#MANDO X ORIGINAL CHARACTER

[lovelessdagger]

Starlight -Chapter 38: Losing Dogs

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Implied Sexual Content. Graphic Death of an Animal.

Words: 3.5k

Summary:  He fears the brink of insanity.

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The morning is slow and Din Djarin remains at the foot of the throne room’s sweeping staircase until the suns beam inside. Occasionally he removes his helmet for a drink of water, or a bite of fruit spears stolen from the kitchen.

The Darksaber is displaced from his hip, chucked some twenty feet away at the base of the throne.

He fears the brink of insanity.

What a king he will make…

He’s fallen asleep thrice, each waking a startled jump. Intruders have been the Gamorreans, and the last time the wookie Krrsantan. None paid him any mind, though he suspects the wookie to be less impressed by his deprived state.

While the room is still dark, he stares at the ceiling and sees nothing. He feels claustrophobia crushing his lungs. The coming light proves the stone an untouchable barrier high above.

Better it all just collapse.

The image of her is burned into his mind. Asleep, quiet, content. He feels sick and wishes for a migraine. After a while, his water tastes like poison.

He blames her. He shouldn’t. He does.

Thing could’ve been fine. A release. A relief.

A sick closure. 

They acted too casually. Too normal. They’d forgotten, he’d forgotten. He’s meant to not need her, want her. She’s supposed to be awful. Some lie. Something changed. Maybe she is, changed into something more caring, more willing to help, smarter, more aware—no, he’s meant to see her as worse.

Fuck.

Is it his place his cry? To be upset? Maybe not. Emotions are untethered.

He doesn’t want to love her, the root of the issue.

Maybe there’s a feeling of obligation.

Were he asked, without thinking Din would say he didn’t. Doesn’t.

He doesn’t love Lumina.

Doing so means too much. He’s strong. He is mandalorian, but he’s also scared. 

There are too many variables.

Maybe he isn’t okay.

“You’re up early.” Fennec says, coming down the stairs. “Don’t tell me you’ve been down here all night.”

“No,” Din coughs. “No not all night.” He stands and his knees wobble. “I’ve been thinking… I don’t think it’s wise I go to Freetown.”

“Why’s that?”

He hesitates. “You can’t understand the kind of position I’m in just by being here…”

Fennec rolls her eyes. “You sound like Bo-Katan.”

“Is that wrong?”

“It is when neither of you can make up your mind. If you hate her you are at your mercy to do so. If you’d rather never see her again, do not. I gave you a choice. I don’t care about your feelings, I care that you can do a job. One job. Are you telling me now, that you are incapable?”

“I’m telling you it isn’t logical, and my personal reasons for that aren’t your concern.”

“Your intentions are precisely my concern. She is the heir of this palace, these territories, the sand you stand on. In the eyes of the Daimyo, that girl is worth more than any treasure in reserves. I am committed to her safety and wellbeing. What you need to understand is that we are balancing on a precarious line and you, are a wind I seem to have underestimated. You blow too hard.”

He swallows. “What kind of line are we talking about?”

“Go to Freetown,” Fennec says. “Look for it.”

---

A half hour past suns rise, Lumina emerges to the outdoor hangar with faltered step. She drags her newly finished bike, a Gamorrean moving a second for Din. He chooses not to comment on anything; her dark circles, or the remnants of the Imperial uniform on her body: A bodysuit, empty vambraces and holsters, a red cloth wrapped around her forearm. Her lightsaber dangles from her hip.

On closer look, he thinks her hair is shorter as well, just above her shoulder instead of just past. 

She thanks the guard in Huttese, he bows.

Fennec steps out in exchange for the boar with a long locked gray case. Their exchanged words are softer than what can be made out. The back and forth is short but brings them knelt to the ground with the case opened.

Her weapons, Din realizes quickly. Daggers, blasters, detonators. A rifle half the size of her body. She fills her pockets with possible destruction and slings the firepuncher over her back.

She’s overdressed for the occasion, certainly a diplomatic one, but Din also stands with his own rifle, spear, and jetpack.

They’re too similar.

Last, she’s handed a small pack, attached to the back of her speeder seat.

A cloak, a water canteen, few rations, the treaty.

Fennec tells her to be smart, loud enough to know Din would hear. In response, Lumina slides on a pair of gloves. She straddles her bike and pulls on her helmet.

Fennec says his name: “Din.”

Lumina drives away.

He follows

---

She leads drive in total silence as twin suns burn their covered skin. When they begin to reach their peak in the sky, Din connects to the channel in her helmet.

He suggests they pull off to rest, eat, relieve themselves. He’s familiar with the trail they journey, and they’re approaching a tribe of local Tuskens. He says they’re friendly people and would surely grant them safety.

“What do you say?” he asks. “What do you think?”

She pulls back, allowing him to take the lead.

The stay is short. Two hours at most. They ask if she is an unspoken, a mute. In response, Lumina rubs her stomach:

Sick.

---

They arrive to Freetown sometime in the late afternoon, speeders skidding to a halt. Lumina disembarks with an effortless air of cool, shaking her head free of the helmet. An unfamiliar face, claiming himself to be deputy, greets the pair.

“Howdy ma’am,” he says, tipping his hat. “Might I ask your business here in this town?”

“We’re here to speak with Marshal Vanth,” Din answers.

“The Marshal ain’t taking visitors,” he says. “Not til I vet ‘em at least.”

Lumina’s fist bunches at her side, Din steps up. “Why don’t you get the Marshal before something happens?”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s advice. Take it.”

“Now listen here—”

“Stand down, Deputy.” Cobb Vanth, unmistakable arrogant swagger in his step. “These fine folk mean no harm.” He shrugs. “Far as I can tell anyway.” He takes Lumina’s hand, pressing a kiss to the back. “Lady Fett,” he greets. “Pleasure to see you again. I apologize for my… deputy there. He’s new. You understand.”

“I expect to be treated with more respect than an interrogation Marshal.” She removes her hand. “If you wish to continue having a deputy, you’ll correct his error.”

His tongue clicks. “Yes ma’am. Should I grovel for forgiveness now or later?”

“Don’t tempt me.” She walks past him. “How are the new water sourcers working out?”

“Better than great.”

“And the bordering trade routes?”

“They cause no trouble. I’ve got men keeping eye, no Pykes, no spice.” Cobb seems to just now catch attention onto Din, awkward in position by Lumina’s bike. “Well I’ll be damned,” he says. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever show your mug round these parts again.”

Din nods. “Marshal.”

“Cobb.”

“Cobb. Haven’t seen you since you gave up the armor. How’ve you been?”

“More careful. What brings you up here? Didn’t take you as a diplomat, Mando.”

“Din. And… I’m not.” Lumina freezes up ahead, Cobb follows his line. “Just thought I’d tag along.”

The Marshal looks back, pointing, Really? he mouths. He whistles. His eyes ask, How’s that working out?

Din’s head shakes. “Her folks thought you’d need some sweet talking.”

“Is that right?” He chuckles. “They worried that much?”

“Not for you.”

Cobb nods, pensive. “We get along just fine, me and her. She and her old man, they come round every now and then.”

“Is that so?”

“Sure is. Wanted to thank the fella who kept the armor safe. Should’ve guessed you knew em too… Can I ask you something?”

“Course.”

“You trust them?” Cobb asks. “I mean really trust em. You gotta understand it’s more than myself I gotta look out for here. This town depends on me, and putting our faith in some city sluggers that ain’t even from here… it’s a hell of a plea. Either way this turns, I gotta be sure I ain’t making a mistake.”

“I’ve read the deal she wrote, ’s better than good.”

“But do you trust them?”

He doesn’t know why he says, “I do.”

---

Negotiations take upwards of three hours. As expected, the Marshal pushes against proposed taxation rates, he mocks the idea of a tribute.

Din is convinced Lumina was made for the Senate. Some great politician or lawyer. She understands policy like it is art, she gives where she needs but holds strong.

He feels the Darksaber on his hip and is reminded of Boba Fett’s words. “You first taste of politics coming from an expert…”

If this is his future, he is wholly unprepared.

Though any aide from the Fetts going forward seems nonexistent.

“So we’re at an agreement?” Lumina asks, hands folded on the table. 

Cobb blows out hot air from puffed cheeks. “It would seem so.”

She doesn’t smile until he signs, and even then carries the emotion with calculation.

They shake hands.

“Freetown is now under the sworn protection of the Daimyo of Mos Espa and the Fett name,” she says. “Congratulations Marshal Vanth.”

---

By nightfall, the people of Freetown host a celebration. They are kind and generous. They build a fire outside town and share their roast. The children are polite, the adults respectful.

She is especially kind and Din’s stomach turns for expecting otherwise.

They sit on opposite sides of the fire. She entertains babbles of the young, though he is unsure whether she understands at all.

The Force, he remembers; translations of emotion through the mind, as Ahsoka had explained with Grogu. That must be it.

Lumina doesn’t smile, she doesn’t attempt one either. But she nods along, pats a shoulder, and closes her eyes every now and then.

They offer her food and she does not take.

They ask why.

She gives the same excuse.

Sick.

He can’t remember if she ate the night before and debates interjection.

Ultimately, he decides it to not be his place.

---

Din watches Lumina like she were an animal behind a cage and still continued to fear that she may indeed someday break loose. His face is warped by the fire and she tries to look at him as little as possible, but she is not as strong as she would like to believe.

Or, she is just as weak as she knows to be.

Either is an accurate assessment.

It is her fault, she thinks, truly at the end of it all. She is meant to be better. Unattached. Expectant of the worst.

And yet—

Feeling is overwhelming, but she isn’t sure what this is.

It may be love, the nasty effects of it. The long lasting resentment and care.

Tatooine has gone to the dogs and she has taken her place among them.

It isn’t her fault he carried too much faith, she warned him after all. He should have known.

He should have.

And maybe she isn’t so awful, maybe he should have tread more careful in worship. Maybe she is worth something. Maybe the hounds aren’t all bad.

She looks at the Mandalorian. 

He stands. He leaves.

She thinks too much.

---

Din picks apart half a roasted rib in his own solitude from the crowd. The meat is wet, he feels a cannibal with juices dripped down his chin. 

In the nearer distance, he faces subjection to a grouping of animals and their screams. His helmet locks on just as Lumina rises over the nearest sand dunes apex. Marshal Vanth calls for a retreat at her side. The shouts comes again, echoing in the night air.

They each grip the sabers swinging on their hips.

Lumina skids down the sand with skilled precision. She reminds him of a blood sniffer, turning her head one way to the other.

“What is it?” he asks.

“We call it Devil’s Hound,” the Marshal says. “Predators of the land… it’s best to retreat.”

Her hand raises. “Sh.”

The wind blows, she takes off running.

Din swears and chases.

---

“Lumina. Lumina!”

Head first into darkness, the moon’s lights guide through blindness.

He catches up when she stops and is only slightly out of breath. Din follows a blood speck trail stretching from the edge of his vision to a creature a quarter her size laid on the sand. She stands over the body, four feet from him.

They hear Marshal Vanth, fuzzed in the background, calling them away.

“Lu,” Din says.

“She’s hurt.”

Her first words to him in seventeen hours: She’s hurt.

She’d heard it, the in fighting, of course she had. The terrorized yelps had only hit Din’s ears when she appeared over the dune. 

He gets a better look at the animal, an anooba. The runt of its litter if size if anything to go by, bleeding from its ribs and neck. Its gray fur looks black with the lack of light, and the blood an oil spill.

Lumina crouches by the animals head, slowly reaching out. It wheezes, strangled grunts fighting the affection.

“Don’t,” Din says with no fight in his voice.

“You poor thing…” Gently, she rubs the anooba’s muzzle, guiding up its cheek. “Do you have a light?” she asks Din. “It might not be that bad.”

He reaches in his pockets, the small torch attachment to his helmet fumbling out. He bangs the hold against his palm. “There’s no charge,” he says. “Haven’t needed it since—”

“Give it.” She holds out her hand.

“It doesn’t work.”

She doesn’t budge. She hits her palm to the metal all the same, frowning. “C’mon,” she mumbles, pulling off the top. She twists the lightbulb out of its socket, rubbing her thumb over its base and electrical contact. “Put pressure on her wound, help stop the bleeding.“

“Lu—”

They both know what he’s attempting to say. The animal is unknown, possibly rabid, dangerous. It’s too small, its breathing is already shortening.

Anooba’s travel in packs, there’s a reason it was left behind.

“She’s just a baby,” Lumina says. “Give her a chance.”

In coming days he’ll wonder what could have happened differently had he not hesitated now.

He’s selfish enough to believe this is all another ploy at first. An attempt to turn his perspective, another manipulation of character. She knows all too well the image painted within the desert. She must.

 But then Din looks at her, really looks at her. She’s sitting with the anooba—this thing called evil with no evidence—its head panting on her lap.

He’s reminded of the word.

Sick.

Lumina won’t let go of the lightbulb. She’s muttering and growing more frustrated and she won’t let go. They stand on the line.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

As life fades from the creature eyes, Din catches a flicker of light from her palm.

He never tells her.

He is resolved to himself, his guilt, and his love.

---

They are.

She is.

But so is he.

In that, there is comfort.

Perhaps peace.

In time, forgiveness.

---

The Marshal tells them there’s only one spare room, neither are sure if he’s lying but they don’t push. Lumina spends ages at the fresher sink, washing away blood. Din strips himself of armor.

They make do.

“I can stay outside,” he suggests. “Keep watch.”

“For what?”

He shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed.

They don’t do well with silence.

“I’m sorry.”

Exhibit A.

Lumina shrugs. “I deserved it.”

He says her name.

She steps in-between his legs, taking off his helmet. The hissing lacks its usual terror in her soul. His as well. “I ruined your life. You fucked me and left. It’s okay, I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, whispered. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” His head leans against her stomach, his eyes shut tight. “Gods I’m so sorry.”

She almost warns against his prayer, but it is proof of her. Of them. She wants to say it’s okay again, that she would leave herself if given the chance.

Lumina considers the possibility that she is becoming kind by not saying anything at all.

She pets his hair.

“You hurt me,” she says. “On purpose. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I got scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of everything.” She feels his mouth open, close, and open again. “I have to protect the kid.”

“From me.”

“No. You’re the reason he’s alive. I know you wouldn’t hurt him but… I don’t want him to end up like you. I have to protect him the way someone should have protected you. You—You’re so unhappy. All the time. I don’t know if you’ve ever been happy.”

“I was happy on Naboo.”

“You almost drowned yourself.”

“I can’t swim.” She shrugs. “I wanted to go while things were still good.”

Din swears. He looks up at her with wide brown eyes, his chin on her stomach. She cups his jaw.

“I’m happy with Boba,” Lumina says. “I’m happy being outside… I was happy with you. I was always happy with you. Happy with your kid. I never taught him anything bad. Ever. You have to believe that.”

“I do. But I need the kid to be happy Lu, I need that. He needs that. I can’t have him growing up and not be able to have doors to his room, or set knives at the table. I can’t be scared that someday he’s just gonna… What happened between us… I didn’t mean to—not that I regret it. I don’t, and I shouldn’t have left, and I do—” he stops short. “I do——I do. But I can’t. I can’t. I can’t let you back in. I don’t know what’s happening to you, but I won’t put the kid through it. I won’t let him watch you fade. I’m sorry.”

Lumina leans over, dragging Din into a gentle kiss. “I understand.”

---

They don’t mean to go longer. They don’t mean to undress. They don’t mean to repeat mistakes.

Or they do.

The longer the night goes, they do.

They mean every bit.

---

There is a certain exhaustion which comes with the onset of perpetual grief. It is all encapsulating, a black lace veil over the vision of life. Lumina, through all her years of grief has known nothing but exhaustion. For the life of her, she cannot imagine a life without.

That is why the dark is comforting. In a literal and spiritual sense. The dark side, that being of the Force, is her sole provider, the fuel of her life. She is pained and miserable, but finds it a comforting sign she is aware enough to still recognize pain.

She is not totally lost, only misguided.

The literal darkness is less neurotic, though more a psychology. She can’t see in front of her face, much less her company to the left, so she considers the situation an overall win.

Yes there is darkness, yes she alone, yes she is burdened. This is normal, though she wishes it weren’t. 

Her wrist hurts.

So does the rest, but the former is a constant reminder.

It’s a little ironic. The strength of a Sith comes in total control and she is uncontrollable. She is a panic. She is unknown. She is abstract. She is unexplained.

A genetic miracle. A clone. A strandcast. A theoretical image of optimal health and appearance.

She shouldn’t feel so worthless.

Out of all the possible paths of life placed in front, she has chosen in error, the worst of them. No power. No family. No being. Mere existence feels selfish without purpose now. She was created for a purpose. Or so she assumes. Born of a darkness, forever trapped.

Escaping feels more a futile effort now more than ever.

Though she’d like to stop crying. 

Briefly she wonders if she is meant to be pretty when in that emotion as well.

As said before, everything is exhausting.

Everyday she takes on the new infections of illness. A light head when standing, a cough, fatigue, dizziness. She can’t stand for long, fighting became out of the question months ago.

Her skin is too tight on her bones. She can’t breathe. She can’t stop shaking. Her heart pounds.

This may be another aspect of sickness.

The end, if she has anything to say about it.

Something has to change.

She refuses to be found here.

---

The room is left tidy. Her escape is simple and discreet.

---

Din wakes up alone as sunlight beams into the bedroom. Half the bed is made, aside from himself it looks as though it had never been slept in. The other side is cold.

He dresses slow.

He worries. He worries after the fresher is found empty and dry. He worries when Cobb says he hasn’t seen her. He worries when the Weequay points out her missing bike. He worries until he’s handed a note left inside the cantina.

“Everything alright?” Cobb asks.

“Yeah…” he says. “Everything’s fine.” 

The eight hour drive back to Mos Espa late that morning takes a millennia. Scribed aurebesh burns a hole in his pocket:

Gone to where you’d hunt me.

Saying goodbye.

L.

--------

Chapter 39: Pyre (Interlude)

-------

Taglist: @lexloon​ @jay-bel​ @xsadderdazeforeverx​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny​ @hello-th3r3​

[wrathkitty]

Short Debts Make Long Friends - Chapter 24 Snippet

The tribe’s opinion of you generally fell into one of three categories: 

Paz, who despised you. 

The Armorer, who tolerated you.

And those who saw you as a harmless oddity who was welcome to stay so long as she continued minding the children — which had turned into therapy from day one, no matter how much anyone tried to pretend it was babysitting. All of the Foundlings lost family during the fall of the Empire. You weren’t encouraging them to draw pictures of their loved ones just because you couldn't come up with anything else better to do.

Problem was, if the grownups didn’t change their approach to childrearing soon (maybe let’s worry a little less about Breha perfecting her Rising Phoenix technique and focus more on managing her anger instead), in a few years’ time the Covert was going to have a passel of dysregulated adolescents on its hands, and in a few years after that, everyone in the Outer Rim would be failing to fend off an entire generation of behavior disordered Mandalorians. 

These were concerns you shared with The Manda’lor (you made a point of intoning it as a proper noun whenever you both were alone, just to annoy him), who quietly arranged for D-5 to drill a small hole in the tribe’s communal barrel of fuel. It took a week to replenish the supply, giving you time to sneak in some basic coping skill lessons between Rising Phoenix 101. By week’s end, Breha failed her flight test and remembered to take three deep breaths before she started throwing blunt objects. And when those blunt objects turned out to be grav charges, everyone started taking the nanny a little more seriously. 

(And if teaching Zones of Regulations to the Mandalorians was how you left your mark on the universe, then you’d die happy.)

Short Debts Make Long Friends - An over-educated, underpaid millennial finally gets to go on her first adventure.

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[djarins-cyare]

Never Look Down

Part 1: Din’s Evening

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Prompt: “I don’t know what’s happening but I love it.”

Summary: Din has been ignoring his crush on Grogu’s babysitter for a while now, with varying degrees of success. But after a misunderstanding leads to some revelations, there’s no denying things any longer. Sometimes you just need to look at things from a different perspective.

Rating: Mature (18+) with a smidge of explicit

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (for his POV scenes) / Din Djarin x Reader (for her POV scenes)

Word count: 5,330

Tags/warnings: alcohol, drunkenness, vomit (no description), numerous references to erections, some swearing, references to sex, non-explicit smutty thots, Din carries OFC a short distance, masturbation (male, semi-explicit, but I don’t think enough to push up the rating), 3rd person POV (part 2 will be 2nd person POV and OFC will become reader/you).

Author’s note: This was originally supposed to be for @beskarandblasters’ Din Djarin Fic Club Drabble Event, although drabble this is not! Kel said there was no word limit, but it grew so long that I couldn’t even call it a one-shot anymore, so I’m uploading it in two parts to make it easier to read and I think that probably disqualifies it from the Drabble Event. But Kel, thank you so much anyway for the prompt – it resulted in me finally pushing through my writer’s block and finishing/uploading something new, so I’m eternally grateful!

READ ON AO3 (author’s preference)

Tumblr version ahead if you prefer…

He’s panicking. It’s stupid, really – he’s been in situations far trickier and more critical than this. But Karga said he needed help urgently, and now his babysitter isn’t answering her comlink.

Should he just go and leave Grogu here? It’s not like he never left him alone on the ship.

Except… something’s changed since the adoption. Din has started to care what others think of his parenting style. He hears people whisper that fatherhood clearly isn’t coming easily to him (he thought he was doing alright). He watches how his babysitter closely monitors every move the kid makes (the Mandalorians never watched him that closely). He listens when people talk about how they raise their own children (he hadn’t realised it was such hard work). And it’s made him feel as if he’s… lacking.

He hates feeling less than adequate in any area of his life, but somehow, failing as a father cuts deep. Perhaps it’s because he grew up without one. Plus, that scolding Peli gave him after she found Grogu alone on the Razor Crest still haunts him.

Although the Mandalorian method of letting them learn from their mistakes has merit (and it never did him any harm), he wants to be there for his son. So, no. He won’t leave Grogu here alone. He can’t risk him waking up and wondering why nobody comes if he calls. The kid has probably had enough of that in his past.

Why isn’t Maia picking up?

Din paces the cabin’s length, listening to the gentle ping of the comlink as it tries to connect with the one he gave her. Even the soothing pulse doesn’t ease his frustration. Diligent parenting is hard.

Just as he’s wondering if he can wake the kid and bring him along, the comlink crackles to life.

“—know what the stinking stang is wrong with it! Ah, frotz! Hello? Is this thing totally borked?”

For a baffling moment, he can’t work out whether he’s shocked or thrilled. She certainly doesn’t use that type of language around the kid, but he’s delighted to hear her voice nonetheless.

“Maia!” He interrupts her frustrated confusion as loud as he dares, lest he wake the sleeping child downstairs.

“Shiny, hi! It works! What’s up, my metal man? It’s late… is this a booty call?”

Once again, Din can’t decide if he’s shocked or thrilled. However, his dick’s instant twitch of interest proves that it, at least, is clearly siding with the latter. Dank farrik, he wishes it were a booty call. “No, Maia, I need—”

“Course it’s not!” she interrupts, giggling inanely. “Sorry, that was ridiculous, ignore me. Go on, you were saying?”

He takes a deep breath and tries to push past the stab of dismay at her labelling the idea of a booty call as ridiculous. At least she sounds in a happy mood.

“I’m sorry to contact you so late, but Karga has some kind of crisis. IG-11 is still with the Anzellans for repairs after the last crisis, so he’s asked for my help. Grogu’s asleep, but I’m gonna need you to come over and wait at the cabin until I return. I’ll pay you double your usual rate. I just don’t wanna leave him here alone.”

“Suuure! I’ll haul my jets over to you now. Five, ten minutes, tops. If you wanna take off now, I know your door code. I’ll check on the li’l bug as soon as I arrive.”

Din breathes a relieved sigh. “Thank you, I owe you. I shouldn’t be long.”

“Happy hunting, Beskar Boy! Or happy dispute settling!” Maia signs off with a melodic laugh that instantly makes him grin beneath his helmet, despite the stupid nickname.

The grin fades as he processes the meaning of the words preceding her addictive laughter, and he sighs. She’s probably right, although he hopes he’ll at least need his blaster for whatever mess the High Magistrate wants him to clean up.

Karga was once able to intimidate the townsfolk, but these days, they see him as purely a leader and captain of industry. They respect his ability to govern and improve the town – he’s more than proven himself capable in those roles. But whipping out a blaster from beneath those ridiculous robes now gains him little more than dubious raised eyebrows. By contrast, Cara was a fearsome and capable law enforcer, and now IG-11 keeps the citizens in line.

Except a reptavian tore off both of IG’s legs a few nights ago. Apparently, whatever the droid equivalent of ‘sick leave’ is, he’s taking it.

Din doesn’t mind helping out when he’s not on jobs for Carson. As long as Karga doesn’t solicit his help too often, it’s an easy way to make a few extra credits. He supposes that kind of makes him a part-time deputy, though he’ll never accept a title or a contract. But if tonight’s job is nothing more than a neighbour dispute, he’ll be a little peeved. His friend is aware of his skillset and wouldn’t contact him unless it required weapons and armour. He hopes.

He checks on Grogu once more, then equips himself with his usual arsenal, making sure to lock the weapons cabinet behind him. For some reason, his blasters fascinate Maia. He’s given her several shooting lessons, and she always asks to hold them whenever the cabinet’s unlocked. Although he doubts she’d handle them without his permission, he’d rather be present if she’s caressing his things.

Truthfully, he’d prefer it if she handled and caressed something else entirely, though he buries that thought for now. He has work to do, and an ill-timed hard-on would be awkward at best, if not downright perverse. He can torture himself later.

Din wraps up the problem in less than an hour. It does require his blaster, in fact, and he does have to shoot someone. Okay, it’s in the shoulder to disarm him, but the guy is only on his drunken vendetta because he’s heartbroken. He doesn’t deserve to die.

A year ago, he would’ve just shot him in the head and gone home. But he’s lived among the citizens of Nevarro for several months now, and he’s almost starting to feel like part of the community. Passing through it to visit the old covert was different. The Mandalorians were a separate (secret) colony, and he was merely a visitor who lived on his ship. Even though his new home is still on the outskirts, Grogu attends the school in town, and he already knows many of the other parents by name. These days, the market stall owners try to chat with him instead of looking away in fear as they used to.

The guy standing on a table in the cantina tonight with a blaster trained on his ex and her new flame is someone Din recognises. He can’t recall from where, but disarming rather than killing him feels like the right thing to do.

Once he has him in binders, he delivers him to Karga and hurries straight home. The lava flats are quiet and peaceful this time of night, free from the nocturnal bustle of the town and lit only by the celestial display above. There’s no sulphur fog tonight, and the air smells fresh.

But as pleasant as it is, he doesn’t dawdle. Just like every other time he’s left Maia in charge, he relishes the chance to walk into his home and see her there. As if she belongs. He finds that image far more dazzling than the constellations sparkling above him. It’s far sweeter than the fresh air he inhales through his helmet filters as he hastens toward his cabin.

He can’t pinpoint when his interest in her changed from professional to passionate. Grogu made it clear that he liked her best out of the several childminders they auditioned, so he gave her the job. At some point between then and now, he became enamoured with her.

But he can’t do anything about it.

His loyalty to his son means he can’t fuck the babysitter, so for now, Maia belongs to the kid, and Din sleeps alone.

Even though he’s had no serious relationships in the past, he imagines he’d be willing to try it with her. But since it’ll never happen, it’s not worth dwelling on. He’s noticed a few locals checking him out, so he can always approach them if he’s looking to get laid. He’s much more used to casual encounters.

But none of that stops Din from thinking his babysitter is beautiful. It doesn’t stop him from wishing he could run his hands over her welcoming body, indulge in her tender touch and heady scent, sink into her depths over and over until she’s crying out his name as they shatter together in ecstasy….

Dank farrik, he’d better quit thinking like that. He has enough trouble controlling his physical urges around her as it is. In fact, it’s starting to become a problem. He’s lost count of how many times he’s had to dash off and furtively rearrange himself so his stomach padding hides his boner. He can’t wear the flight suits with the tight pants around her anymore, so the looser-fitting ones are getting much more use. In fact, he’s wearing his last pair. (That reminds him: he needs to do laundry tomorrow.)

Maia teases him whenever she can, but it’s always friendly, not flirty, and it doesn’t come close to being sexual. He’s never caught her looking anywhere other than directly at his visor. Still, he can’t help feeling embarrassed whenever something she says or does causes his cock to harden. He simply can’t control it.

Din reaches the cabin and punches in the door code, happy to note that his guest has locked it from inside. Her diligence and attention to detail certainly helped him trust her in his home from the outset of her employment.

Stepping across the threshold, he notices all the lights are out except for the one above the kitchen sink, which is unusual. Stranger still, all it illuminates is a near-full cup of water standing in a pool of condensation.

Nonetheless, it’s bright enough for him to survey the rest of the room cast in shadowed shades of grey.

He can’t see Maia.

Instantly, his heart rate rises, although he doesn’t panic. She’s probably just in the refresher or the kid’s bedroom with him. But the amount of moisture surrounding that cup shows it’s been sitting there almost as long as he was gone, which is curious. And there’s no light coming from downstairs either.

The cabin is small, with an open-plan kitchen and living space, and a staircase leading down to two bedrooms and the refresher. Din’s priority is his son, so he creeps down the ferrocrete steps, well-practised at following the route silently. With his night vision on, he can see that Grogu’s door is open a crack, and he pushes it wider. Little purring snores verify that the kid is sleeping soundly, and he slides the door fully closed to ensure he stays that way. Good.

Since his babysitter wasn’t in that room, and she wouldn’t invade his private space without permission, there’s only one other option. He bypasses his own bedroom opposite Grogu’s and heads to the door facing him – the refresher. He can’t pick up any sounds from within, but he’s not about to invade her privacy by listening too intently. The door is fully shut, but there’s a faint glow through the ventilation grill at the bottom, too weak to be the usual lights. A glowrod?

That’s rather odd. He’s grateful that Maia avoided putting on the hall lights while Grogu’s door was ajar, but she could’ve switched on the refresher lights once inside.

For an unsettling moment, Din isn’t sure how to proceed. He really doesn’t want to interrupt her if she’s busy. But… his instincts are telling him something is off, and he wants to know she’s okay.

He’ll give her a little longer. He’d rather be cautious than a perv.

