on Din’s helmet that refused to turn and look back at you, you had no idea where you were going. 

It felt like the three of you were walking in silence for hours before the Armorer finally slipped into a room and Din stepped aside to usher you into the room in front of him.

When you walked by him and desperately tried to catch his gaze he only ushered you in faster, his hand pressing on the bottom of your back as you stepped into the room and he followed with a click of the door behind. His hand had only been there for a second, falling away the moment the door closed, but his touch had your whole body lighting up as you stood tight by his side and faced the Armorer.

“Both of you…” The Armorer began with her back turned, heavy and fur-trimmed cloak touching the floor between her and you. “Have been the two strongest, and most determined, Mandalorians I have ever had the chance to meet. You have trained for years and have never failed in showing me how dedicated you are to the way.”

She turned back around and you felt both you and Din stand taller under her gaze.

“I do not know why you did what you did.” Her helmet turned to face you and your shoulders turned in on themselves. “But there is a way that this can be… erased. We will have you take one another as riddur.”

The Armorer’s words rang in your ears, your head spinning beneath your helmet. It was as though you could not gasp a breath of air in, your hand reaching for the closest thing to steady yourself - and finding your hand wrapping around Din’s wrist - before his words cut through the silence. 

“Then we will wed tomorrow, at dusk.”

You knew this was what would happen. It was the only thing that could happen. But still you couldn't breathe. 

“This is the way,” the Armorer spoke quietly.

“This is the way,” you and Din replied, your words barely audible.

The Armorer brushed past you as she walked towards the door and you tried to pull Din to stay, your fingers gripping his wrist with your voice caught in your throat, but he slipped from your hold as he followed her out without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

He had left you alone.

The candles in the corner did little to light the small space and your body fell back against the wall behind you, your helmet digging into the rough wall as you bit down on your bottom lip while trying not to cry.

The silence didn’t last long and soon the sound of heavy footsteps coming your way echoed around the room as you squeezed your eyes shut and silently begged them to keep walking past this room. Please, please, please, just go you muttered under your breath, but they never did; the footsteps came to an abrupt stop and the sound of the door opening made you look up.

Your father was standing in the doorway with Adrean and your mother behind him, their three helmets unmoving as you stared back.

“Oh, Vod,” Adrean sighed, brushing past your father and bringing you into his arms.

“You-you tried to tell me. You-” 

You were gasping for breath as his hand ran up and down your back, your parents coming to rest their hands on your shoulders as you fought for air. 

“Shhh, shhh, it's okay,” Adrean sighed. 

No one else spoke or made any attempt to move until your breathing settled and the tears stopped and they only stood back from you when you lifted your head from Adrean.

“There will be a marriage?” Your father asked and you nodded your helmet once. “When?”

“Tomorrow,” you whispered back. 

“You will come back and stay with us tonight.” Your mother stepped forward, taking your hand in hers as she began to pull you to follow her. 

There was nothing they could say that would make you feel better - any less guilty - and so you were glad they stuck to their silence for the rest of the night. 

Your father and brother brought you dinner and your mother stayed quietly by your side as you ate. You usually hated their hovering, hated when they tip-toed around what they wanted to say, but for once you were glad. 

You just needed them to be near you and that was enough. 

By the time night came you were crawling into your childhood bed and watched as Adrean did the same, his tall frame almost folding in half as he tried to find a way to lie comfortably. 

“I’m sorry for what I said,” Adrean said as you both stared up at the ceiling. 

You turned to face him, your brows pulling together as you wondered what it could be he was talking about, but he went on before you had to ask. 

“If I implied that you shouldn't have done what you did… I just wanted you to take a second and think. And you decided that even knowing how you would feel after it that you had to do it… you made the right decision.”

“And now Din hates me,” you replied quietly. 

“He doesn't. He could never. He's just… he's feeling a lot of things and he doesn't know how to even begin going about dealing with them.”

“He could talk to me. He could listen to what I have to say,” you bit back and Adrean finally turned to look at you. 

“Did you? When he left for a year and came back, did you listen to what he had to say?”

You turned back around and wiped angrily at the tears that were threatening to spill over. You know he's right and it just makes you… sad. 

Sad that for years you and Din have been too stubborn to do anything other than hate each other. 

You could see Adrean hold his hand out from the corner of your eye and sighed as you slipped your hand into his. 

“It will be okay,” he whispered and you nodded, closing your eyes as you hoped that you could at least dream without having to think of Din. 

*****

When you woke again it was almost midday and there was only your mother in the room. She was already pouring a bath, her body moving slowly as she tipped the pot of warmed water into the tub before taking a moment to catch her breath. 

“Let me,” you said, pushing yourself up and taking the pot from her hand.

She had long given in to you, your father and brother's attempts to stop her from pushing herself too far. When she first started to become weaker she fought against it so hard she only made herself ill and so now she sat back - but not without a loud sigh and mumble under her breath. 

“You are to meet with Din and the Armorer in a few hours,” she said and you nodded without turning to face her. “I got Adrean to fetch your rose soap too,” she added. 

“Thank you.”

You didn't feel as bad this morning as you did last night. The guilt still weighed heavy in your stomach but Adrean - as usual - had found the right words to say. 

It had taken you a while to begin to forgive Din for leaving you and you were thankful he hadn't pushed you to accept it any faster. It's what you had to do now. 

The silence fell over you both until the tub was filled and your mother began to scrub your armor as you slipped inside. With the warm water surrounding you, you pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your cheek against your knee.

“You know this…  this could be good.”

You couldn’t stop the way you scoffed and your mother’s head snapped around to face you.

It was almost unnerving how much she looked like Adrean. Or Adrean, her. She had the same fiery hair and green eyes, fewer freckles but a similar wide smile. It was pure coincidence but you liked seeing them sit by one another when you were alone together, helmets off as they laughed over something. But as alike they looked in happiness they looked even more alike in anger.

Their hair seemed to burn brighter and their eyes darken, a look that made you realize you were facing a warrior.

“You are stubborn; you always have been. You would fight ade twice, sometimes three times, your size and no matter how hard you got hit you would always get back up again. I think…” She sighed. “I think maybe your father and I made a mistake in telling you how… how… good that was.”

“So would you rather I had given up?”

She sent another glare your way that told you she wasn’t done talking and you pursed your lips together.

“Never. But sometimes it is okay to give in.” When you didn’t answer she went on. “Are you telling me that you truly, from the bottom of your soul, hate Din Djarin? That these aren’t feelings of love that you are too stubborn to admit to because love, perhaps, makes you weak?”

You didn’t answer again and pressed your cheek harder against your knee but your mother raised one frail hand up to hold your cheek.

“Love does not make you weak, my child. It makes you strong. It gives you the motivation to fight for yourself and your family.

“Your father was always the better warrior out of us but the second we found you I had something to fight for. Every time I left the Covert I made sure that I would come home, that I would never let you be left motherless again. And when we found Adrean I only became stronger.”

You didn’t move to wipe the tears that now flowed down your cheeks and your mother quickly wiped them away.

“You do not have to say anything but just… think about it.”

You nodded and when you spoke now it was barely a whisper. “I’m so scared.”

“Of what?” She asked with a slight head tilt.

“Of how much I think I might love him.”

“That is the best kind of love,” she smiled softly, dropping her hand and going back to your armor. 

You let her words surround you before breathing out and reaching for the cloth, scrubbing your body as the evening loomed closer. 

When your father and Adrean returned, your family fell into silence once more and left you to get ready. They each gave you one last glance before leaving the room as you stood in the center; freshly shined armor covering you from the neck down as you waited to place the last piece - your helmet - on and go to repeat the vows you have both dreaded and dreamt of your whole life.

The walk to the Hall seemed to go on forever, or maybe that was your slow pace that left Din and your family waiting until you finally forced yourself to step into the dark Hall.

Din was standing before the Armorer while your father, mother and Adrean were standing along the wall as they watched on. Everyone else’s head in the room was turned towards you except the most important, the only one you were looking at had no interest in turning towards you until you stopped in front of him and tilted your head up to stare into his visor.

You wanted to scream. To yell. To beg him to say something; anything.

You would rather he told you just how much he hated you than left you feeling like this. But then Adrean’s words rang through your head and you relaxed your shoulders as you reminded yourself to give him time.

“A strong union,” the Armorer said, nodding her head once before holding up a silk-like rope.

Din held his arm out first, the rest of his body held stiffly as you wrapped your hand around his forearm and after a moment of deliberation he did the same back. The Armorer tied the rope around your joined arms once and then twice before standing back.

For a moment, neither you or Din spoke. Your visors stared back at one another and his grip seemed to tighten around your arm slightly before you both began to speak.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome.”

Your words echoed around the room together and your own hold on Din began to tighten.

“Mhi me’dinui an.”

Din’s arm pulled ever so slightly to bring you closer towards him, both of your voices dropping to whispers as you spoke the final vow.

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

The Armorer stepped forward and unbound your arms, nodding silently as an acceptance of the riddurship.

“You will return to your room - your new room - and complete the ceremony alone.”

The whole day was never how you would have imagined it. If someone had told eighteen year old you that one day you would have been marrying Din Djarin you would have pretended to gag before running back to your room and twirling around at the thought of how his voice would sound saying those vows. Now, as you stared back into his icy glare you almost wished that you were watching him repeat those words to someone else.

It would be easier to watch him marry someone else than know for certain just how much he hated marrying you.

When the Armorer untied your wrists, and your father, mother and Adrean bid you goodbye, you walked back to your new room behind Din. He never turned back the whole walk there, barely walked slow enough for you to keep up, and he only just held the curtain open long enough for you to follow him inside.

Long story short, there really wasn't much else he could be doing to tell you how angry he was other than utter the words. 

When you stepped inside your jaw fell open. The room was larger than yours, larger than what Din’s would have been too.

It was a room made for a clan, for a family, and so there was the main room you walked into that was still mostly bare except for the few piles of fur blankets and cushions and the bedroom that Din was now walking into.

You followed a few steps behind and immediately your eyes landed on the one large bed covered in throws and blankets that lay in the center of the room. It’s where Din was focused on too if you followed the gaze of his helmet, his hands once again clenching into fists by his side.

“Din, I just want you to know-” You started but Din held his hand up, his visor turning to face you.

“Just- Just stop,” he said, his voice straining.

You tried to remind yourself of Adreans words, of your mothers, but your own stubbornness clamored up and you stepped towards him.

“You’ll have to listen to me at some point, Din. We are bound together, for life.”

“And whose fault is that?” He hissed, turning and stepping towards you.

“Din, I am sorry,” you said, forcing your voice to stay low as you held your hands out. “I am sorry that you are now stuck with me because I know that this is the last thing you wanted. You made that very clear when you begged the Armorer for a life alone over a life with me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. 

Din laughed.

It wasn’t the laugh you would be able to recognise in a room full of laughter, one you yearned to hear and when you were the cause of it a pride swarmed your belly. This laugh was cold, distant, and you could feel his anger as he stared back at you.

“Do you really think that’s why? That I don’t want a life with you?”

“I…” You shrugged and your own anger was already bubbling up to your chest. “Is it not?”

Din turned and ripped his helmet from his head, running his hand down his face. You could only see the back of his head, his curls neater and softer than they had been a few days before, but you had to squeeze your hands into fist to stop yourself from reaching out to run your fingers through them. 

“Is it not?” You said louder this time, stepping towards him again. “If it isn’t then you may as well tell me why because, Din, I have no idea-”

“It is because I love you,” Din hissed and turned so fast you stumbled back, your hands landing on the shelf behind to steady yourself.

The room was only lit by a few candles and yet the orange glow was enough for you to make out his features. His eyes were burning as they stared into yours, his mouth agape as his breathing grew ragged. 

“What?” You croaked.

Din stepped closer until his chest plate was pressed against yours, until you were leaning back over the shelf as his face dipped so close you could feel his breath fan your face as you stared into his dark brown eyes. “I love you. And I hate that I love you. I love you so much that it hurts and that scares me; it scares me that sometimes - all of the time - you are the only thing I can think of and to think that if I let myself have you there will come a time I will lose you? It would be easier to not have you at all.”

His chest was rising and falling with each angry breath and his cheeks were flushed pink as his eyes searched yours.

“Why would you lose me?” You asked, only able to bring yourself to whisper the words.

“Because I lose everyone. I lost my parents. And my parents loved each other more than anyone I’ve ever seen. My father told my mother he would always protect her and then he had to watch her, who he loved more than anything, die.”

His voice, his usually strong and determined voice, shook more and more with each word he said and it made your heart shatter in your chest.

“Din…” You lifted your hand to hold his cheek and he closed his eyes as he leaned into your touch.

“I burn for you,” he whispered so quietly you could barely hear it.

His eyes were still squeezed shut and the blush of pink started to drain from his face. You took a moment to truly look at him.

His eyes that were hidden from you but were surrounded by a few wrinkles at the side - signs of a smile that you realized you hadn’t seen since you were ade. His cheeks were slightly hollower than they had been two days before and you wondered if he had struggled to sleep while you were so exhausted you couldn’t help but sleep. His lips were pink and pouting but with marks on the bottom lip where he had dug his teeth into. His jaw was sharp, slightly more stubble there now, and his mustache covered his top lip.

He was so much more than you could have ever imagined.

You let your hand fall from his face and his eyes slipped open. They were softer now, his brows pulling together as you reached for your own helmet.

When you were young you had imagined that when you first showed your riddur your face you would have been nervous of what they thought, if they would be happy or disappointed, but now all those thoughts were silenced and the only one was that you needed Din to see your eyes when you spoke again.

His mouth fell open when you finally lifted it from your head, your hands shaking as you placed it on the shelf behind you, and you watched as his eyes began to fill with unshed tears.

“Din… I have spent years, almost my whole life, pretending to hate you and… it’s exhausting. I-” You shook your head as you tried to find the words. “You infuriate me and make me say and do things I never thought I would but- but I love you.”

Din gasped and his hands came to settle on your waist, his whole body pressing against yours as you looked up to him.

It was like everything seemed to slow down as you lifted yourself to stand on your toes as his head dipped down, his nose bumping against your own and his lips barely brushing against yours as you stayed there for a moment. Neither of you made an attempt to move closer as his breathing calmed but then suddenly you moved together and his mouth pressed against yours.

You could feel his breath fan your cheek as his nose pressed against your skin, his hand coming to settle against your back as he pulled you against him ever so slightly.

It was obvious that this was the first time either of you had kissed someone, neither of you moving for a fraction too long before his tongue grazed against your bottom lip and you opened yourself to him. It was a mess of tongue and teeth as your hands came up to hold the back of his neck and pull him even closer against you until his nose was pressing against your cheek and his hands were gripping your back and molding your body against his.

It was desperate and messy… and it felt perfectly right.

“You are… so beautiful,” he whispered against your lips.

He walked you back until the shelf was digging into the bottom of your back but the pain disappeared the second his lips trailed down your neck, his hand roughly holding your jaw as he pressed his body as close as he could to you while bending down enough to kiss and bite up your neck.

It was setting off a fire in the pit of your belly, one that made you feel out of control of your body as you parted your legs a little wider so his thigh could slip in between.  

“I can’t think when I’m around you,” he mumbled against your skin and your hands found their way into his hair. 

His hands slid down your side and gripped your hips as he pulled you closer against him.

This was what you needed - you needed Din to take you as his. It was fast, exciting, scary, arousing, amazing, new.

Your hips seemed to move of their own accord and you rocked down against his thigh. Your head tipped back and you moaned in a way that shocked even you, your teeth biting into your bottom lip to try and silence them. 

“Don't,” Din’s voice strained and he shook his head against your neck as he kissed back up your jaw. His lips brushed against yours when you spoke again, his fingers that had been freed from his gloves at some point traced across your bottom lip as his eyes that were now blown back zeroed in on it. “Don't hide that from me.”

You rocked your hips experimentally again and couldn't stop the soft moan that brushed past your lips again, the sound making Din’s mouth hang open as he ground against your hip. 

His mouth was suddenly pressed against yours and your hands flew up to hold his jaw, both of your bodies pressed as close as possible to one another. 

But then his fingers began to unclasp the armor on your thighs and suddenly everything that had been exciting and new was just fast and scary and your nerves overtook your arousal. 

“Wait. Din, stop,” you mumbled against his lips. 

Immediately he stopped, his hands dropping to his side as he took a large enough step back to separate your bodies.

“Are you okay?”

You took a slow breath before nodding and watched as Din’s body seemed to relax along with yours. You forced your eyes not to tear up as you took in the large gap between your bodies, your hands coming to grip the shelf behind as you breathed out slowly. 

“I’m sorry, I just- this is just so-”

“Fast.” Din finished for you and you nodded. “We- we don't have to.” He stepped slowly forward and held your wrists in his hand, lifting them and pressing a kiss to both. His eyes flicked between both of yours, watching as you slowly took in what he had said. “Tonight… tonight we can just sleep. I can sleep in the other room.”

“I- I- I’m sorry, I-”

You felt dizzy. He had barely spoke to you for days and had been so angry with you… but then he told you he loved you and then he had been desperate in his want for you and now he was being so gentle and-

“Breathe,” he said quietly, his hand coming up to rest on your cheek. “Don’t apologise. We can take this day by day.”

You nodded against his palm, closing your eyes for a moment. 

If there is one thing you have always done, it is trust in Din Djarin. You've hated and loved him, appreciated and been annoyed by him, laughed and cried over him, but you've always trusted him. 

“Good?” He asked quieter. 

“Good.” You nodded, opening your eyes. 

He leaned forward slightly and you held your breath but when his lips pressed gently against your forehead your whole body relaxed. 

“I will be just in there,” he mumbled against your skin before stepping back, reaching for his helmet and walking back into the main room. 

The exhaustion of the past few days finally hit and you just managed to get off all your armor before crawling into your new bed and pulling the sheets and blankets up to your neck. 

Despite being tired, no matter how many times you closed your eyes and tried to force your mind to rest, sleep never came.

You tossed and turned, threw the covers off and pulled them back on, got up and walked to the doorway only to run back into bed.

You found yourself pushing your weight up again, swinging your legs round until your feet landed on the cold floor as you slipped off the bed. 

I’ll count to ten then I will go get him. The words were spinning around your head so much that you found yourself counting to a hundred before you finally walked to the doorway, forcing yourself to step into the main room before you could stop yourself.

“Din?” You whispered.

You waited a minute until the rustling came, Din’s weight pushing up until he was looking across the room at you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, his voice deep from sleep and luring you closer to him as you stopped at the end of the makeshift bed he was lying on.

“I- I can’t sleep.”

He didn’t say anything but sat up higher as his forearms rested on his knees.

“Can you come to bed?” You went on, whispering so quietly you weren’t sure how he heard you.

“Are you sure?” He whispered back almost as quietly. 

“Please,” you said.

More rustling came as he sat up, blowing out the candle that was still lit on the shelf by his bed as he stood in front of you. You slipped your hand into his warm one before you could stop yourself and began to pull him behind you.

“Maker, you’re cold,” Din mumbled, walking faster to overtake and pull you along behind him.

There were still a few candles lit in the bedroom giving you the first glance at Din’s bare skin. He was only in a pair of black boxers, his muscles tensing with each step he took towards the bed, and you tried not to look. You couldn't help yourself though, your eyes tracing over the black ink that marked his skin all the way up his arms and back minus a spot between his shoulder blades. 

Din stopped at the end of the bed with his hand still surrounding yours, and you quickly looked up as he turned around to face you. It was obviously the first time he had realised you were almost completely bare save for the thin underwear you were wearing. 

His eyes quickly flicked up to yours, his whole body tense but eyes soft as he leaned forward to press a kiss against your forehead. 

“Slow is good,” he whispered. 

“Slow is good,” you repeated back. 

He reached for the bed sheet, holding it up and nodding his head for you to crawl in before he followed. He seemed to be unsure about how close he should go to you, his body stiff on the other end of the bed, and so you shuffled closer to him. 

You rested your hand on his chest and felt the way his heart seemed to hammer beneath his skin. 

“Is this okay?” You whispered. 

“Yes,” he said, his voice strained. 

After a moment his arm slid beneath you and pulled you tighter against him, your head now resting on his chest and your body pressed to his side. 

“Is this? Okay, I mean,” he asked. 

“Yes,” you whispered back. 

You rested your hand in the center of his chest and began to trace the designs that had been tattooed onto his skin.

Without knowing the story behind them it could have been simple lines, covering the majority of his chest, arms and back too. He stayed quiet as your fingers danced along the lines of ink, his body shivering when you ran down his sides and you both laughed quietly, some of the tension disappearing. 

“The empty spot, on your back…” Your words trailed off and Din raised his hand to rest on the bottom of your back, his fingers dancing along your skin. 

“It’s… it’s for when I have my own clan.” You hummed appreciatively and he down at you. His fingers gently gripped your chin as he tilted your head up to his, a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth before he spoke again. “I guess I have one now.”

You tried to bite back your own smile but it was no use. 

The tension in the room seemed to build again and Din cleared his throat, letting your chin go as he pulled you closer against his body. 

“Sleep. It's been a long day,” he said and you nodded against his chest. 