He retreats upstairs again, conducting a thorough check of the living space and kitchen but finding nothing abnormal or suspicious. Nothing besides that abandoned cup of water, at least. Next comes his nightly check of the cabin’s weak points – the windows and entryway. He secures them all, figuring he can escort Maia out when she’s ready. Tipping away the water, he runs a fresh cup, turns his back to the stairs to lift his helmet and drink, and refills it. Finally, he disarms himself of most of his weapons, leaving one blaster in its holster and his vibroblade in his boot. He likes to bring some of his usual arsenal downstairs with him, even though he has multiple spares in a secure cabinet near his bed.

Which is where he’s headed now. Din sets the drink on his nightstand, switches off his night vision, and switches on the dim bedside light. His guest has seen him armourless a few times before, so he begins removing his beskar and the rest of his kit. He’s almost finished – just his armourweave stomach padding to go – when he hears a thump from the refresher.

In seconds, he’s outside it again, listening intently for any further clues. He’s been in the business of handling unconscious bodies for decades, and that sounded like an unconscious body.

“Maia?” he tries, keeping his voice low to ensure he won’t disturb the kid.

Nothing.

He knocks gently, giving it a few moments.

Still nothing.

Okay, now he’s really starting to worry. He returns to his bedroom, grabs his vambrace, and flicks through his visual settings until he’s replaced his night vision with the thermal overlay. He hopes he isn’t crossing a line here, but what else can he do? Walking to his doorway, he takes a deep breath… and directs his visor at the refresher.

Dank farrik, she’s on the fucking floor. Why didn’t he check sooner?

Jabbing off the thermal overlay, Din throws his vambrace on the bed, then rushes to the refresher door. He keeps his voice low in case he wakes Grogu, hoping it reaches her anyway. “Maia, I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you’re decent because I’m coming in.”

He gives her five torturous seconds to respond or get decent if she isn’t already, and then he keys in the override code. The door slides open, revealing his unconscious (but blessedly fully clothed) babysitter slumped near the toilet, lit by a glowrod on the floor next to her. He can now hear her breathing heavily, though it doesn’t sound laboured, just a deep state of sleep.

His helmet isn’t sealed, so straight away, he’s able to detect the lingering smell of vomit. A somewhat grim consequence of being both a bounty hunter and a father means Din can also distinguish types of vomit. Although she has flushed, there’s no air filtration with the lights off, and the residual odour tells him that Maia has been drinking alcohol.

It also explains her unconscious state, so his worry dissipates a little, and mild annoyance starts to creep in.

She agreed to look after his son when she’d been drinking?

He kneels down next to her, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Maia. Wake up.” He shakes her, but she doesn’t stir.

He assumes she slipped from a propped-up position against the toilet, and the thud he heard was her slumping onto the ferrocrete floor. Did she bang her head? If that didn’t wake her… shit.

He tries shaking her again with as much force as he dares, and she groans and curls up even more. She’s fighting it, but he sees consciousness sluggishly returning.

“Maia, it’s Din. Can you sit up?”

“… y’can’t make me sing for the cup….” She’s still half asleep and confused, but that’s not surprising. A few seconds later, she cracks open her eyes, becomes aware of her situation, and slams them shut again. “Oh… fuuuck… no no, m’sorry… so so so s-sorry… please don’t be mad at meee….” She’s tearful and rambling but mostly coherent, even though she’s still curled on the floor with her eyes squeezed closed.

“What happened?” He can’t think of anything else to say until he’s established her culpability. He knows she wouldn’t drink on the job, so she must’ve been drinking earlier this evening. It certainly explains her overzealous response on the comlink. Dank farrik, he should’ve realised. But, no, he was busy revelling in his own drunken high from her joke about it being a booty call. Idiot.

“It was accidet— ac-ci-den-tal,” she continues from her foetal position. “Tried to call you back, but m’comlink’s busted… figured better I’m here drunk than not at all… ’m sorry sorry sorry, kark, pleeease don’t hate me. I jus’ wanted to make sure the li’l man was okay. I didn’t realise how much I’d had till I stood up, n’ it hit me worse on the way over. But Grogu’s fine, I checked. But I’ve grossed up your ’fresher, ’m sorry…”

Din sighs. In the scheme of things, Maia did the right thing. He’d rather she was here puking in his refresher than risk his child waking up alone. And it occurs to him that she achieved a surprising amount while seemingly drunk as a pirate. She secured the cabin, poured herself some water, stomached a few sips, managed to descend the stairs unscathed, and checked on the kid. Then she sealed herself inside the refresher and threw up neatly into the toilet bowl with no spills, even managing to flush before she passed out. And she did all that by the light of a glowrod so she wouldn’t wake Grogu.

In many ways, his babysitter’s actions tonight were more responsible than some of his own questionable choices regarding his son’s safety. He can’t be mad at her.

He tells her so. “I’m not mad, Maia. Thank you for coming over anyway. Can you sit up? I need to know you’re okay.”

Her eyes are still clamped shut, but she cracks them slightly as she tries to push herself off the floor. It doesn’t go well, so Din reaches forward to help, and together, they get her into a stable sitting position. Nevarro’s volcanic environment means the basement maintains a cosy warmth, so he’s not surprised she passed out down here. It’s not exactly soft, but those who grow up in the Outer Rim spend their lives making do. He likes that she’s a survivor. Like him.

“Everything’s s-spinning,” she groans. “N’ my mouth tastes like bantha balls.”

Din suppresses a snort. “Hold on.” He climbs to his feet, retrieves the cup of water from his bedroom, and then passes it to her. “Here, sip.”

After she’s taken a few delicate sips, Maia gives him back the cup. “Don’t wanna puke again.”

“You won’t,” he assures, placing it in her hands again. “Pretty sure you got all the alcohol out of your system already. You gotta rehydrate, or you’ll feel worse.”

Kneeling down next to her again, he watches her try to follow his instruction, pleased she trusts him. He can’t help but admire how adorably dishevelled she is. Her hair is mussed, her clothes are wrinkled, and she keeps pouting between sips… but it’s all so… cute.

Once she’s had half the cup, he accepts it back, though she follows it up with more apologies. “M’so sorry… , m’such a karkin’ idiot… I get it if you don’t want me to look after Grogu anym—”

“Stop,” Din interrupts sharply, unwilling to let her beat herself up. “This is as much on me as it is on you. I didn’t ask you if you were busy. I demanded you come over and bribed you with extra credits. I didn’t question why you sounded different on the comlink. And I didn’t wait for you to arrive. If I’d done any of those things differently, you might not have ended up on my ’fresher floor. So I’m sorry too.” Maia doesn’t reply besides blinking at him a few times, so he asks, “What was the occasion? For the drinking, I mean.”

“One year of freedom from a terrible relationship,” she states resolutely, and for a moment, she seems a little more sober. “Me n’ Zandi, we were both in deep with some mudscuffers who locked us in when we were too young to know any better. But we got lucky. Marshal Dune caught them dealing spice, and now they’re spending a decade mining the asteroid field at the edge of the system. The Nevarran tribunal sentenced them a year ago today, so we drank to celebrate our freedom.”

Din doesn’t really know how to respond. She’s made some previous passing remarks about the toxic relationships she and her friend escaped from, which he’s always taken as hints of her wish to remain unattached. It’s yet another reason he wouldn’t feel right about making any sort of move on her. He settles on, “You… deserve to celebrate.”

“Thanks, Shiny.” He bristles at the nickname out of habit, but he secretly likes that Maia has numerous nicknames for him. “N’ you deserve a ’fresher without a woman on the floor. I should get outta your way, Beskar Boy.”

She tries pushing herself up but instantly becomes dizzy and topples to the side. Din’s naturally quick reflexes kick in, and he positions himself to catch her, letting her fall into his chest as his arm snakes around her back. Before he can even process what he’s doing, he’s slipping his other arm beneath her knees and lifting her up.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, grabbing onto his flight suit with one hand while the other flies to grasp his neck. He almost shivers from feeling her clutch at him so keenly. “I don’t know what’s happening, but I love it! Thanks for the lift, muscles!”

He’s glad his bold move has amused rather than perturbed her, so he doesn’t answer, too busy willing his cock to remain unreactive to this sudden closeness. His main goal is to get her off the ferrocrete floor and put her down somewhere softer as fast as possible. As he elbows open the door and navigates out of the refresher, he makes a split-second decision. His bed is closer than the couch.

“Shiny! This is your bedroom!” Maia whisper-shouts as he steps through the door. At least she’s lucid enough to keep her voice low in case Grogu hears across the hall.

Din grunts in agreement as he approaches his bed and starts carefully lowering her onto it.

She keeps going in a gleeful whisper. “Is this…? Are we…? Kriff, I never thought I’d actually end up in your bed, metal man! I mean, it’s been a dream, sure, but I figured your creed thing meant, like, no sex or whatever. But holy frotz, I guess tonight really was a booty call! Count me the fuck in!”

He’s already laid her down by the time he fully processes her words.

Dank farrik, he’s a fucking idiot.

He will never have sex with any woman in this state. He’s not that kind of guy. The fact that being with Maia is a dream for him too is meaningless, and so is the possibility that she might actually want him. Because does she really? Maybe this is still the alcohol talking. It has to be. Right?

It doesn’t even matter. All Din needs to do is extract himself from this situation in the least awkward way possible and without having to reject her verbally.

But how?

He points a finger at her. “Stay put.” She bites her bottom lip and acknowledges his order with a sloppy salute.

Damn it, the image of her lip caught between her teeth is now burned into his brain, haunting him with forbidden promise.

He pads back to the refresher in his socks and closes the door, relieving himself, flushing, and then pouring some cleaner down the toilet to sit overnight. He then washes up at the sink as fast as possible and refills the cup of water. Returning to his bedroom, Din places the cup on the nightstand along with the glowrod that belongs to his guest.

Speaking of whom…

In his brief absence, Maia has toed off her shoes, stripped naked and strewn her clothes across the floor, and burrowed under his covers. She’s still bleary from the booze, but he sees fire and lust behind her hopeful gaze as she blinks up at him.

It kills him.

He remembers he never finished removing his armour, so he retrieves the vambrace from where he threw it and places it on its shelf. Then he finally removes his stomach padding and puts that away too, directing his visor anywhere except at the naked woman in his bed. He’s doing everything possible to deny the physical reaction her presence is giving rise to.

When he’s done, Din approaches the bed again, acutely aware that she’s tracking him with a hunger he shares but can do nothing about.

Fuck, this is torture. The blanket has slipped down (or maybe Maia has arranged it) so low that it’s daringly close to exposing her nipples. She’s right there, waiting for him. Wanting him.

But she’s drunk. And she’s his kid’s babysitter. He tries to quell his ache by thinking about how she’s thrown up this evening, which would make kissing gross. It helps for a second, although the idea of kissing her at all ends up eclipsing the negatives, and he hardens even more.

Shit, he cannot think about kissing her. Or how naked she is. Or anything like that. Vomit. He should focus on vomit.

Okay. Din taps off the bedside light and picks up the glowrod, then heads to the door in the dark, stumbling over her clothes strewn on the floor. He can’t activate his helmet’s night vision without his vambrace control, but he won’t put it back on just to navigate his escape. Nor will he switch on the glowrod yet because he doesn’t want to see any dismay or regret in her eyes as he leaves her. He wants to remember the hunger he witnessed there.

Hazardous garments notwithstanding, he finds his way to the exit.

Crossing the darkened doorway’s threshold, he whispers, “Get some rest, Maia.” Then he fumbles for the control and taps the door close button, releasing a sigh as it swishes shut behind him.

Switching on the dim glowrod, he traipses upstairs. It’s going to be so kriffing awkward in the morning. Nonetheless, one thought keeps repeating itself to him above all others, one he can no longer prevent his dick from swelling at the prospect of.

Is she really attracted to him?

He has to know.

Din extracts another blaster from his cabinet, knowing he won’t sleep without one beside him. Then he sits heavily on the couch, thinking about how often he used to sleep in his helmet before this cabin became his home. It’s the first place he’s felt secure enough to remove it at night, so he’s no stranger to sleeping beneath his beskar mask. It’s almost a comfort in a way.

With his face covered in a darkened room lit by nothing but a glowrod while those he cares for slumber downstairs, more memories return…

Sitting in the Crest’s darkened cockpit, fucking his fist by the swirling glow of hyperspace, chasing a release during those first stressful days as a fugitive. In theory, if something had pulled him out of hyperspace, someone could’ve quite literally caught him with his dick in his hand. But the odds of anyone being close enough to peer in through the transparisteel at that very moment and notice his furtive actions were slim. Back then, he was so untethered that in his weaker moments, he desperately sought anything that made him feel good. Fleeting moments when he could pretend his life wasn’t falling apart yet again. The risk was worth it.

Here, too, although he’s locked up the cabin and closed the shutters, there’s a risk of Maia sneaking up the stairs and finding him. But a similar desperation fills him now – the utter frustration of loss. Back then, it was the loss of a stable income, the loss of his covert. Now, it’s his missed chance – the loss of what could’ve been with the woman downstairs. And maybe even the total loss of her in his life. Perhaps she’ll be too embarrassed about this evening’s events and quit. Din couldn’t take that, nor could Grogu. It’s why he tried to avoid this.

Can they get past this? Maybe he ought to find someone else to care for the kid. Would that be best? This is getting too complicated. He doesn’t want to think about it anymore.

So, right now, he’ll imagine the positive and lose himself in the fantasy, just like he used to. He’ll think about the hunger he saw in her eyes and let himself believe it wasn’t merely the alcohol. Just for tonight, he’ll believe it’s the truth. The risk, once again, is worth it.

He’s already tenting his loose flight suit pants, so he fumbles to expose himself and relaxes against the couch cushions behind him. The wet spot on his underwear displays just how profoundly turned on he is simply by the idea of being with Maia.

After all the temptation it’s endured this evening, his cock is extra sensitive, so he begins with measured, lazy strokes. Whilst he’d love to revel in the fantasy, he knows he won’t last long. As he imagines joining her in his bed, filling his palms with those half-exposed breasts he saw, pressing his naked body against her, his movements begin to speed up and his pressure increases. Very soon, he’s plummeting toward the edge of ecstasy like a podracer pilot with the finish line in sight.

His helmet tips back to stare at the ceiling as he pictures how it would feel to sink into her warm depths, and the notion ignites his fuse, burning rapidly. It only takes a few more strokes before the powder keg within him explodes into a million tiny raptures. His hips stutter, his muscles clench, and his orgasm tears through his body. He comes hard, and a fractured groan far louder than he’d intended escapes through the modulator as he spills forth his pleasure…

Fucking. Bliss.

Din’s mind is blank for some time, just a sense of fulfilment and contentment gently rippling throughout his relaxed form.

As the real world filters back in, he’s able to think clearly, and he now knows what he has to do. He doesn’t like it, but it’s the mature and sensible option. It’s also a fucking daunting prospect, but he’s faced worse. Has he? Yes, he has. He can do it. 

He tucks himself away and finds a cloth to wipe down the mess on his flight suit. That task makes him realise he’ll have to sneak into his bedroom tomorrow without waking Maia to grab his armour and some fresh clothes. And now he really needs to do laundry tomorrow. The only pants he has left are the tighter ones, which he tries to avoid wearing around her. Great, there’s another reason to dread the morning. Although it’s not as if he’s ever caught her checking out his package – she may tease him verbally, but her gaze is always polite.

For now, he’ll enjoy the security of darkness and the lingering swirl of happy chemicals in his brain.

Din lays down on the couch and switches off the glowrod. With a deep sigh, he surrenders to the relaxing state of comfort brought on by his orgasm, letting himself fall into a contented sleep. Before he drifts off, his last thought is of Maia’s beautiful lips… leaning in for a kiss….

If only.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 2 →

Those of you who've read my work before will be familiar with my copious end notes:

As usual, it’s British spellings I’m afraid. Demographic stats say about 60% of you are American, but I can’t help where I was born, so sorry about all the extra ‘u’s and ‘l’s and for using ‘s’ where you would expect ‘z’. However, I’ve channelled my inner linguist and used American language and speech patterns since the show is filmed in the US and Din’s accent is American. All other wording is internationally neutral, including Maia’s dialogue (since the next chapter is written from her POV and I’ll be switching to second person reader insert for that, e.g. you/your pronouns). I’m a little sad I didn’t get to include any Mando’a linguistics in this fic tbh. Maybe another time.

The cabin’s layout is inspired by the concept art by Christian Alzmann that appeared in the closing credits of s3e8, in which there appears to be a staircase leading down to a lower level. That makes sense to me, as Din would need total security to sleep without his armour on, and a windowless underground room seemed appropriate. I also like the parallel that on the Razor Crest he used to sleep on the lower level in a windowless room too.

I know Carl’s absence is going to be felt when we finally get the movie, so I wanted to write something where Karga is still around. If this had been a longer piece, I would’ve had him actually featuring in it instead of being in the background, but in any case, Karga lives forever in the universes I write.

The reference to Din wearing looser pants is, weirdly, Canon. One of the ways you can tell it’s Brendan Wayne in the suit is because he seems to prefer these weird baggy clown pants. Contrast to Pedro who likes them tight (Din Peña?), as does Lateef Crowder, and as did Barry Lowin in season 2. Since Brendan did the majority of season 3, we saw Din in the loose-fitting style a lot more, so I decided to write in a reason for that beyond actor preference.

Though we have no information on Nevarro’s judiciary system, they’re an independent world who have a marshal and a magistrate, so my guess is they’d adopt the New Republic’s system of having a tribunal. Generally, group decision-making is favoured during this era, in contrast to the single-judge system of the Imperial era, so it seems more likely that Karga would encourage citizens to serve on a tribunal rather than unilaterally passing judgments himself.

Apologies to @the-mandawhor1an for using the name of your longtime established OC – it was coincidental, I promise! I chose it after looking up the most common female names in the world, one of which is Maria, and I settled on the variant Maia because it sounded like a more Star Wars-y version (and for another reason which you’ll see in part 2). I only realised when you reblogged my WIP Wednesday snippet, and it was a bit late to change it by then. I guess it’s a common name in the SWU too! But I’m sorry and I hope you don’t feel like I’m muscling in on your domain. Your Maia is of course the original Maia 💖

I made the GIF myself. Sorry it’s a bit blurry, I’m not very good at making them yet. I tried to use Tumblr’s GIF-making function, but it wouldn’t let me crop out Grogu’s ears, so this was my alternative attempt. It’ll have to do.

Definitions: Comlinks are those little cylinder comms they all use. Glowrod is a catch-all term for anything portable that produces light. All the swears/insults (stinking stang, frotz, borked, kriff, kark) are from the Legends list of phrases and slang this time (it’s longer than Canon). Nevarran reptavians are the ones that Grogu saved Karga from in s1e7 and that the Mandalorians were roasting in s3e7. Ferrocrete is a compound building material (Canon and Legends) made from concrete and iron, used in roads, reinforced bunkers and building foundations. I figured Din would only be happy with something strong and defensible, so Karga had the cabin built with it. Transparisteel is used for windows and ship viewports, as well as helmet visors.

Part 2 is written and will be uploaded next weekend once proofing/editing is complete. What do we think? Is Din gonna be dumb and tell her she can’t babysit Grogu anymore? Deny himself what he wants for Maia’s own good?

Tags requested…

@aheadfullofsteverogers @alltheotps @axolotllover225 @burntheedges @copperhalfcent

@foomoosworld @jude77 @secretelephanttattoo @stagerightlauren @the-mandawhor1an

Those tagged below showed interest in my masterlist and WIP snippets (comments/reblogs), so I thought I’d sneak in some extra tags. Apologies if it’s too forward, if you’d prefer I didn’t tag you in part 2 just let me know…

@604to647 @cheekychaos28 @djarinmuse @gingerlurk

@joelalorian @kyberblade @readingupsidedown @sunflowersunlight7-blog

@thefrogdalorian @whataenginerd @wrathkitty

[kaysfanficcorner]

Out of this World Chapter 9: Reunions and Revelations

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Earthling OC/Reader

Summary: When an unexpected arrival shows up in Tatooine, the Mandalorian and the Earthling decide to delay their quest to find the Jedi for a few more days.

Author's Note: Oh boy, I can't believe it's been so long since I posted chapter 8. All I can say is that my life got a little chaotic for awhile and I had to put this story on hiatus while I figured a few things out. But I'm back in business! I always intended to ride this story out until the end, and I am finally in the headspace to be creative again! I never forgot about this story or these lovebirds! I love my Earthling OC/reader so much. That being said, I first posted this story two years ago and I felt that some of it could be approved upon. So I just finished going through the original 8 chapters and I made some edits. Nothing changed with the overall plot or themes, I just fixed a few mistakes and fleshed out a few scenes some more. Chapter 9 gave me a lot of trouble but I'm excited to get back into this story! I am so proud of it and I appreciate every single one of you who has taken the time to read this. If you want to be added or removed from the taglist please let me know!

***** = A break in the scene or a switch between character pov.

Mando'a: Ner - my Ad’ika - little one Burc’ya - friend Cyare - beloved Cyar'ika - darling or sweetheart Riduur - spouse (husband or wife) Riduurok - marriage bond Ni kar'taylir darasuum - I will know you forever (I love you)

Warnings: Cursing, references to past trauma, conflicted foster parents, and of course, sexual situations🌶️ Smut and Fluff abound. My Din Djarin is a sweetie and just needs to be loved.

Minors DNI, Strictly 18+

AO3

*****

"Granddad?” Your voice is so small as the word comes out, so unsure. Standing in the heat of Tatooine's twin suns, Hangar 3-5 is nearly spinning as a new sort of wooziness overcomes you. Beginning to sway, a hand reaches beside you to grip at the Mandalorian's vambrace covered forearm. Steadying yourself with the one and only person you know in this galaxy who grounds you.

The old man in the dark red engineer's jumpsuit says your name again, the cadence of it sounding so familiar to you that it spawns a small sob from your throat.

“This is marvelous! Absolutely marvelous!” He says cheerfully, moving forward. “I can't believe you're really here! Took you long enough, punk.”

Peli looks you over with a facial expression of both shock and recognition, then back to the man whom she'd referred to as her partner. “Wait a sec, you mean to tell me that's really her?”

“That's really her,” the man agrees, closing the distance between himself and the rest of the group. “It appears that fate has brought us together again after all.”

Beside you, Din's body straightens up. His voice is laced with an edge that alerts you to how skeptical he really is towards this stranger. Your Mandalorian does not trust newcomers lightly.

“I believe an explanation is in order,” he says seriously, looking between Peli's new engineer and yourself.

“Quite right,” the man agrees, looking right into your eyes. “But I think it's best that you and I speak in private.”

“I agree,” you say, more words unable to find you at this moment. The shock and anger you feel is simply too great. Beginning to step towards him, you're stopped when Din grips your wrist.

“Are you sure he is trustworthy?” He asks, voice low.

“Honestly? I don't know. He was once the most trustworthy person I knew,” your own voice feels icy as you finish with, “but clearly I have been lied to. I didn't realize that deception was one of your many talents, Grandad.”

Your grandfather, Richard, looks incredibly hurt by that. The littlest pang of guilt strikes you at the sight of his downtrodden facial expression, but you try your best to ignore it.

“That's a bit unfair, punk. But you have every right to be upset,” Richard offers lamely as he moves closer to you. His arms are reaching out to perhaps offer a hug, but you're having none of that right now.

Taking a foreboding step forward, you poke a hard finger into his chest. “You're damn right I do! What the fuck, Grandad!”

The child's ears cast downward and he makes a little upset noise in Peli's arms. That's enough to steady you, to remember that your boy is watching you. Learning life's great lessons from paying attention to how you interact with others. With a sigh and a deep breath, you stop the anger before it manifests anymore than it already has.

“I will not lose my temper in front of Green Bean,” you say to no one in particular. “Let's go somewhere to talk this through.”

“Yes, let's do just that.” The old man agrees, a weary look on his wrinkled features.

You move to pat the child on the head, and his ears shift upwards again with a chirp. “Sorry about that, buddy.” Then you turn to face Din, and his body language alone tells you all you need to know of the tense mood he's suddenly in. “I will be back when he and I have said all there is to say. I do not know if we can trust him, but you know you can trust me.”

“Keep your com link open. Just in case.”  

“I will call you if I need you. Always. Ni kar'taylir darasuum,” you breathe that last part up at him, following your instinct to acknowledge your love for him regardless of those watching. It's important for you to let him know that the connection you share is still very real to you in such a surreal moment. Besides, you highly doubt your grandfather or Peli knows a lick of Mando'a.

“Ni kar'taylir darasuum,” he repeats, your name dancing on his tongue at the end of it as he nods once at you.

Then you turn back to your grandfather and the two of you exit Hangar 3-5 to walk the streets of the Mos Eisley Spaceport.

*****

Din Djarin’s chest seizes up and his stomach simultaneously drops to his boots as he watches you walk off with a man who is both a complete stranger to him, and a close blood relation to you. The sudden appearance of your grandfather has thrown him for such a loop that he's getting dizzy. It feels as if he’s not in reality anymore. There is a physical pain in his upper body. His brow is breaking out into a sweat beneath the beskar, a sweat that has nothing to do with the heat of this planet's twin suns.

Peli seems to tell that now is not a good time, so she takes the child off to her office without being promoted to do so. Calling over her shoulder, she says that she’ll keep him for a while and makes herself scarce as quickly as possible. Normally Din would argue against the child being taken away, but right now he can't think that straight.

Unsure of where else to go, he makes his way up the open ramp and into the empty Razor Crest. His way around the galaxy, and the home he prides himself with. It used to be a comfort to enter his ship completely alone, feeling no sign of another presence anywhere near his own. Din's perpetual solitude was never an issue before. In fact, it had been a welcomed thing after long days of dealing with tiresome social interactions or a particularly difficult hunt. The rest of the world would slip away and he would be in his safe haven once again, whirling through hyperspace. He'd liked that everything was in its proper place and he didn’t have to worry about anyone besides himself. A lonely existence to be sure, but one Din thought he was fine with until a few months ago. Aside from his life, when it came down to it he really had nothing to lose.

Now the ship is occupied by others and he feels as if he has absolutely everything to lose. It scares the living hell out of him to care for others, and Din Djarin has spent most of his adult life feeling scared of very few things. Fear is such an unnerving thing to him, but since you and the kid both fell into his lap he's felt it more and more every day. Din is just good at keeping uncomfortable feelings buried deeply within his chest.

Seven months ago the Razor Crest would have barely passed for a home in the eyes of another. Din’s life had been so simple then. No decor, no real personal items to speak of save for weaponry and clothing. His needs had been very basic and therefore his living conditions had been very basic. Jump to the present and the Razor Crest is a real home full of love. You have unwittingly changed the interior of the ship so much in the several months you’ve been living on it. The kid’s various art projects are hung up here or there. Your personal items have started showing up literally all over the place. He finds something of yours where it shouldn’t be at least once a week. It had irritated him once upon a time. Now he feels as if having to live without it would tear his heart in half right down the center.

Looking into the cot, Din really stops to soak in how much the tiny sleeping cabin has changed. The fluffy black blanket and accompanying pillow are neatly laid out in a way that makes it look almost like a real bed. A picture, the one the kid drew on Nevarro of the three squiggles together, hangs just above where his helmeted head rests each night beside yours. Together the three of you have a mixed scent that naturally hangs in the sleeping space. It comforts him every time he catches a whiff of it. The kid’s stuffed lava meerkat is in its rightful place, nestled in the tiny hammock. Din’s not ready to face the possibility that all of this could be about to change back to the way it was before. Cold and empty, just as he once was.

You've spoken so openly about feeling like Earth is no longer where you belong, but what if you had been saying that to try and convince yourself of something that was not true? To protect yourself from the pain of not being able to return to where you came from? He feels himself shake a little at the thought of it... that you could possibly look up at him with those big eyes that he loves so much and tell him you've changed your mind about staying. About being by his side.

It hurts so bad that an actual sob escapes his mouth, and he has to grip the ladder rungs to keep himself steady.

*****

“Explain yourself,” you say, arms crossed over your chest as you look your grandfather up and down with scrutiny. He’s changed so much since you last saw him. Thinner, but more fit. The facial hair is new, the deep tan is new. His eyes are the only true giveaway that this is really him. Striking and kind at the same time.

“What would you like to know?” He asks, seeming amused. He also seems to be taking in your appearance, regarding you with interest.

This only serves to irritate you. You’re frustrated, angry, and confused, in no mood to be funny whatsoever. “Everything, Grandad. Why did you leave? More importantly, why didn't you tell me? Was it an accident? Did you do it on purpose? Did you consciously abandon me?”

The amusement never leaves his wrinkled features. “Is it alright if I answer one at a time?”

Rolling your eyes, a sharp, angry noise escapes you. “Do you think this is funny? I mean, honestly? Stop and think about it for a moment. You fucked off out of the blue and left me to deal with all of them by myself. With her. You’re legally dead back home, just in case you were wondering about that. Oh, and your ex-wife took the fucking house away from me. Slapped me in the face with it, both literally and figuratively. I guess you better hope that no one else finds the lab. God! How fucking irresponsible can you be?!”

His face has been growing serious the entire time you’ve been angrily ranting at him, and now a deep frown has found its way into the depths of his beard, the lines of it creasing his forehead. All of the amusement in him is gone as he intones your name gravely. “No one will find the lab. The only other person on Earth who can get into it is you and now you’re finally here. There’s a fail safe in place. After you came here, everything in the room was to be rendered useless and all data was to be scrubbed. Essentially, if I did everything right, the lab will have self destructed in a way.”

“So you knew I would eventually come here?” You’re aware that he glossed over the comment about being left alone, abandoned, but you can’t help but focus on the way he said that you’re finally here.

“Well, I had hoped. I couldn’t be sure that you’d find the lab or the instructions I left you,” he replies plainly. “I also couldn't be sure that you would choose to come.”

Your jaw drops open at that. “Instructions?! There were no instructions!”

“What do you mean? I left you a recording in the lab. Is that not why you figured out how to get here?” He seems just as surprised as you are.

Shaking your head, you explain, “I only found the lab when I was told I had to move out and I was looking for paperwork about the house in your office. It was all completely accidental. After you left and a few years went by I got sick of living alone so I adopted an orange tabby cat. She’s named after Jupiter because her fur pattern reminded me of the planet. I took Jupiter down to the lab with me and she got herself into trouble as soon as we set foot on the ground. I didn't have time to take in my surroundings or find a recording before I was being sucked through time and space against my will.”

The old man gawks at you, openly dumbfounded. “Wait… do you mean to tell me that a god damned cat triggered the intergalactic transplant?”

“Ew, that’s a really gross name for that, Grandad,” you start to laugh, then the sudden swell of emotions crashes over you, sending you into a fit of near hysterical laughter. You're not sure if it's laughing, crying, or both. All of this is so incredibly surreal. It’s like he never left for a split second when you catch yourself talking to him in such a snarky tone, sounding like a much younger version of yourself.

“You know, that is a gross name for it,” the old man laughs along with you, wiping tears from his eyes. Then his tears seem to become real for a moment as well. “Jesus Christ, you’re lucky you weren’t split in half. God," he says your name in a pained voice, "I’m so very stupid and selfish. Forgive me. I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you what I was doing. I told myself that not a single person could know.”

“But why?”

“So that there was no way for the government to find out about it and put an end to it. If they'd caught on to what I was up to I would have either been thrown in jail for conducting illegal experiments, or the loony bin. Once my clearances were revoked I was forbidden from practicing that kind of science. But I wanted you to be involved. I wanted to teach you about what I was doing. I was just so terrified. A part of me was afraid that I really was just a crazy old man who’d read too many science fiction novels as a boy. What if after all this time, after all I had given up, I really was wrong?”

He stops walking to grab both of your hands in his, looking deeply into your eyes as he continues on, “My ego got the better of me, just as it always has. I couldn’t risk letting anyone find out about it and so I convinced myself that I couldn’t risk you being involved either. So, yes, I made the hard decision to keep you in the dark. But I felt so guilty that I decided to leave you that recording before I left. I wanted to give you the choice to either destroy everything and forget about it or to follow me here.”

“It would have been nice to just have that choice up front, you know. Not because you changed your mind at the last minute.” You cannot hide the hurt in your tone, nor do you try to.

Richard's voice is solemn, “There hasn’t been a day that’s gone by since I left that I haven’t regretted my decision not to tell you.”

Fresh tears of your own begin to fall freely as you speak from the heart. “You have no idea what I’ve dealt with in the last five years. It’s been fucking hell, Grandad. Dealing with the family was like dealing with a pack of rabid, feral dogs. The head bitch was the worst I’ve ever seen her. Pure evil. The house upkeep was stressful when I had no idea what I was doing. The government did investigate your disappearance but that didn't last long. People thought I was either nuts or sad or both for believing that you were still alive. But I had to. I had to hold onto the thought that you would never abandon me, at least not on purpose. They only declared you dead recently, so as soon as she could your ex wife was trying to get her hands on anything of yours that she felt she had a claim to. She was ready to take the house from me and leave me on the street without a care in the world. Mom and Dad certainly wouldn't have taken me in. They haven't spoken to me in a long time.”

Richard hangs his head, avoiding the intensity of your gaze. “I’m sorry all of that was so hard on you. I didn’t think about the consequences of my actions and that’s on me.”

“Yeah, you really didn’t. I missed you so much, but deep down I was also so angry with you that I wanted to find you just so I could rip you to shreds myself.” That intensity isn’t going to leave your eyes anytime soon. This is all just far too much. You're so overwhelmed. “And while you’ve been gallivanting on your grand space adventures, I’ve been trying to stay sane picking up the pieces of what you left behind. If I hadn't ended up here when I did, who knows what my life would look like right now.”

His voice wavers slightly, “Not all of this has been an adventure. I’ve had a couple of pretty close calls. Ended up in a prison camp at one point. Got picked up by slavers and only barely escaped. You won’t believe the kinds of awful things going on in this galaxy. Wasn’t until I met Peli that things started to feel right, like I was finally home.”

You scoff a little, “Oh I believe it. I’ve just spent the last seven months traveling the outer rim on that Razor Crest with the Mandalorian and the kid. I’ve nearly been killed. I’ve killed. I’ve seen some weird ass shit… but honestly, Grandad? I’ve never been happier in my entire life. I feel like this is where I was always meant to be. Weirdly enough, life here has started to make sense in a way that it never did on Earth.” As the words leave your lips, you realize just how true that statement really is. This galaxy really feels like home now. Earth doesn't even feel like an option anymore.

Richard’s eyes hold the smile that graces his lips long after they return to a neutral state. “Well you fit in with this part of the universe beautifully. I didn’t recognize you at first, and I mean that as a very large compliment. This feels like the most authentic version of you, punk. And it's a good thing, too. In the recording I left you, I told you not to make the decision to come lightly because if you did, then you could never go back to Earth again. So I hope you're fine with sticking around.”

You can't help but agree, “Same goes for you, old man. I barely knew it was you at first when you came out from behind the Crest. But this suits you. You fit here. And at first I wanted to go back to Earth because I was terrified and confused, but now I can't imagine what the point of going back there would be at all. I've changed so much. And even with danger around every corner, this galaxy is so much better than Earth. I've been to so many planets and moons, met so many different species.”

“Seems as if we’ve both changed for the better," he muses.

You regard him seriously then, continuing to walk down the sandy streets of the desert city. “I need to understand everything. Please, I’ll listen as long as I need to but I have to know. How did you even figure out how to get here? Did you know where you were going to end up when you did it?”

Richard chuckles at your rapid fire questioning, musing, "Some things about you haven't changed at all. That’s a lot of ground to cover, but I promise to tell you everything. Can you convince your Mandalorian friend to stay for a few days? We’ve got so much catching up to do.”

Just thinking of Din brings a happy smile to your lips, feeling excited to share the tale of the love you’ve found with your only father figure. “I think he understands the gravity of the situation. He probably already knows I’ll want to stay on Tatooine for a few days, even though we are on a mission of sorts. The Mandalorian and I are… close.”

With a knowing glint in his eye, he smiles at you fondly. “I thought I suspected a certain intimacy between you.”

You can’t help it, gushing a little as you reply. “I’ve never felt love like this, Grandad. He’s my best friend. He’s becoming everything to me. So is the child under our care. They're my family.”

“Then I must know everything about him. How the two of you came to be.”

“You’re not getting off that easy. You first.”

“Alright. I suppose it's best to start at the beginning. What do you know of the phenomenon the locals refer to as The Force?”

*****

“Where’s Mando?” You ask Peli as you re-enter the hanger a long while later, eyes on the lookout for your cosmic companion and your would-be foster child.

The twin suns are nearly set when you and your grandfather return from the long walk on the hot sands. Being reunited with him is both a thrill, and a drain. You're exhausted after talking for so long, listening to him talk, and feeling through so many complicated emotions in one afternoon. You desperately want to be surrounded by your little family and take comfort in the solace of your mobile home. After the conversation with your grandfather, you're filled with a new confidence about your feelings for both Din and the child. The closeness with them is somehow more real than it was before.

The eccentric little woman is currently using the flames from an engine to cook the hunk of krayt dragon meat on a makeshift spit. Noticing this, you finally spot one of your boys. The kid is standing a little too close to the flames in your opinion, so on instinct you move him about a foot backwards. When he pouts up at you, you wink down at him. “Gotta stay safe, Green Bean. It’s only because I love you.”

Peli shrugs, looking as if she’s genuinely concerned in spite of the fact that she’s trying to play it off. “He’s on the ship. Been up there since you two walked off. Seems moodier than usual if ya ask me.”

With a soft roll of the eyes you shake your head, having a good notion as to why Din may be acting moody. After seeing how stiff he was acting before you'd left, it makes sense. Crouching down in front of the kid to pat lovingly at his little head, you ask him, “Can you do me a favor, kiddo? Please stay down here with Peli and Gramps while I go see what’s going on with your dad, okay?” The child nods up at you in response, and you thank him as you look back at the two elder adults. “Do you guys mind watching him for me?”

Richard shakes his head, “Of course not. Go ahead, punk.”

Making your way up and into the ship, you hesitantly call out for Din. He doesn’t respond, so you go looking for him. Not in the cot, the fresher, the galley, or the cargo hold. Upstairs is the only next logical option so you climb the ladder's rungs, growing increasingly more worried the closer you ascend to the top. The cockpit door stands motionless before you, so you take a deep breath and shake out your arms a little before you press the button to open it.

Din is seated on the floor, his back up against the pilot's seat with one leg tucked underneath him and the other laid out straight. He’s facing your direction, so when the door opens with a loud swoosh, his silver head immediately snaps up to look at you. Jupiter is in his lap, a bare hand nestled in her fur as he strokes her back softly.

You come to sit down on the floor in front of him, legs crossed in front of you. You wish briefly that you could take the helmet off. Not to see him, but to comfort him by touching his face. He’s sniffling slightly, and you can't help wondering if he’s been weeping.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him genuinely, reaching forward to touch his helmet with gentle fingers. The cat chooses this moment to leap from his lap and leave her two humans to seek out something only a cat could want.

His breath hitches, coming out with a hiss in the speakers of the modulator. You're surprised when he turns his head from you as he speaks, clearly avoiding your gaze. “You can leave now. Go back to Earth. If you ever decide that this isn’t what you want, you can just leave and then I’d never see you again. When I realized that, ner cyare, it frightened me more than anything in a very long time.”

Part of you is floored by this for a moment, shocked that he would think that you would even consider going back to Earth after all that the two of you have been through together. But a part of you also knew that this was how he may react to the sudden appearance of your long lost grandfather. The entire situation is jarring, so you don't really blame him for having anxiety about it.

“You’ll be thrilled to know that Grandad hasn’t created a way to go back and he doesn't plan to. He came here with the intention of spending the rest of his life here. According to him the device back home has been rendered useless. But more importantly, I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here. With you. You’re my family, Din Djarin. You and our Green Bean.” Whispering this last sentence, you realize that this is the first time you’ve declared him to be your family to, for lack of a better term, his face. The feeling of fullness in your emotional center warms you, spreading throughout your body in little waves.

Din counters, “Technically he has the ability to build another device if you really change your mind. If he could build it once he could theoretically do it again. And he has access to much more advanced technology here.”

A little noise of frustration erupts from your throat, your hands balling up into fists as you speak, “Oh my god, Din! What in the hell do I have to do to convince you that I’m not going anywhere? Marry you?!” You freeze up as you say this, having not realized the gravity of your words before letting them leave your mouth. A hand flies to your lips, but it's too late to contain what you've already said.

He says nothing at first, only stares at you for a long moment. Then he tilts his head, almost in a foreboding way. His voice sounds dead serious, “Do not make light of that, please.”

“I’m not making light of that. I’m being very serious," you plea.

“I wouldn’t want you to marry me out of some sort of obligation to make me feel more secure,” he replies, the slightest bit of bitterness in his tone with a taste of fear at the edge of it.

“That’s not-,” you start to get fired up again but you quickly stop yourself with closed eyes, taking a deep breath as you adjust your posture. “You misunderstood me. What I was trying to say is that I want to be with you for as long as humanly possible. So if that means eventually marrying you and making this a true life-long bond, then I would do so without hesitation. It wouldn’t be out of obligation in the slightest, it would be out of love.”

Din's shoulders relax a little, voice relaxing as well, "I would like to be with you as long as possible too, but right now I do not know what that entails. We need to figure out what's going to happen with the kid before anything else."

"I know that. I was just trying to make a point." As you try to reassure him, suddenly an embarrassed little feeling stirs in you for having steered the conversation in this direction by accident. The newness of the relationship and the subject of marriage being brought up so early into it, twice in the same week, makes you feel anxious as a silence befalls you both.

“That Tusken was right, though. You’d make a fine wife,” Din says after a moment, his voice sounding significantly better as he sits up. The anxiety laced within his tone is melting away.

Your heart soars at that, your own anxiety subsiding a little. Grinning, you lean forward and kiss the helmet where his cheek lies beneath the beskar, using the pad of your thumb to wipe away the mark your lips leave behind. “Sounds like you’re smiling again under there, Chrome Dome.”

He stiffens slightly. “How do you know that?”

You give a knowing smile of your own, grasping for his gloved hand. “I can hear it in your voice when you smile sometimes. It’s only something I’ve picked up on recently. I like to feel your mouth when I’m blindfolded, and I’ve started to realize what your voice sounds like when those lips of yours are turned upwards at me.”

Din makes an indistinguishable noise. “Come here, ner burc’ya.” He pulls you to him then, holding you in a firm embrace as he rests his helmeted head on your shoulder. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

“I love you too, my sweet warrior.” Cradling the beskar, you hold him against you for a long while. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum. I told you I would know you forever. I wouldn't say it the Mandalorian way if I didn't mean it. Please trust that I'm not going to leave so long as we continue to be good for each other."

"I will," he breathes, "I will trust you."

“You’d make a great husband, you know,” you say after the silence which befalls you both no longer feels comfortable. Now that it’s out on the table you might as well talk about it. If he's going to trust you, then you're going to have to trust him in return. Trust that he will handle your feelings with the care and respect of a true partner.

He lifts up to look at you. “You think so?”

“Duh," you exaggerate the word, "I can’t imagine a better man to spend my life with. It would be an honor to introduce you to others as my husband, and to grow old by your side.”

Din sighs, avoiding your gaze again for a moment. “Occasionally I worry that the affection you have for me is misplaced.”

“Why?” You ask, urging him to look at you with a gentle hand to the base of the beskar.

Din shrugs, shaking his helmeted head before the visor looks you dead on again. “I cannot provide you with a normal life. I can only offer you what I know, and I only know the life of a Mandalorian.”

You scoff, “I’ve never once said that I want a normal life.”

“What if you decide that you do one day?”

With a roll of the eyes you squeeze his bare hand, then bring the knuckles to your lips and kiss the ridges with several small pecks. “Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. We can figure out what our normal looks like. My poor shiny friend, you worry far too much. Learn to live in the moment, to enjoy your present life before it passes you by. I'm finally learning to do that myself.”

Din's head tilts slightly. He doesn't break the contact between your hands though, running his thumb over yours. “I’m a trained Mandalorian warrior. Planning for multiple outcomes and thinking tactically is how I was raised.”

You frown, “This isn’t battle, though.”

His tone shifts to a vulnerable one, his head shifting again with it. “In a way it is. In a way, a life long bond between two individuals is just as much a strategic thing as planning a siege. You have to map out the right time to bring up something uncomfortable, just as you would map out the right time to blockade all entry points of an enemy’s base. You must devise when it’s appropriate to trust another with your most sacred and private feelings, just as you must devise when it's appropriate to offer a bargain for the enemy’s surrender. You have to think every choice over carefully when your heart is entangled with the heart of another, or you could strangle both hearts entirely and kill whatever it is that binds them together in the first place.”

You stare at him for a long moment, taking in everything that he just expressed as your eyes scan over the beskar. For a man who barely spoke when you first met, he’s gotten much more comfortable with long and eloquent ways to articulate his thoughts. Hearing him describe what he shares with you from his viewpoint is incredibly powerful, helping you to better understand the man you care for so dearly.

“Thank you for explaining your perspective. I feel like I just got to know a much deeper level of how you see the world. That means a lot to me,” the words flow from your lips earnestly.

“I appreciate that you listen,” he says softly, “that you always strive to understand me.”

“Of course,” you reply, hand trailing over his chest plate, “but, admittedly, I’ve never had to try very hard. You make it incredibly easy to love you, Din.”

“I feel the same way about you,” he says even softer, melting your heart a little more. “Parts of this are still uncomfortable for me but loving you, knowing you, comes so naturally. I used to try so hard to fight it in those early months but it was no use.”

“What are the odds that Greef's business proposition would lead to this?” You muse idly.

“I think that very same thing all the time,” Din’s voice is almost full of wonder.

Seeing a window of opportunity, you bring up what you came to talk to him about, “Speaking of which, I actually have a proposition of my own.”

“I’m listening,” he urges you on, sitting up more.

“Since our one and only lead turned out to be a bust and we have no idea where to go next, is it okay if we delay for a couple of days? I’d like to spend time with Grandad before we carry on with the mission.”

“This is not something I would consider a delay, cyar’ika. You thought that he was gone forever, and now he’s back in your life. That is not an insignificant thing. I’ll give you as much time as you need.”

“You’re the best,” you grin, butting your forehead into his metal clad one.

“So you love to tell me,” Din chuckles.

“I do have one complaint about you though,” you say with a cheeky little smirk.

“And that is?” He sounds as if he's raised an eyebrow, head tilting.

“You're still covered in krayt dragon, and I'm pretty sure we both stink.”

*****

Nightfall comes and Din finds himself seated by the flames of a small fire in Hangar 3-5, with you seated in a way so that you are next to but also leaning on him. One arm is wrapped around your waist and the other is draped along the piece of spare equipment he’s leaning against. You feel so right pressed to him like this, and the word riduur continues to float around in his mind. He must be going mad for thinking about marriage this much and so soon. Yes, the two of you have been close friends for several months but you’ve been lovers for a much shorter amount of time. Perhaps he’s so lost in the throws of love that he cannot think clearly anymore. Or perhaps the idea of marrying you is the clearest he’s ever thought about anything in his entire life.

Either way, he pulls you close and savors how perfect your weight feels against him. The way you convulse into him as you laugh at something your grandfather says. The scent of your freshly clean body, faint as it is within the helmet. Din’s chest swells at the sensation of spousal yearning, arm squeezing you the littlest bit tighter. You seem to respond to this, pressing your hand into his inner thigh and glancing back at him with a knowing little smile. He can see the love in your eyes, and briefly wishes that you could see it being returned in his own. A wish that he quickly pushes away, ashamed slightly.

Peli and Richard have provided the group with two bottles of wine. One for the two of them and one for Din and yourself. Not usually one to drink, Din hasn’t had much of it. You’ve had one cup and your body seems to have relaxed into the feeling of it, though your mind remains sharp as you discuss the things you miss about Earth with your grandfather.

“Okay,” you giggle, a sound Din has cherished for months, “what are the top five Earth foods you miss eating? For me it's pizza with pineapples and peppers, cheeseburgers with mushrooms, any kind of sushi, cheesy mashed potatoes, and spaghetti. Angel hair pasta of course.”

Din has no idea what any of that food is. You've spoken about some of these things before, so he's vaguely familiar with the terminology you use but when it comes down to truly understanding, he's at a loss as to what constitutes as a cheeseburger. He'd be interested to know what it tastes like, if only to understand why you speak of it with such reverence.

Richard hums as he considers this, a look of concentration on his brow. “That's a good one. I think mine are going to have to be BLTs, crab cakes, French onion soup, beef stroganoff, and spaghetti for me as well. You used to make great spaghetti.”

“Oh my god I would die for a bowl of it right now,” you lament. “With extra Parmesan cheese. And garlic bread.”

“Does any of that sound good to you, Mando?” Peli asks with a scrunched expression. “These Earthlings are weird-ooohs if you ask me.”

“I'd have to see it to know, but it all certainly sounds bizarre.” Din replies honestly.

You look up at him with a wide grin, “I think a good slice of pizza would change your life, Mando.”

Just then a piece of metal whizzes past his head, nearly dinging the beskar. The kid is in your lap playing with some spare parts down by Din's feet, using his ability to make them float around in front of his face as if he is playing with toy starships. One of the 'ships' must have had a great victory over the one that flew past him, if he had to guess.

“That child is something else,” Richard remarks from the other side of the fire where he’s laying down with his head in Peli’s lap.

Din must admit, seeing Peli in a romantic relationship is very odd. He’s sure that seeing them like that is strange for you as well. Richard himself eludes Din for a multitude of reasons. The Mandalorian is skeptical of this stranger, regardless of who he is to you. When Din had asked you to tell him your grandfather's explanation for why any of this happened to the two of you in the first place, you told Din that you would talk to him about it when you've had more time to process everything. He wants to know for himself if this man can be trusted after keeping something so monumental from you, but for now he will trust you and hope that's enough.

The old man then adds, “I've heard so much about The Force but I've never seen it used before.”

You chuckle, your body rumbling into Din's as you stroke one of the child's long ears. “You haven’t seen the half of it with our little green bean, old man. He’s the most remarkable little kid in the galaxy.” The child smiles up at you when you say this, so naturally you lean forward to kiss his wispy haired little head. Din's chest swells with love at the sight of it.

“She’s not just saying that. It’s a special little critter,” Peli agrees, one hand stroking the wild gray hair of her companion. Then she looks directly at Din. “Why don’t you let us care for him tonight so that the two of you may find proper rest.”

Din begins to argue, “We sleep just fine with him.”

She counters again, “Yes but this can give you a chance to really sleep through the night. Just for tonight. I mean no offense, Mando, but you both look like you could use it.”

Din wants desperately to retort with a snarky inquiry as to how she knows what he looks like, but he holds his tongue and instead waits for you to answer. To see what your opinion is, and listen to it with respect. Almost like real parents. Like a husband and wife, he thinks against his will.

After mulling this over for a moment, you finally respond with your thoughts. “I think it should be up to the kid where he wants to sleep. If he’s excited about a sleepover then sure, but if he seems uncomfortable it’s probably best he stay home with us.”

“Well, little guy, what do ya say? You wanna camp out with your old auntie Peli and, well gee, I dunno what we should call Richard.” Peli looks at her companion curiously.

“You can just call me 'old man', kiddo. That’s what your mama always called me.” Richard offers a little chuckle along with this.

“I'm not his mama,” you blurt rather sharply, mood shifting to a saddened tone, "but what I wouldn't give to be."

Din notices how tense you get when you say that, hearing the pain in your voice. He feels a little guilty then, knowing that you're denying the title mostly to appease him and his creed. The arm he has around you tightens, and he leans in to whisper in your ear, “Cyar’ika, you don’t have to-”

“As far as I’m concerned,” Peli interjects with an almost dismissive wave of the hand, “the two of you are more like parents to him than anyone else in the galaxy. Who else provides him with a home? Feeds him? Loves him? Knows him?”

Din's heart feels strangled at that last word. Know. What a significance that word has in his culture. Love is one thing. Love is so intense and passionate and can, unfortunately, be sometimes fleeting. But to know someone is another thing entirely. The love is there of course, but the knowing is what makes that love last forever. That is why a Mandalorians says 'ni kar'taylir darasuum' in lieu of 'I love you'. Because it is so much more than that. There's no way that Peli could have known how much that phrase would impact him, could she? It feels so directed at him. But perhaps Din is feeling sensitive around the subject of the child to begin with.

Richard nods in agreement with Peli, getting up to come squat down and speak directly to the child in your lap, the fire a backdrop to his image. “I was adopted,” he tells the green baby, “and I know that the love I felt from my parents was more real to me than any sort of biological connection I have with the ones who made me. They provided a home where I was loved, respected, and nurtured. A home where I was allowed to grow and be myself. You see, I never felt like I fit in very much on Earth. Which is why I found a way to come here. But when I was a little one like you, my parents made me feel like I could fit in anywhere.”

The kid seems to be soaking in this information, looking up at the old man with wide eyes and little babbles.

You make a choked little sound and grab around for Din’s gloved hand, squeezing once you take hold. He knows then that you’re not really okay and you’re hiding it very well.

“We are his caretakers,” Din starts with the same speech he’s been giving to everyone for months, a very small sliver of him hating himself for saying it, “and should he choose to stay with us we would gladly become his parents. But it is my duty to find his people and bring him to his own kind. He must decide for himself what path he wishes to take. By creed, so it must be.”

“He’s just a baby though,” your grandfather argues, brow furrowed. "He can't possibly understand your creed. All that he understands is that you are the ones who love him right now."

Din starts to get a little defensive at that. “He’s fifty years old. He’s completely aware of what's going on around him and he’s very smart. Technically yes, he’s a baby, but he’s also more capable than the average infant.”

“You haven’t seen what he can do, Grandad,” you agree, adding, “Mando's creed is a sacred thing that none of us are equipped to understand. He's doing what is right by the kid in the best way he knows how, and that's enough.”

Although it must pain you to defend something Din knows you do not wish to be a reality, he's very thankful that you choose to back him up in this moment. You really are his partner. Wife, his mind repeats against his will.

Richard nods to Din, seeming to back off after you've put your foot down. “Well I’m sure the two of you know what you’re doing. But we’d love to watch the little one for you both tonight.”

“What do you say? You wanna have a sleepover with them, love bug?” You ask down to the kid, smile warming when he looks up at you wide-eyed. “Mando and I are fine with it, sweetheart. Might be fun to break up the routine a little.”

The kid seems to think this over before looking up at you with a little nod, squeezing your fingers with a tiny hand as he makes affirmative noises.

Conversation and drinks carry on for a while longer. After an hour the kid is just about tuckered out completely, snuggled up to Din’s left inside of the pram. He’s wrapped in his small blanket with the lava meerkat plush, eyes fighting desperately to stay open so he can be part of the fun. Din chuckles, reaching his free hand out to stroke the kid’s ear with a gloved finger. He feels endeared, recalling how it felt to be a child wanting to be included in the confusing but exciting world of the adults around him. “I know you want to stay up and see what the grown ups are doing but it’s okay to go to sleep, ad’ika. Rest. There will be plenty for you to learn tomorrow.”

As if this truly gives the child permission to fall asleep, his huge eyes slip closed and his breathing begins to deepen after a content little sigh escapes from his tiny mouth.

The adults bid each other a good night, and suddenly Din is completely alone on the Razor Crest with you. Well, alone save for the cat. It feels odd to be without the child, an awkward bashfulness he's not used to is rising in him. He feels a little nervous about what he wants to do next, but every instance when he has acted on an impulse with you thus far has been met favorably. So he decides to just go for it.

"I would like to speak to you about something," he says, knowing he sounds a little awkward.

You've begun pulling out the light clothing you like to sleep in from the compartment you took over all those months ago, but you turn to give him your full attention. "What's up?"

"I would like to understand you better," he says simply.

You grin a little, "How so?"

"If you truly will never return to Earth, then I would like to ensure that you do not forget about it. It is where you came from, and that has value. I know that a part of you does miss things about it. I do not want your home world to only be a place full of bad memories, and I feel that deep down you do not want that either."

Your grin widens as you cross the room to touch a hand to his chest plate, eyes casting upward. "I like how you say you want to understand me better, but you can read me better than anyone."

Din shrugs, "Not always. Tell me what a couple would do together on Earth if they were granted a night's respite from being foster parents. How does courtship work on your world?"

You grin as you mull this over for a long moment. "Well, it all depends on the couple. There are countless ways that romantic partners can enjoy time together on Earth, so it's really about what both people are interested in. We call the act of setting aside a special time just for the two of you a 'date'. Earth couples do all kinds of things together that may constitute a date. Walks, games, dancing. But one of the most common things is probably what we call dinner and a movie, which was always my personal favorite. Usually a couple will go out to eat somewhere nice and dress up to impress each other in their nicest clothes. Then they go to a movie theater to see whatever is out that they both would like to see."

Din nods in understanding. You told him once that the 'movie theater' was your favorite place to go on Earth. The place where you could slip away from your family's emotional abuse and escape into another world entirely for a few hours. He has only a vague understanding of what a place like that would be like, but he has a complete understanding of what it once meant to you.

"The ones you have on your personal device? Would they be sufficient for this?"

"Din Djarin, are you asking me out on a date?"

"If that is really what it is called, then yes. We've already had dinner, so I suppose we can skip to the movie part."

“Well, we are kind of limited in the selection. Back home I had hundreds of movies in my physical collection. I only have a small handful on that thing. I try not to watch them very often because it drains the battery, and I'm afraid I'll get sick of them too soon.”

“I would like for you to show me whichever one is your favorite of those options. We can get comfortable in the cot, if that sounds agreeable to you.”

“Ha,” you laugh a bit, “that's a no-brainier. I've got the perfect choice. But before we get started I'm going to have to explain a few Earth things just to catch you up to speed. Starting with a little place we like to call Ancient Egypt.”

Curled up in the cot with you pressed to his side, Din enjoys watching the tale of treasure-seeking adventurers uncovering ancient curses, while also uncovering a romance, far more than he'd realized was possible. After first it is a little difficult to understand but eventually he allows himself to get fully engrossed in the story playing on the small screen, even with the differences in speech and culture. It's easy enough to piece things together when he needs to, and the visible emotions of the characters are able to surpass any language barriers.

Afterwards he's full of questions.

“This Brendan Fraiser, he must be one of the most important- what did you call them? Actors? He must be very important.”

You chuckle, a fondness in your eyes as they meet his beneath the beskar. “He is to me and some other nerds who love his movies but unfortunately not as popular as you would think.”

“And how did they create that face in the sand? Was that real?”

“No, they used computers to create that. The technology is called CGI, or computer-generated imagery.”

“Interesting. It looked real. Odd that your culture uses computers for that and not more useful things,” Din says thoughtfully.

You scoff, “That's not the only thing we use computers for. But yes, we tend to use our technology for more frivolous endeavors. That doesn't mean that it's easy. I certainly don't have the skills for something like that. It takes a long time and a lot of people to make it look that good.”

“Very strange,” he muses.

The grin that spreads across the bottom half of your face is lovely as you say, “Well, Din Djarin, this was your first experience watching an Earth movie from beginning to end. I have to ask, what was your favorite part?”

“Mm,” he hums as he ponders, and then says almost bashfully, “I think my favorite part was the romance. I very much enjoyed watching the two characters fall in love. The way that they would look at each other with admiration was very believable. It... it reminded me of us.”

You can't help but grin lovingly at him, chest swelling. “That's my favorite part as well. I used to watch that movie as a little girl and yearn for a romance like that. I always wanted to go on an adventure and find the love of my life.”

“Do you feel like I am the love of your life?” He asks then, voice soft and hopeful in the modulated tone of his helmet. He finds himself wishing again that you could see his eyes again, see the sincerity there. Thoughts like that are worrisome if they do not go unchecked.

“I do,” you say honestly, “and this has certainly been an adventure.”

Din doesn't say more, simply nuzzling his beskar covered head into the side of your bare one.

“You know,” you say when a moment of silence goes by, “after a date it's usually customary to have sex.”

“Oh it is, is it?” Din's grin is hopefully obvious in his voice, a bare hand already snaking it's way up under the hem of your shirt.

*****

The handful of times you've had sex with your cosmic companion, you've never categorized what the two of you do together as making love. In fact, you're certain that you've never “made love” with anybody. The phrase always felt so corny on your tongue. It would make you cringe to hear it said in a film or read the phrase in a book. The concept seemed entirely fictional, like something sad women fantasize about in romance novels when in reality they have to go to bed each night with men who can barely make them cum let alone have emotionally compelling sex.

But on this night, you and Din make love in every imaginable sense of the phrase. Every touch is soft and deliberate, fueled by the pure emotion the two of you feel for one another. As if the connection between you is the realest it's ever been up to this point. It's pure bliss. Taking your time undressing one another, admiring each other's bodies as slowly as possible. He doesn't remove the helmet tonight, and it feels as if you're able to make eye contact with him even through the visor. Perhaps it's all in your head but each time your eyes meet the black T in the center of his metal clad face, you know you've locked eyes with him. The two of you move so carefully, treating each other's forms with the utmost respect.