His hand didn’t stop moving until you fell asleep, the gentle lull of his fingers tracing along your back and bringing you closer and closer to sleep without worrying about Din for the first time in years.

//

Finally! These two are finally dealing with their emotions (slowly) - thank you for the patience in the time between updates but I didn't want to just put anything out there and these two mean so much to me

//

Tags

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#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x foc #din djarin x oc #din djarin #the mandalorian #mandalorian #mandalorian fic #mando x reader

[lady-phasma]

Impenetrable

Chapter 1 of 5 (cross posted from AO3)

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Dar'Nîla (Togruta OFC)

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, general smut, p in v sex in later chapters, D/s if you squint, plot if you squint. Written in first person fem!reader.

Summary a/n: Mando and Dar'Nîla meet and she's quite brazen. Reference images for Dar'Nîla after the cut. I wrote this during season 2, around episode 5. No beta. 2k words.

This is my reference for Dar'Nîla from the video game The Old Republic.

I saw him walk into the cantina. I watched him over the top of my mug as he went to the bar. You couldn’t not watch him. The beskar he was wearing was so new it reflected everything near him.

What could a Mandalorian possibly get at a bar? I thought. Do they use straws? No, that’s too banal.

I couldn’t stop staring. I knew he could feel all of us watching. But how many of those eyes were trying to determine how difficult it would be to seduce him while assuring him you wanted his armor to stay on? Probably only mine.

I sat my drink down, placed my front lekku meticulously to frame my breasts, and shimmied my shirt down just a little. The thin, white fabric pulled tight across the rise of my breasts and my purple skin shone through bright and unmistakable. The leather vest rode just below like a corset. I wasn’t great at being feminine but I could give a good show. My shitty, practical boots and plain leather pants were about as unfeminine as it could get. The one asset the pants had was how they stretched tight against and accentuated my ass. I checked the room and saw I had no competition so I stood, smoothed my pants over my hips, and walked to his table.

“Hi,” was somehow the best I could manage. I was never this forward.

His head turned, deliberately slow. I was immediately aware of the advantage he had over me: he could see facial expressions that I only had to guess at. This was going to be tough.

“Yes?” he responded.

I slid into the chair across from him and propped my elbows on the table, my breasts on my arms. I was going to make this easy for him because that would make it easier for me. One lek fell in front of my carefully arranged display and I brushed it aside.

“Um, yeah, hi! I’m Dar’Nîla,” I managed.

“Hi.”

“You don’t say much do you?” I beamed at him. “I’ve heard about you. They call you Mando.” I flashed my blue eyes at him.

“Some do.”

“ Can I call you that?” I played with a crumb on the table that I found, suddenly, much more fascinating than the blank surface of his helmet.

“Sure. What’s on your mind… Dar….?” He trailed off.

“‘Nîla,” I finished for him.

“Dar’Nîla, right. What’s on your mind?” he asked again.

I stammered. I’m never great at flirting and usually better at it when I don’t have a clue that I’m actually doing it. He was just so unsettling, so disarming. He was no one. Only what I projected onto him until he spoke or moved. Those were the only glimpses allowed into his personality. How could I possibly find something to flirt about? It was like talking to my reflection.

I investigated the table, ran a finger around an old ring from a glass. This place was filthy. But my mouth had gone incredibly dry. I flagged a hand at a waitress and ordered another beer. I looked him in the eye.

“What’s on my mind is that I would very much like to have a beer with you, ahem, near you is more accurate I guess, get to know you a little better, and then try to get you in my pants since there’s very little chance I could get in yours.” I blurted all of this out at once so that he couldn’t interrupt me and so I wouldn’t lose my courage.

That was the best possible moment for my beer to arrive. I buried my face in it and looked up at him. His head was tilted just slightly. Curious? Maybe. Offended? He hadn’t run for the door. Yet.

“Well, Dar’Nîla, that was quite the speech. Did you have anything specific in mind?” he asked.

I could feel his eyes on me and hear the smirk on his lips. I don’t know if he’d had one or one hundred women but he definitely knew how to manipulate me. I gulped some more beer, mostly to give myself time to think of an appropriate answer.

“Ummmm we could sit here and talk, since you’re so chatty and all, or we could get me some dinner and make our way back to your place. Get to know you better along the way?” I looked into my beer as I said the last bit. I couldn’t look at him. I was able to say all that about pants a moment ago and now I only wanted to crawl under the table. He made me feel like he was pure and I was… was what? Unclean for having these thoughts. But I knew that wasn’t true from the way he moved. The way he stayed.

His movements were slow and deliberate. He stood and reached for my hand at the same time. His gloved fingers lifted mine and I followed. I dropped some credits on the table for the beer before we walked out.

The suns were setting. The street vendors’ food crackled over fires and the smells drifted and mingled around us. I was working hard at playing it cool. I was quite sure I was not succeeding. I made a lot of assumptions about him. I assumed he wouldn’t be eating. He probably ate alone. So I stopped at a food stall and swapped some credits for a meat on a stick. Not sure what it was exactly but the sizzling fat smelled delicious. We carnivores aren’t terribly picky eaters when we’re very hungry. I tore off a mouthful.

“So, do this often, do you?” I asked as I chewed and swallowed. I was so nervous around him that I forgot all of my manners. He completely disarmed me.

“No.”

Fuck, would I ever get more than one word out of this man? I licked sauce off of my finger and looked at my boots as we walked. When I looked up he was staring at me.

“Me either,” I said. “In fact, I don’t really talk to people I don’t know. I just… I don’t know, I thought I would risk it.”

I looked back at my feet and blushed. Hard. I could feel the heat rise from my neck, first deep violet then light pink as it hit my white cheeks. All the way up my montrals and down my lekku. Sheesh. This was embarrassing.

I felt him pause. I stopped a step ahead and turned back. He seemed to be searching for something, listening maybe. God it was so hard to tell with that helmet. He turned and looked past me.

“Here,” he said and he slid a hand around mine and started walking. I’m glad he had his back to me because my mouth hung open. I shook myself out of the shock and followed.

He gave a few credits to a man selling frozen, shaved juices. I stood, mutely, watching his movements. His head tilted just enough for me to imagine he was smiling. Maybe his helmet was more expressive than I thought. He handed me the shaved ice. The evening was hot even after the suns set. I wouldn’t have thought to get this treat for myself but since he was buying. Why not? Bounty hunters aren’t hard up for credits.

I stared at the cone of ice as if I had forgotten how to eat. I looked up at him questioningly.

“I would like to watch you eat it,” he said. It was flat with no inflection. I couldn’t object or give it back to him. I couldn’t tell him he was weird and to keep his stupid shaved juice. In fact, I wanted the opposite. My body tingled like I had touched a live wire. I wanted to perform for him. I looked directly at him and licked the sweet ice. The movements of his helmet were almost invisible but once I knew what to look for I began to see them more clearly. This one seemed to be focus, intensity, just the slightest forward tilt. I tasted it again. My face was on fire. I wanted to die from embarrassment. I could guess a million reasons he wanted this but none of them mattered.

There was nothing in the world at that moment but the two of us. The noise of the street around us faded away. I could see my distorted reflection in his helmet and that inspired me to take a longer lick from my ice. I closed my eyes, wiped the corner of my mouth with the back of my hand. He took a step closer to me. This could not actually be happening to me. This was all a fantasy I created and I was still sitting in the cantina.

No. He walked closer and put a hand on the small of my back. He guided me toward an alley. He was touching me. I felt like I was shaking all over. We stopped a few feet into the alley. He took the cone from my hand and dropped it by my feet. I was frozen. What was happening? The Mandalorian actually wanted me? He wanted something. I wasn’t sure what but here we were.

He stepped toward me and I moved back so that I was pressed against the dusty wall. He put his hand on it beside my head. His body turned away from the street so that his cape hid me almost entirely. I exhaled. I had been holding my breath but in this small world he created for us I started to relax. To feel less embarrassed.

“Well?” he said. He was so cryptic. This air of mystery was almost overdone. Almost an act, yet… yet not.

“Well…” I replied. “I’m beginning to think this is all on your terms, so what would you like?”

He thought about this for a moment. His free hand started up and then fell back to his side. His helmet moved slightly. Then his hand was on my waist. Gentle but squeezing just a bit. I tried hard not to react but his grip was strong. I grazed my fingers over the vambrace on his forearm. His fingers tensed when I touched the metal. I traced a line up his arm and then down to his chest. Trying to read his mind was excruciating.

Slowly, letting him see the direction of each movement as it began, I placed one hand on his side and the other on the vambrace near my head. I felt the rough fabric of his shirt under my palm, the muscles underneath moving with his breath. I slid my hand around to the small of his back and pulled him closer. I pushed my hips out to meet his. I moaned through my teeth when I finally felt his body on mine.

The cuisses covering his thighs were hard against my legs. But that wasn’t all that was hard. I moved my hips just enough to feel that, yes, The Mandalorian was enjoying himself. I had read his mind well enough it seemed. I moved my hand down to his ass and pressed against him as much as either of us could stand.

He muttered something and abruptly grabbed my waist with both hands. He almost picked me up as he moved me away from him. He placed me at arms length with the concentration a child has with the placement of a doll. I think he really wanted to tell me to “stay put” or something like that. So, I crossed my arms across my chest, jutted one hip out, and pouted.

When he saw the look on my face he shook his head.

“My ship isn’t far from here,” he said.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x ofc #mando x togruta ofc #din djarin #din dijarin x oc #mando x oc #the mandolarian #mando fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #mando smut #din djarin smut #mando x f!reader #mando x fem!reader #din dijarin x reader

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Fanfic & Art Masterlist

Request Info | Taglist Form | Requests: OPEN

[REQ] denotes requested works

[M] denotes work is Mature; not recommended for minors.

[WIP] Work In Progress; active to semi-active.

Updated:4/13

Miscellaneous Characters/Stuff

Like Family: Feral - a submitted fic to darling June of fallenrepublick (and my first ever SW fanfiction). 

Star Wars as Birds

The Mandalorian

Fireside Friendship [Mando x GN!Reader]

[REQ] Beskar Buddies [Mando and Boba Fett]

[M] Your Body Remembers [Mando x GN!Reader] [WIP]

THE BAD BATCH

Rough Stuff: Wrecker x Sick!Reader {A sick-fic idea I had like a year ago}

Sorry, Wrong Comms!: Hunter x Medic!Reader

[REQ] Thorny Days [Hunter x Fem!Reader]

[REQ] Late, Lakeside Picnic [Wrecker x Reader]

[REQ] Twelve Standard Hours [Wrecker x Fem!Reader]

I See You [Crosshair x Fem!Reader]

Tide pools aren't for swimming [TBB x GN!Reader]

[REQ] Babe Across The Bar [LGBT+ Fem!Reader]

A (Hair)Cut Above The Rest [Hunter x Fem!Reader]

[REQ] It's a Mario Party! [TBB Headcanons]

CFE: Of Honeysuckle and Haiku [Tech x Fem!Reader]

[REQ] Untitled [Hunter x Fem!Reader] [WIP]

Untitled [Wrecker x F!Jedi!Reader] [WIP]

On hold: Hunting the Nexu

GENERAL CLONE STUFF

Contains OCs, Drabbles/Ficlets, 3 Am Thoughts™ and Headcanons on "Clone Culture" that I've taken to writing while watching TCW all the way through for the first time~

Clone OCs Masterlist

Under Bursting Skies [GN!Reader Ficlet]

[M] "Creative" Miniseries [501st Edition]

[M] "Creative" Miniseries [TBB + Wolfpack Edition]

[M] "Creative" Miniseries [212th Edition]

On hold: Welcome to the "Cozy Clone" Hotel

THE CLONE WARS

Mostly the Clones from the series; contains Drabbles/(Mini)Fics and Headcanons.

[REQ] Captain Rex with a shy love interest

[REQ] Captain Rex with a shy partner

[M] Poets and Painters - Commander Wolffe x Reader

[REQ] Movie Night! [501st x GN!Reader]

[REQ] The Long Way Home [Fives x Reader]

Pick My Brain

Example One of my thoughts on proper Canon vs Legends and why I'm probably inaccurate

Why I use ____ in my fics: [Mando’a] [Distinction of "non-alcoholic beverage"]

My Art

**Not all of my artwork is added to my masterlist so be sure to check out my art tag for everything!**

The Domino Twins - Star Wars

The Blue King - Star Wars

How Dominoes Fall - Star Wars

99's Legacy - Star Wars

Tears for Her Kingdom - Legend of Zelda

Haunted by 42 - Marvel

KYBER//COLOR - Star Wars

Last of the Pack - Star Wars

In a hole in the ground... - Tolkien

Troops of the Tribunal - Star Wars

Clone Helmet Collection I - Star Wars

The Little Mudhorn - Star Wars

Sun Lanterns - Disney

"Plo's Bros" Nose Art - Star Wars

Snowclone - Star Wars

Clone Collection II - Star Wars

How Good A Man - Star Wars

Clone Helmet Collection III - Star Wars [WIP]

#frostfics masterlist #frostfics #frostsfanart #traditional art #traditional artist #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #star wars the clone wars #sw tcw #the clone wars #swtcw #tcw #the mandalorian #the book of boba fett

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Tolkien Masterlist

Middle Earth

Gondor

Lothlórien

Beleriand

Rohan

Rivendell

Amon Lanc:

Mirkwood:

Thranduil x Finrod x Reader

Angband:

Melkor x Reader

Almaren:

Mairon x Reader

Utumno 

Valinor

Ilmarin:

Eönwë x Reader

Halls of Mandos:

Námo (Mandos) x Reader

Forests/Halls of Oromë

Alqualondë:

Námo x Lissëndë (OC)

Halls of Tulkas

Tirion

Formenos

Fëanor x Reader

Character x Character ships

Varinen (Varda x Uinen)

Calamórë

Fëanor x Námo

Lords of Ilmarin (Manwe x Eonwe)

Medieval! AU

Medieval! Ainur AU Masterlist

Modern! AU

Mairon x Reader

Thranduil x Reader

Headcanons / Layouts / Mood Boards

Tevildo: HC 1

Alqualondë: City layout | Olwe’s palace layout | Temple of Eru layout

Re-embodied Finrod in Mirkwood: Part 1

The five kingdoms of the sons of Fëanor

Multi-Part Fics

Thranduil x Fem. Reader: A Better Future

What would a character do:

What would Thranduil do

#masterlist #tolkien #tolkien masterlist

[ocyeangf]

our song!

ethan morales x oc!fem fic

warning!: na bora es un personaje original que yo cree, no me molesta escribir usando "y/n" pero para este fic preferí hacerlo así.

na bora no era alguien muy relevante en su escuela; pasaba sus días rodeada de hojas de estudio y de su música favorita.

ella era solo la chica coreana que era muy aplicada, pero nunca lo suficiente. sus otras dos amigas: devi y fabiola, eran mucho más inteligentes que ella, a quien todavía le costaba hablar inglés. en cambio, eleanor y aneesa, no eran alumnas tan aplicadas como ella pero tampoco eran tontas.

desde que había entrado a la escuela de sherman oaks había echo varios enemigos en el camino, si bien solía mantener un perfil bajo en la escuela su carácter no evitaba ciertas apariciones.

ben gross, era una persona que bora aborrecía: no solo porque (este nuevo año escolar) se había acostado con devi y la había ignorado todo el verano, si no por su ingenio de dar apodos insultantes a las personas, en especial a ella y sus amigas. gracias a que su temperamento no se controlaba cuando ben decía algo fuera de lugar, bora conocía detención tan bien como conocía la palma de su mano.

bora caminaba por el pasillo con su cuaderno y sus partituras en mano, le gustaba mucho tocar el piano y siempre inventaba nuevos sonidos para tocarle a su hermanita menor. el hombro de su enemigo, ben gross, chocó con el de ella y todas sus hojas cayeron al suelo.

"dios! mira por donde caminas" se agacho a recoger cada partitura y se dio cuenta de que ben seguía de pie, mirándola, más bien mirando las partituras. "qué miras?!" le gritó. tal vez fue un poco fuerte porque todos los ojos adolescentes volaron a esa escena.

se levanto del suelo y le devolvió a ben el choque de hombros. camino a paso apresurado y se fue a su próxima clase.

cuando entro a la clase de español, tomó su asiento tras eleanor, e ignoro a la profesora cuando esta empezó a hablar en español. apenas entendía el inglés y ahora le hablaban en español, lo peor era que esta era una clase obligatoria.

"devi, ¿vas a poder llevarme a mi casa hoy? ya no quiero caminar" desde que, según devi, la nueva novia de ben había escrito perra estupida en su auto ella se había negado a subirla a su auto; y que su madre la viera llegar en ese horror a casa porque sabía lo exigente que podía llegar a ser. pero se había hartado de caminar a casa, y ayer la habían perseguido tres perros que parecían tener rabia.

por el alta voz se escuchó la voz de la directora llamar a margot. "supongo que eso es un si?"

"supones bien, bora" devi le sonrió. "esa maldita tendrá su merecido, después de que-"

"shh" eleanor la mando a callar cuando su nuevo amor adolescente entro por la puerta y fue a sentarse detrás de devi. ethan morales, un chico malo al que su amiga le había echado el ojo luego de rechazar a trent.

"lindo moretón, ethan"

ella y devi se miraron confundidas. bora nunca había coqueteado con alguien en su vida, pero leía muchos libros, y nunca leyó un coqueteo como ese. jamás.

"hm, ¿gracias?. me caí"

"ethan" la profesora los interrumpió "quieres pasar a escribir tus mascotas en la pizarra?" otra vez, bora se quedó procesando que había dicho la mujer.

"no, gracias"

"solo pasa a la pizarra" dijo esta vez en inglés.

bora lo siguió con la mirada cuando se levantó, y tocó el hombro de eleanor para que esta se voltee. "no entiendo que le vez. tiene tanta profundidad como una roca"

"eso no es cierto. el es un chico profundo" volvió su vista a la pizarra, "mira, el chico tiene tortugas"

en la pizarra estaba la palabra tortugas escrita en español, junto a otras dos palabras que no entendió. pero se dio cuenta de un detalle, las letras T eran iguales a las T del acto de vandalismo de devi, parecía que ella también se dio cuenta.

cuando ethan volvió a sentarse y devi le pregunto si había grafiteado su auto el dijo "oh, ese era tu auto? creí que era el de la señora Díaz; me puso una F. perra estupida"

bora lo miro con odio mientras la profesora lo regañaba. ese mal intento de chico malo era el principal causante de que fuera perseguido por tres perros ayer mientras iba a su casa. solo esperaba que devi encontrara a alguien que limpiara su auto.

justo cuando abrió su casillero, devi apareció detrás de ella con una mirada triste "¿qué?"

"bora… no enloquezcas pero, no voy a poder llevarte a tu casa porque ahora no se quien va a limpiar mi auto y-"

bora dejo de escuchar lo que devi le decía cuando vio a un ethan muy tranquilo riendo al final del pasillo. devi le había enseñado un ejercicio para calmar su temperamento, dijo que era una recomendación de su terapeuta, pero ahora romperle a ethan la cara a golpes y usar sus técnicas de karate para eso le parecía la solución.

cerró su casillero con fuerza y caminó con odio hacia el chico y sus amigos, con devi pisándole los talones.

le saco a ethan la patineta donde apoyaba su pie, y este casi cayó al suelo. "hey. ¿que mierda te pasa?"

"me voy a quedar con esta cosa hasta que arregles el desastre que hiciste en el auto de devi, punk mal nacido" le dijo con una mirada poco amigable.

ethan se miró con sus amigos "no me importa, tengo 4 de esas en casa"

"ah si? entonces voy a romperte esta en la cabeza y te haré limpiar ese grafiti con la lengua" le grito muy fuerte que sintió sus cuerdas vocales rogarle que parara. pero no iba a permitirse ser perseguida por perros otra vez.

desvió su mirada de ethan cuando un chico habló "wow, pareces tan loca como bellatrix lestrange" obviamente entendió esa referencia porque se había leído cada libro de harry potter, así que puso su mejor cara de enana desquiciada mientras miraba a aquel chico con odio.

"me suspendieron una semana por casi romper la columna de ben gross, y mi karate solo mejoró desde ese día. ¿acaso quieres ser mi próximo muñeco de prueba?"

él pareció dudarlo porque miró a ethan asustado "eh, no"

"bien dicho. arregla el auto, idiota" sin darle la patineta y bajo una mirada extraña de parte de ethan, se fue con devi siguiéndole los talones.

le sonrió a la abuela de devi después de que ella dijera salía con alguien. se había quedado en casa de su amiga a dormir con tal de no ir caminando a casa.

su celular vibró en su bolsillo trasero. "soy ethan. estoy afuera." un segundo mensaje llego. "espera, tu no eres devi" revoleo los ojos y tomó la patineta junto a la puerta principal para luego salir afuera.

ethan estaba al lado de la camioneta con una bolsa de plástico en las manos. le tiro la patineta cerca de sus pies y vio que tenía una en las manos, no mentía cuando dijo que tenía más.

"no vas a golpearme con esa en la cabeza?" le dio una sonrisa.