With you on top and his nimble fingers playing with your clit, you're able to easily reach an orgasm in record time. Marveling at the realization that cumming with Din has become the easiest thing in the world. That woman from Earth who couldn't cum with a partner to save her life? Who's she? You don't know her anymore, that part of you is so distantly in the past.

His own orgasm arrives shortly after and you happily lap up the small puddle of him from his toned belly before your tongue trails all the way up his torso. Kissing and licking every salty ounce of tan skin that you have access to. As much as you long to kiss his lips, you find yourself pleased that he hasn't removed the helmet tonight. You get to actually look at his naked body in all it's glory for once, not just in passing. Usually you're blindfolded when he's this exposed.

“You have so many scars,” you muse, idly running a finger along a diagonal one that starts just below his right nipple, slanting down towards the center of his sternum. “You told me once that you have so many that you lose track, but that can't be true for all of them. Some must have a story.”

“They do,” he agrees softly, his own fingers lost in your hair. “Not all of them are stories I'd like to remember.”

“I guess that's fair. But I'd love to hear more about your past. What was your life really like before the kid and I came along?”

“Lonely,” he whispers.

“Always? There wasn't anyone?”

“I was a different man then, but there was someone a very long time ago. I was young and foolish.”

“So you have an ex you regret?”

“I do not understand the question.”

“An ex-girlfriend or lover? As in no longer a thing but once was? You said you hadn't slept with anyone in nearly ten years. Who was she? Or he?”

Din's head tilts up thoughtfully. “I suppose Xi'an counts as that, but I never loved Xi'an. Not in the way that I love you. I cared about her, but I couldn't be what she needed. She and I ran together on the same crew. We worked as hired guns, long before I was a bounty hunter. The things we did back then... I am not very proud of them. As I said, I was young and foolish. I was also very angry. Angry still for what happened to my family and my home world. I took out a lot of that anger on those jobs, and I enjoyed the pain I inflicted. It felt good to make others suffer because I had suffered. So with Xi'an it was a constant cycle of fighting, drinking, and fucking. There was plenty of lust, but never real love between us. When I decided that I'd finally had enough of that life, I left and she didn't take it well.”

“Wow, I was not expecting that. Thank you for sharing.”

“You're welcome,” he nods, gesturing towards his head. “My helmet was also a constant source of contention. She was offended that I would not take it off for her. She mocked my creed on a regular basis, and I did not take kindly to that after awhile.”

A small pang of jealous worry strikes your heart, but you push through it with hope that you're right about the answer to your next question. “So you never did the blindfold thing with her?”

Din looks at you sharply, causing a shiver to run the length of your spine as his voice becomes deadly serious. “Never. You are the only person I have ever done that with. What we have is different. You are the only woman I have ever called my cyar'ika. Ner cyare.”

Snuggling into him, your heart soars a little. You'd hoped that was the case, but until now it's never been brought up. “I don't ever want the helmet to be a source of contention for us. I would never mock your creed, Din. That's so cruel.”

Din releases a breath, sighing happily. “And that is why what we have is unique. I don't know why you respect my way of life so much, but I am thankful that you do.”

A shrug finds your shoulders. “I just think it's silly to shame others for being themselves. If this is how you choose to live and you do not force your way of thinking onto me, then I have no right to judge you or try to steer you away from it. This is part of what makes you you, and I cannot say that I love you if I do not love all of you.”

“I do not know what I've done to deserve you, but I thank whatever deity is listening that I have.”

His arms tighten around you, and soon after the two of you drift off to a peaceful sleep.

*****

“So I have to ask you, Mando. What are your intentions with my granddaughter?” Richard asks Din a few days later when the two of them are alone in Hangar 3-5. The women have taken the child into the town of Mos Eisley to pick up more food, and the men opted to stay behind.

“I'm not sure I understand.” Din says honestly, confused a little by his Earth phrasing.

“I know that she loves you a great deal, Mandalorian. I have never seen her like this before. She's happy with you. Happier than I think she's ever been.” Richard's voice grows incredibly serious, the old man regarding Din with piercing eyes. “I would like to know if you intend for things to remain that way.”

Din is taken aback by this sudden line of questioning, but he tries his best to answer honestly, “I cannot control her happiness. No one can or should control the will of another. But I do intend to be by her side for a long as she will have me. I will provide her with anything that is within my ability to do so. She means more to me than I believe I could describe.”

Richard mulls over this response, seeming pleased with it but not entirely. “What of marriage?”

Kriffing Hell, why is this at the forefront of everyone's minds as of late? “I believe it is too early for that,” Din offers, weary of where this is going.

“But have you considered it?”

Almost every day. “It is something I have contemplated, yes.”

“Well, what's holding you back?”

“As I said, I believe it to be too soon.”

Richard scoffs, “Oh nonsense. The two of you are more in love than I think I've ever seen before. People on Earth get married for far less.”

Din doesn't know how to respond to that at first, feeling both awkward at this sudden grilling and slightly defensive. “Mandalorians do not wed for far less,” he says with a pointed tone. “The bond of riduurok is sacred. Not meant to be taken lightly. She and I must arrive at that conclusion as partners if that is indeed the path our lives are to take. I love your granddaughter. She is a remarkable woman. I may not be ready to ask her that question now, but I would be honored if she were to accept my proposal when the time comes.”

Richard looks him up and down for a long moment before nodding once and holding out his hand. Din takes it as an offer of handshake so he reaches a gloved hand out to accept.

With a grin crawling out from his beard, the old man declares, “That was a test, and you passed.”

“Thank you, I think?” Din says, still half confused.

“You see, I wanted to make sure that she's traveling around with someone who respects her. Thank you for being good to her, and good for her. I've known that girl since the day she was born. She's had a lot of pain in her life and she doesn't need more if it can be helped.”

Din thinks over his next impulse for a moment, seeing an opportunity to ask Richard something that he hasn't felt comfortable bringing up to you. “Since we are already talking about this, I do have a few questions for you about the marriage customs of Earth.”

*****

“You are so good with him,” Peli says as the three of you are making your way back to Hangar 3-5, a droid rolling beside her carrying the food and supplies gathered at the market.

Currently, the kid in question is in your arms and you've been pretending he's a little starship as you mock flying him around in the air. Ever since Din did that with him back on Nevarro, it's become one of the kid's favorite things in the world. Bringing him in for a landing on your hip, you squint over to the older woman through the harsh rays of the binary suns. “I appreciate that,” you say softly, a sadness to your tone that doesn't go unnoticed.

“Have you tried to convince Mando to just keep him? Raise him as your own? The two of you could settle down somewhere and have a nice life with this little boy.” Peli sounds so genuine right now, which throws you off a little. Normally the woman is all quips, now she's speaking so freely of your heart's true desire.

“I'm not going to try and convince Mando of anything. He's aware of my feelings on the subject. I would become this child's mother right now if I had the option. But we agreed to see this through to the end, whatever that end that may be.” At your hip, the kid makes a noise that sounds sad, long ears casting downward. It's obvious that he understands everything that the adults are saying, and your heart sinks. “I'm sorry to talk about you like you're not here, buddy. This is just so complicated. I wish I could make it easier to understand.”

“That's right, tell your mama you want to stay with her and Mando, little fella.” Peli says with a wink down at the kid. “If they're going to leave the choice up to you, then you're going to have to chose one way or the other. What would make you happy, little one?”

The kid's ears perk back up, mouth opening as a little look of realization comes over his face. He says, “patu,” and reaches out for Peli. You hand him over, and she begins playing starship with him the way you had a minute ago.

“And believe me I am not just advocating for this so I can have a sweet little great-grandson like you, but it would definitely be a huge win for me.” She says, swooping him up and down with mouth noises to simulate torpedoes.

“Do you have any children?” You ask tentatively, aware that a subject like this can be touchy.

Peli stops walking all together, a sad look crossing her features. She keeps looking down at Green Bean, never once looking back up at you while she speaks. “I did. A son. He was a X-Wing pilot for the rebellion. I did all the upgrades and tune ups on that thing myself, but it didn't help much. He was lost in the war.”

“I'm sorry Peli. Truly,” your chest tightens, empathy for her loss overcoming you.

“I wasn't sure I'd ever feel alive again after he died. It got a little easier to live each cycle, but I never felt alive. I moved here and opened my hangar to try a fresh start. Then your grandfather stumbled into the cantina asking if anyone needed the work of a good engineer, and life found its way back into my bones after all. Still hurts every damn day, though.” She throws a mournful smile your way, handing the kid back to you. “So take my advice. If you love him, do everything in your power to keep him. And if that doesn't work, just make sure he knows how much you love him while you still have time together.”

“I will heed your advice as much as I can,” you say lamely, unsure of how to feel after such a heavy revelation about your new friend. You instead change focus to the fact that she had referred to herself as a possible great-grandmother to the kid, insinuating the seriousness of her relationship with your grandfather. “So I take it you and my grandfather are happy together?”

Peli's sad facial expression then morphs to one of joy, “I thank The Force every day for bringing us together.”

That answer is enough for you, nodding to the woman. “I am glad he finally found that with someone. My grandmother was not a very good wife to him.”

“She sounds like a real bitch if you ask me,” she laughs, sounding more like the woman you've gotten to know over the last couple of days. The kind of woman you wish had been your grandmother. You're happy to have her in the family now, even if it is unofficial.

You can't help but laugh as well, taking the child back from her. “You don't know the half of it, Peli. You don't know the half of it.”

Then as your own laugh dies down, you can hear the laughter of your two favorite men in this universe up ahead at Hangar 3-5. As your party makes way into the circular docking bay, you see the two of them tinkering with something over at one of the many work benches. Sparks are flying up around them, illuminating their figures with little cascades of dancing light. The golden colors bounce off of Din's armor and your grandfather's safety goggles, and when Din says something indistinguishable Richard claps a hand on his shoulder with another bout of uproarious laughter.

The sight of it fills your heart with so much love, but the emotion is so much more complicated than that. Seeing your family, all of it, together like this is something you never thought you'd get a chance to see. Family was so far removed from your life back on Earth. Here it's beginning to flourish in the way you'd always wished for. As Peli rushes over to greet Richard with a kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of his ass (that part you could have seriously done without), Din looks over to you with a little wave and quickly covers up whatever he'd been working on with a sheet. Looking down at the child in your arms, you can't help but mull over Peli Motto's words of wisdom and hope that whatever comes next will ultimately work out for the best.

“I love you, Green Bean. I really would be your mama if you decide that's what you want, but it's your choice to make. I promise that I would never try to sway you. I'll love you no matter what path you choose. Always.”

*****

Next Chapter

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Masterlist

*****

Taglist:

@jokesonthem | @somewereinthegalaxi | @missbabyjay | @leithatnight | @theyoutubedork | @luc-k-y | @orcasoul | @erissco

[kittyhasskittles]

Day 3 of Nitearmor week: The Mando Bonk of affection (ft my oc Toro in the back)

Bonus Panel:

They're so silly.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Guess

Fandom: Star Wars, The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: PG13, fluff

Word count:

Summary: A game of guessing goes right in every way for you and Din, your kind of friend, sort of boss.

A/N: Day 1 of my fic advent calendar and my first Din Djarin fic on here! Credits to my friend @lokislittlevalkyrie for co-creating the reader character and for our long conversations about her and Din. Keep checking the advent calendar Masterlist for more fics dropping this month. And leave me a little comment to encourage me to keep the fics going 💜💜💜

“Stop scowling.”

“I’m not scowling,” he lied, trying his best to keep his tone neutral even though he was surprised that she knew he was scowling. Lucky guess, he told himself. But how many lucky guesses could one person have about his facial expressions?

“You so were!” She insisted, sinking further back into the novelty ‘chair’ she bought on their last stop. It was a sphere half filled with tiny soft particles that molded itself to the user’s shape. She slouched on it as she continued watching one of her holodramas, something with a murder or speeders (or both) at the heart of the story.

“I was not.”

“If you say so, Din Can,” she said, using her nickname for him. He chuckled reflexively, unable to control his responses to her. Thankfully, his helmet filtered the sound out, saving him the embarrassment of finding humor in the humiliating nickname. He smiled, glad she didn’t know just how many times she’d made him laugh whether by mocking him or making clever remarks in general.

“I do say so.”

She was beautiful. Taking up the creed meant hiding one’s own face from others. To hide what would serve as the basis of others’ first impression of you so that your valor and your character would serve as your defining features. Vanity was not something he was raised with. Yet he knew beauty when it stared him in the eye and called him Din Can everyday. Or Tin Djarin. Buckethead when he really pissed her off.

Dinny Bear when she was intoxicated.

Blood rushed to his cheek when he thought of the last time she did that. She’d gotten very comfortable around him in the months they’d been crew mates. All her initial jitters and jumpiness around him had gone and been replaced with her stubbornness, strange sense of humour, and a level of confidence she didn’t have with him before.

He had to chase her down to even get her to accept the job he was offering her as a travelling mechanic. He’d never heard of one before. And she was quite frightened of him after the kind of interaction they had at Peli’s shop. But he needed a mechanic on board. With the kid in his hands now, it became hard to juggle a failing ship with hunting bounties and caring for a mischievous kid who waited for the moment he took his eyes off him to cause chaos.

It helped to have a mechanic on board at all times. She was wonderful and came approved by Peli. Over time, she became more than his mechanic. A friend, he would be brave enough to say. If he were braver with women, he would say that he’s caught her sneaking glances at him. That he felt her twinkling eyes rove over his armor every now and then. Sometimes he was confident of it. At others, he convinced himself that his mind was clouded by his desire for her. By his desire for her to desire him too.

The matter of his expressions came up once again later after dinner.

“Stop looking so grumpy.”

“You cannot see my face.”

“Yeah but you look grumpy.”

He grunted, turning away from her to focus on the controls. They were on hyperspeed. There was nothing he needed to do with the controls. But to come face to face with her when she told him exactly what he did underneath his helmet was…too much.

“Heyy! Let’s play a game?” She asked, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“Play with Grogu.”

“He’s asleep. And this is not a game for little potatoes.”

He chuckled softly at the nickname and looked up at her again, awaiting her proposal. “What would that be?” He asked.

“A drinking game.”

“Drinking is a game now?”

“Dank farrik! I missed when you used to be quiet. Just listen to me. I’ll guess what your face looks like under your helmet and if I get it right, you should take a sip of your drink. And if I get it wrong, I take a sip. Let’s do it with the Silver Elixir,” she said, getting up from her seat to fetch the bottle from their liquor cabinet they kept locked to keep away from wandering little womp rats.

She returned with the bottle, two glasses and straws. They’d recently taken to drinking together. She bought him a straw a begged him to join her, using her sweet eyes and her adorable pout to convince him. She said she only had drinks with friends and that drinking alone on the razor crest made her feel lonely.

He gave in to her, just like he gave in to their little green crewmate.

She didn’t need to use a straw, of course. Yet she did. When he asked, she said it was so that he didn’t feel lonely drinking through a straw like a kid. Even in her insults, she managed to be sweet.

“Start guessing,” he said impatiently as she sat next to him and looked intently at their glasses to see if they were filled equally.

“Sure, sure… You have dark hair,” she said, passing his drink to him. “Dark brown.”

“A little too obvious, isn’t it?” He asked, knowing she had definitely seen his hair in the trash after he gave himself haircuts and shaved his facial hair.

“Drink up, old man!” She said, lips wide in a grin as she knew already that she was right.

He snorted, but followed through, taking a sip of the strong liquor. “Alright. Next.”

“You have….big green ears.”

“Wrong,” he huffed, smiling nevertheless at her sense of humour.

“Damn it! I should’ve known they wouldn’t fit inside the helmet,” she said, taking a sip. She was smiling too, and unlike his, it was out in the open and as bright as the stars around them.

“Those were two descriptors. Big and green. Take one more sip,” he argued. He didn’t particularly want to get her drunk, but he liked how adorable she was when intoxicated. One of their drinking sessions ended with her snuggling up to him because she couldn’t find the kid to snuggle like a children’s stuffed animal.

“What? No! It was one guess, so it’s one sip.”

“Again, you guessed the size and color of my ears and they were both wrong. Take a sip.”

She rolled her eyes, but complained, taking another sip. She leaned close and narrowed her eyes at him, as though focusing on his helmet would reveal what was underneath. He smiled unconsciously, taking in the beauty of her from up close. The light in her eyes, the way her eyebrows knit together when she was in deep thought, lips that impressed him with the wittiest remarks… Lips he wanted desperately to pull to his, to devour and make moan his name.

“No moustache.”

“Hmmm….” He hummed, thinking of how he could sort the point for this. He *did* have a moustache, but that was only now. There were times when he shaved it off completely. “It’s complicated. I have a moustache now, but I change it quite frequently. So, half a sip.”

“If I have to take half a sip, so should you.”

“No, I don’t,” he scoffed at her warped logic. Here he was, being nice and giving her some credit even though she was wrong. But she was trying to take advantage of it.

“Yeah you should. If I’m taking half a sip because I was half right and half wrong, you should also take a sip because you’re half right and half wrong.”

“No. That’s not how it works. I have facial hair now, which means you are wrong. I should’ve made you take a full sip, but I decided to make a concession because I am sometimes fully shaven.”

“Dank Farrik! You’re such a lightweight. Just say you can’t handle your liquor and I’ll let you go,” she taunted, a smirk plying at her lips.

“Oh please, I can handle my liquor much better than you can. Here,” he said, drinking the strong undiluted alcohol like it was water in a few big sips. He slammed the glass against the control panel surface and shrugged. “See, I’m good. You are the one who gets drunk after one portion of the Silver Elixir and terrorizes the kid.”

She gasped, as though he made a much bigger accusation. “I don’t terrorize the kid! I just give him extra cuddles and kisses. He enjoys them very much. It’s called affection, Tin Can. Ever heard of it?”

He tilted his head at her in the way that sometimes made her swallow audibly. “So you think that because of my way of life, I have never experienced affection?”

She opened and closed her mouth quickly, as though her mind and lips were in disagreement about whether or not what they were about to say was appropriate. He smiled under his helmet, proud of himself for stumping her. She talked a lot. Since he was a quiet man, everyone else was talkative in comparison. But she was the voice he heard the most as they lived together on the Razor Crest and their other occupant communicated mostly in coos and squeals.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Say what. Since the drinking thing was already disproportionate anyway because I’m not guessing your features and I can handle my liquor much better than you do….lets change the rules.” He took a deep breath, afraid of the consequences of his words but unable to miss this opportunity. “For each correct guess you make, I’ll give you a kiss.”

“You’re kidding,” she said, scoffing.

“I’m not known for my humor.”

She took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. Kriff, the things she did without even knowing! He thought he could die from the anticipation of hearing her next guess. Would she guess something ridiculous like big green ears to make sure she doesn’t have to kiss him? Or would she make a very obviously correct guess?

“You have…” she trailed in a softer voice, looking at him almost coyly. “…pink lips.”

Not the most obvious guess. Not all humans had pink lips. And he could easily not be human. He didn’t remember telling her he was… But if she was going for something for a higher likelihood of being correct… Kriff he hoped she was. “Do you want me to turn the lights off or blindfold you?” He asked, conveying indirectly that she was right.

“Wh-whaaat? Why?” She sputtered, looking at him with those pretty eyes, vulnerability brimming in her expressions.

Did he get the wrong idea? Maybe her obvious guesses weren’t because she wanted to be right so she could kiss him… Maybe it was just the product of her usual playful nature.

“Because I will have to take my helmet off when I kiss you,” he proceeded to say, even as his heart beat faster with the anxiety of how this could go. They were adults. It it was a misunderstanding, he would simply get over it and do his best to not make it awkward between them. “And you cannot see me.”

“I…” she trailed off before letting out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“Again. Not known for my humor,” he said, letting a smile seep into his words. She was so kriffing adorable, looking all nervous like a blurrg stuck in a doorway. “You don’t have to, of course. I can give you something else. Ten credits, perhaps?”

“What, no. A deal is a deal.”

“Then tell me, my dear mechanic. Lights out or blindfold?”

“Lights out.”

Pity. He was hoping to see her pretty face when he kissed her. Not moving from where he was, he pressed the buttons on the control panel, turning all the lights out. In the pitch black of outer space, he could see nothing. Perfect.

“What can you see?” He asked, just to be sure.

“Nothing,” she said, in her voice so low and soft that it was swallowed up by the darkness. What entity wouldn’t want to swallow up something his pretty mechanic put out? Every word she said, every touch of her fingers against the trees and rocks and flowers. If he were air, he would luxuriate in her scent. If he were water, he would caress her skin and play with her hair as he cleansed her. If he were fire, he would creep into her skin, warm her up when she needed. But he was nothing but man. So, he would have to satisfy himself with a kiss from her lips.

“Are you sure?” She asked as he stepped forward to her.

“I am. Are *you* sure?”

There was silent for a moment before she said, “Yes. Kiss me.”

Needing nothing else, he took his helmet off and placed it carefully on his seat. His heart thudded against his ribs, and his breaths grew labored. And he hadn’t even touched her yet.

In all his years, he had never kissed anyone. It was not part of the culture of his people what with the metal barriers that kept them from it. He remembered the sweet kisses on his forehead and cheeks from before he took the creed. But that was not what his heart desired. He wanted the kind of thing she watched on her holopad, all the holodramas with characters who showed their desire through an intense kiss that left their partner speechless.

He reached forward and found her hand. She gasped softly, the quietness of the ship letting him in on her soft sounds. He caressed up her arm, enjoying the slight tremble of her skin beneath the tips of his fingers. He stopped at her neck and allowed himself to cradle it in his hand. He felt her lean closer and he reciprocated, taking the final step. He tilted his head to his right feeling that she tilted to her right.

As he closed the gap between them, he felt her warm breath on his skin. He swallowed, his lips parting from how nervous he was. What if he was no good? What if he didn’t have good breath? What if he’s such a bad kisser that she— he gasped softly as she pressed her lips against his. In an instant, she quietened the sounds his head. The fast beating of his heart, he realized was now from the effect of proximity to her more than his insecurities.

She placed one hand on his shoulder and wrapped her other arm around his waist. He let out a shaky breath at the intimacy of their contact and let his other hand trail down her back. She pressed herself closer against his beskar clad chest, making him wish he had the forethought to toss that bit of his armor too. He wanted to feel her. Every bit of her that she was offering up to him like she truly believed he was deserving.

Her lips were soft, just as he’d dreamt them to be. He’d never kissed before. It was an act saved for married couples in the covert, as only your spouse could see you with your helmet off. He had married friends who waxed poetry about the magic of kissing. How they felt like nothing and nobody mattered other than your partner. How it turned you into putty in their hands. He thought it was exaggerated… Until now.

He cupped her cheek, her face fitting in his hand and making him feel a new sense of protectiveness towards her. He’d protected her before, sure, but this felt different. This was something to do with a need to be gentle with her. To cherish her and treasure her. She licked his lips and he parted them instinctively, letting her tongue between his lips. He shuddered as her fingers threaded through his hair. He whimpered and pulled her closer to himself in the moment of vulnerability, using her as a crutch to support him. He’d never been touched like that before…

Her fingers explored his hair and he allowed himself to relax in his arms, even letting himself give her comforting caresses of her back. He felt her melt into his arms as their kiss deepened. She tasted of the silver elixir first, but when they were both a little along the way, he began to taste something that was distinctly her. Something sweet, mixing with the fragrance of her citrusy perfume to further dull his senses.

It was soft, but electrifying. He poured his passions into the kiss, exploring her with his tongue and luxuriating in the sweet little whimpers she let out. The technicalities stopped mattering. He was here, holding the girl he’d been pining for, lips connected as the unlikely result of a stupid game. That moment was all that mattered and her sounds of satisfaction told him that he wasn’t doing so bad after all.

She pulled back in a while and they let out the breaths they’d be holding. She let out a laugh and he smiled, comforted by her job. He didn’t even know he’d been holding his breath. He’d forgetting the necessity for breathing as he found her lips.

“You have…a big nose,” she said, confusing him.

“Huh?” He asked, his mind still clouded from her kiss.

“I get another kiss if I’m right, Dim Djarin,” she teased, pointing to his obliviousness when it came to things of this nature.

“Right,” he said, grinning as he kissed her again. He needed to play games with her more often.

[the-mandawhor1an]

Lovebound

Chapter 13 – Guided by the stars, connected by the force

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Chapter summary: After their visit to the festival, a lot of things are about to happen for both Din and Arana, who has decided to leave ‘Maia’ in the past. While accepting her heritage is only the first step, the brunette is about to learn more about Mandalorians and even more about being with one. 

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! a little morning wood never hurt nobody; Peli is absolutely unhinged in the beginning; horny idiots; consumption of alcohol; virginity loss; yes, there is smut; Din is the king of consent; dick pronouns; 

Words: 16.3k (I’m sorry)

A/N: Yeah well… it was bound to happen. They’re in love and Din absolutely wants his cyar’ika to feel said love. Lot's of Mando'a in this, translations are explained by the characters. Maia will be referred to by Arana from now on.

The night had been short and yet there was nothing for Arana to complain about. Her head felt a little heavy when it lifted off of Din’s chest to see the light of day shining through underneath the door. Lying on his body, feeling his heart beat and his steady breathing felt incredible, so intimate in this tiny storage room. Din seemed to also slowly wake up, groaning underneath her and trying to move, but seemingly realizing he had another human lying on top of him. They both ignored the commotion outside of the storage room for now, focused on the other hidden in the darkness of the tiny, windowless room. »Are you awake?« he asked into the darkness. 

»Good morning, I –« she was about to answer when there was a shuffle and then loud bangs as Peli hammered against the metal door that separated the two from the mechanic. »Wake up! Got you two some food. Put some clothes on before you come out, for the love of everything. I’ve seen way too much bare skin yesterday.« The brunette flinched on top of Din from the noise, he himself groaned a little louder. Neither wanted details, although Arana halfway expected Peli to make another comment. The brunette started lifting herself off of his body when she realized something was pressing into her abdomen when her weight shifted. For just a moment she froze, a little overwhelmed with the realization that her partner must’ve been a little too excited about her being on top of him. She quickly dismounted afterwards and she thanked the Force for the darkness in the little chamber that hid her blushed cheeks in this moment.  

With one hand she felt for her clothes, only to realize in this moment she had left them in the bathroom and there was only her dress in here. »Shit… my clothes.« There was another flinch when she heard Din’s ‘I just woke up’ raspy voice when his head turned to her, asking »do you need help with your dress?« As if the sensation of his hard-on hadn’t been enough to make her want to whimper, his voice was making it very hard to keep her composure. »Can I have your cape?« She didn’t want to squeeze into the dress for just a few steps. There was a moment of silence. Was he thinking what she would look like wrapped in just his cape? »Sure.« 

»Hello-o? Are you alive in there? Don’t make me come in!« »We are, relax,« Din growled towards the door where Peli was apparently waiting for some kind of response. »Maia will be out in a minute.« Oh yeah, the mechanic was blissfully unaware of what had happened yesterday, including the name change. Peli probably had something wildly different in mind when it came to what the two lovebirds had done. A random woman’s name would have made her assume they had a third one in here, or something similar. Din’s body might have appreciated a different approach for last night, to be fair. It was for the best if they wouldn’t talk about this… ever. »I’ll need another minute in here,« Din let her know. Arana had a suspicion why, his not so little issue. She took his cape and got up to wrap it around her, tucking one of the corners in so it would stay in place. 

With Din still sitting, one leg angled, she leaned down to give him a kiss. »I love you… and I’m sorry.« »No need to apologize.« Did he know why? »I’ll distract her,« she promised him and got back up to her feet. She felt a little bad for putting him into this situation, but then again, she didn’t expect to be confronted with an erection so soon. After Din had put on his helmet, she took a deep breath and opened the door, practically dancing out of the storage room. The door shut behind her fairly quickly. »Good morning, Peli,« she greeted the mechanic with an overly joyous tone in her voice. »Someone’s in a very good mood today,« the mechanic commented, a steaming mug of caf in her hand. »Why wouldn’t I be? Yesterday was so much fun, and I saw fireworks for the first time ever, we enjoyed some food, good music…« she slowly walked over to the bathroom, making sure the mechanic’s eyes stayed with her.  

The door to the bathroom stayed open so the women could continue talking. Peli would respect her enough to not come looking. »I clearly choose the wrong men to be with…« »Maybe you do,« Arana replied, putting on her underwear and pants. »The necklace looks good,« came from the kitchen. »Thanks, the pendant is made of Beskar.« »I saw the symbol before… it’s on Mando’s armor, right?« Just for a second the brunette’s head popped through the door way, grinning ear to ear. The mechanic mimicked the expression before Arana returned into the bath to put the rest of her robes on. The rustling was audible in the hallway and probably also the kitchen. »The stars really aligned for us to be here around a holiday. The fireworks were beautiful.« »You saw them? Thought I had seen you and Mando leave the market fairly early.« 

Of course the older woman assumed the two had retreated to the hangar for other activities and Arana’s behavior just enforced that thought. That became painfully obvious when the mechanic rummaged through her cabinets, asking »so how does that work with you and Mando… Business up top, party below or–« »Peli!« »Come on! Let a woman be curious. It’s not like he would tell me anything about his love life.«

»Morning,« Din announced, somehow managing to sneak up on Motto who subsequently screamed. »Holy Batha-shit,« she cursed, clutching her heart. »Didn’t expect you to just stand there. I thought Maia had knocked you out for the day.« Din wanted to explain »I just need longer to–« »Put your clothes on, I get it. Was quicker to take them off yesterday, huh?« Peli finished, making Arana bite her lip while she was still hidden behind a wall. With all fabric now in place, she could reunite with the other two. »So,« the mechanic reiterated, »did the helmet stay on or not? I can’t see how that’s romantic. Not that I would judge you if you’re into that, or if Maia is.«  

»Actually–« Arana pranced down the hallway towards the kitchen, putting emphasis on every step. »It’s not so much about the helmet staying on than it is about the face not being seen. You probably know an embarrassing amount of solutions for that problem.« Peli gave her a look and Din’s helmet seemed to turn to her in slow-motion. To be frank, he was a little surprised and confused why she would insinuate they had been intimate. And did so with a straight face while he was cooking under his helmet. 