"no si arreglas el auto"

"por qué te importa tanto si lo limpio o no?, no es tu auto"

"si, pero devi me llevaba cada día a casa hasta que mi madre vio ese lindo grafiti que hiciste y me dijo que si volvía a subirme a ese auto iba a desheredarme" detuvo sus palabras cuando noto que ethan la miraba demasiado. "entonces… lo vas a limpiar o...?"

"eres un poco ruda, no?"

"puede ser"

"bueno, nunca me habían gritado así antes" su tono de voz se había puesto más grave, eso causó un revoloteo en el estómago de bora por primera vez en su vida.

"si, lo que sea…" trato de ignorarlo pero lo que dijo después solo la puso más nerviosa.

"es sexi"

qué? los ojos de bora se abrieron de la sorpresa. nunca nadie le había dicho esas dos palabras y menos con esa voz tan... tan... ni ella sabía cómo describirlo.

ethan siguió hablando como si nada "si, cuando me estabas gritando y amenizando a mi amigo, pensé: diablos, bora si que es sexi"

lo miro como si le hubieran salido tres cabezas, ignorando sus ojos tan encantadores y sus rulos revoltosos. y salió corriendo a la puerta de devi.

corrió sin mirar en donde pisaba y casi cayó de cara al suelo cuando subió muy rápido los escalones, escuchando la risa de ethan de fondo.

no podía caer ante sus palabras, eleanor era la que se la pasaba hablando de él y su aura misteriosa. ¿por qué le estaba diciendo todo esto?

apoyo su espalda en la puerta rogando porque ethan limpiará el auto y se fuera tan rápido como llegó. pero pego un salto cuando patti le hablo "estas bien chica? estas pálida como un vampiro"

Nalini la examinó de pies a cabeza y volvió salir corriendo, pero esta vez se fue a la habitación de devi.

que mierda iba a hacer ahora?

#ethan morales #never have i ever #ethan morales x you #ethan morales x reader #paxton hall yoshida #devi vishwakumar #ethan morales x y/n

[beardedjoel]

gif credit (x) 

Part Three of the Signs of a Lifetime Series

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC / fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.2k

Warnings: smut, mild violence, language

A/N: wooooo back on my smut writing bs for this chapter pls enjoy! as usual this is also on AO3 if you’re looking to get alerts for new chapters ~

Chapter Summary:

Mando and Alya meet up again on Nevarro, still trying to work through their feelings for each other and hold back from the magnetic attraction they both feel. Alya struggles with the concept of opening her heart to a relationship, as Mando shows her steadfast care and friendship.

Two days before Mando was supposed to meet her, Alya arrived on Nevarro. She turned in her bounty with Greef Karga, and in return received the credits she was owed, several bounty pucks for her next jobs, and a typically charming conversation with him. Much like every conversation they had, it included him mentioning how she was the most popular and envied bounty hunter in the Guild right now, and as usual she rolled her eyes at him. She had overheard him saying the same exact thing to a number of people over the years. 

Alya took her credits and treated herself to her first hot, fresh meal in a while and decided to stay in the inn next to the cantina for a few days while she was in town. The rooms there were simple with just a bed, chair, nightstand, and small bathroom, but Alya could at least get a good shower in here compared to the one on her ship. While they weren’t anything necessarily luxurious, she also found the beds in the inn much more comfortable than what she was used to sleeping on - maybe it was time for an upgrade, she had thought to herself as she had lounged back on it that evening.

Mando had sent her a comlink message saying he would be delayed by about a day, so it had now been three days since she left him on Tatooine. She tried to avoid the thoughts bouncing in her head that she already missed him, but was frustrated to find that she really was looking forward to being in his presence again. She felt as if these last few days had just been biding her time until she could see him again. Their escapade through the desert had made her realize that his company was a comfort to her, and she hadn’t experienced that with anyone in her life, not so purely and truly like she did with him. Even with all the complicated emotions that had been bubbling up since they met, she still realized that would bear all of that just to spend another second with him.

The night before Mando’s arrival, she anxiously sent a comlink voice message to him:

“I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m staying at the inn. Find me there if you dare.”

Alya couldn’t believe how nervous she’d been sending a fucking comlink message, and how she’d sat there for what felt like ages, so embarrassingly long, coming up with the perfect message that didn’t give away too much of her excitement or sound desperate. She didn’t even expect Mando to respond - it was late and her message had been simple. She had already turned out the light and was trying to will herself to sleep when she heard a familiar message notification noise.

“Is that a threat, freckles?” came Mando’s deep, modulated voice over the comm. His voice filled the dark room, and she could almost pretend he had been right there with her. The thought of him alone with her in this dark room sent sparks across her skin. She quickly scrambled to message him back, liking the feeling that they were mostly communicating in real time at this point. 

“Why don’t you come and find out?”

Mando’s next message began with a sultry, deep, chuckle. “Challenge accepted.”

Alya left their messages there, his voice still hanging in the room with her and a warm feeling filling her core. She clutched her communicator to her chest for a few moments longer before setting it aside and attempting to sleep again, her heart beating a bit faster than normal and the flirty nature of their conversation threatening desire somewhere within her. She swiped her hands down her face as she lay in the dark and repeated the words that didn’t sound like words anymore because she’d said them so many times to herself the last few days - no distractions. 

She really didn’t know who she was kidding anymore. 

-

The cantina was typically bustling with bounty hunters and random folks from all across the galaxy, and today was no different. All of them were eager for their chance to turn in quarries or get the newest and best one Greef had to offer. For Alya, it had never really been her favorite crowd - sure, they did the same kind of work, but she had little interest in getting to know them, or anyone at all really. 

Alya was avoiding the rowdy, social midday crowd by quietly sitting in a rounded booth built into the far wall of the room, trying to enjoy her lunch in solitude. It was warm on Nevarro, and all the bodies in the room didn’t help, so she had opted to wear a gauzy, flowing muted blue tank top with a few cinched holes down the front and equally flowy tan pants. She would be lying to herself if she said she hadn’t wanted to impress Mando a little bit with her show of skin when she chose this outfit today. The feeling of picking out an outfit for him to see had made her feel practically sick with the nervous fluttering that danced around her insides - Maker, she could barely recognize herself.

She suddenly picked up on that shift in the air that she knew well at this point, and had spent countless minutes thinking about. The way she felt a little on edge with excitement, and her stomach began to flip the tiniest bit. The whole room silenced slightly, the tension grew, and she knew he had arrived. Most of the Guild seemed envious of his success and favor for getting Greef’s best bounties, and considering most of this room were members, the growing uneasiness around them made sense.

She glanced over to the doorway where Mando was walking in, and put on a show giving her best obnoxious grin and wave towards him. He made a straight shot for her, and Alya knew people were trying to calculate just exactly what was going on with the two of them as he walked by them to get to her. He gave her a nod in greeting before sitting down across from Alya, his face hidden behind the helmet giving nothing away, but she hoped he was smiling at seeing her again just like she was. 

“Mando,” she nodded back, trying to keep up a straight, serious facade. She cracked a small smile for a quick moment and tried to reign it in again, but her overwhelming giddiness at seeing Mando again seemed to want to take over her. The pair didn’t have long to catch up because Greef had spotted them from across the room where he had been schmoozing with another Guild member, and was already heading their way. 

“Mando! Nice of you to join us,” he bellowed out as he reached their table. He motioned for Mando to make room, and he grunted but obliged, scooting around the bend of the seat, closer to Alya’s end of the booth. She had to silently steady herself, and tucked her legs in closer to herself, trying her hardest to not let them touch his legs in any way. Had she genuinely lost that much control that this was what she’d come to? She wanted to kick herself hard.

“What’ve you got?” Greef asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. Mando produced several bounty pucks that he’d successfully brought in with him, and set the one they had worked on together separately on the table. 

“Split bounty,” he said, motioning over to Alya. 

“Again? My, my, this is interesting…” Greef said, pulling all the bounty pucks closer to him, a sly smile plastered on his face. 

“Owed her a favor,” Mando said quickly. Alya thought she noticed Greef exchanging an odd, knowing look with Mando, but she picked at her food and tried to ignore it before her mind could start reading into it.

“We’ll get those bounties unloaded, and as promised, your credits” Greef said, pulling out their payment, sliding Alya’s share over to her. He motioned to one of his henchmen to begin unloading Mando’s ship. Greef then began going on about new bounty pucks he had ready to give over to Mando, when Mando interrupted him by putting a gloved hand up into the air.

“Let’s talk business later, we’ve got some catching up to do,” he said to Greef before looking over at Alya. The look of absolute intrigue on Greef’s face about her and Mando’s relationship before he excused himself from their table amused Alya to no end. For someone who so often craved as little attention as possible, she was finding she didn’t mind this at all. 

Once Greef had walked away, Mando still hadn’t moved from his spot close to her in the booth, even though there was plenty of space to spread out now. Alya felt her heart start thundering at how close he was now that they were alone as she felt the heat of his massive body radiating off of him threaten to make her head spin. She forced herself to finish her lunch and hoped that he couldn’t read any of it in her expression.

“Let’s go,” he said quietly, placing a hand on her leg briefly before pulling it away just as quickly. Her heart stopped for a second, she swore it did - she took a quick steadying breath and looked over at him.

“Let’s,” she said simply, getting up from the table as he slid out of the booth behind her. They continued out of the cantina with plenty of eyes in the room on them again. Alya had just smiled and began animatedly chatting with Mando as they crossed the room, giving the people a show. 

Once they were out on the bright, sunny street Mando asked if they’d like to walk for a bit. There were vendors on either side of the street calling out to try and sell their different array of goods and hot food. She took in all the familiar smells and sights she’d grown fond of on Nevarro among her many visits here for Guild business. Alya asked Mando how his latest bounty had gone in the few days they were apart as they ambled along, and he talked more than she thought she had ever heard him before. He even explained in more detail the tech that he had inside his Mandalorian helmet that allowed him to track footsteps and even use a body heat radar through buildings. She felt a small pang of jealousy at the advantage it gave Mando out on the job. 

“There was… one problem,” he said sheepishly after recounting his recent adventures.

“Does this have anything to do with why you were late and left me here all by my poor, sad, lonesome self?” she teased, emphasizing the last words with a mocking sadness. Alya didn’t know if she was just learning to read into the way his helmet tilted towards her, but she could have sworn the way he turned his head to look at her indicated an eye roll this time.

“You’re so brave…” he said, deadpan. “Couldn’t even go without me for four days, huh?”

Alya shoved him with her shoulder as they walked, but it did nothing. She practically bounced off his wall of armor and muscles that she knew were underneath.

“Ok, tell me then. What happened to set you back?”

“I had some issues with my ship. Got some damage that I was able to repair just enough to get me here, but it’s going to need some more work before I can be sure it’ll make it out of the atmosphere again.”

Alya grimaced in sympathy at knowing the feeling of being stuck somewhere because of repairs. “Well, if you need a ride somewhere, you know where to find me,” she told him.

“What, and steal half the earnings on all my bounties?”

“I’m serious!” she shoved him again to the same result. “If the repairs are going to take a while we can pick up a couple of our bounties, no splitting necessary. I’ve got mine and you’ve got yours.”

“Let me at least help pay you back for fuel,” Mando said practically.

“Wait, so you’re in? It was that easy to whisk you away across the galaxy with me, huh?”

“Don’t get too excited, freckles, I’m only using you for your ship,” he chuckled.

She smacked him hard on the arm, laughing. She felt a simultaneous peace and unrest within her, the feelings warring each other constantly when they had moments like this together. Like this was exactly where she was supposed to be but her mind was also screaming at her to run in the opposite direction. How could one person make her feel so safe and yet so scared at the same time?

-

Alya decided to make her way back to the cantina that evening after Mando vaguely said he had some things to take care of, and that they could meet back up later. She needed several drinks after the last few weeks of emotional disruption. Her life had been going on one track for so long, and then Canto Bright happened. Mando had walked into her life with no intentions, no motive, but she already wasn’t sure she could understand the concept of living without him now. At the very least, she had maybe her first real friend in a long time - someone that genuinely cared, wanted to be around her. The idea was still taking some getting used to.

She eased into a stool at the bar, ordering a spiced cider. This was always one of her favorite drinks, but it posed a dangerous game of trying not to drink too many. She passed the time people watching while she was deep in thought, trying to keep a broody presence to avoid any unwanted conversations with the fellow cantina-goers. Most of them were too busy with their own fun - drinking games, cards, general shenanigans among friends and allies. Alya watched them with almost a hint of envy coming up, before she reminded herself that she had chosen the way she lived for a reason and avoided most people because of that. 

She’d lost track of how many drinks she’d already had when a male Klatoonian attempted to swagger up to the bar next to her. She blinked heavily a few times, coming out of her tipsy introspection.

“What’s got you looking so down like that sweetheart, eh?” he said to her. She had seen this dozens of times - the drunk, lustful look in someone’s eyes as they approached her. Only a small handful of times had it actually worked on her, and never for more than one night.

Alya sighed deeply and rolled her eyes, looking over at him and tilting her head to the side. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“What, has your little boyfriend you’ve been hanging around with disappeared on you? I think I know just how to make you feel better.” He moved closer to her as he spoke, and Alya began to feel her skin pricking with irritation. He was very clearly letting his being drunk affect his behavior, but she wasn’t in the mood to let anyone off easy tonight.

“When I tell you to fuck off or you’ll regret it, I mean it,” she growled, narrowing her gaze at him. He looked completely undeterred, still continuing to slowly close the gap between them.

“Now don’t be like that sweetheart. I can show you what you’ve been missing out on,” he slurred out, reaching his arm around towards the small of her back. Alya, even in her drunk state, whirled around quickly and grabbed the Klatoonian’s arm in one swift movement. She twisted his arm around and slammed it onto the bartop.

“Leave me alone or I’ll break your fucking arm. I told you I meant it,” she said, low and biting, gritting her teeth and narrowing her eyes at him even further. The Klatoonian cried out, sobering up quickly and whimpering in pain at the unnatural direction his arm was now in.

“Is there a problem here?” a familiar, modulated voice came from behind Alya. She saw her irritating new acquaintance looking up behind her at Mando with fear in his eyes.

“No, no, no… I was just -“ the Klatoonian cried out as Alya moved his arm the slightest bit more in the wrong direction. “Just leaving, please…” he panted through clenched teeth.

“Seems like you’ve got things under control here,” Mando said coolly, using the same sharp, detached tone she’d heard him use on their quarries. He put a reassuring hand on Alya’s shoulder as he now stood in between her and the Klatoonian. She finally released him as she grinned almost sinisterly at Mando, and Mando then gripped the back of the Klatoonian’s shirt and shoved him aside. He went quickly, rubbing his arm and scrambling dejectedly out the door as he threw curses under his breath at both her and Mando.

Alya blew out a breath and sank back into her chair slightly. “I’m drunk,” she said, looking up at him now with a pouty expression. It amazed even her how quickly she had gone from ruthless killer to this soft persona in front of Mando the minute the threat was gone. Mando laughed slightly and put his arm around Alya, attempting to pull her from where she was seated. 

“And getting into bar fights. I’ll take you to your room, come on,” he said gently, nudging her in the direction of the door as she leaned against him, swaying gently with each step. She blinked heavily, her vision still feeling fuzzy from having to stand up so suddenly.

“Mmmmmm,” Alya protested, leaning further into him and dragging her feet as they walked. She could feel the strength of Mando’s arms pulling her out into the street, heading next door to the inn. She decided to stop resisting his help and lean into him, feeling more of his body against hers and truly noticing his scent for the first time now that she was closer to his neck - Maker, he smelled good - somehow musky and warm, but clean and fresh at the same time.

“Which room?” he asked, leading them through the doors of the inn and up the stairs.

“Uhh,” she pondered, searching her tipsy brain for the information. “Four.” She pulled the key card out of her pocket and held it in front of them. Mando snatched it out of her hand quickly and gracefully with the speed of the trained fighter she knew he was.

They were approaching the door to her room, and Alya had this nagging feeling inside her chest that had been growing since she realized that her new… whatever Mando was to her, hadn’t even gotten her name when they met or in any of their encounters since then. 

Maybe part of the Mandalorian culture had to do with not sharing names, she wondered to herself, as he had never said his name and everyone in the Guild had seemed to call him Mando as well. Maybe that was why he hadn’t asked for hers, she thought, that would make sense if names weren’t important to him. This overwhelming feeling of wanting to share herself with him had been growing for too long, and her thoughts had completely snowballed during her drunk ruminations tonight. She knew she was too tipsy to be able to hold back from saying it now.

“Alya,” she said quietly into their silence as they almost reached her room’s door. 

“Hmm?” Mando replied, leaning in a bit closer to hear her better.

“I know you didn’t ask, I realize you didn’t… and maybe you don’t care to know, but I needed you to know. My name… it’s Alya.”

“I know,” Mando murmured softly to her. 

Alya sharply turned her head towards him, feeling a bit of her buzz wear off suddenly. “What?”

“When I turned our first bounty in, I realized I had no idea who you were. I made Greef help me figure it out, so we could get you your credits. And so that I could just… know who the girl was that I’d been thinking about non-stop.”

She stopped, pulling herself out from under his arm and turning towards him, stunned for a moment. She bored her eyes into his helmet and said, “So that’s what was with that look he gave you today. You’ve known all this time, and didn’t say anything?!”

“I thought you’d tell me if you wanted me to know,” he shrugged slightly, nonchalant.

“Well, I do. Want you to know.” Her frustration with him subsided quickly as she realized he was just trying to let her get here on her own terms and not his.

“I can’t…” he started, taking a moment to think of how to finish his sentence, “share mine with you because of my creed. I don’t know if that changes things, or you’re disappointed, but…” he trailed off, sounding unsure of himself.

“This is the way,” she said, giving him a supportive smile as she called back the Mandalorian phrase she had learned.

“Thank you, Alya,” he said with an emphasis on her name, and she could hear the slight smile in his voice. She felt a sudden, overwhelming sleepiness from the alcohol and adrenaline comedown washing over her and she swayed a bit, still looking up at him with tired eyes, not wanting to close them for fear of him disappearing again.

He put his hands on her shoulders and moved her out of the way just enough to unlock the door and open it for her. He handed her back the key and she took it, lingering her hand on his for an extra moment. 

“Come inside… just for a little bit. Please?” She slurred slightly, their fingers still grazing each other.

Mando stiffened and didn’t move from his spot in the doorway. He looked like he was fighting some internal conflict on how to respond as Alya tugged on his hand gently, urging him silently.

“No… no distractions. You’re right. My tipsy brain just forgot,” Alya said, tapping the side of her head after Mando still hadn’t moved a moment later. 

“Just for a bit,” he finally decided, walking into the small but cozy room with her and shutting the door behind them. Alya was clearly fighting sleep as she sat on the edge of the bed and began taking her boots off.

“Off to bed with you, troublemaker. I’ll be here for a little while to make sure you’re okay,” he said, standing nearby and watching her finally get her shoes off and prop herself up on the bed. 

“M’ Always okay when you’re here,” Alya said sleepily, already laid back with her eyes closed. She started drifting off, and if Mando said anything more, she didn’t hear it. 

Several hours later Alya stirred awake, sitting up and blinking a few times to try to adjust to the darkness. She slowly remembered the events of the evening and scanned the room for Mando, assuming he had most likely left after she had fallen asleep. She immediately saw a dark, shadowed figure sitting in the sole chair across the room. He had stayed, she thought, feeling a warmth fill her heart at seeing him still there with her. 

She quietly got out of the bed and padded over to the chair where Mando slept. His head was lolled back, resting on the back of the chair, his hand near the blaster that was next to him. She noticed that most of his armor aside from his helmet had been taken off and put into a neat pile on the floor next to the chair, likely to make sleeping like this more comfortable. She was touched that he had felt safe enough with her to do that, knowing it was most likely not a decision he took lightly. Alya saw that his shoes were still on, and she kneeled in front of him before gently pulling his leg forward to try and take his boots off. He startled even quicker than Alya expected, but before he could get his bearings and likely blast her face off out of pure instinct, she called out in a harsh whisper. 

“It’s me! It’s me, I’m just helping you get to bed,” she stopped touching his shoe, holding her hands out in front of her.

He let out a few heavy breaths with relief, sitting up a bit more to get a better look at her.

“No, no, I’m okay sleeping here,“ he mumbled through the modulator, his voice sounding hoarse with sleep. 

“C’mon, I won’t bite. I just want you to be comfortable and sleep in a real bed for once - it’s seriously amazing,”  Alya replied. She tugged on his other leg to try and finish taking off his shoes, and to her surprise, he let her. She reached for his hands, attempting to pull him up out of the chair. Damn, he was heavy and she was still way too tired, making her attempt a complete failure. She stubbornly tugged a few more times, and Mando finally gave in, letting her walk him over to the bed although he grumbled most of the way. She gave him a weak, playful shove before he plopped down on the bed and laid back, sighing quietly at the comfort of the mattress after sitting in the chair for hours. 

“Now isn’t that better?” she teased him as she went to the other side of the bed and crawled in. 

She laid down next to him and pulled the sheets back over herself, settling back into the warmth she had left in the bed from a few moments ago. She was lying on her side, facing Mando who was laying stiffly on his back. She could feel tension radiating off of him as he laid unnaturally still, even for a trained fighter, seeming unsure of how to react to being next to her in the bed. Alya admitted to herself that she was feeling the same unease as it filled the space between them. She didn’t know how to handle it, these feelings she had for him. No matter what she tried to trick her brain into thinking, or how much she tried not to care…she did. 

Mando seemed to make up his mind, and he slowly turned his head and inclined his body towards her, reaching over his gloved hand to gently cup her face and stroke it with his thumb. The feel of his touch ignited flames in Alya’s core, and she never wanted him to stop touching her like this now that he had started.

“Such a thoughtful girl, freckles,” he said, a low, suggestive drowsiness still filling his voice. She gave him a soft smile and reached over, placing her hand on the arm that was reaching towards her. She allowed her fingers to lazily brush up his arm, finally reaching close enough to his chest that she dared to begin running her hand down the fabric of his shirt. She heard Mando’s breathing interrupted with a soft sigh at her sudden touch on this new spot, barely loud enough for her to hear through his helmet. He let out a shudder, his body instinctively leaning closer to hers.

“Alya,” he breathed out as her hand reached the top of his pants, her fingers gently threatening to dip below his waistband.

“I can stop distracting you anytime, just say the word,” she said quietly, pausing her roaming hand for a moment to allow him to answer. Her heart thundered in her chest, knowing this was breaking all the rules they’d set for themselves, but she didn’t care, couldn’t care, when it felt so right with him.

“Please…” he said, almost begging. He took a shaky breath before saying, “Don’t stop. You could never stop distracting me.”

At his confirmation, she began working to undo the belt around his waist, taking her sweet time, knowing it would drive him a little bit crazy. She lightly brushed her hands over his crotch a few times and could feel he was already hard, his desire pressing against his pants. She unzipped them and slid her hand in, feeling him in full now as she wrapped her hand around his generous cock. He groaned at her first touch and arched his hips up a little bit into her hand. She stroked him gently at first, his breathing becoming more unsteady as she slid her hand up and down his member and traced her fingers around the head. Mando was squirming under her touch as she continued to caress him, getting harder by the second - she felt heat between her own legs beginning to build at seeing the effect she was able to have on him.

“Feels so good,” he panted, unable to use full sentences. “Need more of you.”

Alya quickly removed her hand, getting an immediate look of protest from Mando. She pulled his pants down enough to pull his cock out, and he watched intently as she brought her hand up to her mouth and licked it, covering it with saliva before bringing it back down to his throbbing desire. His groans of pleasure rumbled out as she continued to move her hand up and down along his cock in more rapid movements now. His hands went between gripping the sheets, grabbing her arm, and then landing on sliding his hand into the hair on the back of her head and pulling on it when he felt another wave of pleasure come over him. 

“Just like that, you know what I need, beautiful girl,” he purred, his hips continuing to writhe under her hand.

He was absolutely throbbing, Alya could feel under her hand - she knew he was close. She wanted to completely send him over the edge, give him the pleasure he’d given her once before. She quickly moved off her side and crawled over to straddle the lower part of his legs. She effortlessly swapped out her hand for her lips and took just the head of his cock into her mouth. The moan that came out of Mando’s modulator at this sudden change practically had Alya cumming herself. Hearing him at her mercy, giving himself over to her like this had turned her on more than she expected. 

She teased him, licking at the shaft, sucking and flicking her tongue along it. Mando was going absolutely wild at the change in intensity, desperate for more from her as his body began to shake slightly underneath her. He whimpered quietly just before she finally took his cock fully into her mouth and began to slide her lips over him. She bobbed her head more rapidly, and he lifted his hips off the bed, practically fucking her face at this point, quick panting breaths coming out through the modulator. His hands tangled in her hair, pulling a little more roughly this time.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Mando said quickly just before releasing into her mouth. She continued sliding her mouth over him, letting him ride out the orgasm into her throat as he spilled himself into her. She felt his body finally relax under her as she pulled her lips off. He lifted his head up slightly to look down at her still straddling his legs, and she seductively bit her lip as she returned his gaze and swallowed.

“Now isn’t that a sight…” Mando drawled, clearly not taking his eyes off of her. He placed his hands on her hips for a few moments, anchoring her to where she straddled his legs and just looked. He finally released his grip, and Alya swung her leg over and rolled onto the bed next to him. They settled into a comfortable silence with Alya resting her head on Mando’s shoulder with a hand on his chest. She felt his breath rising and falling underneath it, threatening to lull her back to sleep. His arm wrapped around over top of them, holding her close to him.

“I have a follow up question,” Mando said a short while later. 

“A follow up question to what just happened?” She laughed sleepily. “Yes okay, it is the biggest one I’ve ever seen.”

“Very funny,” he said, deadpan. “No, about your name.”

“Oh,” she said, sobering up a bit. “Yeah, uh, sure,”

“I just wanted to know if I could, er, have your surname, too.” Alya was touched by the shy, awkward way he approached it, as if he had been nervous and debating on even asking her.

“Kesyk,” she said simply. 

“Alya Kesyk,” he said, trying on the words for the first time.

“I have to admit I stole it. Well, kind of. So I can’t take any credit for being born with it.”

“Stole it?”

“It was a close friend of mine, Myra. More than that, she was my… mentor, I guess. When I started doing this kind of work, I was young - really young. I didn’t have anybody, and then she showed up and took me in. She was a bounty hunter, and a damn good one - she showed me everything she knew. When she died I still wasn’t using a surname, so I thought it was a good way to honor her, and it stuck all these years. Now she’s just… a part of me?” Alya smiled gently, the melancholy feeling of memories with Myra washing over her. 

“I think it’s perfect for you,” Mando said, pausing for a breath before tentatively grabbing her hand and adding, “I’m sorry about your loss.”

“Thank you,” she squeezed his hand back in appreciation.

They laid in comfortable silence, Alya reveling in feeling his breathing and warm body next to hers. She felt waves of sleepiness coming over her, feeling so safe in Mando’s arms, and she started closing her heavy eyes until Mando spoke suddenly into the darkness. “What was that you said about the biggest one you’ve ever seen?”

“Shut up,” she scolded him as she laughed tiredly, swatting at his arm, then settling into his shoulder further to try and sleep. His warm laugh through the modulator was the last thing she heard before drifting off.

-

The next morning, Alya woke to the dim light streaming into the room. The events of the previous night came back to her quickly and she sat up, looking around the room for Mando. Her heart sank - she was alone. She quickly put on her shoes and scrambled out the door, a panic rising in her chest. Had he been upset about what they did and already left Nevarro? If that was true, she felt like an idiot for sharing what she did about her past with him last night.

She practically ran to the landing bay where she knew his ship would be parked, searching around. It took her a solid fifteen minutes of jogging around wildly between all the ships of other Guild members and visitors to finally see his Razor Crest in the distance. She spotted that the hull of his ship was wide open, but she couldn’t see him yet. At least he was still here, she thought, relief flowing through her. As she approached, he came out of the ship, and he stopped, seeming surprised to see her.

“There you are,” she panted, stopping about a foot from where he stood in front of his ship. “I was worried you… nevermind.” She knew she had to look like a sweaty mess - she hadn’t even bothered to look in the mirror this morning before rushing out to make sure he didn't disappear on her. She felt somewhat pathetic about all of that seeing that he was unbothered, just standing here so casually as she quickly tried smoothing her hair and adjusting her clothes. 

“I’m sorry, I had a few things to check on and I didn’t want to wake you,” he said, matter of factly. “I didn’t mean to worry you…”

In the light of day, things felt almost uncomfortable between them, Alya thought. After their initial meeting on Canto Bright, they could chalk it up to a moment of passion between two strangers - easy to ignore, easy to not read into. But now… she wasn’t sure a second time could be written off so easily. They had come to an agreement together, and she felt that she had broken it, pushed him into breaking it.

“About last night… I didn’t… I know we said that we shouldn’t be… It was just a dumb, spur of the moment thing. I was caught up in the moment, and I’m sorry,” Alya said, still trying to catch her breath. She knew she was lying through her teeth, but she didn’t want Mando to think that she wasn’t taking their agreement on their relationship seriously.

“It’s not like I stopped you, so we’re both to blame here,” Mando said with a tone that Alya found unreadable, which only served to increase her anxiety.

“I know, I just -“ she started, but Mando held his hand out to stop her.

“I’m serious. There’s nothing to be sorry for. Let’s just say we’re… even after last night.” Mando took a reassuring step towards her. 

“Even?” Alya replied, amused. “Okay, fine then. Should we just forget it happened? Or…” she asked, trying to sound casual, even though it was the last thing she wanted. She wasn’t even sure what she wanted, and she hated not feeling and sounding confident around Mando right now. All she knew was that she had felt completely turned upside down since the first night they had met. She didn’t know how to do this - have a real relationship with someone, care about someone like this. She just wanted to avoid it all and go back to the numb feeling she had before she met Mando. It was far more preferable to the desperate, clawing fear of losing him, or worse, giving herself over to him completely. 

Mando had taken a few beats before answering her. “Is that really what you think we should do?” His voice sounded tight, almost hurt, sending a pang through Alya’s already conflicted heart. 

Alya swallowed hard and breathed out a sigh. “It’s just… too complicated, right? I don’t really know how to do this, I don’t know how to be-“ How to be what? She thought to herself, unable to even buy into the words coming out of her own mouth “It would be better for both of us, I think. Don’t you?”

“I… don’t know. Yeah, maybe it would.”

“So… Can we be friends?”

“Friends.”

Alya held out her hand and Mando shook it. Alya’s heart was in her stomach by this point, and knowing that she had done this to herself made it even worse. I’m terrified, she wanted to scream instead, of letting you down, of loving you, of letting someone love me. She blinked, trying to will away the sadness she could feel was showing in her eyes as she smiled up at him. 

“Can I tell you something?” Alya asked him, looking down at her feet.

“I’m listening.” Mando tilted his head slightly. 

“I can’t remember the last time I had a real friend,” she said sheepishly.

Mando processed her comment for a moment, thinking. “I’m not sure I can either.” 

“Not surprising,” she pressed her lips together as she looked back up at him, trying not to crack a smile through her sadness.

Mando grunted and crossed his arms defiantly. “I could say the same thing about you, you know.”

“Excuse me, but I am charming as hell,” Alya said, placing her hands on her hips.

“Oh, I know. Charming, but nobody can touch you with a ten foot pole,” he retorted.

“Well, except…” she started, then reminded herself quickly of the arrangement they’d just made with each other - she had to stop flirting with him. “Nevermind.”

She thought she heard a small chuckle from Mando as he seemed to understand the sentiment of what she was going to say. 

“So, it turns out they had the parts needed for my ship, so it was a quick turnaround,”  Mando blurted out, changing the subject. Alya blinked hard, trying to let her brain catch up with the sudden change in their plans together. She didn’t think it was possible, but Alya felt her heart sink further. 

“Oh… that’s great. Less hassle than expected.” She tried to sound upbeat but knew she was failing miserably. 

“I was thinking of taking off today, I’m all set up with my next few jobs.” He shifted uncomfortably, clearly not sure how she was going to take this news. 

She nodded quickly. “Yeah, yeah, same here. I should get back out there.”

“Would've been fun to get whisked off around the galaxy though, as you put it yesterday,” he said, a slight smiling quality filling the modulated voice. That was it - Alya’s heart was cracked, and she didn’t know how to stop it, stop this, stop him from leaving without her. And she also didn’t know how to stay. Nobody had ever stayed.

She forced a shaky smile, feeling tears wanting to begin prickling behind her eyes. “Maybe someday,” she promised.

“Take care of yourself, freckles,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and squeezing them. She felt the safety of his strong hands come and go, leaving a tingling sensation behind on her skin that she hoped wouldn’t fade away too quickly.

All she could do without allowing tears to come was nod as if to wish him the same and quickly turn on her heel and briskly begin the walk back to her ship. As soon as she knew she was far enough out of view, the tears began to fall. Before she realized it, they were starting to pour down her face, letting out all the absolute heartache she had inside of her. She rushed into her ship and sank to the floor as soon as she was inside, heaving breaths coming out of her.

She tried to convince herself through her tears that she didn’t know Mando that well, that this was nothing, he was just the first person to show any interest towards her in a long time. None of it worked - she knew it was all bullshit, and that now they both were hurting because of her shortcomings, her inability to let herself have this. How could he forgive her for denying them the beautiful thing that seemed to grow between them every time they were together?

Alya finally decided after her sobs slowly tapered off that enough was enough - she could move on, had to move on. They had agreed to have each other’s back and remain amicable, and that had to suffice for her. She might be able to keep that promise, she thought to herself as she started pulling her ship out of the landing bay, if she could stay the hell away from him.

#looooved writing this chapter their flirty energy is too much for me!!!! #signs of a lifetime #fanfic #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin x oc #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc #mando x reader #mando x oc #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut

[handspunyarns]

You Were Marked: Days Sixteen to Nineteen, Part I

pairing: din djarin x fem!O/C   

word count: 4.4K  

chapter summary: Fennec feels worn out, Din feels hungover, and Marathel doesn’t know how to feel 

warnings:  fluff, angst, mention of blood and injury, rape aftermath, English and Mando’a cursing   

***Please feel free to comment, kvetch, or otherwise speak your mind about my work. ***     

You Were Marked: Masterlist   

<- You Were Marked: Previous Chapter 

Fennec was very, very tired.  She hadn’t had a full night’s sleep since meeting this Marathel woman, who currently lay tranquilized on the cot before her.  Marathel, who tried so hard to make herself as unobtrusive as possible, had instead sent the palace into an uproar.  The silver-haired woman collected champions everywhere she went.  Silnima was ready to adopt her as well as make her chief baker, if Marathel wished.  Din Djarin was obviously completely in the most stupid variety of love with her, and right behind the Mandalorian, Cobb Vanth was hurriedly catching up in the adoration race.  Boba had admitted to her that even he found her charming, and he was ready to jump into any fray to protect her, like an old mobster uncle would protect his favorite niece.   

It might have been more amusing if Marathel was actually manipulative.  Marathel was not.  She was in fact so simple she was straight.  She had no guile, no artifice whatsoever.  Cobb had mentioned to Fennec that he thought of her as a full-grown child who had dropped from the sky, an apt description if there ever was one.  Everything was black and white in Marathel’s world.  She had a child’s sensibility, a child’s gullibility, almost to the point where Fennec wondered if the woman even had object permanence. 

Fennec had just witnessed another emotional breakdown from Marathel, the reasons for which were still unknown to Fennec.  Marathel had been lying quietly, appearing to be deep in thought, before she suddenly began to weep, and had become hysterical enough to require intervention from the medi-droid.  Obviously — at least to Fennec — it was all somehow the Mandalorian’s fault.  The fact that Din had both cleared the room and turned the lights off led Fennec to believe that he had: one, removed his helmet, and two, most likely kissed her, and three, probably told her he loved her.  Both apparently had trouble with complex emotions, but at least Din should know better than to run in, declare his love like a soldier heading off to war, and run out as if a Hoth blizzard were approaching.  At least give the woman a chance to reply, thought Fennec.  After Din had left — having given her a handful of the Aurodium coins — Fennec had turned the lights back on in the med-bay to see a flushed and bewildered Marathel, sitting up on her elbow, her hand to her mouth, and tears in her eyes as the sounds of Grogu screaming “MAMA!” reverberated through the ship.   

Then the ship began take-off, which shifted Marathel from bewilderment to panic until the ship ceased quaking and began to fly smoothly.  Marathel had then commented that the persistent engine noise was somehow soothing to her, and she began to relax enough to rest.   

It was shortly after this that Marathel’s latest crying jag occurred, and Fennec was nearly out of patience.  After Marathel was tranquilized, Fennec left the med-bay in search of the Modifier, who was in the cockpit with the pilot.  The pilot looked like the average mercenary: faceless, nameless, and uninterested in the cargo. 

“Is the commotion all over?” asked the Modifier. 

“It’s never over with that woman,” mumbled Fennec.   

“Something new offended her delicate sensibilities?” Fennec sighed, and reminded herself that Marathel was doing her level best to cope.  Then the Modifier asked, “Did the Mandalorian provide payment?”  Fennec flicked her eyes to the back of the pilot’s head.  The Modifier nodded.  Some things were never discussed in front of a mercenary, regardless of how inconspicuous they were. 

Din awoke in Marathel’s bed alone, curled up on his side, his mouth feeling as if he’d chewed on a Jawa all night.  His nose was stuffed up, his neck was sore, and although his visor kept out the blinding light of the two suns, his eye sockets were throbbing with the dehydration headache.  He felt around him, looking for Grogu, for Cobb, or even the Jawa he believed he was chewing on.  But he was alone, and the door to Marathel’s room was shut tight.   Din scooted over to the edge of the bed to peer at the side table, which held a large, beautiful pitcher of glorious looking water, several hydration powder packets, and a glass. 

Silently thanking Silnima, Cobb, Frith, whomever had left him this morning-after gift, Din drank the entire pitcher along with all the hydration powder, took a runner-beast-sized piss, and had a quick hot shower to cook out the remainder of the booze from his pores.   

Feeling human again, he straightened up Marathel’s bed, smoothing the sheet over her pillow.  He sat in her padded chair to pull on his boots when he noticed items on her large treatment table that had not been there yesterday: a large, waxed bag that looked as if it contained sweets, three large hanks of yarn, a big ball of near-white fluffy wool, knitting needles, and two jars of dark honey.  Set off to one side of these items was a new pair of shoes.  The shoes were an ankle-high slip-on style in a deep grey leather, flat-heeled, simple, and very appropriate for someone like Marathel.  There was a tiny scuff on the outside of one of the shoes, a few grains of sand on the inside of the other.  Din had a fleeting desire to smell the inside of her shoe.  That’s weird, right?  Yeah, that’s just weird.  I’m still drunk.  Din stood, making sure his bandolier was properly buckled, and his blasters were properly positioned on his hips.  He lifted his helmet and held it above his head to put it on when his eyes fell on Marathel’s shoes again.  He dropped his helmet into one arm, grabbed Marathel’s left shoe and took a deep whiff.   

Well, that was disappointing.  All he could smell was new leather.  With a laugh, Din put down her shoe, wondering if he would have preferred her feet to smell badly or not. He put on his helmet and opened the door.  Cobb was leaning against the opposite wall, drinking from a mug of caf. 

“How are you feeling, friend?” asked Cobb. 

“Better now.  Thank you for the water.” 

“That wasn’t me,” said Cobb with a shrug.   “I just supplied the hydration packets.” 

Din looked up and down the corridor.  “Where’s Grogu?” 

“With the other palace kids.” 

“How did he seem?” 

Cobb shrugged again.  “Subdued.”  He smiled wryly.  “He ended up between us, and we had positioned ourselves like a little fort around him.  Our arms made the roof.”  He raised his eyes to Din’s visor.  “It was quite nice. It felt good.  Made me a … little jealous of Marathel.”  Cobb went silent for a few moments, and then he took a drink from his caf.  “Look, I gotta head back to Freetown.  I trust the new deputy only so far, and I really have no reason to hang around if I can’t get my arm worked on.” 

Din remained silent.  Both men stood still for a while before Din reached out to take Cobb’s arm.  Pulling himself close to Cobb, Din whispered, “You’d leave me?” 

Cobb’s eyes went wide, but after a moment’s thought, he squinted his eyes and said, “You’re pullin’ my chain.” 

“Mostly,” said Din.  “I need to go find buyers for the Aurodium, and I need a distraction for Grogu.”  Din’s hand went to Cobb’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze.  “Come with us.” 

“Uh … no.  I’m not stepping off this planet.  Jumping around the vacuum of space in a tiny metal box is my personal vision of hell.  Not even you can change my mind.”  Cobb lifted Din’s hand from his shoulder and held it.  “But give me updates on Marathel.  And … consider her staying here for a while when she’s better.”  Closer to me.  “The palace is a controlled environment for her.  Out there … I think it’s hard for her to feel safe.” Cobb dropped Din’s hand.  “She was scared of a Trandoshan she saw in Mos Espa.” 

“She should at least be cautious.  They’re assholes.”  Din nodded.  “You’re right, though.  Here at the palace Marathel would have only a limited number of people to contend with.  She’d be safe, even if I’m not here.  And Silnima can help her have a purpose.  Marathel is not one to be idle.” 

Cobb grinned. “And she now knows where to buy yarn.” 

Under the helmet Din was smiling too.  “Thanks to you.”  He leaned forward and hugged Cobb, hard.   

Cobb squeezed back, and in Din’s ear, he whispered, “Love her.”  Din drew back.  “What?” 

Din shook his head.  “That’s what … the Dahl told me.  Rodanthe.  I figured … I imagined it.  That she’d growled and my brain turned it into words.  But she hadn’t made a sound.” 

Cobb tilted his head.  “That was something you mentioned last night.” 

“I did?”  Din reached under his cuirass and scratched the bite mark; it was suddenly itchy. “I guess it wasn’t a dream after all.” 