»Huh, so you’re not as prudish as I thought. But how can you make sure that he’s appealing? Don’t tell me love is blind or some pudu like that. I’ve been with some men I would have thanked for wearing a helmet, or at least a paper bag. Absolutely hideous, it was almost unbearable. No offense, Mando.« Arana stifled a chuckle while Din’s posture seemed to indicate a toneless sigh. No, he was absolutely gorgeous underneath the armor and fabric. Warm, comfortable, and hard where it mattered. What? »I just know. Let’s focus on something else. I – Maia isn’t a thing any more. To cut a long story short, I recently found out my parents were Mandalorians which kind of makes me one too; my name is Arana.«

»Wait, Arana?« Peli pulled a face of confusion. »Not sure I like that name, Maia sounds better. Besides, if you’re a Mandalorian, shouldn’t you be in armor?« Arana shook her head no. »It’s not that easy. I don’t just get one.« She exchanged a look with Din. »The only Mandalorians we know won’t allow me to have one, because I never learned to live by their Creed.. I’m not sure I would find it comfortable, either.« 

The mechanic hummed. »I still like Maia more, but that’s not important. I got y’all some breakfast, extra protein to replenish after yesterday.« Din scoffed underneath the helmet, this time audibly for the two women. »Seriously?« he grumbled while Arana pressed her lips together, watching as he took his bowl. »I’d love to see your face right now, Mando,« Peli teased. »We’re training after breakfast,« Din let his partner know and retreated back into the room they had stayed in, far enough away for him to take the helmet off without his face being seen. The women sat by the dining table and Arana took a closer look at what Peli had brought them. It smelled sweet and admittedly tasty, but the texture was hard to describe. An amorphous, beige mass. 

»You’ll have to explain to me again. You’re a Mandalorian. Okay, got it. New name, also got that, even if I think the other one fits better. Shouldn’t there be someone looking for you? I may not know much about Mandalorians but they don’t have children to just toss out into the galaxy. They’re not Jedi.« Ouch. Arana stuck her spoon into the mass before her and took the first bite, delighted to find the sweet taste relatively subtle. It felt rich and like it would fill her up nicely. She began explaining. »Judging by what Mando told me, children are invaluable to Mandalorians. I think I have to explain a little more about what happened to me. I was taken from my family by Imperials. I assume they both died and nobody that would have known me remained. So no one came looking when I broke out.« »I’m sorry, Sweetheart. You didn’t deserve that. Damn Imperials.« After a deep breath and a glance over to where Din was hidden behind the wall, Arana mumbled »what child deserves to be taken from their family.« Was her partner listening? She went for another bite while Peli mused on. 

»You caught a Mandalorian regardless of whether your family might have lost you.« Arana shook her head and chuckled, a little too amused with the wording and the memory of their playful banter up on Peli’s roof yesterday. »Caught. Like it was my sole doing that led to us being together now.« »You’ve not seen how he was before he showed up here with you. Let me tell you: The difference is night and day.« Although it was exhausting to speak with her at times, Peli’s blunt but honest approach to conversation somehow made it easier for Arana to talk about the difficult things. Like her family. The mechanic continued. »You could get married and they would accept you, right? Even if it would be cruel to hide such a pretty face underneath a helmet.« »I know the helmet thing is strange at first but I got used to talking to one relatively quickly. Makes Mando a little harder to read but I’m getting the hang of it. Not sure how it would change if I had one on, too.« 

The woman opposite of her took a sip of her drink, her non-existent eyebrows moving a little down. »I can’t picture you at a wedding with the helmets on, to be honest – but I’m not trying to be ignorant. It’s your choice. Can’t deny that you're good for him.« The reassurance felt nice, to have confirmation that the brunette had a positive impact on him instead of being a burden. Not that Din had made her feel as such, sometimes she just doubted herself. »No offense taken. All of that has time anyway. In the meantime I enjoy being around him, he makes me feel safe. Loving him sure helps.« It was a little reminder to herself in a way, and she wanted to say it out loud in front of someone. Would she even want to marry him to be part of the Watch? And more importantly, did Din even think about marrying at all? 

Peli would agree. »Yeah, it has time. And if you ever have children I’m very willing to babysit them. Not for free of course, I can’t afford that, but for a good discount.« Arana took a deep breath, albeit silently. She didn’t know. She shouldn’t know. »Be careful what you offer, we might get back to that in the future. You’re just interested in setting up a little petting zoo, aren’t you?« Banter was a welcome distraction from the short pain she felt in her chest. Peli took the bait, laughing. »Come on, can you blame me? If you show up with cute, cuddly little guys I’d be stupid to not make one. We could even share profits. Didn’t get to say goodbye to the little guy.« Another ouch, especially if Din could hear them. She could have told the mechanic that she might get to see him again one day, but in the prospect of her partner evesdropping she bit her tongue. She didn’t want to put Din’s hopes up so soon. If it was up to his decision they’d be on the way to get the little one back from Luke right now.

Breakfast was finished and Arana looked over to the ajar door. »Cyare, are you ready?« There was a rustle and a groan and Din emerged from the room, helmet on and the empty bowl in his hand. »Yes, let’s go.« The brunette rose from her seat as well, giving her partner a once-over. If he had listened in on the conversation, he was keeping any thoughts to himself. His posture seemed normal, a little tense but that could still be from when Peli had teased him. Arana couldn’t ask him with the mechanic around. 

»We need to find a suitable spot for the training,« Din let her know. He was right, they couldn’t just start swinging sabers without making sure they couldn’t cause any collateral. »We should probably leave the city, where it’s quiet enough to focus,« was Arana’s only wish. She would need a little quiet if she had to teach Din about sabers. No teasing came from Peli this time around, not even a comment about the two leaving for some privacy again. Arana vividly remembered what the mechanic had said on their first trip out of the city, where she and Din were barely more than strangers. I can tell why Mando wants to take you with him. She understood the implications back then, but now knowing that Mando had watched her at the time, it made sense. And now, why would she mind if he gave her longing looks? 

Down by the hangar, she opened her ship and jumped up to the cockpit, letting her legs hang down the hull while her torso was inside, looking for her sabers and belt. The suns were up high already and she would need her cloak to not get sunburnt when they would be out there. She left her gloves in the ship, deeming them not necessary for the time being. Her partner was just leaned against the hangar wall, as nonchalant as he always was, and still – it felt like his eyes had been on her for a moment. »I could teach you some Mando’a,« he offered while she still hung in her ship, looking for her second saber. »Does that mean you’ll finally tell me what idiot is in Mando’a?« »I might keep that one to myself.« 

With another jump she was out of her ARC, walked over to him, attaching the belt and her sabers. The ship closed and she put on the cloak. »Enjoyed the view, Mando?« she teased him with a grin. The helmet leaned sideways. »I won’t tell you that either, Arana.« The way he practically purred her name made her absolutely weak, knees feeling a little wobbly just from the soft vibrato in his voice. Considering how his voice had sounded not long ago, even more gravelly, it was a miracle that she wasn’t in a puddle right now. »Let’s go,« Din nodded towards the exit and off they went, walking through the streets and out the city. 

»How did you sleep?« Casual conversation while they walked around seemed to be their go-to at this point. »I can’t complain, I slept on quite the comfortable underground.« Arana had to stop herself before she made it awkward for the both of them, don’t mention what you felt, don’t mention what you felt she reminded herself. »Your back must hate me though, sorry about that.« »Don’t worry about that. It does hurt, but I’ll be okay when I get to move a little.« The streets were still empty, most of the people in Mos Eisley probably still asleep after the night had been going on for longer than usual. Din quieted down as soon as a stranger crossed their path, however. There was no need for her to press on more conversation, perfectly contented to walk with him in silence. 

Outside the city, after they had taken a short walk, Din halted, took a look around, and nodded approvingly. »I think we’re good here,« he announced. Taking the Darksaber from his belt, Arana took position opposite of him, a few steps away from him. She unhooked one of her sabers, deeming one enough for the time being. If Din showed improvement quickly, she could always add the second one. The lavender colored blade almost seemed white in contrast to the oceans of beige sand around them. Her blade gave off a low hum, a noise she was used to, but it sounded so different when it had nowhere to bounce off from, virtually no echo. »I need you to be open-minded, otherwise I can’t help you learning to handle a saber. It sounds weird, I know, but saber crystals have a mind of their own. Be certain of what you want to accomplish. Don’t doubt yourself. The Darksaber is old, it might be harder to handle, I don’t know.« 

Her saber raised into a blocking position, she nodded towards her partner. »Hit it.« Din activated the blade and it was obvious the weapon was heavy, even the sound was different from her sabers. While his first strike seemed easy enough, she saw him struggle with the second. No noise of strain or effort came from him yet, but his posture tensed, his biceps and shoulders flexing underneath the fabric. Din’s movements were slower, more laborious, when he struck her blade once more. On top of the visible signs he was doing something wrong, fighting the blade, it was like she could feel his doubts, the internal conflict and his frustration. It surrounded him like a cloud, a grey aura of negative thoughts. 

»You won it in combat. It’s yours,« the brunette reminded him, moving slowly to attack him but leaving enough time for him to block. To be honest, moving so slowly and pronounced was a little more exhausting. She didn’t want to hit the armor just in case the blade slipped and hurt him for real, she aimed straight for the blade and nothing else. Blocking was easier for him, not too much movement involved, but she saw how he was straining, sinking into the sand with his boots like it actually weighed more and more. What started off as a cloud around him, frustration and self doubt, had turned into a thick fog within minutes. »You’re resisting the blade.« Did it help she was telling him when it was obvious that it was all that consumed him right now? Finally, Din just sighed in defeat, deactivated and let the Darksaber fall into the sand. Arana deactivated her blade as well, giving him a confused look. Had she been too harsh with him? Had she insulted him? With the memory of their fight back on Glavis she knew she had to be a bit more tactful this time around, and not let his frustration jump over to her as well. With a sigh herself, she walked over and picked up the significantly bigger and heavier hilt, offering her blade to her partner in return. »We should maybe start a little easier. Modern technology and a little less stubborn, I would assume. No history attached to it but my short life, similarly lethal as the other one.«  

»Let’s go,« Din groaned a little, the frustration still around him in the air. Was there anything she could do to help him? He was hard to read right now and she knew his pride was easily hurt if she chose her words a little unfortunately. She activated the blade, feeling the weight instantly. Being force-sensitive however meant it wasn’t as severe for her to feel the significance of the blade. Waving the blade around a bit, she got a feel for the handling, registering Din’s frustration growing a little more. As much as she didn’t want this to happen, they had to do it this way. »In the covert, someone tried to take the blade from me. To be the rightful owner, to win it in combat. Thankfully Mandalorians seem to be useless with a lightsaber. Otherwise he would’ve decapitated me.« Din explained. Hearing that should have stunned her more than it did, the prospect of her partner being killed, but then again, Arana was removing herself emotionally from this as best as she could to be a better teacher for him. The aura of the saber was definitely stronger than her own crystals, but it felt manageable. Was it because she saw the necessity in being able to handle it? Was it because she was a Jedi? Or had Din technically surrendered the blade to her and it was now listening to a more willing master? Din tried to at least lift his spirits a little, or he was starting to feel that Arana was sensing him in the force. Could he feel her presence? »Lucky for me he wasn’t able to, unlucky for the Mandalorians as a whole because now the saber is in the hands of an apostate.« 

»Sooner or later someone will come to claim it again. All I care about is for you to be safe and not get hurt when you use it again. It’s inescapable. Also – I don’t want you to hurt me either.« The sight and smell of his burnt thigh was still so fresh in her memory and she would be grateful if it never came to another serious injury like this. The way he talked about himself explained why the blade taunted him. Din was a remarkable man but he talked himself down so much right now. Arana carefully approached him, swinging against the other blade. His armor would avoid the worst but she didn’t want to hurt him. She wanted him to get a feel for a saber. That was it. Would she mind if he lost the blade again? Not really if he managed to lose in combat and not die. Din was more important than some weapon and definitely more important than some title he didn’t seem to want, anyway. They focused on fighting, Din slowly getting a feel for the saber. Taking turns, Din took a few swings at her and in turn blocked when she swung at him. The clash of sabers picked up in frequency and they had a well-working rhythm. Arana was proud of how well Din carried himself with a completely new weapon. Most of this was due to his resilience, she was certain, but she’d like to think that her encouragement had at least a tiny bit of influence. 

After some time, the suns had passed their zenith already, they stopped and deactivated their blades, Din surrendering Arana’s blade to her, a few words of admiration on his lips. »You’re so focused while fighting. I’m far from it.« »Switching my mind off has always been a safety measure for me, it helped closing myself off from some – bad things. I don’t doubt it’s hard for you.« A heavy sigh came from underneath the helmet, his shoulders dropping. »I’m not sure if it’s worth it, or if I am. You’re making such an effort and I don’t feel deserving, not worthy. The Darksaber would be better in the hands of a Jedi master.« Arana couldn’t deny the saber felt good in her hands, but she had sabers of her own and they meant more to her. Besides, she was definitely not interested in command over the Mandalorians. Not that they would accept her anyway. »You’re too hard on yourself, cyare. Comparing yourself to someone who has been handling sabers for years. What Jedi would be interested in a saber that also grants you command over a civilization of warriors that despise them? The sword has been carried by Mandalorians for hundreds of years, it has a long history and matters to Mandos. It belongs into the hands of one.« Arana hooked the Darksaber into Din’s belt and looked into that dark visor. 

»It matters to some Mandalorians. I haven’t even heard of it when I was still on Concordia. No one ever taught us.« She gave him an apologetic smile. It was, in a way, reassuring that Din wasn’t too ardent on the title of the ruler of Mandalore either. »To some, then.« Still there was this aura of frustration surrounding him. She placed both hands on his helmet, caressing the metal as if it was his face. »Regardless of that, you might not see it because you’re frustrated, but you did so well today. Masters aren’t born, they are made.« She didn’t care much if Din didn’t want the throne. It was his choice, at the end of the day, and all she wanted was for him to be safe. Safe with her, preferably. She didn’t need to be with a king, nor did she need to live in a mansion or anything. As long as she could be with him, she would be happy. 

Let it go. That was, in a way, a mantra for a Jedi. Arana had to tell herself so often to let go, to let Din leave her behind, to overcome the death of her adoptive father, to live with not knowing who she was, where she belonged. Din had to let go of all the doubt to be able to master the Darksaber. And she had to let go of the fear of losing him. Whether it would be in combat or of old age, Din would leave her one day, or she would leave him. And, more importantly, she had to let go of her own feelings when Din was frustrated just as he was right now. She didn’t want to repeat their falling out on Glavis. »I think we trained enough for today, what do you think?« The brunette’s head tilted to the side, her hands still on the helmet. »I don’t know. Sorry. I wish it was easier for me, because right now it frustrates me too much. I know learning a skill takes time, I just–« he sighed, letting the helmet fall a bit forward, not making it far because her hands held his head in place. »Di’kut. That’s what you can call me when I’m being an idiot again.« Arana rotated the helmet, assuming he would look at her if she did. A warm smile on her lips, she repeated what he had just told her. »Di’kut. Maybe I won’t have to use it too often. I know this must be a lot for you. Maybe even too much to handle at once. I don’t know how to help you through this, I want to, though. You’ll have to tell me, because I don’t want to look into that pretty head of yours to find answers.« 

»I had to learn quickly when I was a child and I just force myself too much, I can’t learn that fast any more. I’ll work on my attitude, I don’t want to drive you away. And please don’t look around in there, it’s not pretty.« »I don’t like my own mind at times. But don’t worry, it’s hard to drive me away.« She took a step forward and leaned her forehead against the helmet. Din couldn’t help himself and wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her in a hug. »I didn’t think I could ever be so emotional. I used to just turn around and keep going without looking back.« Arana took the opportunity and snuggled against his armor, her arms wrapping around his neck. »Having emotions hurts at times, I know. But both Grogu and I owe our lives to your feelings. You might not have saved me out of love, but there was something that inclined you to do it regardless. And I know you suffer because Grogu isn’t here. He is your first foundling, isn’t he?«

She was not saying ‘was’ to not make it even worse for him. »I never said having emotions is bad. Just that I’ve been closed off for such a long time. And then Grogu came along and turned my whole life upside down. And he is – was –  I saw myself in him. A child that needed to be protected. He is my family just as you are and it feels wrong to give him away,« Din explained. Slowly she let go of him, Din also letting go of her body. Her hand reached for her neck, feeling for the pendant underneath the black fabric. Being considered someone’s family felt odd. She had lost every family she had. Her biological parents, Raymond – who she had considered a father figure for years – how could she doom Din to the same fate by calling him family? She had to say something, and if she couldn’t reciprocate his feelings in that way, she had to acknowledge that at least, someone saw Din as family already. »He considers you his father… Or a father figure.« Just like she had chosen Raymond back when she was in the facility, Grogu saw a protector and role model. »Luke might not let you see him, as the emotional distance is crucial for his training. While I don’t regret leaving him, I was at a completely different stage of maturity and in my training.« 

Din tensed and she felt a little sting in her heart. She hurt him, she knew it. Resorting to honesty was her way of preparing him, so he wouldn’t be too disappointed if they made it all the way there to not see the little one. A necessary evil, so to say. Would Din know she was doing this out of love and not malice? »I know you want to see him and we can still fly there. Your expectation shouldn’t be that he sees you and chooses to come back with us, that is all I want to say. My words hurt, don’t think I do this because I want to hurt you. I just don’t know how to be more tactful about it.« »I just want him to have the gift. That is all.« That statement came so bluntly and Arana definitely had proof that she had hurt him, Din resorting to being short with her. »Will you be okay if he rejects it?« »I won’t force him. If that’s his choice I will respect it.«

Arana took a deep breath, grounding herself as to not make the frustration take hold of her. This was her fault for being honest and he had every right to be hurt by it. There was no need and no reason to snap at him, he wasn’t snappy with her, either. »There’s still a lot of time left until tomorrow, we should find something to do. Unless you want to leave right away, but we might need a longer break in between. I don’t think I need another evening at the festival.« Seemingly feeling her guilt, Din gently touched her arm, searching for physical contact to signal he was okay. He shook the helmet gently to convey a no. »We’re flying tomorrow. We can ask Peli if she needs help in the workshop. Or we sit down in her apartment and I teach you more Mando’a.« Looking down her arm, she found him caressing over her sleeve with his thumb. The bounty hunter had changed so much in the little time they had spent together, so affectionate even when they were out in the open. »Oh Peli for sure has something for us to do. In the best case we take all of the scrap that lies around and organize it into two piles. Actual trash and useful trash… or we suffer through more questions about our relationship.« »After what you made her believe, no wonder.« Oh yeah, she had kind of insinuated that she and Mando had been intimate… 

»Let’s go back and I teach you some more Mando’a on the way,« he distracted her from her memories of that one dream she had and also the sensation of his hard-on snuggled against her. Otherwise she would have gotten a little light-headed. »Let’s see how much I remember when I hear it. ‘Cyare’ just came to me when you called me cyar’ika.« They started walking back towards the city. 

»You know what it means, then?« Not quite, but she knew it was something to call a partner or a family member. She had heard her mother say it to her father in that memory of hers. Was it maybe the male version of cyar’ika? »It’s some word for loved one? Like… my beloved? But I don’t really understand the ‘ika.’« Arana felt inclined to grab hold of his hand, but then again, back in the city there were people and she knew how Din was when they were being watched. »It’s a suffix… to make the word smaller. Or used as further endearment. In Basic there’s no real way to imitate it. ‘Cyare’ is beloved or love, but ‘cyar’ika’ is closer to darling or favorite.« Din hummed a little, trying to find a better way to explain it. »‘Ika’ is when you would call a kitten a kitty to make it sound smaller.« She nodded, that was a good way to demonstrate it. »And what’s mesh’la? I assume it’s something nice because you wouldn’t insult me.« »I would never insult you. It means beautiful. ’La’ indicates an adjective.« It warmed her heart to finally know what he had said to her so often. Din had called her mesh’la so early in their relationship, before it even was one, before they had made it official. »Your name comes from ‘aran’, I assume. It means guard… or guardian. Similar to Basic most words are neutral in Mando’a. ‘Buir’ would be a parent, either mother or father.« That made more sense. Back when they visited Gor Koresh, Din had explained that women were equal to a man in Mandalorian culture. Made sense why there was no distinction in their language between male and female. »So buir’ika would be ‘daddy’?« He chuckled a little. »Yes, or mommy,« he concluded. 

She smiled at him, pondering whether to make a joke or not. But then again, she didn’t know if the connotations were the same in Mando’a as they were in Basic, despite the soft laughter he had just expelled. Just like she wondered if she could ironically call him di’kut. »So, if I wanted to make your name cuter, would I say Din’ika? Di’ka?« Din’s chuckle returned, only to become a little louder this time around. The blush forming on her cheeks was inevitable, fearing the worst. »What did I say?« It took a moment for Din to regain his composure. »Dinii means lunatic.« »Oh, damn, sorry about that. I’ll stick to di’kut then. It’s not insulting to call you that, right?« Awkward.  

»It’s not, don’t worry. ‘I’ll hold you in my heart forever.’ That’s what I told you yesterday. It’s our way to say ‘I love you’.« Arana stumbled over her own feet, startled by the sudden confession. Din jerked her way to catch her, but she managed to regain her balance on her own. »Stars, you can’t just drop that so nonchalantly. You sure have your hearts on your tongues for a bunch of warriors.« She took a deep breath and tried to calm her pulse that had just picked up. Was he aware what he was doing to her? »At least that explains why you say certain things in Mando’a rather than telling me in Basic. I won’t stumble and make an idiot of myself if I don’t know what you’re telling me.« 

»It just felt right in that moment. I wanted you to know what I said, because the Basic translation doesn’t convey the same sentiment.« 

»It’s alright. It’s just – an intensity I wouldn’t expect from a stone cold bounty hunter, you know?«

»I’m a human underneath the armor too.« She bit her lip, grinning a little when she saw the helmet turn towards her in her peripheral. »I know you are. Forever sounds like a long time.« A long time to love someone and also a long time to miss someone. »Do you believe in some kind of afterlife?« There was a clear shake of the helmet. »You’ll be in my heart till it stops. If anything comes afterwards, I wouldn’t know.«  

Unwillingly her thoughts took a darker turn, suddenly remembering the nightmares that had plagued her just recently. Seeing him die, again, and her heart ached for the inevitable, the moment it would become reality. »No one’s heart is stopping. Forget it.« She felt her throat tighten, pure stubbornness taking over for a moment. The discussion about the afterlife reminded her of something she and Luke had talked about. »I’ve been told that some Jedi stay in this life even after their death, for a while at least. Something about a noble death or inner peace when it happens that grants them to stay a little while, conscious and somewhat materialized.« The sigh she let out almost made a sob escape. »I can’t imagine how it would feel to miss you for eternity.« His helmet faced her and he took hold of her hand, stopping and making her halt as well. She felt her eyes water when she looked at him. No way she would accept him passing on anytime soon. 

»Let’s focus on now, when we’re together, cyar’ika.« He gently squeezed her hand, which she reciprocated with a sigh. »I’m sorry, you’re right.« Especially with the prospect of maybe having the apartment to themselves for a while later, Arana was fine to ditch the festival today. Her mind was occupied with memories of how Din had kissed her yesterday and she wanted to repeat it. Maybe take things further? The thought had manifested when she had felt how his body reacted to being close to her. As scary as the experience might be at first, she wanted to know how it would feel to be entangled with him, as close as can be. When she could hear every little noise he makes and feel every twitch of his muscles. Dank farrik.   

It was early afternoon when they arrived back at the hangar, which was still occupied – to no one’s surprise. »Oh, you’re back so early?« Peli commented their return. How long had they been gone? To Arana it had felt like hours, but then again, she didn’t have any means to tell the time apart from the position of the suns. »Sand’s a little scratchy, huh?« the mechanic added, arms crossed in front of her chest, grinning like she had triumphed. Did she honestly think they would go outside the city to fool around in the sand? Instead of entertaining the thought, Din distracted the woman with a question she had definitely not anticipated. 

»Do you have some work for us?« That did the trick, the mechanic loosened her posture and gave Din a blank stare, blinking twice before she found the words to reply. »Usually I’m the one doing the work, I’m the service provider over here.« While she was right, the two wanted to kill some time, besides »you’re letting us sleep in your home. Is there anything we can do for you in return?« Arana clarified. The brunette motioned to the ominous tarp that covered some form of machinery, perhaps the chassis of a pod-racer. »What about this?«  

Peli pulled the tarp from the skeleton of a Naboo N-1 starfighter that looked in a generally rough shape. Peli was pragmatic, and far from stupid. »If you just want to waste time until I leave for the festival you can tell me. However, I could use a few more hands on this. Looked for an alternative for the Crest after Mando contacted me.« Din was ever-observant and pointed towards the star-fighter. »That’s not a Crest.« »Damn right, because it’s better. Leaves that ARC-170 in the dust too, no offense. Faster, more agile and a lot prettier with a new paint job. Also… she’s pre-Imperial.«

Arana scanned over the dirty, partially flaked off yellow paint, letting her hand glide over the rough surface. Speaking of her star fighter, the mechanic had a question burning on the tip of her tongue. »Where have you even gotten that from? Last time we met you didn’t even have properly fitting clothes. And now you have a new haircut, a different name and a damn ship from the Galactic Republic, not to mention in quite good condition.« Well, how would Arana explain it? ‘I am force-sensitive and I can steal virtually anything my heart desires if it weren’t for my morals’? »Would you believe me that I just took it? I can be quite convincing if I want to.« The woman gave her a once-over and raised her lack of eyebrows. »I don’t doubt that after yesterday. But for a ship? And that’s fine for him?« Peli looked over to Din, a little shocked. »Were you present?!« Before the brunette was able to explain what she actually meant, which was far from the mechanic’s interpretation, Din, oblivious to everything, replied »I wasn’t, but I know she is very convincing when she wants to be.« Arana facepalmed. That was his revenge for what she had done to him at breakfast. Now the mechanic would forever think she had exchanged her body for a ship. Fantastic. To avoid the awkward silence making it even more embarrassing for his poor partner, Din interrupted. »You had promised a substitute.« Peli nodded violently. »I never said it was a Crest and believe me. She needs polishing but you will fall in love with her just like you did with your sweetheart. Give her a chance.« Sometimes the tin can was a little hard to convince, but then again, when had Peli ever failed him? »Fine,« he grumbled. 

Arana wondered what she could even help with, given she had no training in fixing anything. She was glad if her ship could be fixed with unplugging and replugging cables because that was about the extent of her technical understanding of anything. Din still wasn’t all-too convinced that he would like the N-1, but the mechanic tried her hardest to sell the ship to the Mandalorian. »Do you even know how hard it is to come by pre-imperial parts? Everything was handmade. They’re incredibly rare and expensive. And because I like you, I can add some modifications to make her even better.« Peli was a saleswoman through and through, and for some reason she referred to the ship as a she. Was that a tactic? »And because she’s so old, she is not registered anywhere, just like Maia’s… Ah, kriff, Arana’s ARC.« Mando huffed. »Fine, let’s see if it even starts.« Peli was delighted, either sensing a sale in the future or she was genuinely just happy that Din was giving her a chance. »Perfect. Then let’s start, because I want to go to the festival later. We won’t finish today anyway, she’s missing parts I don’t have nor can I get them this short notice.« Peli clapped, making a mental plan of what they could fix with little equipment and without the missing parts. »Mando, you and BD climb under the ship, you’ll handle the big parts. Arana, you can help me.« 

Surprisingly she found something to do fairly quickly. Being relatively slender compared to Din but still a lot taller than Peli came to her advantage, she could reach further into the hull than the mechanic could. Connecting cables or pulling them through the ship… or pull a skeleton out of the chassis. The brunette had to comment on that. »Looks like this hasn’t seen a mechanic in forever. Where have you even found all of the parts if they’re so hard to get by?« She didn’t have to be able to predict the future to know what Peli would reply and she wondered why she had even asked in the first place. »Jawas.« Of course it was the Jawas. With a shake of her head, Arana let out a defeated sigh. »I’m starting to think that they are the universal solution for any kind of inquiry on this planet.« »That sums it up. Tatooine is full of treasure and the Jawas make the best of it. I gave them a list, they bring the parts, I don’t ask where they got them from and pay them.«  

Meanwhile Din was struggling with the small droid which was supposed to light his area of work, but the little guy was just too excited and would move around the light with every noise the women made up there. 

Who knows if the Jawas scavenged from the ships that were in the hangars or the ports close by. Arana didn’t ask, of course, because why would she if the mechanic had no interest in knowing? Speaking of ‘things no one wanted to know’, the woman had another sprinkle of information to absolutely scar the brunette. »Had a fling with a Jawa once, very hairy and pure trouble,« Peli suddenly told her, making the brunette almost hurt herself when Din bumped his helmet into the ship from below, seemingly as startled by the confession as she was. Of course, the other woman also noticed and called out »Mando, you good down there?« »I’m fine… my tool slipped.« Perhaps Peli would buy that, but Arana definitely heard how shaky his voice was. If he was blushing underneath the helmet right now? »I wish you wouldn’t have told us that…« she scratched the back of her head, looking at Peli with a hint of confusion. Could Din please punch her in the face hard enough to make her forget? She laid down in the sand by the ship and rolled underneath it, landing somewhere next to Din, her feet pointing to the opposite end of the ship from his. They were head to head and she could grin at him for a short moment. After she had attached a cable to a plug underneath the hull down here, she gave the helmet a soft kiss. »Thank you for not being a Jawa,« she whispered. »You’re welcome, cyar’ika,« and once again – Din purred at her. After biting her lip she rolled back away from him.

Peli had the next task already prepped, handing over a hand full of small parts. »Here’s a few lights and button caps. Sit down in the cockpit, don’t worry, you can’t break through and if you do, you’ll just sit comfortably on Man–« She didn’t need to hear that sentence end. Arana grabbed the parts and relatively loudly replied to interrupt Peli »oookay, Cockpit, lamps, buttons, got it. No insinuations of me on his lap, please.« Oh shit. She sat in the cockpit and busied herself with delicately placing small lights into the sockets and clicking the transparent caps over top. Light, click, cap, click, done. She wasn’t sure she was outwardly blushing but her whole body felt hot despite being in the shade. While she was busy calming her mind, thoughtlessly adding lamps and caps to the numerous buttons in the cockpit, the other two talked about the upgrades. Din and Peli threw around technical terms of ship parts. Arana had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, and every time she heard Din’s voice, it was like she got goosebumps. Why could she suddenly not stop thinking about sitting in Din’s lap? How had Peli managed to say something that completely influenced her thoughts? Her mind wandered on and went to what she had felt in the morning, pressing into her abdomen while she laid on Din, practically naked besides their underwear. Stars, it was insane how much she wanted to feel more of him, but she couldn't right now; she wasn’t sure she could ever. So deep on thought, she hadn’t realized that Din had positioned himself next to her and she jumped when his voice pulled her back into reality. »You okay in here?«

Arana dropped some of the caps in response and cursed under her breath, picking the components off of the floor in the cockpit. »Yeah, I’m fine. Go and fix your turbo-venti-something. I’m doing what I’m capable of.« She waved him away in hopes he didn’t think she suddenly hated him. It wasn’t about him, more that she was simply a little uncomfortable with her own thoughts that were racing around one thing and one thing only. »Okay,« he mumbled and walked away, causing her to sigh. Her task was completed soon thereafter and Arana stayed for a while longer, sat on a toolbox to try to understand what they were talking about. Ever so often she would see the helmet look her way and every time it was like her blood ran cold. Could Din hear her thoughts? Stars, she hoped he didn’t. One thing was certain, she wouldn’t be able to quiet her mind when he was around. »I’ll go for a walk,« she announced while jumping off the toolbox, not even waiting for a reply from either. She left the hangar behind, wondering where to go. 