“You don’t think it’s strange?”  asked Cobb.  “That this —Rodanthe critter ‘talks’ to you and then the next day Marathel can seemingly control you?” 

Din scoffed.  “The whole damn thing is strange.  A woman can bond with an animal on a biological – chemical – neurological manner to the point where she allegedly loses physical control and goes into a heat cycle?  And drags me into it as well?”  Din looked up and down the hall.  Seeing no one, Din leaned in towards Cobb.  “She could barely look at me at first, and the next thing I know, she’s wrapping her legs around me and climbing me like a damn tree.” 

“And I’m sure you fought that little wildcat as long as you could,” Cobb said with a smirk, but then he sobered.  “You can’t think she’s been manipulating you.” 

“I know she’s not telling me everything.”  Din scratched the bite wound again.  “I know she’s lied to me.  I probably … shouldn’t have told her I love her yesterday.” 

Cobb rolled his eyes.  “Someone’s got morning-after guilt,” he said with a sigh.  “Look.  You need to fence those coins.  She needs to get better.  Then you two must seriously talk.  And I recommend not starting with, ‘Marry me’. Or whatever it is you Mandalorians do.” 

“Oh? What should I start with?” 

“I suggest you tell her about the land mine to your sack.  That should give you two a lot to talk about.” Cobb shifted sideways. “We should both get going, you know.”  The two men clasped each other’s hands, and Cobb began to walk towards the landing tunnel, whistling.  After about 5 meters or so, Cobb turned and said, “Man, you didn’t even tell me about the land mine.  That’s classic.”  Din shot him the finger, and Cobb walked off, laughing. 

After Cobb had left, Din heard the pounding of feet and happy shrieks of children coming from the opposite direction.  He turned, and a whole passel of kids were running full tilt straight for him; one of the taller girls was carrying Grogu on her shoulders.  Upon seeing Din, Grogu squealed and leapt from the girl’s shoulders to Din’s arms, doing a forward flip in mid-air.  The other children cheered; the noise went right through Din’s helmet and exploded somewhere behind his hung-over eyeballs.  One of the boys yelled, “Let’s get something to eat!”, leading the other kids to run to the kitchen.   

Grogu bounced on Din’s arm, chanting, “Mama? Mama?  Mama?” while slapping Din’s cuirass with his little hand.   

Din took hold of Grogu’s hand, shaking his head.  “We haven’t heard anything yet, little guy.” 

Grogu scowled and jerked his hand away.  “MAMA!”  

“I want to know how she is just as much as you do, buddy, but … Mama needs to go far away for a little while.  She needs special doctors who can help her.  Special … secret doctors.” 

Grogu grunted, his face in a deep frown.  “See-kit.” 

“See-kit, that’s right,” said Din, a flush of pride going through him at Grogu saying another word.  That’s my boy.  Din held Grogu close, pressing his helmet to the little green fuzzy head.  “What say we go fly while we wait?” 

“Fy!” 

“Wizard.  Let’s go.” 

Fennec got a message from the medi-droid that Marathel was waking up.  She got into the room just in time to see Marathel roll to her side, rubbing her eyes.  Fennec sat back down on the stool next to the cot.  “Doing better?”  Marathel still looked distressed, but she nodded.  “Can you tell me what upset you so much?” 

Marathel swallowed and closed her eyes.  “He lied to me.  The Bounty Hunter.” 

We’re back to calling him Bounty Hunter.  Dank ferrik.  “What did he lie to you about?” 

“The Bounty Hunter still had the coins.  He was … he was supposed to give them to his covert, but he still had them!” 

Fennec sighed inwardly.  “He gave me some of the coins to pay for your treatment, wherever it is we’re going.” 

“But he’s not supposed to still have them!  Why would he lie to me about what he was going to do? “ 

Maker, save me.  “Marathel … please consider that there is a perfectly logical explanation.” 

Marathel sniffled.  “Like what?” 

“Perhaps the covert wouldn’t accept them.  Those coins are … very old, and they don’t exactly work as money anymore.  Perhaps Din needs to find a buyer for the coins so he can exchange them for usable money.” 

“Then why give them to you?” 

“Well, it’s not as if we had a lot of time to figure things out.  We needed cash in hand for whomever these Reconstructionists are.  Now, please, Marathel, please try to stay calm. Try to not worry about every damn thing so much!” 

Marathel colored and looked away.  “I’m sorry,” she said, barely above a whisper.   

“Don’t be sorry.  Be calm. Be quiet, and we will all get through this,” hissed Fennec, near the end of her own rope.  

Marathel took a shaky breath.  “Yes, Fennec,” she said in such a conciliatory tone Fennec felt bad for snapping at her.  Fennec dropped her face into her hands for a while, upset herself.  Now she had these damned coins to deal with.  Either this Bishop was completely daft, or the men on that planet had no clue what those coins were worth.  When Boba had first shown them to her, Fennec insisted they first count them, just so she could feel the gold in her hands, and then they spread out the coins on the bed and … well, rolled around on them a while.  They had quite a time locating all the coins after that. 

Fennec still had no idea where they were going — the Modifier was being very tight-lipped about that — but she needed something to go on in case she needed to find buyers for the coins herself, and she was already nervous about this whole escapade going sideways. 

Fennec looked up at Marathel, who had been quiet for some time now.  Marathel’s face was as blank as fresh quarried slate.  Her eyes were unfocused, and her breathing was slow, her head slightly tilted to one side, her lips slightly parted. The slack look on her face put Fennec in the mind of someone who was mentally challenged, or in a fugue state.  Fennec shook Marathel’s arm.  “Marathel? Are you all right?” 

 Marathel’s pupils constricted, and she blinked.  “I’m fine, I’m fine, I was just … being still.” 

“That’s what you mean by be still?  You just… check out and go into a near-trance?” 

“Yes, it … it quiets the mind when they… make you do things to them.” 

“Make you do things to whom, Marathel?” 

Marathel took a shaky breath.  “The Elders … the Bishop, of course.” 

Fennec felt uneasy.  “Even before you left the Hold?” 

“Ever since I can remember,” said Marathel, matter-of-factly.  Fennec nodded.  She thought so, but it was still painful for her to have it confirmed.  No wonder Marathel was so wounded.  The poor woman’s never had a damn chance.  Fennec was wracked with guilt for her unkind thoughts about the silver-haired woman.  “Fennec?  Don’t pity me.” 

Fennec nodded again, and angrily swiped her knuckles under her eyes. “I should check your wounds.” 

“Fennec ...” said Marathel, reaching for her hand.  “My wounds are not getting worse, nor will they get better with anything you can do.  Just … sit with me, please.”  Fennec held Marathel’s hand, and in her eyes, Fennec could only see a kind of … sad tranquility that spoke of defeat. “Tell me again what I’m to say if they question me.” 

“You’re to say that you managed to escape from a Red Room; that you don’t know where you are, or how you got there.” 

“Yes, a Red Room.  I couldn’t remember.  I was thinking Dark Room.  What is a Red Room?” 

“I don’t think you need to know that, Marathel.” 

“I think I should know … I should know about what lies I need to tell.” 

Fennec sighed.  “A Red Room is where … people pay to watch and/or participate in the torture and killing of … another person.” 

Marathel furrowed her brow.  “Why in the name of Frith do things like that exist?” 

“It’s a sick, sad, galaxy.  I’d like to say it’s gotten better recently, but … not really.” 

“Is a Red Room always red?  Or is it named … because of the blood spilled there?”  Marathel sighed.  “I suppose that doesn’t matter.”  She closed her eyes for a moment.  “I miss my little hut.  Life was so simple there.  Make bread, set traps for food.  Weave if I wanted, pick flowers if I wanted, do flat-out nothing if I wanted.  Even when … Din and Grogu showed up, it was still such a lovely uncomplicated life.  Made them meals, sewed their clothes.  Made them bread.  I made more bread for those two in that short time than I would ever make for myself in three moon cycles, those greedy guts.”  Both women chuckled.  “And I got to pretend I had my own family.  We had fun, the three of us.  I even got to hear Din laugh.” 

Fennec pulled a face.  “I don’t believe that man knows how to laugh.” 

“He did!  He laughed at me; that’s why I had to throw eggs at him.”  Marathel launched into the story of the morning she wore her yellow dress and ended up in a tree because she had the temerity to scold a Jedi toddler.  By the time Marathel was demonstrating where Din’s hands had ended up on her breasts as she dropped down from the lowest branch, Fennec was near howling with laughter.  “So, I chucked an egg right at his helmet.  Splat!” 

“Oh, kriffing hell!  Then what?” 

“He said that I should be a … oh, what did he say … a storm …?” 

“A Stormtrooper?” 

“Yes!  What is that?” 

“A soldier of the most useless variety.” 

Marathel frowned.  “Should I have been insulted by that?” 

“Absolutely you should have.” 

Marathel giggled.  “Good thing I hit him with another egg and told him to piss up a rope.”  Fennec laughed.   “I stomped all the way back to my hut; I was that angry.  Later, Grogu brought me flowers, and Din brought me my favorite fruit to apologize.  No man had ever given me a gift before.”  Marathel smiled.  “The next day, Din made me breakfast.  The man made a meal for me.  Never had I considered a man would do such a thing.  We weren’t allowed to eat what we made for the men, not even the scraps from their plates.  But Din cooked for me.” 

Fennec smiled as well.  And we’re back to calling him Din.  “Men can be different when they’re from other places.” 

Marathel was silent for a while.  “I didn’t even know that there were other places until Din told me.  I didn’t believe him.  How was I supposed to understand that a tiny point of light in the sky was another big place like the one I lived on?” 

“Well, not all those points of light are planets.  There are also stars.” 

“He said that too, but I don’t know what a star is.  I don’t understand half of everything he said to me.  He probably thought I was quite dumb, which is true … I don’t know much.”  Marathel sighed.  “When he asked me to come with him, it terrified me, because I knew I would only be a burden to him.” 

“Din asked you to leave your planet with him?” 

“Yes … we had been digging clams, even though clams make him sick, but he didn’t tell me that.  I was dancing in the water with Grogu, and Din put his arm around me, held me close …  and said I should go with him and leave the Aurodium behind.” 

My, my. “But you said no.” 

“What else in Frith was I supposed to say?  I was already ruined, I’m … nothing.  I’m plain, fat, and stupid.  Sullied.  Filth.”  Marathel sobbed, tears running down her face.  She rolled over to her side and curled up in despair.  “And I knew I was going to finally die — just sooner than later — but I also knew if I could help him in some way, then … my life could have meant something to someone.  Even just for a few days, to a frightening man made of metal and his little green boy.  I love Grogu so much, Fennec.  And he’s calling me Mama.  He shouldn’t be doing that.  Not someone like me.” Marathel was weeping again, to her dismay.  She was so tired of weeping but could not stop any more than she could stop her slow loss of blood.  Fennec held Marathel’s hand and said nothing.  She had heard things like Marathel spoke of before, and no number of words to the contrary would change Marathel’s mind in her current state.  Not all fears or hurts or ugly thinking could be slayed with logic.  

After some time, when Marathel’s current storm seemed to have passed, Fennec asked, “So, what did Din say to you when he came in here?” 

Marathel sniffled and scrubbed her nose with her hand.  “Well, he turned off the lights, and then I felt something heavy drop on my lap.  It wasn’t until he was kissing me that I realized it was his helmet.” 

Fennec gave a small smile.  “So, he did kiss you.” 

Marathel’s cheeks flushed.  “Did you know how heavy those helmets are?  I thought he tossed a rock on me.” 

Fennec rolled her eyes with a chuckle.  “So, he did kiss you.” 

Marathel shyly dropped her gaze.  “Yes.” 

“And what did he say?” 

“He said …” Marathel took a breath.  “He said, ‘I love you, Marathel, ma’mwsh ha’laa, nothing else matters.’” 

“And what does ma’mwsh ha’laa mean again?” 

“‘Wounded acorn.’” 

Fennec chuckled again.  “That’s so adorable it’s almost sickening.  What was the kiss like?” 

Marathel frowned.  “Hard.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Hard.  He pressed his mouth very hard to mine.”  Marathel put her fingers to her own lips; they were almost tingling with the memory.  “But I could tell he had a mustache.  And I touched his cheek; he had facial hair, and his skin was soft.  He had told me his eyes were brown, and I saw his brown hair once, briefly … he was throwing up the clams in the tall grass, and I could just see the top of his head.” 

Fennec wasn’t about to tell her she had gotten a glimpse of him without his helmet; it probably would upset her, and Din wasn’t looking his particular best at the time, what with the concussion and the blood everywhere. “Din doesn’t sound like he’s very good at kissing.” 

“I wouldn’t know.  Kissing is only for Diwhyns and babies where I’m from.”  Marathel glanced sideways at Fennec.  “I suppose Boba is a good kisser?” 

Fennec’s head snapped up.  “Excuse me?” 

Marathel squeezed Fennec’s hand.  “Boba Fett is good to you, isn’t he?” 

It was Fennec’s turn to blush.  “I didn’t think we were that obvious.” 

“Well, I noticed.  And if I noticed, I’m sure Cobb did too.”  Fennec groaned.  “And Silnima knows too, but I don’t think anything gets past that woman.” 

“And that’s why she’s such a good Headwoman.   She would love it if you’d stay at the palace once you’re well.  She has designs on you being her chief baker.”  

Marathel curled her lip.  “I don’t know if I want to be a kitchen drudge for the rest of my life.” 

“No one’s talking about forever, just for right now, for kriff’s sake.” Fennec sighed.  “So how do you feel about Din?  Do you share his feelings?” 

Marathel thought for a while before answering.  “I told him that I loved him before I went into the Hold; at least, as much as I knew how to love anyone.  I know that I’m grateful for him, grateful that he took me away from there.  But … it’s … it’s his Creed I’m having trouble with.” 

Fennec frowned.  “What do you mean?” 

“The day before he took me to the Hold, I asked him if he would take off his helmet, that he could have me if he wished,” — Fennec frowned at this — “but … without the helmet, so that I would have his face as a last memory.  He said no, of course.  He told me that his affection for me was less than his devotion to his Creed.  And I suppose I understood that, but then … he asked if I would sleep next to him, so he could hold me, caress me while he slept.  Fondle me.  As if I were only a toy.  Not a person.  Certainly not an equal.”  Marathel sighed.  “Perhaps he does love me, but … I’m afraid I will always be in the shadow of his Creed.  That shadow may be too cold for me to bear.” 

“Well, Marathel, that’s certainly a valid thing for you to feel.”  Fennec patted her arm.  “It seems like you two have much to discuss.” 

“I wouldn’t know how to even begin.” 

“The truth is usually the best place to start.  But … for now I suggest you concentrate on what’s coming up with these Reconstructionists.  Okay?”  Marathel nodded, then sat up enough to hug Fennec hard.  Fennec hugged her back.  “It’s going to be okay, Marathel.” 

“I hope so.”  And she did. 

You Were Marked: Next Chapter->

#din djarin #pedrostories #pedro stories #starwarsficnetwork #din djarin angst #mando angst #the mandalorian angst #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x fem oc #mando x fem oc #mando x plus size oc #din djarin x plus size!fem oc

[gingersnappe-9]

In a Crowd of Thousands: Beskar vs. the Dark Saber (16)

Din Djarin/Mando X Fem!OC || Star Wars/The Mandalorian Universe

Series List || #star wars anastasia || PREVIOUS || NEXT

5.4 K words

Warning: canon violence (lethal weapons use), near death experience(s)

A/N: chapter banner art by @followwhereshegoes​ & myself

The plan was to announce her reunion to Leia and reaffirm their family’s legacy of fighting for the greater good of the galaxy. 

Ava tried convincing herself that it was for the best. No, that it was her rightful place to be by her sister’s side fighting the good fight with the Rebellion and serving as a diplomatic attache to underprivileged reaches of the galaxy. It’s what they talked about at least, but the more Ava experienced it, the stuffier she rediscovered it all was. She recalled how much she disliked wearing dresses that she could potentially trip over and fall on her face in front of some important foreign dignitary – she actually remembered doing that once when she was younger – She had forgotten how most of the individuals in law and diplomacy were decades older than her and never quite appreciated her humor. Ava accidently scandalized a maid when she dropped a book on her toe while practicing her walk – like he did back on the Crest – and swore like a spice runner. 

Try as she might, Ava was just having a far more difficult time fitting in to her birthright. She’d watch the maids flit around and coo about the fine jewelry and dresses she and Leia would be wearing to the event. She had to agree though, the gowns and finery were stunning. The material felt like starlight across Ava’s fingertips. The bright colored gemstones of her necklace were as red as sand stone. A pair of crowns, however, remained in their storage boxes. Leia suggested they hold off on donning their headdresses until they arrived at the venue. 

“They’re gorgeous but I’ve knocked mine off my head getting out of a cruiser or two.” The sisters shared a good laugh. Ava wasn’t sure what being a “someone” should feel like but only deep down in her subconscious did she consider that she really only needed simple things… perhaps a simple person. 

Sooner, rather than later, everyone was dressed and being ushered into sleek, black cruisers. Leia and her secretary or personal assistant immediately began chatting about her schedule and future events. They didn’t seem to need her attention so Ava allowed herself to gaze out the tinted windows and onto the passing by cityscape. The light had already begun to bleed from the sky as dusk settled over Canto Bight. The lights streaked by not unlike the stars at lightspeed, though they paled in comparison.

They arrived at the Starfield Legacy Center far earlier than even the ravenous reporters who were always far more interested in capturing the glitzy regalia or a moment of weakness between a supposedly madly in love couple. Ava and Leia calmly walked through a side entrance with grand capes covering their ensembles with ushers following closely on foot with the crowns, locked away in protective boxes. One of the event coordinators brought them up to a secluded room where they could freshen up and wait in privacy before the speeches and press rounds. Ava sat down quietly on a plush chair tucket into the corner. She fiddled with her opera length gloves to keep herself from messing up her hair or makeup or her dress. She watched as Leia moved through the motions with ease. How her sister handled unexpected questions with ease and firm command. Leia was a natural born leader and Ava adored watching her in her element. If Ava had been left to her own devices, she would’ve shown up with a smear of grease on her cheek, a pair of work coveralls all rumpled and disheveled only to say, “Hi, I’m her. So, yeah that’s it”. 

Lost in thought, Ava didn’t even notice that Leia had approached her with one of the large lock boxes balanced in her arms. She had already placed her silver crown neatly on her head. It resembled a solid halo that sat across the center of her head with five slender peaks jutting out. Alderaanian jewelry was rather simple, but in its simplicity they were always striking. The necklace – small squares of Alderaanian silver linked by delicate jump rings – was a piece that their mother wore often. The necklace must’ve been stored off-world at an embassy for it to have been saved from the destruction of Alderaan.  

“I believe it is time.” 

Ava stood up slowly as Leia rested the box on the nearby side table. When the cover was lifted, the light in the room seemed to shift to a golden hour. The halo-shaped crown was fitted to her scalp with a tapered point resting just below the center of her hairline. Teardrop shaped pearls rested across her forehead. The thin bands that reached out were like rays of the sun with even more pearls inlaid in between. Ava let herself adjust to the weight of it, glad that Leia suggested she hold off wearing it until necessary. There was music beginning to play from the hall, though muffled it signaled the evening was beginning. 

The two of them walked over to a large full-length mirror on the other side of the room. They looked very much like the sun and moon – Ava in her striking gold crown, cream colored dress with a deep green sash; and Leia in her midnight purple gown, silver jewelry, and similar sash made of a maroon satin – Their father used to call them his sun and moon. Leia placed a hand on each of Ava’s shoulders and allowed her cheek to rest on her sister. They stood there taking in the sight of one another. Taking in the other’s presence and the reality that against all odds they were together again. Family. 

Leia squeezed Ava’s shoulders and took a step back. “You look so much like her.” 

“Who?” Ava responded quietly. 

Leia only smiled. “Mama. You have her presence.” 

The younger of the two sisters smiled right back. “You remind me of Papa. You’re always so sure, and just as fair.” 

“You’ve done well, you know,” Leia spoke calmly, “I know none of this has been easy. But you’ve done really well with handling everything that’s come your way.” 

“The journey was interesting to say the least.” Ava quipped. 

The two of them stood silently together for a moment more. But only a moment before Leia took Ava’s hands and helped her slip her gloves on. For some reason, when she focused on the gloves, she thought of Mando and how his gloves slipped on and off his hands. 

Leia half smiled. “But I can't help but wonder if it’s what you really want.” 

Ava pulled her hands back while Leia regally collapsed hers together. “What does that mean?” 

“I just mean… You were born into this world. It was your destiny from birth to wear that crown and carry on the legacy of house Organa as much as it is mine to carry on the Organa and Skywalker legacy,” Her voice never waivered, never accusatory or disappointed, just very truthful, “But I can’t help but feel that it might not be meant for you after all.”

The pair of them stood in the room alone in silence for a moment after Leia finished. Ava had similar thoughts float into her mind but she’d always dismissed them as trivial since everything the Mandalorians had told her was a lie to get her sister’s money. “Whatever happened, happened. I can’t change it and I will not go back to it.” 

Leia gave her a look only older sisters could make. “He must have been special then for you to be digging your heels like a ton-ton.” 

After she had to throw back a lighthearted grimace at being called a ton-ton, Ava didn’t know what to feel. No, she knew exactly how she should feel. It was a lie for money. A cash grab. Nothing more, nothing less. Ava knew Leia could sense her feelings so there was no point delaying the obvious. 

“They did what bounty hunters do. They delivered their quarry and now they’re probably halfway to a new sector by now.” She said with more sorrow than intended. It hurt to put power into her fears. Out of the corner of Ava’s eye, she caught her sister with a somewhat hesitant look. “What?” Leia’s face shifted rather quickly to one with a soft, knowing smile. 

“Aurie, he didn’t take the money. And I can’t imagine their withholding information makes you feel better, but for what it’s worth, they brought you back to me. But this is the life that I have chosen for myself. I supposed, now, it’s your turn to choose.” 

Leia let go of Ava’s hands and began to walk towards the door and didn’t turn back to see if her sister was following until she opened the door. When Leia turned back, she truly looked like their mother. Though Ava knew the two weren’t blood related, it was in the way Leia carried herself. Her poise, the way she tilted her head and said, “Ava, Aurelia, it makes no difference to me. You are mine and Luke’s sister. We will always love you.” And then she calmly walked out into the world Ava was uncertain of reentering. 

It felt as if the world had spun off its axis and was floating farther and farther away from its sun. So Ava decided to go outside and take in some fresh air. 

The gardens were large and expansive – but most importantly empty – on a large earthen terrace that overlooked Canto Bight. From its vantage point, Ava could see the city cresting out towards the bay. The calm waters glittered in the early moonlight. Distant sounds of life were carried in on the wind. Below, each and every person walked their own path. Difficult ones. Easy ones. Some that were hard one day then a breeze the next. What path will I take now? She’d found her family. More than she was expecting, two whole siblings who expressed their unconditional love for her. What was next? 

What indeed?

A foreign voice echoed in her mind and all of a sudden Ava’s body stiffened. She turned around quickly and found the path empty. But something or someone was out there. A new energy swirled in the air. Ava felt like her nerves were on fire as her blood began to pound behind her temples. The energy, the presence, she’d felt it before crawling in the back of her mind. It was cold and filled with a quiet and dangerous rage. 

“I know you.” Her voice wavered as she spoke out into whatever darkness was drawing closer. 

A man appeared. The same stern face and severe eyes. His hands were placed behind his back as he walked with precise steps. In a word, elegant, or more accurately, predatory. His dark eyes stared her down, hungrier than his demeanor gave off.  

“Yes. We’ve met before. In a manner of speaking.” He continued to stalk forward. 

She put her hand out – as if the gesture would protect her – “Who are you?” 

“My name is Moff Gideon, your Highness.” He gave a short nod after her title. 

A chill ran through her spine. “You have me confused with someone else.” No sooner did Ava try to turn around, a powerful feeling wrapped around her mind giving her a splitting headache. It nearly made her drop to her knees. 

“Oh, I’m not confused at all. You are the lost daughter of Senator and Queen Organa,” His voice was cold and seemed to strike with a blunt edge with each word, “Though my plans need a little adjusting you’ll do just fine.” 

She turned around to face the man and slowly backed away with each step he took; but even so, she felt like she was being backed into a corner. “Stop.” 

He kept advancing with a ceaseless gaze. 

“Stop.”  

Her head hurt.

“Stop.” 

Everything seemed wrong and her hands twitched. 

“STOP!” 

Ava thrust both of her palms out towards him and felt a surge of energy release. It was like a pulse, her pulse, magnified outward. It was not unlike what she experienced at the opera with Mando. 

She opened her eyes, not even realizing she’d squeezed them shut. Ava saw Gideon down on one knee, huffing to try and bring air back into his lungs. Ava channeled whatever courage she could muster, and tried to remember Luke’s lessons. But it felt like her memory was failing. A few stints in force sensitivity training did not a Jedi make. 

In her mind she asked for help from the cosmic forces of the universe, the Maker, Luke… Mando… anyone. 

A terrible sound came from his throat. It was strained laughter, or at least some form of it. “Excellent. Most excellent.” Gideon pushed himself up with visible struggle but quickly regained his footing. He moved his cloak to the side and revealed a hilt clipped to his belt, took it in hand, “You do indeed have what I want, Princess” and ignited the blade. 

It was unlike anything Ava had ever seen. It mimicked the way Luke’s lightsaber emitted light, but it was dark. The blade was black with white edges. The energy surrounding the weapon was just as dark. Ava sensed how it wrapped around Moff Gideon’s mind and body, twisting and warping what was already malevolent to begin with. It was consuming him. Alarm bells screamed out in Ava’s mind. Run. 

She took off in an instant without direction or awareness. Ava gathered as much of the dress into her arms as she could, but the weight of the fabric still seemed to slow her down. It didn’t help that she’d lost sight of the building between the impossibly tall greenery. Ava figured her best bet would be to hide where he wouldn’t expect to look or would be least likely to find her. So Ava ducked into a nearby cluster of trees. 

The more she pushed her way through, however, the sleeves and hem of her dress caught and snagged on branches and twigs. It ripped the delicate overlay of her dress and muddied her heels. Finding they only got stuck in the dirt and undergrowth, Ava kicked them off and daringly threw them away in hopes it would possibly fool Gideon into going a different direction. 

It felt like her heart was going to burst from her chest. The more time she spent in suspense, the harder her blood pounded. The greater the ringing in her ears became as the sky grew darker and the shadows became more and more menacing. Her mind felt cloudy. She couldn’t hear anything or anyone. They must’ve been deeper into the garden than she’d realized. Despite her mental haze, Ava gently tried closing her eyes and reaching out to feel for presence. She’d barely touched the surface when something came screaming into her mind. It felt like claws digging into her nerves. Her skin became so cold so quickly it felt as if it were burning. And despite her best efforts, she couldn’t help but scream out in agony. 

I found you. 

Before she even knew it, a deep reverb echoed in her mind alerting her not a moment too soon before a blade struck out just millimeters above her head. 

Ava scrambled to her feet and ran back out onto the path. Her body still cried out in pain, and her breach into energy opened like a flood gate. Gideon was still gaining on her. She reached out and felt the finely laid stone beneath her feet; she focused on the craggy surface and motioned with her hand as if she were clawing it out from the ground and flung it back with all her strength. A large chunk flew up and back at her pursuer. Ava heard rock crumbling, and when she looked back, saw the slab sliced in two. 

Impossible. 

“No, not impossible, my dear.”

Somehow the lunatic was in her head. He was the clawing in her mind, like a poison slowly creeping into her bloodstream. 

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice felt hoarse and her body was only growing weaker. 

“Why does anyone do anything? Power. Power is the way of the world. It always has been. It brings the greatest change and is the strength of the longest lasting empires. And with the dark saber and you, my goals for the galaxy are well within reach.” 

“You’re forgetting that most power-hungry madmen are spineless cowards who use others to get what they want.” Her voice was horse and growing strained. 

Gideon chuckled with a false humor. It was cruel and mocking. Ava could feel it pulsing behind her eyes and the pain brought her down to her knees as he skulked closer. 

“You’ve just never seen true power before. This,” He brandished the blade up towards her face. So close, Ava could feel the cold energy pulsing off it. “This is what power really is.” 

She’d never seen energy like it before. The blade both emitted light and yet somehow seemed void of it. As such close proximity, she felt it draining her energy even more. Only one sort of thing in the known universe drew in energy like that – a black hole. The dark saber was some sort of contained black hole. It had to have been. It appeared to be the antithesis of a lightsaber which projected the wielder’s energy. The dark saber fed off it. It pulled in the life force of its wielder, even those around it. 

“That thing is killing you.” Something flashed quickly across Gideon’s face. He wasn’t expecting her to say something like that, and Ava caught it. “But you didn’t know that, did you? How could you, you don’t know anything real about power you-” 

He quickly slashed the blade through the air and swiped Ava’s cheek. It burned. It was cold and yet burned hotter than anything she’d ever felt in her life. The pain rendered her speechless as she was knocked to the floor grasping her cheek. 

“I know more about this power than anyone else in the galaxy,” The tip of the blade hovered precariously close to her face, “Pity. You could’ve been something great. But you’re just like all the rest of those feckless fools in the Resistance. You’re just standing in my way.” 

Ava’s world suddenly came to a screeching halt. She’d heard those words before spoken in that very same voice. Out of nowhere she recalled crouching behind a hallway corner, then a hand falling to the floor. It had been her father’s hand. Ava could hear her mothers scream before her body hit the floor with a sickening, and lifeless thud. “It was you…” Her voice caught in her throat, “You killed them.” 

When Ava looked up at Moff Gideon his face was twisted into a mad grin. He relished in her horrifying realization. 

His eyes were wide and wild, “I’ll take what I need. But don’t worry, you’ll be with them soon enough.” Gideon raised the darksaber to dish out what could only be a mortally wounding blow. 

Please… 

A blaster shot rang out, as if from thin air, struck the flat side of the saber blade, ricocheting off into the ground. 

A feeling swept over Ava, it was good and young. Grogu. And where the tiny green creature found himself, another was never far behind. 

Ava turned her head in the direction of the shot and saw a familiar silhouette slip into the shadows. She sensed how he stalked through the dark and cover of the greenery ever closer. His watchful gaze never left hers. Ava could feel in her own muscles the way his pulled and strained against his bones. The strength in his hands as he gripped his blaster artfully. Teeming with energy and an overwhelming urge to seek and destroy. 

Without realizing, Gideon slashed down again.

Ava’s body reacted before she could even think. Her palm extended outward just as the saber came down. The scene around her became perfectly clear in her mind. The stone surface of the pathway through the soft and tearing material of her dress; she became one with the plant cells slowly blooming while others had fallen to the ground and went through the final stages of decomposition. The air molecules surrounding the blade snapped and popped as it moved through the air. And just before the saber made contact with her flesh, it stopped. 

It stopped the same way two magnets of the same polarization repelled one another. The blade held against nothing in midair. The two of them stared at each other with a look of awe but even during that moment, Ava could feel her control slipping. 

Another blaster shot, this one straight to Gideon’s hands, knocking the saber from his grip. The next thing Ava saw was the bulk of Mandalorian armor hurdling out from nowhere and tackling Gideon to the ground. The two men grappled on the ground for the upperhand. They seemed to match each other blow for blow. Though Mando was strong, Ava could sense something in Gideon had been altered by the blade. He fought back like an animal possessed, clawing and punching and the soft points between Mando’s armor. Gideon somehow managed to rip off one of Mando’s thigh plates and used it to completely slap Mando clean across his helm. 

The sound of pure beskar striking beskar was loud for Ava, so it must’ve been somewhat deafening for Mando. The Mandalorian stumbled back and Gideon managed to reach for a blaster hidden on the opposite side of his hip. Ava cried out just as Gideon pulled the trigger, striking Mando in the shoulder, just below his pauldron. She barely registered the distressed sounds coming from Grogu’s pram just a few meters away. He tried to come forward, but Ava intentionally held his little craft back. 

In the moments afterwards, it felt like the shot kept ringing in her ears. 

“There is a reason his kind is all but extinct,” Gideon’s voice was wicked and chilled, “Too noble for their own good.” He took aim again, this time, where the hollow of Mando’s throat would be. She could feel his pain rippling throughout his arm, she felt his racing pulse slow. Mando fought to maintain his composure as his thoughts grew fuzzy till they all disappeared into unconsciousness. 

Ava’s hands twitched again. They needed to hold on to something. They needed to defend. Her mind reached out, and no sooner could Gideon place his finger on the trigger did the dark saber skitter across the ground and fly into Ava’s hand. She surged forward with a speed she didn’t know she had. The blade sliced up through the barrel of the blaster as if it were nothing. The force of her attack was strong enough to knock Gideon back a few paces. 

Something took Ava over. She felt a thrum of electricity coursing through her. She felt like a star about to explode, just teeming with potential power and energy. So she took off. 

Gideon barely had enough time to react. The saber came down hard against the plate. It was beskar versus the dark saber. Blow after blow, Ava continued to swing with every ounce of her strength that she could muster, and the blade responded in kind. She let her anger roll through her like the undercurrent of a torrent river. It was a rage she’d never felt before, or had only become aware of the moment she realized Gideon was the man who slaughtered her parents. Ava slashed and punched and kicked and all he could do was use his small shield against her. The ground beneath them quickly bore the marks of their opposing efforts. Scorches here, slashes there, the concrete and stonework ripped from the ground. Sweat crept down Gideon’s brow, the weapon he once envisioned himself conquering the galaxy with had been turned against him. It drew on his fear. 

He was responsible for her suffering. He was the one who’s greed had led to the deaths of so many innocent lives. He’d nearly killed Mando. He had tried to kidnap and do Maker know what sort of horrible things to little Grogu, and possibly even her. Ava’s hands grew hot from the fury surging through her body. It felt as though her eyes glowed in anger. The dark saber responded, it hummed and sang in her mind to the very same tune of revenge. It craved it as much as she did. Moff Gideon needed to pay for his crimes, and they decided he would. 

With a swift punch backed by the force, Ava swiftly knocked the air clean out of Gideon’s lungs. He lay on his back atop the wreckage they’d both created. Ava hadn’t even realized how far they’d traveled till she caught a glimpse of herself in some sculpture. The polished metal reflected back an image of herself that Ava didn’t recognize. Her dress was torn and mottled with dirt and debris. Her crown was long gone and her hair was coming undone. What startled her most was her eyes. They weren’t brown anymore, they seemed brighter with flashes of red on the outer edge of her iris. She was changing before her eyes. The blade sang out in protest of her stalling. 

Ava paused and looked for a moment at the strange sword. She listened to it with a more careful ear, and what she heard was different from her initial judgment. 

The blade wasn’t inherently evil. It wasn’t anything much at all. Energy was constantly flowing through the crystal within. Raw potential. It called for revenge because she had wished for it in her mind. Standing there and witnessing how quickly hate had made her change frightened Ava. The potential had always been there, but it took the blade to make herself realize how much of her emotions she had been ignoring. It stung. The hilt grew heavy with doubt, and it was in that split second Gideon acted. 

He lunged up from the ground like some feline creature with his teeth bared ready to sink into the soft flesh of its prey. 

His hands wound around her own on the hilt of the dark saber. The two of them grappled with strained muscles. Ava nearly bit into her lip with the amount of effort it took to keep the blade away from Gideon’s effort to drive it into her throat. The man’s eyes were as wild and feral as her own, but Ava felt her anger slipping away. It pained her to look him in the face – the man responsible for her mother and father’s deaths – but a new sensation began to whisper in the back of her mind… 

We will always love you. 

We are with you.

It was Leia. Luke. Her parents. Everyone who cared for her, near and far, alive and gone. Their essences melding together like a balm that soothed her soul. Their love and spirits were with her. They would remain in and all around her. No matter how angry she was, how hurt and betrayed by fate she felt, Ava realized that would never die. It would sustain her, it had thus far. She’d traveled clear across the galaxy for a feeling she did not have a name for… but it was the love for her family, found or otherwise. 

In her hands, she could sense the saber mirroring her conflicting emotions. How it cried out in confusion from her influence as well as Gideon’s. It was the oldest song in the galaxy: one of struggle, light and dark. Only Ava seemed to be listening to it.  

“Why don’t you seem to understand?” He hissed, close enough Ava could feel the heat of his breath against her face, “The only way to exist is to take and maintain order.” 

Ava was close. Even with her limited knowledge of sabers, she felt for the housing unit within the hilt. She could feel the power circuits and the wiring leading to a central unit. All the while, Gideon’s grip had become so fierce he pushed her palm so hard into the hilt they’d begun to bleed against the detailing. His fingernails bore into her skin leaving red crescents dribbling. 

There. 

The image of it came clear in her mind. It was no bigger than her thumb, deep like onyx and vast as a moonless night. 

“For take, there should be give. After death, life should grow,” She planted her feet and dung down deep, “The galaxy will continue forward long after any of us leave this world. Any attempts to out last it are foolish.” 

She bore down on the housing unit. Felt it break and warp under her pressure. Release. Gideon sensed it too. He began to yell and scream in vain. Ava had already cracked in, uncontained energy had begun to spill out. 

“The way of existence is balance.” 

It broke and like a supernova, energy poured outward. The saber sparked and burst, sending out white hot particles. Ava and Gideon were knocked back with scorch marks across their exposed skin. 

Ava landed hard on her back, the wind knocked clean out of her. In her attempts to pull air back into her lungs, she struggled to look around. Gideon lay in a smoldering pool of his black cloak. Unmoving. The crystal lay amongst the debris of the destroyed hilt, calm. She pulled it into the palm of her hand with little effort. It was indeed as black as the void of space, so much so, it seemed her hand had developed a blackhole. Vengeance no longer silently plagued her mind. That part was done and over. It was time for growth. 

Ava whipped her head back to see if Grogu had avoided the flair. The doors of his pram opened with a soft hydraulic hiss and sweet eyes gazed down at her as he floated in her direction. 

“Where’s your dad?” She wheezed. 

Grogu hovered off in a direction and Ava stumbled behind as if she were a babe just learning to walk. When Mando came into view the adrenaline had begun to wear off. From the distance, Ava couldn’t even tell if he was still breathing.

All of her strength gave out leaving her no choice but to crawl the last few feet to Mando. His beskar was scorched and scored from the saber. Bits of his flight suit were singed and the place beneath his right pauldron was soaked in red. Panic seized her heart and muscles. Her once steady hands shook uncontrollably as she lifted the pauldron up and off. The site was black and oozing. Knowing she didn’t have enough strength to see if the shot had gone clean through his shoulder, Ava had to lean her entire upper body weight to apply pressure. His breathing was shallow, his heartbeat slow. The bleeding had been prolonged without any intervention and his body was showing the toll. Her entire body shook. She was beaten and aching. Shrapnel had certainly lodged itself in various points of her body, but none of that mattered. Ava reached for whatever energy she had left. 

She felt the dimming hum of Mando’s life. It was slipping away. 

“No,” Tears fell across the motionless helmet, “Not you too.” Her voice was barely there. Desperation and despair thick enough that she practically choked on it. “Please… I need you… I… love… you.” 

Grogu appeared beside her. His small hand reached for the site. Ava wanted to pull his untainted fingers back, no child should have to witness and partake in such misery. But something washed over her. Energy pooled in a different direction the closer Grogu came. 

She rested her hand atop Grogu’s significantly smaller one. Ava allowed herself to follow the gentle current. Beneath her trembling fingers, Ava could feel Mando’s skin shifting. Torn cells joined again. Layers of epidermis repaired itself slowly as the current flowed from hers and Grogu’s hands. Mando’s heartbeat rose. But Ava’s dipped. She was giving so he could take. 

Slowly but surely, with their conjoined effort, the wound was mended. The viscous remnants remained, but the bleeding had stopped. He took a deep breath which meant Ava could finally take one herself. 

By then, there was shouting and disturbance from the crowds above. Ava sent off a brief moment to her sister and to Luke. Whether or not they sensed it, Ava didn’t care. Her eyes were heavy and her body had already slumped across Mando’s chest. The coolness of the beskar soothed the heat from the mark across her cheek. Grogu had already succumbed to his much needed rest. Whoever would find them would be in for a surprise. 

A princess, a bounty hunter, a small child all together. 

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[moralesispunk]

The Fire Between Us

Din Djarin x Mandalorian! Female Reader

Summary: There is a rivalry in the Nevarro Covert that has become infamous among all Mandalorians. They fight, they compete, but at the heart of it they are both avoiding feelings they would rather ignore

Warnings: This fic is 18+ (as is the rest of my blog) but each chapter will have specific warnings and all chapters that contain smut will be marked with a * below

Chapter List (Ongoing):

Chapter One - Ignite (4.9k words)

Chapter Two - Inflame (9.7k words)

Chapter Three - Kindle (6.3k words) - Sneak Peek

Chapter Four - Blaze  (7k words) - Sneak Peek

Chapter Five - Burn - Sneak Peek

Chapter Six (TBC)

Drabbles and Extras

Chapter 3.5 - Reader's POV 

#din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x female oc #din djarin x oc #din djarin #mando #the mandalorian

[dindjarriiin]

din djarin || flyboy part i.

pairing: din djarin x reader I din djarin x fem!OC.

summary: it was supposed to be another bounty - his biggest yet. ten million credits secured - easy. what could possibly go wrong?

word count: 7.9k words.

{rewritten bc the first draft was shit xo}

-

Din silently entered the dilapidated room; calm, emotionless. The constant haze of Tatooine seeped in through the numerous holes and craters in the pale wall like scattered beams of starlight. The room itself was empty and barren, save for a bedroll and a small stone table.

One lone figure sat facing the wall, shrouded in a grey cloak - completely obscured.

“Let me guess...bounty hunter?” the figure asked - their voice was soft and calm, much to Din’s surprise. “Here to collect the price on my head?” Din remained silent. “Am I wrong?” The figure turned their head, face illuminated by a shaft of light which entered the room.