Well aware that Din would be concerned if she wandered off too far, so she hopped up to a nearby roof and sat down on the warm sandstone. With all of the decorations in the city and the already crowded streets, she was nicely hidden from all of the guests that ran around the bazaar already and also from the ones that would go to the festival later. Her sudden sensitivity to the topic was still a concern, in a way. »Okay, relax,« she told herself, crossing her legs, taking deep, steady breaths to stabilize herself. »You sat on his lap for a few seconds to fix his helmet. Nothing more.« She wrapped her cloak around her to shield herself from most of the sunlight. Returning sunburnt was the last thing she needed right now. A few breaths later, she groaned in frustration. »But why can’t I stop thinking about it?« You know why. You felt him. 

Her eyes shot open and she rolled them subsequently, letting out a frustrated sigh and falling backwards onto her back. Flinging her body with a bit too much gusto, hitting the back of her head on the sandstone underneath her. »Ow! Fark.« The fingers that touched her scalp to check for an injury were free of blood, thank the Force. Hurting herself the minute she was unattended would've been so typical for her. Just like it had happened on Nevarro. 

Unsure of what else she could do, Arana just laid there, covered by her cloak and hood, listening to the distant sounds of civilization to somehow free her mind, to detach from the topic all together. Din was probably similarly awkward about this, his body had betrayed him in a way. Still, the lap thing would plague her mind if she didn’t talk to him about it. She did feel bad, guilty even. They had somewhat talked about it already, but because of his hostility back then, she didn’t mention the extent of their contact. The longer it took to confess, the worse it got. To be completely honest, she had repressed it for a while. 

For a while she just laid there, basking in the sun like a lizard, before she made it back to the hangar. In fact, the distant sound of music had been her sign to leave. How long it had been since she left? She wasn't sure. Arana entered the hangar to find it empty. Neither did she hear Peli nor did she see Din. Even up in the apartment, it was awfully silent. »Cyare?« she called up there. No response. Taking the opportunity, she took a quick shower after she had been in the sun practically all day, her clothes also getting the quickest wash. Afterwards she sat down by the table in the kitchen, waiting for someone to come. Din would realize she would come back here, right? The suns were slowly descending and with the relatively small windows up in here, she had to have the light switched on, waiting for some sign of her partner returning. 

The door downstairs swished when it opened and a familiar voice called up the stairs. »Arana? Are you up there?« »I’m here,« she replied and got up from the table to come his way. Unbeknownst to her, Din practically ran up the stairs when he heard her voice, almost crashing into her when she stood right behind the landing of said staircase. »How long have you been looking for me?« Why did she ask? His behavior was a little erratic. And was that an alcohol bottle on his arm? »A while,« he replied and suddenly she felt a little more guilty for leaving, the exasperation very audible in his voice. »I was worried because you left so suddenly. I wasn’t sure if you had left the city. The desert is dangerous, even if I know you can defend yourself.« Guilt filled her face and Arana’s voice was quiet when she explained herself. »I wasn’t far from the hangar. I just needed a moment to myself.«

The alcohol bottle garnered her attention shortly and Din followed her gaze. Without having to ask, he explained »Peli gave it to me when I ran into her on the way back. Let me take the helmet off.« He hastily put the bottle on the table with a relatively loud thud, his helmet following directly after. He ran a hand through his hair and it was easy to see he had been a little sweaty underneath the helmet. »Hey, what’s wrong?«

With careful steps Arana approached him, extending one hand to cup his cheek. »I’ve never seen you so nervous.« Was it because of her? What had he thought about? That she had left and gotten killed? »I’m sorry, I was a little scared something had happened,« he mumbled, leaning into her hand ever so softly when she started caressing his skin with her thumb. His forehead wrinkled and suddenly she had the feeling she was looking into the eyes of a puppy. In a way it felt new that someone was so worried about her. It hat been so long since she had mattered to someone. 

There was a faint smile on her lips, looking into the dark brown eyes that begged for her attention. »You’re so cute when you’re worried, cyare.« One of his hands also cupped her face now. Unsure when he had taken the glove off, but she felt his warm fingers on her skin. »Have you had enough time on your own? Are you okay now?« Din hesitantly asked, »I was scared I did something to scare you off.« A soft nod came from her, not daring to move too much to not detach from his hand. »I’m fine, I promise, you didn’t do anything. I was just a little overwhelmed by Peli’s antics today.« 

Despite her intense meditation and a shower to gound herself, the brunette felt her heart rate quicken. 

Perhaps she should just explain herself rather than leaving him hanging. There was nothing to be ashamed of with him. »I sometimes feel when you look at me underneath the helmet and it was just unfortunate that Peli made me think of something that is kind of an uncomfortable topic for me.« She tried to explain, but how would she? Din’s brows furrowed. »You can tell me next time then I will give you your space.« »I will.« Din was about to lean in, probably for a kiss, when she interrupted him »Can we talk about something? It’s … I don’t know, it’s a little awkward. Or do we want to get drunk first?« There was a little regret that she had interrupted him from stealing a kiss. »We can. Your choice if you want to drink first.« And despite the seemingly certain reply, it seemed like he was blushing a little? What was he thinking about? Oh no. »She reminded me of something when she mentioned your lap. Back on Nevarro, when you fell unconscious and I had to save your helmet from falling. I had to sit on your lap for a moment and I feel bad about it.« »Why? Doesn’t sound like you were doing anything bad. It was necessary.« Well she for sure wouldn’t have done anything to him. Not that she could have. »I was so scared you would wake up right in that moment and … you were unconscious, it doesn’t feel right to come this close to someone when they’re not there, you know?«

»And that’s what made you so uncomfortable? I can’t say how I would have reacted back then, but now it’s not a big deal for me. You don’t have to feel guilty.« Din took it better than she had anticipated, maybe this was because he was big and generally less in danger when unconscious. Also, Arana plagued more than one thought about this. »I feel guilty because I kind of enjoyed it… not that you were unconscious, but the sensation…« she mumbled and tried to somewhat hide in his hand. »Just like I enjoyed what happened in the morning today.« She saw his expression derail for a split second and his skin turned pink just as hers probably was. »Uh… if I have to be honest that was kind of embarrassing. I can’t control it.« »I was only embarrassed because Peli was so close… okay no… that might be a lie, I was awkward about it too. It is kind of a compliment, I guess.« She looked at him, caressed his cheek, and so did he. Finally she leaned in more, gave one of his overheated cheeks a kiss and leaned her similarly warm face against his. »Can we get drunk now?«

Din sighed in relief, wrapping one arm around her to give her a halfway hug. Naturally, Arana leaned in a little. That wasn’t too bad. Was their communication improving? »Do you want to?« She nodded and nozzled her face more into him. It would calm her nerves a little. To be fair, having talked about it had already helped tremendously. Still, Din had something to add. »I don’t know what Peli gave me, to be honest, so I don’t know what will happen if we drink. I doubt it’s anything dangerous, though.« Alcohol was dangerous enough, Arana thought. »If it’s the same stuff as yesterday, you’ll have to live with me being a little touchy,« she whispered and placed a few kisses along his jaw, causing Din to close his eyes for a moment. She gave him a final kiss where his jaw went into his neck, whispering »And I doubt you’d have a problem with that.« She pulled back and walked over to the cabinets, hoping to find glasses or cups to drink from. To make it a little more interesting, she had something in mind. »Maybe you can tell me something about you. Doesn’t have to be your deepest secrets. Just something you assume might be interesting to me, to get to know you a little better. Or you tell me what you worked on at the N-1, but that conversation will be awfully one-sided while I empty the bottle by myself.« 

»There’s not much to tell you about me,« Din mused and opened the bottle. They sat down on opposite sides of the table, Arana placing two cups by the bottle so Din could fill them with the amber liquid. He gave her a warm smile and nodded her way when he raised the cup, Arana mimicking the gesture. It wasn't her first alcohol, even yesterday hadn't been. Probably the nicest tasting one, though. This one wasn’t shared between fugitives in a dark cargo container. They both took a sip, the alcohol numbing her tongue instantly. Instead of the slightly acidic note she had tasted yesterday, a flowery sweetness came through. Probably as strong as the one last night, which meant she would for sure turn cuddly by the end of this. 

»I’ve told you about being a foundling myself. I come from a small planet called Aq Vetina. We were attacked by droids and my parents hid me in a basement. I heard them die. The Death Watch arrived shortly after and they took me to Concordia to become one of them.« »Do you remember your parents? And how your life used to be before the attack?«

Arana had guessed Din was traumatized from that. She had seen the droid and heard the blaster fire when they had somehow connected while healing on Nevarro. »In fractions. Probably repressed a lot. We were simple people, farmers. I ended up getting the Mandalorian training and when I was old enough, I looked for work.« She was a little jealous. but then again, she probably repressed most of the memories of her family, they weren’t forgotten, right? Besides, she had been significantly younger when she had been taken. »At least you remember something. Apart from the memory that came to me on Glavis, I don’t remember my family. I do remember when I first set foot into the facility, though.« She took a sip and sighed. She didn't want to make this about her straight away, but Din encouraged her to keep going. »Your turn, mesh’la.« 

Why not tell him about her first day? 

»Raymond took my hand and walked me through endless hallways. I was four – I think. He promised they were looking for my parents and that they’d reunite us soon enough. When I was put into the small room and Raymond had to leave, I think it settled in that I was doomed. If we can believe what Gideon said, they had killed my father at this point.« Another father dead. Not sure Arana even remembered much of her father. »It’s what the file said. I read it when I had the time,« Din nodded. It felt a little intrusive, there might have been a lot of unpleasant things on her file. »What else did you read?« Obviously not enough to scare him off. »It was just your basic info. Status and where they had found you. I didn’t feel it would be fair to snoop around. After you had left on Tatooine, I was concerned they had caught you.« She filled another round in. »I’d rather be dead than a captive. I don’t want to imagine what they would do to me now that I’m older and stronger.«  A heavy sigh came from her, lifting her cup once more. It wasn’t good to drink and remind herself of what could have been. She was free, and she was with Din. »One good thing the facility granted was the silence. My room was like an isolation chamber in a way and it helped me meditate in absolute quiet, that’s also why I prefer to be on my own at times. One day in my teens something clicked and suddenly there was someone I could see. Witness his life through my eyes in a way. Raymond was so fascinated with what I could do, because I was the only one who could do something like that.« She took another sip.

»15 years ago I spent an entire week in meditation, finding out what we could about this stranger. I’m not sure if the other scientists ever heard of it – if Raymond talked to them about it or kept it to himself. My ability was peculiar, because there was only one person I could connect to. One man in the whole galaxy whose presence I could find anywhere.« A traitorous grin crept up to her lips when she saw that Din picked up on what she was hinting at already. »And you can imagine, he was not amused to feel invisible eyes watching him all the time. Especially when he was supposed to keep his helmet on unless he was alone.« Now Din for sure knew she was talking about him. »You could see me?« She motioned into the air around him. »Not as clearly as I can right now, of course. You were surrounded by your emotions like a fog most times. Hostility, but I understand why.« There was a nod from him, albeit subtle. »I remember I used to feel watched for a while when I was younger. It was driving me insane.« »Sorry.« They both chuckled. Din looked into his cup, taking a deeper breath. »So you talked with Raymond about me?« Arana nodded. »He was a scientist, of course we talked about you. Besides, I considered him my father, in a way, he was the only one I trusted enough. I could practically read your mind despite being parsecs away. Mostly we wanted to find out what it meant. About you as a person we didn’t because I never really dug that deep, it had always been more of a ‘why’ and not a ‘with whom’.«

»So you don’t know why it’s me?« She shook her head and another grin came up to her lips. It wasn’t that easy, at least not before she had met her master. »I only ever found out after I had run into you. Luke has so much knowledge about the Force.« Din took a bigger sip with the mention of Skywalker. Arana wasn’t sure what it was about him that made Din dislike him, although she had a suspicion. »The Force surrounds us all, you and me, this planet, the whole galaxy. It’s here, it connects everything. In a way it is cosmic energy, but not quite. And while most of us are affected by it in a way, some can feel it, and even fewer can use it. Like I can. You’ve probably heard that there is a light and a dark side.« Arana took a sip and hummed, unsure how to continue, or more specifically, how she could get to the point she wanted to make. »Maybe a different comparison works better, sorry. Think of the force as a magnet. Magnets always have two poles. They don’t exist with just one. And similar to a magnet, people can be opposite poles in the Force. It’s called a dyad, a really strong connection between two individuals. Luke is convinced that you’re my opposite pole and I agree. I’ve never felt such a strong connection with anyone and it would explain why I can do what I did back then.«

Din leaned back in his seat, contemplating his reply, perhaps. Arana helped herself to the third cup of alcohol, raising it to her lips and taking a sip, before a sly grin appeared on his lips. »I love being connected to you, cyar’ika.«  He took a slow, calculated sip. Of course she picked up on the flirty undertone and thanks to the alcohol, she would reciprocate. The brunette cocked an eyebrow and asked »really?« If Peli would’ve been here, the mechanic would have probably had a heart attack just now, or would’ve excused herself because she knew what was about to happen to the two lovebirds that were now notably tipsy. Arana put her cup down and sat down on the table, turning on her butt to sit right in front of Din, one of her boots rested on his chair, the other dangling off the table. Din eyed her head to toe before he replied »really.« His eyes moved slowly, as if he was undressing her with just his gaze. »Did you say that on purpose or was that an accident?« Her head tilted sideways. Part of her thought it might have slipped, but then again – he had thought too long for it to be accidental. »I mean it. Is it kind of hot in here?« It was getting a little warm, she had to admit. »I love it too, handsome.« Her hands wandered upwards towards her neck. She opened her cloak, the heavy fabric falling onto the table. »We’re on Tatooine, of course it’s warm here.« Her hands sank back down, one stabilizing her on the table, the other reaching behind her, pulling her cup towards her with the Force. »You could take some clothes off, mesh’la,« she purred with a wink. If he was in a flirty mood she would join. After all – why not? She was feeling a little more courageous right now, thanks to the alcohol she had in her hand. »Do you need help?« she asked and took yet another sip.

Din leaned forward to place his cup on the table, green eyes watching his every move while he did. »You want me to undress?« he clarified. In response she nodded, put away her cup, pulling him in closer by the belt until he stood in between her legs. Her fingers snuck underneath the chest armor to detach the cape which subsequently fell to the floor. His belt was next, which she removed a little more carefully, placing it on the table beside her. While theres wasn’t much to feel yet, his body heat was very obvious, even through the heavy fabric. While she was busy helping him, Din was fumbling with his bracers. The mechanism to close these was a little too complex for her to open, she guessed, and it would go a lot quicker if they worked on what they could simultaneously. There was a grin on her lips when she turned her head to look up to him. »I think we can agree that the alcohol was a brilliant idea.« 

Deep down Arana hoped they would be undisturbed for the night. If Peli had given the bottle to Din, maybe she knew to stay away? She had assumed they had done it last night as well, so she might grant them another night of privacy. Din chuckled. »You mean because it made me take my clothes off? Maybe I would’ve done it regardless, had you asked.« He watched her take the chest plate off, taking a deep breath when it was on the table. »So much better.« He rested one hand on her shoulder, letting it wander over to her neck before he leaned in to finally give her a kiss. »I’ve been wanting to do that all day,« he mused. Upon his retreat, she protested. He drove her insane. Her pulse picked up as soon as she had felt his lips on hers. With a little more force than she had wanted to, she pulled him back into the kiss and he wrapped both arms around her waist. Letting the instinct take over, Arana bit his lip again, softly. With a little groan, Din parted his lips and they kissed more passionately than they had done before. It felt incredible, Aranas heart jumping in her chest, especially after she had heard the sweet noise coming from him. He tasted like the alcohol and it was addicting, intoxicating to kiss him like this. Seemingly into it himself Din leaned in further and practically pushed her further back, molding to his body with both of her legs wrapped around his hips. One of his hands rested on the table, the other at her waist while her hand that wasn’t holding her upright held his head in place. If they had considered it hot before, now it was practically scorching in Peli’s kitchen. Reluctantly Din stopped the kissing to whisper ‘cyar’ika’ out of breath. 

As if keeping her composure hadn’t been hard enough, Arana felt that damn tension in her body again, pulling on her legs to pull him in closer. The desperate yearning was turning into a tightness in her core. His eyes were so dark and he was visibly out of breath, her body pressed against his. »Hey,« she replied with a smile. Despite wanting to continue making out, her partner was a little concerned for her. »I don’t know where this will lead to. You make me feel things I’ve not felt in a long time and I don’t want to overwhelm you.« She looked down to her legs that had his hips in a tight grip. »I have a suspicion where this will lead,« she said, hoping to sound nonchalant about it, however failing, sounding insecure it its place. Of course he picked up on it. »If I’m being too much, please tell me.« It sobered her up a little, the realization that Din was so much into this that he wanted to take things further, just like she had fantasized about. Suddenly it felt so intimidating. »I don’t have any experience with… this. And to be completely honest I’m a little scared.« Scared about so many things. »We don’t have to continue if you’re scared.« He leaned back just a little, giving her more space. He let her choose, but why was it so hard? »I don’t want to stop. I don’t want you to stop because it feels so good. I know you would never hurt me but I fear that things would be different between us afterwards.«

»Why do you think anything would change?« »What if one of us doesn’t like it?« She assumed Din had had sex before and she was the one who would mess up. »We have two options: We never do it again or we try until we both enjoy it.« That must’ve blown a fuse in her brain. Her body tensed once more and she was pretty sure she involuntarily pulled his hips in further. He tried his best to make her feel comfortable with the situation and she was endlessly grateful for it. »The first time is rarely perfect. I’m leaving it up to you, we can go to bed and just cuddle, that’s fine for me. Neither outcome will change any of my feelings for you, I promise,« he reassured her.   

What do you have to lose, besides a stupid title that doesn’t have any meaning? Seriously, look at him. You love Din. You see how gentle he is with you. Would it be so bad to just find out what it feels like? He’s into you, you felt it. Once you leave this planet, you don’t know when you’ll have the next opportunity for it.

After her internal pep talk, Arana softly shook her head. »No, I want this… please.« Similarly softly as her headshake, Din nodded and leaned his forehead against hers. »There’s nothing that could ever change how much I love you.« How could she be scared if that’s how he handled the situation? Unsure what to say, Arana whispered »okay.« He gave her a softer kiss, squeezing her waist with his hand gently. There was just one issue. »The mattress might be a little small for us, though.« Arana looked behind her body. In theory, they could do it on the table. It wasn’t like her body wasn’t already in the position for it, so was his, besides the fact they were still dressed. »That depends who is on top, I guess. Also –« She grinned, a devious plan forming in her mind. »There is an unoccupied bed a few meters behind you.« Yes, she was talking about Peli’s bed. Din followed her gaze towards the little curtain that led to the mechanic’s bedroom. »Are you sure about that?« he faced her, looking back and then back into her eyes. »Realistically it’s the best spot to lose your –« She placed her hand on his mouth to shut him up. Thankfully, he didn’t talk further, likely a little confused by the gesture. »Please, don’t make this a bigger thing than it is.« 

Arana took her hand back, hoping he understood what she meant. Din seemingly accepted her plea and refocused his attention. »Alright. Do you need help taking your clothes off?« Playfully offended, she replied »I’m not that drunk, but you can undress me if you want to. Is it okay if I continue with your clothes?« Din chuckled and gave her kiss, leaning into her once more before he had to retreat so they could undress. »Of course, mesh’la.« He opened her belt, placing it beside his while she opened his flak vest. 

After some time that consisted of various clothes and boots falling to the floor, kisses and the occasional sigh of enjoyment, both were bare-chested and enveloped in another kiss, Din leaned over her again, hot skin against hot skin. His hand was practically buried into her hip, holding on for dear life. 

Once more she felt the hardness pressed into her. Din was grinding into her, voluntarily or not, her hand wandering between their bodies to open his pants and feel him up. Her partner suddenly made a noise that startled her and she pulled back. »Sorry, was that too much?« She looked at him with furrowed brows, but he shook his head. His pupils were dilated like he was on something, making Arana wonder if she herself looked so hungry. »No, it’s okay,« he reassured her. »Wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.« To further make it clear that Arana didn’t do anything wrong, he lifted his hand to her face and caressed her cheek with his thumb. »We should change location, cyar’ika.« His voice was so deep and gravelly, sending shivers through her body. Another kiss landed on her cheek. »Alright.« She took the hand he offered and they walked over to the bedroom, switching the light off in the kitchen. They would take care of the chaos later. 

They entered Peli’s bedroom and to Arana’s surprise, there was a larger window that allowed moonlight to enter the room. Din’s pants were practically falling off of him while walking. She sat down on the bed and looked at him against the moonlight. »You’re beautiful,« she mumbled, seeing how the soft light accentuated his muscles. He pulled his pants down, wasting no time to kneel beside her and letting his hand explore her body again. She almost anticipated him touching her chest, but his fingers avoided her breasts. »You think so?« he purred, his hand traveled downwards while he buried his face in the crook of her neck again. Her skin was still sore from yesterday. »That was a loud thought but yes… you’re very mesh’la.« After he had stopped his attack on her neck, he smiled at her, her hand cupping his cheek. »You look good in the moon light.« »If it means you’ll speak Mando’a you can say anything you want.« »You’ll have to teach me more then, otherwise I’ll call you a pretty idiot.« He chuckled, turning his head to place a kiss into the palm of her hand. »There’s too much fabric on you still,« he grumbled, sounding a little frustrated. Taking the hint, the brunette got up and stood before him, placing both hands on his shoulders once he had turned towards her fully. »I think you have to help me, cyar’ika,« she purred his way. 

Just like he was asked to, he pulled her pants down, halting when she suddenly flinched, his hand had accidentally grazed her scar »Sorry,« he apologized. »I forgot about it.« »It’s okay.« 

She stepped out of the pants when they were all the way down. The sight before her was one to behold. Din, in just his underwear, in the soft moon light, eyes full of love. »Come to me,« he purred, pulling her towards him by her hips. Instead of sitting next to him, Arana decided to be a little more upfront and sat on his lap. Without much hesitation he wrapped both arms around her, pulling her as close as he could without hurting her. Now a little taller than him, she placed a kiss onto his forehead. »I love you.« »I love you too.« Her neck wasn’t safe from more kisses, but she didn’t complain about it. Despite the soreness of her skin, it felt good to have him give her love bites and a million kisses. Especially so if he made the noises he did, further confirming that he was very into her. »Stars… you’re by far the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.« Din practically moaned against her skin, making her shiver. While she didn’t do much in her current position, it felt incredible to be so close to him. »I’m all yours,« is all she could muster up, her hip dragging along his thighs, seeking some kind of friction. »You’re driving me insane.« 

»Makes two of us.« Without a warning, hands grabbed her butt, pulling her as close as can be and tilting his hips ever so slightly that she could feel what she was doing to his helpless body. It just so happened to grant her the sensation she had longed for, causing her to let out a proper moan for the first time in his presence. She dragged him into a kiss to shut herself up, Din himself choking a moan while his hands guided her to keep going with the motions of her hips. It felt incredible. He felt incredible. Their silent moans only driving one another more insane. When she couldn’t take it any more, Arana pulled back to catch her breath, face against his forehead, panting. Her body was tingling, screaming for release. »I can’t take this any more. I need you.« There wasn’t much Din said, mainly because he was just as out of breath as she was. »Alright.« To proceed on the brunette left his lap to lie down on the bed, and as soon as she saw Din pulling his underwear down, her thoughts started racing a little. She was overly horny but still a little scared. Seeing him naked didn’t help ease that fear in the slightest. Her partner seemed to pick up on her nervousness and laid beside her, cupping her face in one hand. »You’re tense. Are you sure you want this?« It was commendable how careful he was to make sure she wouldn’t regret this. There was no going back, she was so worked up, she needed him. »Yes, I’m just nervous.« His hand started traveling down her body, pulling down the last bit of fabric she had on. She lifted her hip to help a little. »You don’t have to be. I’ll be gentle.« Another reassuring kiss occurred, then Din hoisted himself over her. At first she feared he would go right at it when his knee nudged her legs apart, but it was just to make space for his body, allowing him to kneel there. 

His lips traveled down her torso, in between her breasts, further descending. His beard tickled and every now and then he even nibbled on her skin. It was hard to not move, her body giving in every now and then, but there was no protest, so Din continued on. When he reached the scar on her groin, he gave it a very soft kiss, Arana flinching slightly. »Does it still hurt?« Din looked up to her, concern painted on his face. »No, it feels like a tingle. Like my nerves are –« while she was explaining, she felt his tongue lick over her scar, her leg twitching and her knee subsequently hitting his ribs. »Sorry,« he mumbled and kissed it again, this time without getting kicked. »I’m glad I trusted you enough to take you back to my ship.« »Me too.« His kisses wandered on, along the leg that had just made contact with his side. Arana had her eyes closed, lost in the sensation until she felt his kisses wander up her leg again, coming closer to where she wanted to feel him, but not like this. »What are you doing?« Her torso shot up, leaned onto her arms to look at him. His eyes were dark, practically black when he looked up to her. It was a sight to behold. »I want to taste you.« There was silence in the room, gears turning in her head. »No,« she quietly said. »No?« Din asked. There he was, comfortably lying in between her legs, his head close to her core. It felt cruel to tell him no, especially when he looked so hungry, but it didn’t feel right. »Next time?« she offered, not sure she would ever be ready for that. »Whenever you want to,« he said and placed a kiss up on her mound, far enough away that she didn’t feel the need to pull away. To be fair, the view she had just shortly, had been more than inviting, especially with his dark, pleading eyes. Din crawled back up, but halted just below her face. He placed a few kisses on her ribcage, then slowly moved over to one of her breasts. »This okay?« »Mh-hm,« she gave permission, feeling his lips envelop one of her nipples. It was hard to say what exactly it felt like, but the tension in her body left bit by bit and the intense pulling sensation inside of her returned. There was another moan when he pinched her other nipple, groaning a little while his face was practically buried in her breast. She actually grew a little impatient, softly urging him on. The pulling was turning from uncomfortable to painful, her body demanding release. »Din, please,« she whined. Her partner huffed a little when he laid down next to her again, probably just from the impact and not an actual response. His hand finally wandered back to her crotch. »Whatever you want, cyar'ika.« »Will it hurt?« She turned to look at him, and all she found in his face was pure affection. His hand lifted and angled one of her legs, caressing her skin while he was at it. »If I’m doing my job correctly it shouldn’t. If it does, tell me.« 

She felt his finger hit a wet spot, her slick spreading where he touched her. »Sorry,« she mumbled and hid her face in the crook of his neck, »I’m a little too excited.« Din’s face nuzzled into her hair, softly chuckling. »I don’t mind,« he assured her, kissing her hair. »You’ve touched yourself before, right?« »I have, but I’ve never been this – wet.« »I take that as a compliment.« She chuckled against his neck, giving him a kiss right where she could feel his pulse. »Di’kut.« She felt his finger glide over her clit, her hip bucking in response. It was a little torturous that Din spoke to her, but he wanted to take his time, and make it right. »I take it you’ve used your fingers?« »Yes.« His finger slid down to her entrance. »How many?« »Two at most.« »I’ll start with one.« 

»Wait,« Arana begged him. Din pulled his hand back, placing it on her thigh, waiting for her face to surface again. She was close enough to his face to feel his breath on her skin. »Can I touch you too?« She actually sounded a little shy, but se wanted to feel him too, and make this a little more comfortable for him. »Of course.« »Show me how.« With the hand that had just been exploring her, he took hold of the hand that was closer to him, guiding it towards his erection. He closed her fingers around him, her hand enclosed in his fist for a moment. She mimicked the movement he was guiding her to do, along his shaft with a little pressure. There was a soft moan from him and he bit his lip. That alone made it hard for her to focus. 

He was so hard in her hand and she was a little concerned how he would feel, as he was definitely bigger than two fingers of hers. And while she was at it, he slipped one finger into her. She inhaled sharply, somehow expecting it to hurt, but it didn’t. In fact, she could barely feel him inside of her. »Okay so far?« he checked in with her. »Yes.« »Can you even feel anything?« Arana exhaled, not really a huff and not really laughter, but amused none the less. »Not… really.« That’s when his thumb started gently rubbing her clit again, her face falling into the crook of his neck to moan. She changed the hand that was touching him, rotating her body towards his so she could be a little more comfortable, and he could be too. She tried her hardest to keep moving her hand but every now and then she would forget what she was doing, her mind blanking when he made her feel all the things she felt. Din’s soft groans were driving her mad if his fingers weren’t enough. She just assumed she was doing something right when he joined in on her moans. Her hip movements became a little more erratic and she had to choke a few moans on his shoulder. 

It felt like he changed the finger and before she could find out why, he slipped both of the now coated fingers into her. Another loud moan escaped her, Din nuzzling his head against hers. »“It’s okay, I got you,« he whispered, his fingers dragging in and out of her. Now she definitely lacked the focus to keep pleasuring him as well, and he didn’t seem to mind too much. To be fair, she wasn’t sure how far he wanted to take the foreplay when the actual sex hadn’t even happened yet. She kissed him, making out with him to somehow make all of the obscene noises stop. The soft groans and an occasional smack of lips was definitely more bearable than what was going on around Din’s fingers. 