It was unmistakably her. If her striking beauty was not enough, her eyes gave it away. They were a murky grey, a long scar lashed right across them, now faded and pale pink in colour. Din had looked at her puck more often than he would like to admit.

“No. You’re not.” Din spoke after a moment, slowly stepping into the room. He did not seem to understand how such a gentle-looking female would be so sought after in the galaxy - especially by such villains like the Empire.

The woman hummed, and a sad smile graced her face as she thought for a moment. She bowed her head seemingly in defeat before she began to rise. “Very well. Let’s get this over with.” Din drew his blaster and aimed out of instinct and the woman calmly held up her hands. “I won’t fight you, Mandalorian.” Her words shocked him, halting him in place. “You are a Mandalorian, aren’t you?”

Din shuffled uncomfortably. Doubt filled his mind. Perhaps she wasn’t blind? The woman laughed.

“Your armour. It’s loud,” she explained simply. “There’s not many in the galaxy with armour that noisy.”

Din remained stoic as she slowly walked closer to him, hands still raised. His grip tightened on his blaster as she stood directly in front of him, forehead almost touching the tip of his blaster.

“Loosen up, Mando,” she said the nickname with a flicker of a smirk. “I’m no threat to you,” One of her hands reached up and gently pushed the blaster down, not stopping until Din relented and lowered it fully. “Shall we get on with it?” she asked with a sigh as she held up her wrists.

He frowned behind his mask, eyes darting from her raised wrists to her face where there was no sign of animosity or anger. She simply stared ahead, straight through him.

He holstered his blaster cautiously before he placed the metal brackets over her wrists somewhat reluctantly. It all felt too easy. The woman inhaled sharply as the metal pinched her skin as it tightened, but remained stoic as Din reached for her shoulder and guided her in front of him.

“Walk,” he finally uttered, withdrawing his blaster again so he could prod her with it. His hand remained on her shoulder as he guided her out. She didn’t resist.

The blaring heat of the desert hit them as they stepped out of the shady sanctuary. The two hot suns blasted heat even as they began to slip down in the sky.

“Asara?” Din whipped himself and the woman towards the sound, his blaster following suit. He immediately lowered it at the sight of a very startled old woman clutching a crate of blue milk.

“It’s okay, Claura,” the woman - Asara - reassured her with a calm smile. “It’s alright,”

Claura seemed puzzled but Asara’s calmness didn’t waver. She nodded at the old woman, sensing her doubt.

“Where are you taking her?” Claura asked with a slight tremble in her voice.

Din was silent. He couldn’t bring himself to say it - something which he hated himself for.

“This is goodbye, Claura,” Asara answered for him. “Take what you like - it’s yours. I won’t have much use for it now.” she jested weakly, though Din could hear the first hint of sadness in her voice.

“Asara, please-”

“I’m sorry, Claura,” she bowed her head. “Goodbye,”

Asara turned her head away from the old lady, signalling that she was finished. Din pulled her back in the direction of his ship, having watched the interaction intently. He pitied her. He pitied the old woman too. The two appeared close, and he couldn’t help but feel guilt as Asara sniffled as they walked away.

She kept her head raised high, however, even as a few tears slipped from her distant eyes. They walked in silence for at least half an hour as the suns finally began to kiss the horizon.

Asara broke the silence first. “Your ship…” she said. “How much further is it?”

“Not far,” Din replied after hesitating. “Why?” he readjusted the blaster against her back cautiously.

“It’s almost night,” she mused. “And you don’t want to be walking around this desert at night,” Din wasn’t phased by this. Her next words, however, did. “Not to mention the Jawa love to scavenge outside our settlement. Your ship would be easy pickings if it’s much further than this.”

Din halted, pulling Asara’s shoulder roughly. Her smirk unsettled him as he pulled out his gun and looked down his sights. A hollow carcass of his beloved ship sat dormant on the horizon where he had left it.

“Dank farrik.” Din hissed, fighting the urge to throw his gun to the ground in his fury. He stomped, letting out an angered growl instead. “Where are they?” Din grabbed her shoulder, forcing her to face him - fruitlessly. “Where do they go?”

“They’re Jawa. They go where they please,” Asara said with a shrug of her shoulders.

“Don’t lie to me,” he warned, his hand still on her shoulder. “You know.”

Asara attempted to hold back her laughter. “And how is it I know, Mandalorian? Do you think I sit and watch the Jawa as a pass time?” she asked teasingly. Din felt his face flush in embarrassment. “That usually requires working eyes,”

He sighed deeply at her mocking, shoulders sagging in defeat. “I need my ship to get off this planet. To get-”

“Your payment, yes, I know,” Asara finished for him. “Instead of whining about it why don’t you go and look? Maybe there’s something salvageable?” she suggested, although she already knew the answer. “Lead the way,”

“Not a chance,” he grabbed her elbow and began to pull her along with him as he quickly trudged across the sand to what was left of his ship.

His blood boiled at he looked at the remains upon approaching. There was nothing but scraps of metal and the mere bones of the Razor Crest. “Kriff.” he hissed again.

Asara chuckled again, shaking her head at the Mandalorians foolishness. Her head tipped back as she did so, eyes closing in pure amusement. “Oh, and here I was thinking you were one of the smart ones,”

“Alright, enough,” Din growled, storming over to her. He gripped her shoulders again, this time rougher - her smirk didn’t disappear. “Where do they go? You said they liked to scavenge around here so where else do they go?”

“They will have gone far away from here, Mandalorian.” Asara drawled dramatically. “They’re nomads. They don’t stay in one place for too long.” Din yelled out in anger turning to kick one of the metal sheets left behind. Asara sighed, her shoulders sagging as she felt how angry he was. “I’m not lying to you,”

“Like kriff you aren’t-”

“Have I put up a fight so far?” she cut him off. “Last I remember I don’t think I tried to clobber you on our way down here?”

“Will you please just…be quiet?” Din asked in defeat as his shoulders sagged. He sat down on one of the empty crates they had left behind which once held his spare weapons.

Asara stopped her teasing immediately. She frowned as she realised how truly upset he seemed at the loss of his ship. She thought back to when she had her ship - years ago - and how much she loved it.

“It’s no use looking for them in the dark,” she said through a sigh as she kicked one of the metal chunks protruding with wires over to Din who looked down at it in confusion. “If you want your parts back we can look for them at sunrise.”

“Sunrise? But that’s-”

“If you want to look now, go ahead,” she waved her conjoined hands for emphasis. “But I’d rather die later in a hopefully more dignified way rather than be squashed by a bantha - or worse.”

Her words struck him.

“I need my ship back.” he pressed, this time less snappily.

“And you’ll get it,” she said, kicking over a ball of wires. “But not tonight. So why don’t you put that micro-probe in your pocket that keeps clinking around to good use and make us a fire?”

Din rolled his eyes but stood regardless and knelt beside the scrap Asara had kicked over and silently began to light it. Asara sat across from him and casually leaned against one of the dusty rocks as the fire flickered and began to emit heat.

Din allowed himself to relax only slightly as he rested against the carcass. Silence settled - apart from the spitting of the fire from time to time. It warmed them as the coldness of the night settled quickly and sharply.

Din watched her carefully, anticipating any move that she might make. But she proved to be like no other bounty. Asara was tranquil, calm - seemingly at peace - despite the situation she found herself in.

“Do you know why there is a bounty on my head?” Asara broke the silence, eyes facing the warm fire. The grey turned to light orange in the dim light, and she appeared radiant.

Din didn’t reply for a few moments, debating if he even should. He never conversed with his bounties if he didn’t have to. But Asara felt different.

“No,” he finally replied.

Asara hummed. “Interesting,” she said in genuine surprise. “Tell me, is that because you don’t really care about who you walk up to the executioner’s block or are you just not interested in current affairs?”

“I’m interested in my payment.” he cut with a harsh tone, not liking to dwell on his profession. Remorse in this line of work could get you killed or worse - not paid. He had to remind himself of this as she laughed.

“Typical bounty hunter.” she sighed deeply with a smile on her face. “Such questionable morals.”

“Might I remind you, your bounty is dead or alive,”

Asara laughed again - this time more raucous and mocking. “Is that supposed to scare me, Mandalorian?” she teased as she leaned forward. “Might I remind you that me being alive will result in a bigger payment? That is all you are interested in after all.” she quipped with her tongue between her teeth at Din’s silence. She settled back against the boulder when he didn’t bite back.

“You seem to know an awful lot about the price on your own head…” he finally replied.

“It would be odd if I didn’t, would it not?” she answered with a wince as a rock pinched her bottom. “No point in being ignorant - especially when there’s ten million credits on your head.” she grumbled to herself. “It’s all I’ve had to think about for the past two years.” Asara became distant for a moment as she seemingly was taken back to some point in time.

“Two years with ten million on your head?” Din couldn’t help but ask the question he had wanted to ask since Greef told him of the latest tip-off. “How?”

Asara huffed out a laugh but it lacked humour. “I’m just lucky, I guess.”

“I’ve been a bounty hunter for a long time,” Din shook his head. “No one’s ever lived that long with a bounty that high,”

Asara rolled her shoulders uncomfortably. “I never stayed in one place for too long,” she shrugged. “I never grew close to any one. I was…nobody.”

“So why settle here?” he asked before he could stop himself. “Why give it up?”

“I’m tired,” Asara smiled sadly. “And I don’t hate the idea of letting you get ten million because of me. There’s definitely been worse than you.” Din huffed at her words but took the compliment silently. “That is why. I’m done running…I’m done hiding.”

Din was intrigued to say the least - Asara’s puck had been floating around the Guild for two years. She was the most sought after bounty for a while until many gave up purely because finding her seemed impossible. Din had come back from time to time but never thought it’d get him anywhere. And yet here he was, sitting across from her - the woman who would make him rich. And yet, he had no idea why ten million credits was on her head.

Asara smiled, as if reading his thoughts. “There’s a price for everything, Mandalorian, as I’m sure you - of all people - are aware.” she mused. “Vengeance, I’ve found out, is worth about ten million,”

Her jest ensnared him. He couldn’t help it. He wanted to know more. Two years of guessing and the answer was right there. Pride, however, is a funny thing. So the Mandalorian remained quiet.

“I forgot,” Asara slipped her back down the rock so she was laying flatter, beginning to settle in. “You’re not here for silly stories, are you?” Asara tutted at herself jokingly. “I’ll still be here in the morning, so please don’t watch me like a Loth-cat watching a mouse.”

Din rolled his eyes again at her words, but strangely, he felt as though he could trust her. So far, it had seemed as though she had told the truth.

He didn’t mean to fall asleep. The long journey and stress of losing his ships must have taken more out of him than he realised. His body awoke with a jolt when his brain finally comprehended that it had slipped into unconsciousness.

The first thing he noted was blaring heat of the suns. The second thing he noted was the lack of his bounty from across the dead hunk of metal and wires which had burnt out in the night.

He scrambled for his gun only to find that missing too. “Dank farrik!” he seethed, slamming his fist into the ground as he realised his stupidity. Never trust a bounty. He begrudgingly stood, mumbling to himself about how stupid he had been as he tried to find any trace of her. “Ten million gone and for what-”

“What are you doing?” A voice asked from behind him, causing him to stumble and draw his blaster out of instinct. Asara stood casually down his sights, gun slung over her shoulders and two Jakrabs in her still cuffed hands.

“You-Why-” Din stopped himself from saying anything else before he embarrassed himself even more. “You were gone.”

Asara chuckled, throwing him the two Jakrabs which he fumbled to catch with one hand. “I thought you might be hungry.” she said as she shrugged off his gun and leaned it against the boulder. “So I took the liberty of finding us food.” A smug grin found its way onto her face as she sat on top of the rock. “You’re welcome.”

Din was amazed at her spatial awareness. That and the fact that he had hunted and killed two Jakrabs blind and with her hands bound.

“It would’ve been much easier if I didn’t have these pinching me,” she held her wrists up as if reading his mind. “Quite the nuisance really,”

“I’m not taking them off,” he grumbled as he holstered his blaster and carefully inspected the Jakrabs.

Asara tipped her head as he did so, a smile on her face. “They aren’t poisoned,” she reassured with a sigh. “If I wanted to kill you I wouldn’t do it through Jakrabs.”

“How would you do it?” Din asked cautiously as he plucked out his knife and began to skin them.

Asara hummed in thought. “I suppose I could lead you to the Sarlaac pit near here - that would be fun. Although I know of a few Tuskan Raiders who would love to have you as shiny target practice.” Din was silent. “I’m kidding! Lighten up, Mando.” she teased and slid down off the rock so she could restart the fire. Din looked down at her opened palm unsuredly. “I need your micro-probe. Unless you want to eat raw Jakrab - then you probably will die.”

He sighed before placing the small device in her hand. She smiled victoriously before sparking a fire within seconds. Din fished out a few metal prods from the scraps and skewered the skinned Jakrabs on them before handing one to Asara. He was about to berate himself internally for how stupid that was but Asara reached for the skewer in front of her wordlessly and held it over the fire.

“How do you it?” he asked before he could stop himself.

“Do what?”

“That,” he said. “You act like-like-”

“Like I can see?” she finished for him with a knowing smile. “It took a while to get used to, trust me.”

“So you-” Din cleared his throat awkwardly. “You weren’t born-”

“Blind? Maker, no,” Asara shook her head with a sad smile “No, I wasn’t born this way. In fact, it has only been two years since,” she sighed deeply in thought. “Yes, I used to see the sun rise and sun set. The faces of my family. The ocean,” she hummed. “Now that I loved. It didn’t matter the planet. I saw the oceans of Quila once. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”

Din remained quiet. It was the first time she had been so serious since he had captured her. He pitied her again and yet he didn’t know why. Her sad smile sparked something in his chest as her grey eyes stared emptily into the fire.

“Two years…” he trailed off. “Same time as your bounty.”

“Yeah, interesting timing, huh?” she said sarcastically and let out a puff of amusement.

Silence settled momentarily.

“How did it happen?”

Asara titled her head in surprise at his question and her brow furrowed. She hadn’t expected the stoic bounty hunter to be so…curious.

She contemplated her next words for a few moments before uttering; “The Empire.”

Din’s brow raised under his helmet. He watched as her brow remained furrowed as she held the skewer of meat closer to the fire. It sizzled and spat as it began to char but Asara didn’t pull it away.

“Why?”

Asara pushed the meat closer. The pink meat blackened.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she didn’t look at him as she spoke, only continued to glare at the fire. “Besides…I thought you were only interested in payment, Mandalorian.”

Her grey eyes finally looked up at him and it felt as if she could see him through his visor. He shifted uncomfortably. The meat on the skewer was completely burnt now and beginning to catch fire. She didn’t relent.

“You’re right,” Din nodded. “I am.”

She pulled the skewer back as soon as he spoke and blew out the flame that had settled on the leg. “I’m not very hungry anymore,” she said, dropping the skewer on the floor. “Eat on the way. I’ve got some idea where they might be. But we need to hurry.”

Din rose at the same time as her, hand going to his blaster.

“I had my chance to flee and I didn’t,” she quipped with an unimpressed raised brow. “You don’t have to poke that thing in my back the whole way. At least make my last few hours alive somewhat enjoyable?” she smirked as she turned away and began to walk down one of the sandy gorges.

Din hesitated - hand hovering over his blaster. He watched as she continued to walk without a care in the world as if she could see right in front of her - every rock and dip easily avoided.

He followed after he with a defeated sigh. His armour clinked as he jogged over to her. “Wait,”

“C’mon, Mando, we haven’t got all day,” she teased. “Keep your eye on that horizon - you won’t be able to miss their big hunk of metal.”

They didn’t speak after that. They had trudged wordlessly next to each other for almost four hours. They had reached a particularly rocky ravine which Asara weaved her way through effortlessly. Din paused to admire her movement and had to rush to catch up with her.

He wondered how long she had been on Tatooine for her to know the land so well. Two years with this much spatial awareness seemed almost impossible. Maybe she wasn’t completely blind like everyone had thought. Maybe-

“Y’know, if you have something to say just say it.” she interrupted his train of thought, making him jump slightly. He was beginning to get unnerved at how easily she could read him.

"I don’t.”

Asara hummed with a shrug of her shoulders and a knowing smile. “I grew up here, y’know?” she began - not caring if Din was interested or not, although something told he very much was. “I haven’t been back here since…” she cleared her throat. “For a long time.”

“You seem to know it well,” Din commented as she avoided another rock. “Too well…” he mumbled under his breath.

Asara laughed. “I haven’t walked this way before,” she informed him much to his surprise. Din halted.

“I thought you knew where they were?”

“I have a good idea,” she shrugged nonchalantly. Din stared at her incredulously behind his helmet. “What?” she paused too, turning to face him. “I’ve got a feeling,”

“A feeling…” Din trailed off as he tried to hold back a hiss. His fists clenched in anger making the leather of his gloves groan. “You’ve got us walking through this heat…because of a feeling,”

“A pretty damn good feeling,” she reiterated. “Trust me, the Jawa are this way.” she began to walk away again but when Din didn’t follow she paused again with a huff. “Can you just trust me?”

“You’re my bounty and you’re asking me to trust you?” he asked incredulously.

“I brought you Jakrab,” she reasoned with a shrug. Din sighed. “Besides, it’s too late to turn to back now. They won’t be much further. They’re quick little shits on their feet but that hunk they travel in is as slow as a-” Asara’s breath caught in her throat as she froze.

Din looked at her in confusion before looking around him. Nothing was in sight. “What are you doing?”

“Shh,” she hissed, putting a finger over her lips. “Something’s coming.”

“It better be Jawa or I swear-”

“Shut up, crik-head!” Asara snapped, making Din start to take her seriously. His hand hovered his blaster cautiously as Asara listened intently to something Din couldn’t hear. “Shit…” she whispered with wide eyes. “Uncuff me.”

“What? No-”

“Mando, uncuff me,” she urged. Her cuffs clanged against his metal armour as she rested them against it. “Now.”

Din went to protest again but a low rumble made him pause. Asara stilled, body going rigid.

“What’s coming?”

“Don’t move.” she warned eerily. The ground trembled as whatever it was bounded closer. A horrific rasp echoed across the ravine walls they stood in and Din instinctively gripped her wrists.

“Asara,” he spoke her name for the first time. Neither wanted to dwell on how it made the other feel. “What is that thing?”

“Mando, if you want to live, kindly shut the kriff up,” she hissed, grey eyes pleading with him to stay quiet as whatever it was drew closer. Her hands pressed further into chest out of sheer anxiety.

A loud roar made them both flinch as it was magnified by the thick sand walls that surronded them. A shadow obscured the sunlight which beamed down onto them, smothering them in shade as the thing sniffed the air.

“It’s a Krayt dragon,” Asara whispered to him. Din watched out of the corer of his visor as the large mass peered down into the valley at the to of them. “It’s only a baby, but it’s the most dangerous thing on this blasted planet.” she informed him. “If we move, it will attack us.”

Din swallowed hard and squeezed her wrists lightly.

“What do we do now?”

“Uncuff me.” The seriousness in her tone almost made him comply, but he hesitated. “Can you just trust me? Please?” she pleaded.

Din looked down into her grey eyes and saw the desperation behind them. There was no malice, no malcontent - no ulterior motive. She simply willed for him to be able to trust her - after all this time they had spent together.

“C’mon, flyboy, just uncuff me and I’ll-” As if sensing the tension, the Krayt let out a piercing shriek. “Scrag.” Asara hissed as the Krayt dropped down to their level and began to prowl towards them. The two pulled apart and attempted to prepare themselves. Din hurried to pull his staff from his back. “That stick isn’t going to cut it,” Asara told him as he ignited it.

“Just…get behind me,” he hissed as he pulled her back over to him. Asara placed her hand on his shoulder as he stood his ground despite the fear that almost completely paralyzed him as the beast stalked closer. “You ever kill one of these things before?”

“No,” she said through a wince. “I don’t think I need to ask you, do I?”

“No,” he said through a deep exhale. “No, you don’t.”

The dragon snapped its jaws at Din, making him stumble back. Thankfully, Asara caught his weight and pushed him back up again. The sudden movement startled the beast and sent it sprinting towards them.

“Move!” Din yelled, pushing Asara away from him and the dragon and onto the ground. He ignited his taser and jabbed at the Krayt’s snapping jaws, taking it by surprise just before it could swallow him whole.

For a moment the beast was stunned until it gathered its senses and was taken with an even mightier rage. Din attempted to fight it, swiping with his staff relentlessly at its face and neck. Nothing seemed to work. He felt powerless as the Krayt knocked him onto his back. He stared up at its opening jaws as it slowly began to lean down, ready to consume him.

He held his staff up in a poor attempt to keep the beasts jaws away from him, but knew deep down it was useless. His mind wandered to Asara, his eyes turning away from the dragon and to where he had pushed her to the ground, only to find no trace of her.

He closed his eyes as he thought of her fleeing the valley, back to her small hut, back to Claura. For some strange reason, he felt almost at ease at the thought of her escaping.