Something changed. Whether it was because he picked up the pace or what, her body felt all tingly and she couldn’t stop panting against his skin. As much as she wanted to touch him, she couldn't. It was almost too much and opposed to her, Din knew what was going on with her. »Let go. Come for me, cyar’ika.«

And she did, a whiny moan came over her lips as she felt her body tense around his fingers and Din was so graceful to let go of her to wait until she was back in a clearer state of mind. She caught her breath slowly, nuzzling her face into his neck. »Did it feel good?« Arana couldn’t stop herself, she laughed. »What do you think?« They shared a kiss, her wrapping both arms around him. »Why did you make me come beforehand?« »I wanted to make sure you weren’t nervous any more and that you were taken care of before me.« He gave her another kiss. »I love you.« »Love you too, cyar’ika.« 

To proceed further, Din gently pushed her on her back, kneeling in between her legs. Arana gave in easily, a lot more relaxed now that he had taken care of her. He leaned over her, nudging himself right by her entrance. There was another look they exchanged, a deep gaze full of love. They had exchanged a lot of ‘I love you’s already, but neither really minded to hear it over and over again. The brunette just nodded, giving him permission to give her all of him. Din reveled in the feeling, eyes closed, lips parted and a soft moan escaping him while he slid inside of her. As if she needed any more reason to absolutely fall for this man. Din was gorgeous in the moonlight, his face painted with an expression of pure bliss, not to mention the feeling of him stretching her out until he had fully settled inside of her. He came closer to her, resting his forehead against hers, arms burying underneath her and executed the first thrust, a slow drag to cherish every second of it. It felt like he was hugging her, somehow closer now that their bodies were connected. »Don’t stop,« she whispered in a soft pant, so dangerously close to his lips. »Won’t,« he breathed, picking up the pace. Her eyes fell shut, fingers dove into his dark curls, holding him in place while his hips snapped against her body. Their moans fell into rhythm as did his thrusts, Arana not doing much besides kissing him on occasion and her hands caressing over his skin, feeling his muscles tighten with every move. 

It was incredible, the way their bodies felt like they were made for each other. Din didn’t need any commands, it was is if he knew what buttons to press to make this as enjoyable for her as possible.

Not sure how long he had been going at it, but she felt the same tightness in her body again, her muscles now very clearly tensing around him further and further. All she could muster up to alert her partner of her impending second orgasm were the same whiny moans she had let out earlier. Driven by the nonverbal signal, his movements became sloppier, harder, almost erratic. His arms came up from underneath her, holding him upright to have more room to thrust into her. With a louder moan, Din finished, the sensation of his muscles tensing driving his partner over the edge again. She felt a little bad about moaning so loudly, but she couldn't help it in the moment. Din didn’t care too much about her being loud. After a few breaths he lifted off of her, nuzzled into her side and pulled the cover over them. She cuddled into him, one arm around his torso as well. Despite the obvious noises she had just made, Din wanted to make sure she was fine. »You okay?« 

There was a pause so Arana could collect her thoughts. She and Din had just had sex. Her virginity was gone, and all she could feel was relief and so much love for her idiot. »Yeah, more than okay. Thank you.« Her index painted little hearts onto his skin. He attempted a shrug. »Thank you for trusting me.« She looked up, giving him a soft kiss. »You’ve saved my life when I was a stranger, of course I trust you.« »That’s fair.« The brunette rotated to lie on her back, her partner coming with her and now resting on her chest. Exhaustion took over quickly, even more so when engulfed into a hug in a relatively comfortable bed. Seemed no one would leave this bedroom before sunrise.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗Star Wars Masterlist ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

✮✮✮One Shots✮✮✮

Too Sweet (You've been a safe place for Din Djarin for years. He comes to you at his most vulnerable, but always has to leave before you're ready)

✮✮✮Multi-Chapter✮✮✮

Judgement Call (Din Djarin x Fm!OC)

✮Original on Ao3 here ✮Currently uploading a revamped version, with new chapters below✮

Part I: Pagodon Part II: Reward Part III: Travel Part IV: The Compound Part V: Trapped Part VI: The Egg Part VII: Nevarro Part VIII: The Raid

[idungoofed]

Lol hi, I haven’t been here in forever, but I’ve been writing things again. So here’s something that my sleep deprived brain has come out with tonight. An excerpt of a fic I’m hoping (and I say this so loosely) to try and write that’s set after Din leaves Grogu with Luke Skywalker, and basically tries to run away from his problems and ends up on Earth during covid and finds my OC, Cate, a chronically online, lonely, thirty-something year old. It’s fairly early on so feelings are being felt but because they are both idiots no one’s gonna admit their to them any time soon. Super self indulgent, first person, unedited or proof read, and not gonna lie, this character is basically me, so take it or leave it I guess ❤️

____________

Over the next few days Din and I got into an easy morning routine of me waking up and going down stairs to sleepily wander into the kitchen to turn the kettle on, while he leaves the crest and wanders down from the clearing, due any minute through the stable door I’d opened the top of to let the morning summer sun warm me as I made our coffees; Dins black, mine strong but milky with a half spoon of sugar.

The teaspoon clinks in Dins mug as I stir- I gave him the duck one today where the head protruded out the side and acted as the handle. I live for ugly tea cups and coffee mugs and secretly enjoy watching the blank expression of Dins helmet inspect the weirdest ones I have in my collection when I give them to him, wondering what expression plays across his face. I’ve decided against the penis mug so far.

A shadow falls across my body as Din appears at the door, blocking out the sun, and I think of stomping on the butterflies that have swarmed my stomach before I’d even looked up.

I don’t know when exactly it started happening, when I realised that the feeling of easy companionship started to be something more. It seemed if anything my body knew before I did, inwardly cringing at the obvious full body shudder than had run through me when Din steadied me with a hand to my waist when I’d lost my footing on the streams stepping-stones the other day.

I grab our coffees and turn towards him. I needed to get myself under control, there’s no way a bounty hunter who adventured through galaxies would be interested in someone like me, and the extremely boring life I was currently living, but as my eyes honed in to the black visor of his helmet my breath caught in my throat.

The golden morning glow of the sun beamed off the back of his helmet and armour, illuminating him as if he just walked out of some kind of heavenly light.

I smile at him as he unlatched the lower door and walked in, his presence dominating the small space.

“Morning.” I say, slightly too breathily, holding out the duck mug to him.

“Good morning, Cate. Thank you, but you don’t have to make-“ Din stops as he notices what I’ve served his coffee in today.

He takes the mug holding it up to look at, and I try hide my smirk at the ridiculousness of this tall, broad, armour covered man holding and having to drink out of something so dumb.

Din finishes his observation and holds the handle-head up in a cheers. “This is the best one so far.”

I guffaw and smile, shaking my head. “I’m glad you like it.” I look up at him as he holds the mug, not realising I’m basically staring at him with a dopey smile on my face at this point.

Din shifts his weight, breaking the spell he’s unwittingly out over me.

“Oh! Sorry!” My face heats as I realise what I was doing, “I’ll just be out side.” I say, looking away, I awkwardly skirt around him and out the door, slipping back into our routine where I leave him to sit in the sun outside, so he can drink his caffeine fix without fear of me seeing him without his helmet.

Din watches me go, gripping the absurd handle of the mug, wishing I could sit with him and continue looking at him in the way I was. In adoration, as if he was someone special, someone who deserved to be looked at like that.

He’d started to feel the magnetic pull between you both too, but couldn’t see how it could ever be more than one sided. How could someone so sweet, kind, and who lived a quiet life so many worlds different to his own ever want to be with someone like him?

——————

Thanks for reading❤️

Will there be more?!!?! I don’t know, I hope so, but either way I hope you liked it. I did start to write a fic a few years ago where Din comes to earth but it just wasn’t working, I have no idea if it’s even still up because lawd knows I thought about deleting it enough times, but this one feels better, more me.

[setokaibapetty]

5 + 1 Fic Friday Roundup: Went Viral

Some fanfiction where social media plays an important role.

I have acquired a child. (AO3) - Din Djarin asks space Reddit for parenting advice.

The #ImmortalHusbands Conspiracy (AO3) - The Old Guard's power couple, Joe and Nicky, are a Tumblr conspiracy.

In Which Dabi's Tits Save the League and Dismantle Hero Society (AO3) - Dabi inadvertently becomes an internet sensation.

Reddit Posts of a Crime Alley Kid (AO3) - "A character study of a hot trashfire of a human being in the DCUniverse as told through his many many Reddit posts."

The GARNet AU (AO3) - "The Coruscant Guard decides to make use of their copious free time and create a clone-only holonet. This is very great for the clones and very bad for everyone else."

Bonus: Undead Lockpick Inc. (AO3) - "Danny is a Locksmith with a serious grudge against Master Lock. Superman thinks because of the name that Master Lock must mean it's a good lock. Shenanigans ensue."

[lovelessdagger]

Starlight - Chapter 36: Pandemonium

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Graphic Violence. Derealization. Gore.

Words: 9.4k

Summary:  There are two lessons the children of Project Harvester are taught in the beginning of their indoctrination:

Treachery is the way of the Sith, and everything, especially stars, can die.

And this star, this burst light will die.

It is the retribution she is owed.

Masterlist | Starlight Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

There is a certain rare corridor within Moff Gideon’s light cruiser in which comfort is permitted. It is a place of modesty and low desire, passed by on the daily with little regard. Black linoleum tile and chrome plated paneling match the ships remainder. Ventilation crosses the ceiling, aqueduct piping carries soiled water to the recycling center five floors below. It is not, in the slightest, remarkable.

It isn’t glistening with the galaxy’s finest treasures, nor is it holding entrance to war rooms for discussions of strategy and how to best conduct the inhumane. In fact, the hallway is just that, a passage from one ships end to the other. It is perhaps, the most mundane location in the entire galaxy.

There is a single window spanning ten paces wide outlooking intergalactic space. Lightyears away from this vision, there are a multitude of collections of planets and moons and societies unknown.

It may be seen that on one of these planets, lives a family of modest or immodest means. A large family of wealth and legacy with roots implanted so deep into the planets soil the rest would rot without them. This family may be grand and expectant. With their world conquered, they depend on fame, indeed destroying themselves in the process, blind to consequence. Valuing a single orchid held high above a garden in the peak of summertime, allowing the rest to wilt.

Or, another exists. One far simpler. Where the technology of something as dull as an automatic door is foreign and of the gods. The household may contain many small generations, each doting on the next. They dress not in ornate designs and beads and pearls, but the skin of wolves and bears. They disguise themselves in the snow, the sons and daughters of an eternal winter. Fame is no concern of theirs, they do not know the meaning.

It is possible both families exist, and indeed they do. Artists and hunters, the greedy and the altruist, the summer and winter. The former destroyed themselves and the latter were overtaken by an empire of shadow. Whoever they are now, they are no longer their ancestors. In all but face they are unrecognizable. One wanting love from the loveless. One craving legacy from the unknown.  

None of it ever mattered until now.

In Lumina’s younger years, the Machine rarely spoke of his past. It was to remain as much of a mystery as she. Time divided into two eras, the Before and the After. Before, was Anakin. The Republic, the Jedi, the hero with no fear. After, was Vader. The Empire, the Sith, the villain with no mercy. There was nothing the Machine hated more than the Before. Any reminder, be it clothing, artifact, or speech sent the Machine into a dizzying spiral of rage.

She could never be present during the episodes, ordered to her quarters and locked in until new day. Only then could the Machine destroy everything in his path, call troopers to be slaughtered, disappear into his chambers and tanks. When she would emerge, the palace of Mustafar remained unchanged—save for a few new lightsaber scorch marks—and business would resume as if nothing had happened at all. Under any and all circumstance, the Before was to never be acknowledged. This was the unspoken rule.

It was quite the silly rule. She had no knowledge of the Before save for what the Machine permitted her to know. She did not know of Anakin Skywalker until their fateful day on Naboo, and had not discovered the truth of the Machine’s identity for many years past the point. And even so, she did not care until the horrid introduction of the other Skywalker into her life.

She allowed Anakin to remain dead among the countless Jedi and the Republic. The Machine, did not.

The Machine was utterly obsessed with the past. The fall of the Jedi, the death of Anakin, the birth of the Empire. Personal lectures—though a rare occurrence—told her of the many many enemies the Machine held, systemic and personal. All entities having betrayed him in one form or another and thus fallen into an unforgivable eternal damnation.

She thought herself to be the only sentient worthy of what she knew to be his affection. His time, his care, the meticulous planning of her life. He created she without the postulation of her want. She always found this to be a merciful deed, to be granted life and reason by the highest of powers.

Now it is but another curse onto the House she knows not of.

She has and indeed had suspicion of the Machine and his intention of her. Spoken he said onto she, “You are of the only whom have not betrayed me.”

She thought the idea preposterous and the Machine more like God, she his closest angel. Betrayal could never be a thought possible, and for as long as she was his, it was not.

Lumina stares out the window into the endless space and countless worlds. She believed that there existed a realm which she belonged to. With a mother and father, a beautiful home on a beautiful planet with beautiful children.

She now knows it does not.

The issue is not in the discovery of whatever truth Gideon or the troopers or Doctor Pershing may believe. So say she is a clone, what is the difference now so many years into life? It would explain much. The recognitions, the abilities, the desire to know and unending  connection. She is yet again a second being, this is not new, it does not change her.

It does however, change him.

Vader, the Machine, her father, her Maker.

If she were as intentional to him as the morning star why had he insisted on her foul treatment? Why choose the other? Should a child of his blood be more valued than of his mind? He molded her from clay with careful hands and succeeded in the creation of life. Why then entrap her in temptation and darkness? Why then abandon her? How is she not a celebration? How can she not be guaranteed her fathers love when she did not ask to live?

He is meant to love her, that is his duty. His care should be her only guarantee from the universe. He could be evil to the rest, destroy any world he saw fit, call upon the dead star dragon of his nightmares so long as he loved her. So long as her father gave her his virtue, he could destroy man and she would forgive him.

He gave her nothing but infections of sin that she can never wash clean of. Nothing but endless terror and unrest. He stripped her of childhood and benevolence before she knew the word. If all he wanted was a child to replace what had been lost, why is she the victim?

What of whom she came from? The bearer of her makeup she should hope to know as a mother. Was her choosing intentional or was she too a casualty of the Force?

Had she been bright and good and smart and kind and clever and joyous? Did she know of her built reflection? Did she care? Was she a follower of the Machine or in worse fate a friend of Anakin? Would she regard Lumina as a daughter or a monster?

Lumina turns the mask in her hand, cracked from impact, supposing she is the latter. She adjusts the communication on a stolen radio, the frequency landing on a bypass channel.

“Block all entry way to the hangar for the Grand Inquisitor,” says Officer Kane.

So that’s where her dear so called sister hides, planning an escape no doubt. Lumina arrived to her private quarters, hopeful for a quick confrontation. Results were nil, though not useless. She retrieved her saber, pistol, and dagger, each safely tucked away.

“Should you see the girl, kill her.”

Lumina snorts at the instruction. Who did Kane believe to speak to? Her forces are all but dead if not by Lumina’s hand than the Mandalorian’s. Thinking they stand any chance against her is ridiculous. As a matter of fact, the whole situation is so ridiculous she forgets of her existentialism completely. Let them fear her and let her derive enjoyment. It should not matter anymore. At the end of her thoughts, Lumina laughs placing the mask over her face, not caring if she were the monster at all.

---

As the cell opens Din cannot help but remark a surprised muttering. The code cylinder placed in his pocket by Gideon’s guard, secure in the control panel had actually worked. Finding Cara Dune and Koska dazed inside the bridge had been its own debacle, neither remembering the specifics of their arrival. The explanation and trade of Gideon was brief, Din’s intentions misplaced. Distracted.

“Bo-Katan, Fennec, what happened?” His investigation quickly lost to a certain green and incredibly small sentient, waddling with sunbeam screams. 

The Child wastes no time, neither does Din but a Force induced jump across the room is quicker than either can walk. Grogu lands in the Mandalorians arms and babbles of nothing but delight. 

“Hey,” Din whispers. His voice breaks and he does not care to comment. “Hey, I missed you too.” He pulls away, inspecting every inch of green wrinkled and whiskered skin. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Grogu rattles his typical nonsense speech, expecting his father to catch every meaning. Din senses a fluttering inside himself, a rattling chain beginning to fall. “Good,” he says in agreement. “I’m glad you’re safe.“ He catches Fennecs stare. “We should talk.”

“We should,” she agrees. “However now may not be suitable. With this Inquisitor going rampant we’re running out of time.”

“The Inquisitor is the last our problems. Moff Gideon has a guard out on a murder spree.”

“The Inquisitor?”

“No. Someone else. I’ve faced the Inquisitor, this one is different. She’s trained the same like Jedi but… she’s stronger. Much stronger.” Exchanging looks, Fennec whispers an obvious fuck. “The Inquisitor she—when we fought she struggled. She was desperate, manic, uncontrolled. This one could have killed me in her sleep. She’s destroying the ship, the entire east wing of the second floor is demolished. Hyperdrives could be next, the engine, who knows.” 

“Why would she do that?” Din notes a strangeness in Fennec’s tone, less quizzical more concerned. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Bo asks. “She serves Moff Gideon. Abandon your hope.”

“Gideon wouldn’t instruct his own men to wreck his ship.”

“He would if knows he can’t leave this without a fight, never mind alive. If he’s certain he won’t survive, why allow the rest of us? This leaves us distracted while he escapes. Again. We should reroute to the hangar. With luck we’ll catch him, if we don’t we’ll make it out before she strips us dead.“

“We can’t leave,” Fennec argues. “We assured Boba we would bring Lumina no matter what.”

“Right now we don’t have a choice,” Bo says. “My priority is Gideon. I’ve gone too long without what is rightfully mine. I will have my victory.”

“You won’t have to worry about that,” Din interrupts. He presents Bo-Katan with the Darksaber, slipped off the loop of his belt. “I believe this is yours.”

Her intake is sharp, she flinches. “You defeated Moff Gideon?”

“I haven’t killed him, but yes. I have.” 

“Have you lost your mind?” Bo accuses, anger quick to rise. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? I made it clear Gideon was mine. No one else was to engage.”

“He attacked me, what was I supposed to do?”

“Evade. Die. I don’t care. You were not meant to grab the Darksaber.”

“It’s just a sword.”

“It is not!” Bo snaps. “It is not, ‘just a sword’. It is a relic of a world—a people you know nothing of. It is the one thing that can unite Mandalorians once and for all. It is the sword that killed my only sister—” She cuts in a shaking sigh. “You are not worthy. You know nothing of leadership, unity.”   

“So take it.”

“I cannot take it,” Bo-Katan hisses. “The Darksaber must be won in combat just as you have done to Moff Gideon. It cannot be gifted.”

“Why?”

“Because it was once gifted to me! And tragedy fell onto Mandalore, the item is cursed. It lives somehow, it knows and has memory.”

“You don’t honestly believe that,” Din scoffs. “If we must fight then I yield. It is yours.” He displays the hilt, flat edge comfortably nestled in his palm. “Take it.”

“Where is Moff Gideon now?” 

“Detained at the bridge with Cara.”

“Alive?”

“Yes.”

Bo-Katan’s helmet weighs heavy with placement. She shoves past Din. “The burden is yours. Gideon is mine.”

---

The hangar of Moff Gideon’s light-cruiser sits still and lined with vehicle—TIEs, cargo transporters, and the sweet lambda class shuttle taken by the Mandalorian and his gang of misfits, lodged into the launch bay like a too big to swallow chunk of food.

There is one balcony, above the main entrance which stretches the wall, and crates of various weaponry and repair parts rest scattered along. Emergency lights coding evacuation flash red and a steady hummed buzzing signals as a siren.

Lumina walks into the soon to be arena, her arms stretched with warm invitation. “I know you’re here!” She shouts, modulation echoing. “You have no where to run. Gideon has been captured, your troopers are dead, your army is not present, and now they are known to the entire galaxy. I am here,” she says. “I stand alone.”

Her senses tune, movement coming from the balcony, mouse like footsteps. She does not move. “Perhaps I will kill Gideon myself,” she taunts. “I’ve taken a hand… what’s a head? Or, I could rip his tongue, strip him of speech. Better yet, I’ll make it so he forgets all about you. Then you will truly be no one. A forgotten bug that slipped extermination. Someone my father would kill before ever bestowing the title of Grand Inquisitor to. A true Sith would never hide from confrontation, she would initiate. Even a Jedi would not be so cowardice.”

In a swooping strike, Ghost leaps off the balcony. She dives on Lumina with a fiery ignited saber, screaming. The effort, while commendable, is a futile one. In an instant she is frozen in the air, muscle and bone locked. Lumina turns, her head tilted, right hand lazily raised to chest level.

“There you are.”

She takes three steps back, dropping her arm. With the loss of momentum, Ghost crashes onto the tile, her lightsaber skids away. “It’s such a shame Grand Admiral Thrawn remains lost. I would have listened to him.”

Her counterpart growls, rising. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lumina retracts the Inquisitor’s lightsaber, hilt soaring into her grip. Callous, she throws the weapon to Ghost’s feet, igniting her own. The thought had entered to finish it all now, before it began. But Ghost had spent so long and worked so hard for this very moment—and Lumina’s father had, of course, taught her manners—letting her try felt like the noble thing to do.

Ghost rushes Lumina head on, leaping into the air yet again.

Red blades clash, and the gates of hell open.

---

Bo-Katan enters the bridge with a storm of fire. Din and Fennec follow at a slower pace, the former holding the Child. Gideon is worse for wear, mutilation inflicted by Din spilling blood and making him blue. She growls, “You.”

“Lady Kryze,” Gideon greets. “How kind of you to join us.”

“You son of a—”

Cara steps in-between. “You can’t touch him,” she warns.

“Like hell I can. Do you have any idea what he’s done? To die by my hand is the least of what he deserves.”

“He is under New Republic custody. If you intervene with his arrest, I have the jurisdiction and duty to throw you into a cell next. Then you can yell at him all you want when you’re both in prison.”

Her brow quirks. “I’m only in trouble if you tell.”

“Don’t worry, I will.”

“I never pictured a dropper to be a bootlicker too, thought it went against your M.O.”

“Keep talking and it’ll be my boot kicking your ass.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Trust me your highness, we can arrange that.”

“Knock it off,” Din interjects. “Both of you. Gideon holds no threat, he’s not the enemy anymore.”

“Oh yeah?” Cara scoffs. “You have any idea who is?”

“No.” He nods to Gideon. “But he might.”

“Me?” The Imperial questions, feigning innocence. “What would I possibly know?”

“You could start with telling us about this Inquisitor you have running rampant,” Fennec says. “And how we stop her.”

“Which one?”

“Don’t be cute.”

“Oh Ms. Shand, I would never think of it. I detest cuteness.”

“Half your ship is destroyed and you’re making jokes?” Din asks. “Your illusionist. Where is she?”

“Why should you care? You can’t stop what’s happening out there.”

“Answer the question.”

Gideon shrugs. “If she’s smart, she’s made a break for the hangar.”

“Check the cameras, I want her found.” Din instructs Koska. He hands the Child to Bo-Katan. “If anything happens, promise me you’ll watch over him.”

Her eyes flicker. “Why would I need to do that?”

“Just swear to me. Bound yourself by Creed.”

“What exactly do you plan to do?”

“I’m going to face her.”

“Are you crazy?”

“I’ve done it before.”

“You hardly survived that,” Fennec says. “She’ll tear you apart.”

“This time is different. I know her tricks, and besides,” he pats the Darksaber on his hip, “I have this.”

“You have no idea how to use it.”

“I’ve used a sword before, it can’t be that different.”

“How many times must I tell you?” Bo hisses. “This is more than a sword, and you are unprepared for it.” 

“If it’s so important to you, when this is over you can teach me.”

“Let us find Lumina,” Fennec begs. “She is still somewhere aboard. If you insist on fighting, you’ll stand better chance to take her with you.”

“I can’t do that,” Din says. “I have to go alone.”

“I know you have your issues with her, given… everything. And I know you think you’re doing the brave thing here, but you’re not. What you are is being incredibly stupid.”

“Fennec, you don’t understand.”

“No, you don’t understand. The only person who can make certain you survive is her. She’s out there somewhere, I’m sure just as scared as you are. Let’s find her and then deal with the rest.”

“I can’t.”

“You have to snap out of this Mando. A week ago you were going to propose, you were adamant on it. No amount of dark magic can change how you feel that intensely. Find her.”

“I can’t,” he repeats, gritted. “Now drop it.”

“Why?”

“Because Lumina is dead,” Din snaps.

The bridge confronts ear shattering silence.

“She’s dead,” he says again, breath heavy. “She’s dead and it’s my fault. And that—that thing—” he points to the door “—out there pretended to be her.” His voice drops dangerously low. “I’m not asking permission. I didn’t kill Gideon, I’m taking her.”

“Mando,” Fennec says, soft. “I need you to listen to me. Lumina is alive. I promise you.”

“Stop lying to yourself,” Bo-Katan says, a perpetual tiredness in her voice. “Let her be dead, it’ll be easier for everyone this way.“

“You’re not serious?”

“I’ve said from the beginning that she should never exist. Look what’s come since. Now gods know what is happening outside these doors, but I don’t look to find out. No one is going anywhere and no one else is dying. We wait here until its resolved itself. I’m not having anyone risk their lives for a clone.”

Gideon’s lips peel off his teeth into a sharp smile. Like a snake, he hisses with venom, “You know. How?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Why haven’t you told Din Djarin the truth? He’ll find out sooner than later.”

To Cara, Bo asks, “Isn’t there a way to shut him up?”

Din interrupts, “Tell me what?”

“Nothing,” Bo says.

“Tell him, Lady Kryze,” Gideon taunts. “Tell your Mand’alor who he should really fear.”

“Quiet!’ Bo snaps. “Everyone be quiet.”

And they are.

For a total of ten seconds.

“I hate to interrupt this truly thrilling interaction,” Koska says. She moves to the main computer terminal in the rooms center. “But you all should see this.”

A blue holoprojection appears of a live CC capture recording of the cruiser’s hangar. The footage is grainy, but the intention clear. Chaos has erupted. TIES on the ground, equipment thrown out of boxes. Two masked figures leaping across the room, lightsabers crashing.

---

The heat of battle bears witness to many inescapable truths which linger the galaxy. While the girl may hold five of importance, the phantom carries seven. The first of which being that no amount of gluttony for darkness can equalize eighteen years of intensive training compared to thirteen lackluster ones.

While Ghost is skilled in her saber, she is not wise. Her strikes are chaotic and imprecise with aim only to mutilate and maul. She has no study of those before her, no detailed holos of the fallen Republic, no artifacts of taste.

Her use of the dual ended lightsaber, a standard of the Inquisitor, is amateur at best. Her fight lousy. Lumina plays her like a game, standing still while the other bounces to strike. She side steps once, dodges with an uncommitted turn.

She may even yawn.

The fact of the matter is Ghost is not Sith, and perhaps may never be. She is only angry.

It isn’t good enough.

She had grown to believe a truce of sisterhood, concept forced upon by the highers. Those of their breeding, being so limited and so desired, were meant to forge bonds. In fighting would only cause downfall and any alleviation of the matter was best implemented at indoctrination. For so long, years of her childhoods lost innocence she believed a foe so close could never form. She’d see betrayal eons away. But she’d grown lazy and complacent, figuring coincidences as nothing more. And still, some part of her believes she’s capable of the upper hand, of surprising the enemy.

Even now, she’s yet to learn.

Ghost would have made a decent apprentice to the Machine, Lumina figures. The Inquisitor chases her around the hangar, striking at every opening she sees. She’s slow, but in time realizes a need for something more in their spat. A driver greater than to simply kill.

A reason.

Despite her own denial, Ghost does care. It is the root of her downfall, her caring. Not of love or kindness or joy, but for the seduction of the dark. The story loops on itself at every intersection of her life. Her determination is strong but ill placed. Her presentation to the darkness, the idea of the Machine, the figment of his Maker, holds no self respect. She’s given everything for little return and continues to beg for mercy.

Lumina can’t focus on this for too long.

She can’t afford to give pity.

Both to Lumina’s relief and reluctance, Ghost would never accept the condolence. She finds it an accomplishment, and the former cannot fault her. She had believed the same once not so long ago. Should Lumina sit with her thoughts for too long, she’d believe it again as if nothing changed. They each carry pride, it’s sickening and feeds on insecurity. It grows in every victory. Lumina is only now learning to starve. Ghost continues to indulge.

The event grows precarious on the scale of victory. As more destruction rains, the Inquisitor wants something greater than a kill. She wants proof of power, the identifier of title. She craves to be holder of the story Lumina never wanted. Should she succeed, she will take the place of the unworthy. She will rewrite history. She will become it.

This is all of course, impossible.

She cannot win, not now.

The writings were never meant to be this way.

She is not the child of greed, nor the child of that child. Sin runs deep but it is not her bloodline. She is not the daughter of evil’s face nor its desire.

CF-313 is the daughter of the easily slain and holds no inheritance. She is the product of a man, his wife, and neighboring tribes. She has not a notice of death or birth. She never bore thought to all who came before, they have always been reminders of human fragility. Her existence is not the outcome of fate. Her collection was not due to a balancing force, reparations or twisted promises. Her keeper did not gaze upon her and see a protégé or an object of desire. Only a child.

Her life, the anomaly and blackhole portal it is, is defined by this exquisite lack of third party interest. Every action is taken to capture allure and yet she is given no more than passive acknowledgment.

CF-313 has not always been this way. There had been a point long long ago where she lived with compassion and grace. A life where her mother would make a doll out of straw and hide. She would care for livestock, join her father on hunt, build angels in the snow. Her legs no longer than her torso ran through fresh powder and mittened hands pulled hats tight. 

Her entry into Project Harvester occurred later than most, well past nursing age. The day coming after she completed three and a half standard rotations.

Her blue sky became shadowed with capital ships entering orbit, machines then thought of as monsters of folklore descending from the sky. Her father and his father sprinted outside with spears and shouts and never returned. Clones, those spared from the Empire’s forced retirement, stormed her home. Her grandmother tried to protect their hut. Her mother tried to protect her.

In truth they never had a chance.

There was blood upon the snow, seeping onto her covered feet.

Drifa, as she had then been known, suddenly was alone. She would remain alone forever.

The polysemy of her new name is insulting. She is see through, translucent. The falsified images she spent a lifetime perfecting are nothing more than an artificial phantom. She is an all encompassing ghost and reminder of death. 

The past six years of her exile have seen nothing but a dedication to perfection. Her strength, her determination, her power. She is an undefeated duelist, a remarkable strategist, and a legendary illusionist. In another life she would have made a great Jedi, in this life she makes a greater Sith apprentice. 