Just as he was about to accept his doom - staring into the jaws of Death - the beast paused, eyes wide in fear and confusion as its body stilled. Its jaw was still wide open before Din’s helmet as it let out a fearful screech. Its body was suddenly lifted from the ground and up into the air.

Din, as confused as the Krayt, peered down between his legs only to see an unmistakable silhouette.

Asara stood poised behind the dragon, hands freely outstretched before her as she guided it up into the air. She glared at the beast as she raised it higher and higher away from Din’s helpless form.

The beast wriggled and squirmed as it attempted to break free from the invisible hold it was trapped in - but to no avail. Asara’s hands shook as she held it in place and blood began to drip down her nose. With a sharp twist of her wrist, the Krayt’s neck snapped. Its body sagged in mid-air before Asara maneuvered it back to the ground.

As soon as it dropped with a dull thud, she rushed over to Din who was still watching her in awe. She offered him her hand with heavy breaths and Din took it gratefully, allowing her to haul him up off the dusty floor.

“You- he tried to catch his breath. “How did you-”

“Long story,” Asara chuckles breathlessly as she wipes her bloody nose with her cloak. “And you probably wouldn’t believe me,” she smiled up at him and Din felt his cheeks flush.

She moved away from him after a moment of trying to process what the kriff just happened and made her way to the Krayt’s body. Her hands felt along its hide, ghosting over each ridge individually.

“What are you doing?” Din asked in confusion.

“These dragons are hunted for their pearls,” she said, plucking three fat circles from its back. They glimmered in the suns’ light as she held them up for Din to see. “They’re worth a helluva lot,” Din was still in a state of astonishment and disarray - even as she placed the three pearls in his gloved hand. “You fought well, by the way, flyboy,” she said, tapping the side of his helmet twice before she began to make her way back down their intended path.

Din lingered as he tried to process everything. “Wait, hang on a second-” Din rushed after her and grabbed her arm, halting her in place. “Am I supposed to just move on like that didn’t just happen? Like you didn’t just-just-”

“Just what?”

“Lift a dragon into the air with your bare hands,” Din emphasized as if it were obvious. “People don’t just do that where I come from.”

Asara shook her head with a smile. “You’re right. They don’t. Which is why explaining it to you is pointless.” she dismissed and tried to walk away only for Din to grab her arm again.

“You saved my life.” he said. “Why?”

“So many questions, Mandalorian, and yet so little time to answer them,” Asara tried to walk away again but Din held onto her arm.

“Why?” he asked, much softer this time.

Asara looked up at him and it felt as though she was staring straight into his soul. She sighed before answering. “You don’t deserve to die.” she said simply. “Besides, when it came down to it…you tried to save me.” Din’s breath hitched in his throat. “Awfully strange thing for a bounty hunter to do. I thought I’d return the favour.”

Din released her arm after that, allowing her to continue walking.

“Are you a Jedi?” his question made her pause. She didn’t turn to face him - not fully. “I don’t know much about them. But I know they had…magic of some kind. Magic like…that.”

Asara took a while to answer - so long that Din thought she wasn’t even going to.

“I’m not a Jedi,” she said with a hint of sadness that made Din all the more curious. She carried on walking after that, giving him only seconds to catch up with her as she walked briskly ahead.

“W-What else can you do?”

“What now, flyboy?” Asara drawled dramatically with a sigh. The nickname was already sticking and Din didn’t like it. It all felt too…friendly for a bounty.

“You can lift things in the air - so what else can you do?”

“That’s a pretty big question. I can brew grog, I can sing somewhat good if I’m pissed enough, crik, I can fly any ship you want me to if you ask nicely-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Din groaned at her antics - deep down, however, he could tell it was growing on him. “What else can you do like that?”

“Why the sudden interest?” she asked with a raised brow as she looked at him from the corner of her eye. The two walked in stride together now as Din finally caught up.

“I think my sudden interest is justified,”

“I think you’re contradicting your own philosophy,” she teased. “You’re not getting paid extra to know this.” she reminded him.

“I know,” he finally gave up his pride. After the near-death experience, he felt that he might as well. “But I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to know.”

Asara smiled to herself and shook her head. “Fine. What else can I do like that?” she repeated his words with a coy smile. “I can sense things - objects, things moving. It’s how I walk so easily.”

“I knew it…” Din mumbled under his breath. Asara chuckled. “Do you have super hearing too?”

“Now that’s just from being blind,” she wagged her finger at him jokingly. “I can also…” she hesitated, piquing Din’s intrigue.

“Also what?”

“You know about Jedi magic, right?” she used the word with a humoured smile. Din nodded. “Do you know about Jedi mind tricks then?”

“I’ve heard stories,”

“Hm,” Asara mused to herself. “Well, I can do that too,”

“You can control people’s minds?” Din asked incredulously. “Is that why the Empire want you?”

Asara stopped walking and paused, her brow furrowed. She looked over at Din with sad eyes as he paused too.

“Something like that,”

Her lack of explanation was beginning to irritate him. He wanted to know more before it was too late. The handover was beginning to appear more daunting than any other. He almost felt like he didn’t even want to anymore. He had to remind himself of the ten million credits that awaited him at the end of all this.

“Ten million credits seems pretty pricey for a Jedi,”

“I’m not a Jedi,” she coolly corrected him. “Never have been, never will,”

“But you said-”

“I didn’t say I was one. I just said I could do what they do.” Din could sense that it was a touchy subject for her, but he craved to know more. He couldn’t help himself.

“Your bounty…” he trailed off. “What is it really for?”

The softness of his tone surprised Asara who forced herself to keep walking and focus on the path ahead. She was surprised the reason for her bounty hadn’t been released on her puck. But then again, she realised if people knew who she was - even after what she had done to rectify it - then there were plenty who would kill her themselves rather than the Empire.

“I pissed them off,” she dismissed. “Simple as,”

“Simple?” Din scoffed. “You’re anything but simple,”

Asara smiled briefly at his words, and Din couldn’t help a small smile of his own find its way onto his face. “They took everything from me. The Empire. I got my own back and then some. What I did…” she sighed deeply.

“Are you with the Resistance?” he asked, trying to help her get it out.

“I’m not with anyone,” she shook her head. “I told you, remember? I’m nobody. That’s not gonna change.”

Din felt pity fill his chest as the suns’ light caught her saddened features. He could almost feel her sorrow and her pain.

As the two climbed up a steep ridge leading them out of the gorge the Jawas large vehicle finally came into their sights. Din let out a breath of relief.

“I suggest you let me do the talking, flyboy,” Asara’s smirk finally returned. “If you want your parts back, that is.”

“Lead the way,” he said, motioning to the small decline ahead of them. He felt less ridiculous knowing Asara could sense his movements. Asara began to slip down towards the large mass and Din followed close behind.

“Hold up,” she said, sticking her arm out so Din wouldn’t walk past her. “Jawa!” she shouted loudly up at the vehicle. Her voice echoed across the expanse of the desert and Din almost had to cover his ears.

A small scuffle could be heard inside the vehicle before multiple Jawa poked their heads out of the windows on the side.

“Eyeta,” she called up, motioning to her and Din. “Etee uwanna waa.”

The Jawa began to argue with each other for a few moments before a hatch opened near the bottom of the vehicle. A group of the small creatures waddled out and over to the two cautiously with their weapons raised.

“Eyeta,” Asara repeated calmy. “Ny shootgawa.” The Jawa replied in their tongue but Din couldn’t fully pick up what they were saying to each other. “Yukusu kenza keena,” she proposed. “Uwanna reve.”

The Jawa replied once more and Asara sighed with a roll of her eyes.

“What is it? What are they saying?” Din asked - desperate to be involved. Asara held her hand up as she listened to the other Jawa intently. “What?”

“They want payment for the ship parts.”

“But it’s my ship, dank farrik!” Din protested, reaching for his blaster. The Jawa immediately raised their own, making Asara grit her teeth as she turned to grip his arm. She shoved the blaster back into his holster harshly as she she stood chest to chest with him.

“They’re traders. They aren’t just going to give it back. Now keep your blaster in your pants, bounty hunter,” she warned, pushing the blaster even further into the holster. Din grunted at the sensation. “And let me do my thing,”

She spun back around to face the Jawa who began to ramble about how unprofessional Din was. She waved them off with a nod of agreement.

“Mob un loo?” she asked them, only to scoff at their reply. “M’gasha.”

The Jawa began to argue with Asara but her cool demeanour didn’t waver.

“Hey, flyboy, give me one of those pearls I gave you,” she said, extending her arm behind her. Din complied, fishing it out of his pocket and into her hand. She threw the small pearl expertly into one of their small hands causing the group to flood around it to inspect it. “Uwanna?” The Jawa frantically nodded. “Umka.” she ordered, motioning for them to follow her as she began to lead them back the way they came.

“Now what are we doing?” Din asked in confusion as the vehicle finally started to move behind them. “Did you make the deal?”

“I’m working on it,” she reassured. “Calm your exhaust port, would’ya? You’re making me nervous.” If the stakes werent so high, Din would have laughed. “The Jawa avoid conflict wherever possible. Killing a Krayt is something they would never even dream of. But we just so happen to know the whereabouts of a fresh one,” she winked at Din who was - by all means - impressed. “Sabioto!” she shouted as they approached the corpse.

The Jawa filed out of the hatch one by one and huddled together again.

“Etee uwanna waa.” she pointed to the krayt which lay on the ground and then back to the vehicle. “Reve, tandi kwa.”

The Jawa considered her offer, mumbling to each other inaudibly before one let out a shrill ‘Keena!’. Asara clapped her hands with a proud smile on her face.

“Did it work?” Din asked hopefully. Asara nodded her head, patting Din’s metal shoulder.

“It worked. You’re welcome, by the way. They’re usually more stubborn than that,”

“You’ve traded with them before?” he asked quizzically.

“Once or twice.” she shrugged nonchalantly. “But blue milk doesn’t compare to that beast,” she smiled over at the Krayt dragon which was being picked apart by little hands. “They’ll fix your ship too, by the way. Out of pity more than anything.”

“What makes you say that?”

“They were talking about whether the shiny man cries steel,” she informed him with a smirk. “Most of them didn’t want to find out.”

Din scoffed and rolled his eyes at her words, but couldn’t help smile in relief at the information.

“C’mon, we can get on the back so we don’t have to walk,” she said reaching for his shoulder so she could lead him. “We’ll be off this planet sooner than you know,”

Her words were meant to comfort him, but strangely they only invoked a sense of dread.

“The Empire…they really want you dead, huh?” Asara chuckled sadly at Din’s words. Her head drooped as she thought of her fate.

“I don’t think they want me dead. Not yet, at least. They’re gonna make me pay first.” she lamented sadly. Din felt a twinge in his heart at the thought of her being tortured, and found himself hoping her death was - at the very least - short. “I’ve been running too long. It’s not like I have anything to live for anyway.”

Din nodded in understanding, allowing a rather morbid silence fall over them both. The motor rumbled loudly and jiggled their bodies as it started to move. Nothing more was said on the journey back as they grew closer to the inevitable.

Eventually, they arrived at the empty ship, and watched as the Jawa began to methodically put each part they had stolen back in its place. Din had let Asara have some time alone, perched on top of a boulder staring blankly out at the night sky.

He watched her from the ship, battling with himself on what to do next. So much had changed in such little time. This bounty had saved his life. This bounty who had numerous chances to flee, stayed.

A Jawa tugged on his sleeve, pointing at the now complete ship. He stuck his thumbs up at the Jawa who waved him off, muttering something offensive about Din before he returned to his own vehicle.

Din looked at Asara’s peaceful form for another minute before forcing himself to go over. “Asara,” he said softly. “They’re done.”

Asara breathed in deeply - taking in the cool night air of Tatooine one last time - before she jumped down off of the rock and made her way back to the Razor Crest.

“Taa baa.” she said to one of the Jawa who waddled out of the ship. The creature let out a noise in response before shuffling away. Asara waited for it to disappear. “That’s one thing I won’t miss…” she jested, chuckling to herself. Din couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

He led her inside with his hand on the small of her back. He could almost feel her warmth through his gloves, but he shook his head at the thought.

“Quite a nice ship you’ve got here, when it’s not completely dismembered,” she joked as she turned her head as if to look around. “Spacious.”

Din scoffed with a smile. “You could say that,” he said as he guided her to the chair beside his own. He settled in slowly - not wanting to rush - and flicked numerous switches until the ship blinked awake. It purred as it slowly began to ascend into the dark sky, reaching the stratosphere within seconds.

Asara didn’t have any quick quips or jokes as the starry sheet of black engulfed them. Morbid silence befell them instead. She sat upright, staring blankly ahead of her as reality began to kick in.

Before she had seemed fearless, accepting - now, she felt fear slowly begin to consume her.

Din cast his gaze back to her - looking at her forlorn expression as they travelled further and further away from Tatooine and into the inky void.

He didn’t know what to say - didn’t know what he could say. For the first time in his life, he began to doubt himself. He thought back to when she had killed the Krayt - stood poised and fearless as she lifted it up into the air. He thought back to when she had brought him food despite the fact that his only purpose was to capture her. He looked back at her sad face once more before made up his mind.

“The Imps…” Asara broke the silence with a weak voice. “Where are they hiding?”

“Corellia.”

Asara couldn’t help but laugh at his answer. “All the places in the Galaxy and they pick the shittiest,” she shook her head - humoured. “Suits ‘em.”

Din hummed in agreement but couldn’t bring himself to say much more.

“What’s your name, flyboy?” she broke the silence again, taking Din by surprise.

“My-My name?”

“Yes, your name.” she repeated. “You’ve got one, surely?” she asked with a smile.

“I…” Din faltered. “I can’t tell you,”

Asara frowned. “How come?”

“I…” he struggled to find the words. “I just can’t.”

“Oh…” Asara said with such genuine sadness it almost made Din blurt it out. He wanted to apologise, but he forced himself to stay quiet. “Guess flyboy will have to do then.”

His grip tightened on the sticks as he punched in the coordinates silently. The ship jolted as it was sent into hyperdrive.

The journey felt too short as Din entered the atmosphere of the planet, landing his ship in one of the landing bays. The door opened with a hiss shortly thereafter. “This isn’t Corellia…” Asara said in a confused tone, brow furrowed. “It stinks like Coruscant.”

“Go…” he muttered lowly - almost completely inaudible through his helmet. Asara didn’t respond. She was too much in shock to even comprehend an answer.

“Mando…”

“Go.” he said with more force, finally turning to face her. She looked perplexed, and strangely forlorn. “I’m letting you go, now get out.”

“W-Why?” she asked with a furrowed brow. “I’m worth ten million, you could-”

“Just leave. Please.” he pleaded - almost as if he didn’t trust himself, as if he would do something he would regret. Asara could sense this, and stood. Din followed suit.

Asara moved closer to him, staring straight through his visor with sorrowful eyes.

“If they find out what you’ve done…” she trailed off, worry etched on her face. “You’d risk that? For me?”

Part of her feared that this might be some cruel trick - that he would pull his blaster on her as soon as she turned her back. But part of her knew that this Mandalorian wasn’t like that. There was honour there - honour which no other bounty hunter she had encountered had.

“Yes…” he replied weakly, looking down at the ground. He didn’t understand why this was so hard. He didn’t understand why he didn’t want her to even leave. “Now go.”

Asara inhaled deeply before she placed her hand on the cool metal of his chest. Din looked down at her hand in surprise. She seemed conflicted as she tried to find the right words. Din expected a quip or a joke, but found nothing but sincerity.

“Thank you…” she whispered, leaning her head forward so her forehead touched the cool metal of his helmet. The two remained still for a few moments as they tried to process what was happening.

Before Asara could turn fully away, Din grasped her hand. “Asara,” he said before he could comprehend anything else to follow up with. “They won’t stop.”

“I know,” she nodded with a sad smile. “But that’s part of the fun, flyboy.” She sent him a sad smile as she pulled away from him and made her way to the ladder. She paused just before she was out of his view. “Y’know…it’s funny. With you…” Din clung to her next words desperately. “I almost felt like I could be somebody.”

Din’s shoulders sagged as she slipped from his sights and out into the populated streets of Coruscant.

Din stood alone for what felt like an eternity before he forced himself to sit back down in his chair, and set the coordinates for his next bounty.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x oc #din djarin x you #din djarin x female oc #din djarin x female reader #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x oc #star wars imagines #star wars oc

[iamapuffhuffle]

There is a Heart under that Beskar

Pairing: Mando (Din Djarin) x Fem!OC

Part 1 Warnings: Violence, Kidnapping.

A/N: I haven't posted anything in a long time, but I usually write on my spare time. My writing has changed over the years. Idk if this is any good.

Living on Deso. Isnt ideal but it's the best I can do. The last planet I've been on was Wolla. The planet and and my mother went to after leaving our home.

But for the last 2 years bring herbs and medicine I made to the near by city from the small village I've been living in is a two day walk. A long journey but I get a lot of credits from the sales.

Slinging my satchel over my shoulder, moving my braid out of the way, and placing my staff onto my back holster. Just in case of any dangers. Heading out the door, and greeting the locals, some stopping me to buy some herbs.

I just started my journey walking on the trail through the forest, only walking a few miles before reaching a clearing of the forest into the short grass meadows where the dirt trail ends and where only memory can help me getting to the city, but I see something. Something that I only heard tales of them.

A Mandalorian. I grip my bag. They are here for a reason. For me. Nonsense, I haven't seen anyone in years. I cautiously move closer, seeing that they aren't moving. Are they dead?

I continued walking, trying to avoid the body that lies still, trying to not to feel guilty. Feeling the wind blow though my auburn hair, feeling goosebumps forming. Causing me to halt, bringing my head down. Turning myself around, stomping towards the Mandalorian. "What am I getting myself in to?"

Placing the Mandalorian onto my patient's mat. I checked his pulse and there is one, and it's normal. I attempt to awake them, but nothing, maybe a head injury. I place my hands onto the helmet and slowly pulled it upwards, before I knew it, I was flung backwards onto the ground.

I look up to see a blaster aimed at my face. "I'm sorry." Way the only words I could speak. The Mandalorian towering over me. My heart could just stop from fear.

“Where am I!” He yells.

“My house, I found you, outside of the woods. I brought you here.”

What felt like forever we stared at each other. He groans almost silently as his legs gives out. He catches himself on one knee. Before dropping forward.

"What the..."

After a few hours of watching over the Mandalorian. He seems to be malnourished, but the herbs that they need is to be fully chewed before swallowing, so I need to wait until he awakes.

He awakes and I give him the bowl. "That will help you. You are malnourished." I watch but It took a minute for me to realize, that he is waiting for me to leave. They can't take off their helmets? "I'll just hang the laundry." I got up and grabbed the basket and went outside.

As I hung my sheets onto the wire. I felt a presence behind me. "The herbs will have you feeling better, you need to keep taking them for a few more days. I will pack you some, then you will be on your way."

"I want to apologize. I thought you were the bounty I'm after, a doctor that is taking people."

"Thank you for not shooting me. Also I didn't see your face, nor took off your helmet."

I head inside to grab the bundle of herbs I already prepared. "Here. I need to head to the city now, to make some credits." I said as I grabbed my bag.

He nods at me and heads out the door.

Three days later. Mando is still searching for his bounty. Walking through the forest to where the tracker is pointing towards. He sees an objects, he picks up a carry bag. He remembers that the woman that helped him has the same bag. It looks like blaster was shot into it He looks around seeing no traces of blood. But the seen displays there was a fight.

This is unfair. I don't get caught by bounty hunters but by a crazy doctor. Having both of my arms chained to a cave wall. Only if I could have fought with my staff, maybe I could have got away. I'm a horrible shot with a blaster.

Am I going to make it out alive, I heard many screams deeper in the cave. A few other kinds of races were taking too. As the Iktotchi doctor came back into the cave with another victim. They dropped them next to me and chained up their arms. Then a flash went off. Chaos surrounded the cave, others were yelling. I heard a blaster shots go off.

It got quiet but steps got closer, I coward away not wanting them to come closer. "I'm going to take the chains off." A familiar voice spoke, Looking up to see the Mandalorian. He helps me up, I feel light headed. I need water badly. We free the other captives. Mando leads the doctor in handcuffs. We exist the cave. Seeing sunlight in a few days.

He tosses me my blaster and electric staff. I speak with a rasp, "Just carry the blaster, mostly for show or emergencies, don't know how to shoot, I’m best with combat. My mom taught me the best she could."

They head to the village. The villagers provide water and meals to others who don't live in the area. As Mando is watching over the survivors before taking his bounty in his ship. I walk over to the Mandalorian and hesitant before hugging the armored man. He tenses up, "Thank you, thank you. Mando." I let go of the man.

"No need. I got my bounty."

"But you still freed them, me" I stared into the visor, not believing the words he spoke, "You still have a heart, deep in that armor and a brain until the helmet. That's something. You still taking the herbs?"

He nods to me before heading into his ship.

"Good. My name is Yas by the way." watches as Mando ships leaves. Why tell him my name if we will never meet again.

#mando x original female character #star wars #the mandalorian #mando #fanfic