She is among the best there has ever been, displaced only by the idols of her worship. In present, her status is threatened by a fixed obsession. A calculated reunion thirteen years in the making. A nonhuman test tube creation given a seat at the table while she fed at scraps. And this… abomination, this creature, it is the true cause of her misery. 

Ghost herself is a creature of habit, she is human, it is natural. She has grown many many habits over the course of her lifetime. Habits of hate, greed, pride, intolerance, envy. 

Hatred for those who learned quicker. Greed for extra rations, attention. Pride when others would be sent into solitary, terminated. Intolerance for the aliens whose inhuman abilities aid in combat. Envy dedicated to the runt of their litter. A girl her opposite. By far the youngest of their class, smallest by correlation. A girl who ran laps on obstacle courses, snuck off in the midnight hours for private tutoring, who could lift blocks with her mind before knowing how to tie her shoes. Envy for a girl who was—and in fact grew up to be— inconceivably perfect. Who honestly and carelessly believed Ghost could have any positive intention for her wellbeing.

There are two lessons the children of Project Harvester are taught in the beginning of their indoctrination:

Treachery is the way of the Sith, and everything, especially stars, can die.

And this star, this burst light will die.

It is the retribution she is owed.

---

“I want to give you a chance,” Lumina says. Ill timed maybe, but she’s only learning. Five yards separate their bodies, Ghost’s more ravaged than her own. “We both know we’re wasting energy. You know how this will end.”

“Yes,” the other agrees. “It ends with your heart in my hands.”

“ Ghost,” Lumina stresses. “You’re weak. You’re being eaten alive. It’s hell. I know it’s hell. Everything you feel. Every fire inside, I know it. I feel it the same, I feel it stronger than you ever will. It’s never going to stop Ghost. You’re going to live every day wishing it was your last and you’ll never do anything about it because deep down you like it. And it’ll only get worse. And everything you think you want won’t matter. Power, the Empire, becoming whatever it is you’re trying to be. It won’t matter. You won’t care.”

“You’re wrong. Everything has been handed to you. Killing you will prove I have earned everything you have. I deserve what you own.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. It’s not worth finding out,” Lumina says. “Listen to me. I was given a chance. A choice. To change, to leave what we know behind.” She steps forward. “A Jedi showed me compassion even after all I had done. I begged her to kill me and she did not. Now, I am this. This is not what you want.”

“You’re proposing to show me mercy?” Ghost mocks. “How touching.”

“No. You won’t change, I know that. You will continue to fight until you can’t recognize your own madness. I’m offering you what I was denied. An easy escape. My father knew the only way he could have peace was in death. He denied it until he couldn’t. I continue to be denied it. You want to be better? Accept it. Leave with dignity knowing it was by your own control.”

“You’re right,” Ghost says, stoic. “I don’t care for the Empire. I’m going to create a new order. The first of its kind.” Out of the corner of Lumina’s vision a steel crate rises in the air. It’s contents spill with the power of the Force and spew in Lumina’s direction. A TIE exhaust pipe beats her chest, slamming her to the wall. Every word Ghost says is punctuated in wrath. “And abominations like you will never exist again.”

---

Lumina stays pinned behind a pillar, catching her breath. Ghost is relentless, an unshakable force. A speeder engine flies and crashes at the wall against her head. She can hear the Inquisitor’s taunts from across the way.

Don’t get scared now, we’ve only just started!

I thought you wanted a fight!

And the worst: Is this all Vader could raise?

Needless to say, Lumina is getting seriously pissed off. But she can’t move when the ships entire storage is getting blasted for her own decapitation. Especially not with her saber caught under Ghost’s regulation shined boot.

So much for an easy match.

Shit.

“C’mon dad,” Lumina whispers. “Give me a sign here.”

To her surprise, he does. Her skin prickles in anticipation, fleeting vision captured on a control panel.

That works.

She breaks for it, sprinting and prying the box open with her knife. It’s a mess of wires twisting over and around another, plugged into nonspecific outlets. She tears a glove off with her teeth and, with only minimal regret, plunges her hand inside the electrics.

---

Throughout the heat of battle the Mandalorian holds his breath. He watches the live holocast with such an intensity and such a grip to the rim of the central terminal, were he any kind of superhuman it would snap. Their grouping, whatever they may be called, remains silent. Moff Gideon himself does not dare to speak, his jaw locked. The Child sits alone. Fennec averts her attention whenever possible while Bo-Katan is as glued as he is.

Maybe more.

Of course there is no time to wonder, nor is there necessarily a want—Din has already come so far in his life shrouded in mystery (and it was only until they began to be uncovered did the downward spiral begin), he could go longer without complaint—but the mechanics of the ships bridge enter a freak seizure of a sort. All systems flash uncontrolled in and out of power. The holo, cuts. They end in darkness.

Arguments ensue, as is to be expected. Cara announces a shut down of the ships mechanics, Koska struggles to find and activate the backup generator.

Gideon enjoys the chaos far too greatly.

When the ship powers on not a minute later Koska announces, “We’re back online. Everything looks standard. Hyperdrive, engines, boosters, landing gear. All operational.”

“What about the hangar?” Din asks. “Get the holo back up.”

“I’m trying. I can’t get a hold of cameras and read outs suggest a total blackout.”

“Can’t you reboot the system again?” Fennec asks.

“I could if there was anything to reboot. It’s more than the connection being down, the connection doesn’t exist. It’s as if the electrics were totally removed.”

“How can that happen?”

“It can’t. Not that fast. Whatever happened must have damaged the central generator there, making it blow out.”

“So that’s it? Those two things are just…” Cara waves out. “And we have no idea where they are or what they’re doing?”

“Looks like it.”

“Great. So what now? Sit here until they get bored of each other and come for us?”

“Right now? Yeah. That’s our best option.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“Will everyone calm down?” Bo interjects. “As of now there is no threat to us. We continue what we have been doing and stay here. Live feed or not, they’re out for each other, not us. All other cameras are operational. If either of them emerges we will know. If none come out within a suitable amount of time we assume they’ve left or better yet are dead. Only then do we exit. Is that clear?”

No one answers, but Koska does swear, hurrying about the controls. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. No!”

“What is it?”

“The reset? Looks like it reset everything.”

“Meaning?”

“The Dark Troopers are beginning activation.”

“What?”

“I’m trying to cancel the start up but nothing’s working.” Attention snaps to Gideon. “How do you turn these off?”

He says, “You can’t.”

“Bantha,” Koska counters. “Every good program has a kill. If you don’t want a blaster beam in your head, I suggest you tell me.”

“You can’t touch him—” Cara attempts.

“Prison won’t matter if those droids kill us. What’s the off?”

“There is none,” Moff Gideon says. “The Dark Troopers are only activated when absolutely necessary. They are the last resort. And by now… they’ve sensed the distress signal coming from my suit. They will not stop. All of you are in grave danger and will die. And there is nothing, and certainly no one, that can stop it.”

“Bo, what do we do?” Koska asks. “It’s your call.”

“I—” she hesitates, “We should…”

“Bo?”

“I’m thinking,” she says. “Give me a minute.”

“We don’t have a minute,” Fennec argues. “We have now. Right now. Either you have a plan or you don’t. The call is yours. What do we do?”

“…I don’t know.”

Din takes the Child, who begins his nonsense speech, in his arms. “We do nothing,” he says. “We stay here. We wait. We fight if we have to.”

“We fight we die,” Koska says. “There’s no way out of this.”

“What do you think?” He asks Grogu, quiet. “Think we’ll make it?”

His babbled response comes with a nodding head.

And for some inexplainable reason, Din believes it.

“See? We’ll be fine.”

---

In the future Lumina plans on actually learning whatever the hell is going on with her abilities. For now, knowing she is in fact not dying will do the job. After her unintentional light-show, the power ultimately decided not to stay on, submitting them to both a figurative and literal darkness.

Begrudgingly, Lumina slides her glove back on. Negative, she has no idea what to do now. Positive, Ghost either ran out of projectiles or is just as confused. She can work with that.

Probably.

She hears, you little freak, before the disturbing power up of a saber and sees the hues of red light. Lumina sinks to the floor, crawling to another cover. Mentally, she chastises herself. She’s being careless, reckless. She’s not thinking. Not like how she should be. Years, decades of excruciatingly detailed combat training thrown out window and into hyperspace.

She wasn’t trained for this. The pseudo torture sessions and body breaking workouts never included anything close to the current situation. Too much is happening. She’s distracted, overly anxious, it’s affecting her call to the Force. She takes off her mask, head resting on her knees.

What would the Machine do?

Kill everyone on board then himself. Not exactly helpful… Ahsoka, she’s sure, would step out with some gods awful speech about forgiveness and love. Hard pass. The Mandalorian, despite his streak of bad luck, would never be in this position in the first place, and Boba…

Boba.

With expert speed, Lumina unwraps the fabric from her arm and ties the red cloth tight over her eyes. Her hand runs across the ground, senses tracking footsteps. Ghost is thirty feet away, her lightsaber with both blades ignited. She walks in a clockwise circle, ten feet in diameter.

Vibroblade close to her chest, Lumina sneaks along the space crouched. She climbs over tipped storage and thrown gear. Her movement like a snake, hurried and precise with one prey in mind. She’s faster than she’s ever been, trusting her enhancements to guide the way.

Ghost shouts for her, voice covered in gravel. “You can’t hide forever! I will find you! I will always find you!” Her statements sound more like a promise than a mere threat.

Lumina thinks, selfishly; Good.

In a single bound Lumina leaps the remaining distance between them. She clears the top of Ghost’s lightsaber, movements tracked only by the faint blue light of her dagger. She slashes the Inquisitor’s back, shoulder, and plummets the blade into her side. Ghost cries out in searing agony but cuts are no match adrenaline and the dark side. Lumina jumps in front and cuts across Ghost’s stomach, impact signaled a warmth of blood sliding down the knife.

Lumina then swings around right as Ghost’s saber whizzes to her location. She kicks the Inquisitor in the back of her legs, bringing her to her knees. Her leg kicks out, slamming against her spine. Ghost’s lightsaber drops and powers off, leaving the two in pure black air.

The fight carries to the floor in an utterly barbaric way. They punch and kick, grabbing hair and throats. Lumina gains the upper hand and straddles Ghost. She rips off the Inquisitor’s mask and uses the disguise as a weapon, smashing it against her face.

In that moment Ghost becomes more than an Inquisitor, more than a thought to be friend, more than what Lumina had seen in her ever since their reunion—a victim just as she is, a mess of delusions and aspirations. In Lumina’s blinded vision, Ghost becomes everything she hates. Arkanis for her lost childhood, Neri Kelli and Relena for their claimed ownership of her, the Empire for the rules of her beliefs, the Emperor for the scars on her back, Skywalker for taking the love she deserves.

Herself.

For everything.

Lumina’s attacks turn sloppy, weak. The wrapping around her eyes slides down her face, she struggles to adjust to the enveloping ink. Ghost’s mask is thrown aside, she crawls off the Imperial’s torso, gagging.

Damn this, she thought it would be over.

Why isn’t it over?

Sounds grow muffled, Lumina’s heart pounding in her head. The dark shadow of her torment comes through stronger than ever. He isn’t satisfied in guiding her motions or tempting her thoughts. The devil wants to devour. On her knees Lumina bends to rest her head on the cool floor. She screams until her throat breaks raw. She stands on shaking limbs, wiping her face to clear sweat and smear blood.

Ghost stays on the floor, moved some feet away from where Lumina left her. The second marches on, grip in the Force controlling the first to kneel.

“You can’t kill me,” Ghost gasps, desperate. “Remember, darkness dominates our destiny. You’re still Sith in your blood whether you like it or not. I feel your hatred. Your anger, it blooms. If you kill me now, you give in to everything you tried to escape. But if you let me live, you prove you’re nothing but a Jedi. Weak to your emotions, your compassion, your love. Face it, no matter how this falls, I win.”

Ghost’s lightsaber shoots into Lumina’s hand, she breaks it in half. “Let’s clear some things up,” she says. “First, I am the child of the Lord Vader. Not Skywalker, not some princess, not you. Me. Second, you will never compare to me.” Twin blades cross at Ghost’s throat, each hovering above opposite shoulders. “Third,” she breathes. “I am not a fucking Jedi.” The blades snap together, cutting the trachea of the Inquisitor with horrifying care.

And…

And nothing happens.

No head rolls on the floor, no profuse bleeding, no murdered and murderer staring beyond the realm of the living as had occurred with Anakin Skywalker and Count Dooku.

None of it happens.

Ghost continues to stare up at Lumina with large ice blue eyes and a never-ending eldritch grin. Her presence fades away, never having existed at all.

Across the arena, the engine of the Mandalorian’s lambda class shuttle powers on, energy boosts blasting flaming heat. Lumina rushes across the bay, her hand grasping the invisible air. The ship struggles to rise, rattling in the launch tube. Her feet step back and dig into the ground.

A surge of energy floods her body, shocking every active nerve ending. She mutters, what the hell? And connects to the Force and the circuits of the ship. She finds the holding bay of the Dark Troopers, leaving their charging stations.

The choices are clear. Bring back the lambda and Ghost, waste more time on another battle, and inevitably win. In turn, lose the Mandalorian, the Child, and everyone else to the Dark Troopers and Gideon.

Or… not.

There is really, only one choice.

Lumina lets go.

---

Were there a word to define the blaring silence within the light cruiser’s bridge, a new word would still need creation for the description of it in tenfold. No body moves but Gideon’s, lungs heavy in his unconscious state—a new development of circumstance and built anger from Bo-Katan.

They all watch with baited breath as one figure emerges from the hangar, face covered, hooded cloak flowing behind. One by one Dark Troopers are destroyed. Sliced and punctured by a lightsaber, crushed by the Force. The figure doesn’t stop or take pause to commit, they continue without thought. Like they themselves were a mindless droid working on another’s command.

The last of the troopers she takes with passive attention, the final having sparks fly from an imploded chest cavity.

She stops at the door. 

They all suspect, in deep naivety, the destroyer will believe life does not exist inside the bridge and spare their lives. Each watches the monitors scattered, their plan may work after all. The assailant does not attempt entry, a feat entirely possible despite the sealed blast doors. Instead, she takes pause, turns her weapon off, and walks away.

Grogu whines from his new seat adjacent from the monitor overlooking the hall. He reaches out, ears drooping.

Now, despite a many recent occurrences which prove otherwise, Din considers himself to be a smart man. He is logical, perceptive, objective, and when need be totally impassive and controlled. He understands what needs to be done and why, he understands their consequence and impacts. He is the last to argue when it comes to doing something right, he knows his role, the part he has perfected.

For the longest time, he could swear his knowledge of the Mandalorian Creed to his soul. The tenants of his faith, the obstructions placed upon with no doubt or argument. And Din Djarin is a Mandalorian, one should have no doubt of it. Beskar molds to his body so close it the metal carries in his blood. His existence without the Creed is nil, he is nothing.

He believes this, gods he doesn’t believe much at all but he believes the value of his spirit lays in beskar. He carries his missteps everyday since they have been committed. He remembers the rain, the feelings of droplets on his face, the chill of a passing smoky wind. When he is alone with his thoughts he remembers the sensation of a warm touch. First on Canto, a light exploratory dance. Then his ship in a desperate clash. How he tempted revelation on Arkanis, Naboo, Daro, Corvus, hyperspace where worlds to not yet exist, in the dark where he can forget they do. He feeds the urge like a drug, he can’t stop.

He knows nothing. Not anymore.

The headaches, the migraines, they turn into an itch. A rash. He burns. His head, his chest, his hands, his lungs. Something awful has taken over, this unwanted desire to finally know again. To seek and be sought, to regain peace and yet chase it forever. To leave and never come back, to stay and never think of leaving. To discover and remain lost. Alive in his grave, dead above the soil.

The Child whines again.

“Open the doors.”

“Are you crazy?” Cara asks.

“I said open the doors.” He approaches the controls, blocked by Bo-Katan. “Move.”

“Let go,” she says. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I don’t care. Open the doors or get out of my way.”

“You’ll thank me for this. We can find help, get you fixed. But you can’t go out there.”

“I don’t want that.”

“You don’t know what you want, you can’t think straight.”

“Let him go,” Fennec says. “He’d find out eventually. Let them have this.”

Bo’s eyes dart between them, a settling sigh. “Okay,” she whispers. “Okay. Have it your way, Mand’alor.”

What remains of the light cruiser is a haunted mansion, phantoms creaking the floor, guiding Din’s feet to be blamed for the noise. He follows the trail of remaining Dark Trooper parts, overstepping detached light receptors and ion charging ports. He’s near to slide in spilt blood, broken glass.

The pathway ends in a corridor. Completely untouched by war it becomes a place of low modesty and high desire. It is safe. It is peaceful. It is remarkable.

A window spanning ten paces wide outlooks intergalactic space and all its glory. All its truths and lies and stars and moons and suns. Where lightyears away families live and thrive and die because of dictations from powers greater than any man can conceive.

Because that is how the story goes. Life and death. Light and dark. Creation and destruction. The sun, the moon, and their stars. They are all as inevitable as the meeting of dawn and dusk, even if requiring patience and time.

The window is beautiful.

The current effect of his desires, the other, the unknown, her, she stands across the way growing their separation in every step. She doesn’t listen to his pleads to hear, to wait.

“Thank you!” Din calls, a last resort.

She stops.

“I want to thank you. And… not just for saving us but—you held no reason to protect me, to disobey your order. Yet you did. I am indebted to you.”

“You are not,” she responds, quick and modulated.

“I am. I want to be. You saved my son, in my culture it is the highest honor.”

“I don’t care. Leave.”

“Moff Gideon is alive and in our custody. He will be turned over to the New Republic to face trial. I know you battled one of your kind, the one who stole my son and… Where is she?”

“She escaped,” the woman says, hollow. “I could not defeat her.”

“In any case, I give you my word none will speak of you. Gideon will not speak of you. You’ll be free to leave this behind.” He steps forward.

“Don’t,” she warns.

His fist raises over his heart. “Vor entye. If there is any way I can repay my gratitude for your service. I beg you to place it upon me.”

A sharp flighty gasp illicits from the other, shoulders shaking.

“You’re injured,” Din says.

“I’m fine.”

“Let me help you.”

“No need. It will pass.”

He steps again. “Please. The Child possess abilities to heal—” another step, “—it would only take a moment.”

“Mandalorian,” she snaps. The rest clicks in place. “Leave. Now. Please, just leave. Let me be.”

“I can’t do that.”

She turns. “Why?”

Another step.

“You know why,” he whispers. 

“Mandalorian—”

“Don’t do that. You can’t start doing that again. Not now.”

She’s silent. He steps again.

And again.

And again and again until they are met five paces in the middle.

The Child coos.

With careful hands, the Mandalorian reaches forward. He hooks two fingers on either side of the mask, and lifts. The vision is rare yet golden and dulled. Tanned skin, pouted lips, gray eyes. Hair far shorter than last known, dark circles set deep, a growing bruise on the apple of her cheek.

Din takes hold of the zipper at the top of her collar, slow to drag it down to the center of her chest before exposure. He pulls down the cloth of her right shoulder, revealing a lightning tree of white scars. He redresses her without a word.

They stare. The light above flickers.

“How do you do that?” Din asks, looking up.

Lumina says, “I don’t know.”

He looks down again, nodding. “This whole time?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’re… what exactly?”

She shrugs, half hearted. “Good question. I’m not sure.”

“Were you ever gonna tell me?”

“What part?”

He shrugs. “Any of it?”

“Yeah,” she answers, soft. Her eyes grow wet, a slow seeping flood. “Yeah. Before.”

The Child reaches for her, not letting up until he’s pet.

“Grogu’s known of this for a long time now. Since we met really.”

“The hangar?”

“The cantina,” Lumina corrects. “The only reason you were able to win was because he walked in. We sensed another. No matter how I hid, he always knew. I started training him after Ryndellia. Don’t worry, he won’t be anything like me.” He wraps his hand around her finger, shaking. “You have a very special kid,” she mumbles. “I’m so glad to have known him. He’ll grow up to be wonderful, I just know it.” She sniffles, shaking her head. “Now… I want you to remember what I said,” she tells the Child, caressing his face. “Do as you’re told, don’t give your dad too much trouble okay? I need you to be strong and brave and sweet. And know that—that I…” She stops, nodding with pursed lips. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “And I love you. I love you so much Bug. And I hope you never forgive me.”

Grogu responds in the only he knows how, a forward lean, his forehead against hers.

Seeming to say, I love you too.

Love, as Din Djarin decided what now feels like eons ago, comes in ten stages until admittance. Realization of the lack of knowledge of the ever changing galaxy, realization that knowledge will never come, and the acceptance of it. This comes a second time in seeing Lumina. The migraine, the pull of something greater than him, the anger, the hate, it disappears from inside. The glass case shatters and vulnerability escapes.

He should find comfort in helplessness. To know without knowing. And he does. He did then, he does now. It’s macabre and unnecessary and something he’s sure to regret. He wants to give into the growing warmth. He wants warmth again.

Lumina and Grogu pull from another, a tear runs down her cheek which she is quick to wipe away. Her cheeks puff up and blows air out, shaking her head. She’s broken and upset and fragile and bruised and beaten and a liar and angry and hateful and… and kind. And smart. And thoughtful and sweet and selfless and gray and beautiful. Still. Somehow.

He’ll never forget the sight.

The worst already passed, what else could come?

He could humiliate himself, take the opportunity. Take her in his arms. Say he does or doesn’t forgive her. Say he wants to try again, he wants to keep trying. Make new promises, wreck old ones. Tell her everything, make her tell him everything. Forget the betrayal, remember it until scars run so deep they never recover.

He can make sacrifices. Stars know he’s made plenty already. He—she, they are built from it. He’s done it before. He can do it again. He knows this. He wants this.

He shouldn’t.

The last step in his all conclusive deciphering of love is the most obvious. Doing it. Saying it. Telling her, telling himself. Easier in theory. Easier without history or baggage or arrogance. Three little words. Four if he adds her name.

He can’t.

Instead Din asks, “So, what now?”

Lumina answers, “Whatever you want.”

---

Decisions are made quickly with as much rational as they can all muster. Cara agreed to Din’s promise of conveniently leaving Lumina out of any reports. The issue of Gideon is handled by Lumina herself. Din can’t say what exactly she did, placing her hand on his head, meditating. She assured Cara he would remain alive, and he did. No one else asked questions.

Cara would wait aboard with Bo-Katan and Koska—not so proud owners of the almost defunct ship—until the New Republic forces arrive. In the mean time, Fennec took to the laboratory, holding cell, and what Lumina claimed to be her private quarters, destroying everything inside. Din completed the majority of the efforts in Doctor Pershing’s lab in his battle with Gideon.

 During this, Lumina stays with Din and the Child. No words are exchanged, though Din can’t be sure if she and Grogu speak on some subconscious Jedi level. Or, not Jedi level. Either way, there’s no physical contact involving her. She goes as far as to offer placing herself in binders to ease Din’s anxiety.

He denied this request. Comfort would make itself a foreign friend sooner or later, no use in prolonging the inevitable.

Now, after all is said and done, five wait in the ruined hangar, waiting for Boba Fett. Koska discovered an old generator and made quick work of rewiring the energy source.

Personally, Din preferred the dark. He could ignore the blood on the floor this way, and her. The scorch marks on the wall, the tattered and thrown goods and debris.

He can’t help selfishness. He may deserve it after all this time.

Lumina leans against Fennec, now acting as a separation between them. They try to play coy to her weakness, but Fennec has to keep her upright with one hand on her arm and another on her waist. Lumina doesn’t help her case either, wobbling and dizzy.

Bo steps besides Fennec, hands to herself but gaze always cautious.

“It’s a small fucking galaxy,” Bo mutters. Probably to Fennec. Usually to Fennec, but Din couldn’t agree more.

“Have a plan yet?” Fennec asks.

“Not one.”

“Well, if you think of it. You know where to find us.”

“Sure.”

Lumina’s head drops on Fennec’s shoulder, her eyes shut.

“Are you going to tell her?” Bo asks.

“It’s not my place.”

“But you want to.”

“It’s her right. She’ll never find out on her own, you know.”

“I know. Just… keep it that way.”

“For how long?”

“Until you can’t.”

On Boba Fett’s arrival, Lumina falls into him. She becomes boneless. He cradles her like an infant, whispering nothings into the top of her head. He looks to Bo-Katan. They share a nod, silent yet speaking over a thousand words no one quite seems to understand. A thank you. A debt owed is now paid. A debt paid is now owed. It doesn’t really matter. Taking her aboard, Din watches them fade into shadow.

Fennec steps onto the plank next, rifle swung over her shoulder. Pausing at the ships entrance she turns on her heel, looking at Din. Stretching her hand out, she asks:

“Are you coming?”

---

Translations:

Vor entye - Thank you (lit. I accept a debt)

---

CHAPTER 37: Where it Began

TAGLIST: Taglist: @lexloon​ @jay-bel​ @xsadderdazeforeverx​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny​ @hello-th3r3​

[wrathkitty]

Hello! Just binged Short Debts and it's great! Any plans to write more? No pressure but I'm a current federal employee and I am honestly looking for anything to distract me from real life (and anything that is a mix between Star Trek, Mando, and the Good Place feels like it was made for me). 😍

Hi! I’m working on 24, but it’s been slow going. I’ve got a friend who is also a federal employee, and it’s such a train wreck. I’m so sorry you’re having to deal with any of this. I work in public education, and all of us feel really hopeless right now. But knowing my little corner of Ao3 is bringing you some happiness brings me happiness right back. Here’s a snippet from 24…

You’re lying alone in the dark with Tubthumping stuck in your brain, doing your damndest to remember the lyrics, and only half-notice when Din walks in. There is a succession of thuds as helmet, pauldrons, vambraces and chest plate hit the floor, followed by a sigh of exhaustion as he drops heavily into bed beside you. This is routine on days he spends assisting with the heavy lifting. 

Both his arms snake around your waist as he pulls you towards him, curling around you from behind. 

This is also routine. Normally you complain about being used as a body pillow, he mumbles something back in Mando’a that absolutely does not make your heart race, and you both fall asleep. 

Clutching you to his chest and burying his face in your hair is not routine.

Tagging a few friends while I’m at it even though this isn’t an official snippet…

@djarins-cyare

@dindenimchicken

@lokiofstoriesalwaysthemselves

@harriedandharassed

[djarins-cyare]

Never Look Down

✮ MINISERIES MASTERLIST ✮

Summary: Din has been ignoring his crush on Grogu’s babysitter for a while now, with varying degrees of success. But after a misunderstanding leads to some revelations, there’s no denying things any longer. Sometimes you just need to look at things from a different perspective.

Rating: Mature (18+) with a smidge of explicit

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (part 1 - his POV) / Din Djarin x Reader (part 2 - her POV)

Word Count: 13,160

PART 1 - DIN’S EVENING

PART 2 - MAIA’S (YOUR) MORNING

➤ MAIN MASTERLIST

[whxtedreams]

Oath Broken and Soul Bound Masterlist

A WItch Hunter!Din Djarin x OFC!Witch Series

Tales of witch meetings, gruesome and horrific, were used to fan the flames of fear and ensure the harsh punishment and persecution of those accused of witchcraft. The subsequent actions born out of the fear and hatred for witches were far worse than the stories that inspired them. The persecution and killings of those accused of witchcraft were not just ruthless, but often downright brutal.

**Blurb is subject to change until i begin writing**

Astaria Lowell had sworn to never take a life. So when Astaria is staring down at the Kingdom’s deadliest Witch Hunter that she had nearly killed, she must do what she can to save him. Which involved bringing the Hunter into her coven… full of Witches. As his health returned, Astaria realised three things. Din Djarin had not killed her. He was now wanted by the Lords for breaking his oath and she was to be tried as a Witch. They were both set to burn for their crimes. They needed to escape the Lords, but they couldn’t do it alone.

A Witch with forbidden magic. A Witch Hunter turned oath breaker.  A pathological liar nobody trusts. A Dragon Rider without his Dragons. A grieving father with a trigger happy finger.

Five unlikely… friends, all needing a way out of the Kingdom for their own selfish reasons.

One impossible task they might be able to complete if they don’t get each other killed in the process. Or rather, kill each other.

Main Current Tags

WItch Hunter!Din Djarin, OFC!Witch, witch hunts, violence, author has researched but is still learning, forbidden love, Third person POV, fantasy AU, world building, pirate!Ezra, Dragon Rider!Frankie, Joel Miller just wants to be left alone,

Chapter List

word count // 1.8k

Part 1

1. The Hunter // 1.8k

Part 2:

Part 3:

Part 4:

Part 5

Part 6

the one shot that inspired this - The Hunter and His Witch

Other

Character Study

Notes

I am currently in a writers course and this is the story I'm writing for it. I am learning more as I write and may come back and edit things from time to time. The cover is hand drawn, don’t look at me - I tried. I was very hesitant to write an OC! instead of reader insert since I’ve seen a lot of people say they tend not to read them, but you will love Astaria I swear. She’s pretty cool. NOT doing a tag list for this series. If you want updates, you can subscribe to my AO3 and you will get emails when I upload.

[itsjuststardust]

Heaven in Hiding - Chapter 18: Heaven in Hiding

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Chapter Summary: "I push up on my toes you call me sweet thing And breathing down your neck your body's screaming" - Halsey

Word Count: 15,989

Author's Note/Chapter Warnings: Um, I think if I say that this chapter is 🌶️NSFW🌶️ and tell you that it was partially written by a particular smut monster, that will cover the chapter warnings 😈

Chapter/Main title inspired by the song 🎵Heaven in Hiding🎵 by Halsey.

MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY

Chapter 18: Heaven in Hiding

The next day passed in a hazy, sleepy blur. 

The three of them slept off and on for ninety-nine percent of it. The only way he could tell time was passing was that the sun was in a different position every time he opened his eyes. The light from the sun lit the hold in different patterns of light and shadows as it tracked through the sky until it disappeared, bringing the darkness of night with it. The few fleeting minutes they were awake were never at the same time. All Mando knew was one minute, he blinked his eyes open, and Alaina was sprawled on top of his chest, and in the next, he was on his side with his body cocooned around Alaina’s with the kid in some inconvenient position. 

The whole thing was awkward and uncomfortable, but it didn’t matter. He was never awake long enough to move either of them and too exhausted to try. Not to mention… he just didn’t want to.

This continued throughout the day, night, and into the next day until he was awoken by a certain excited toddler banging his helmet.

“Kid,” he groaned, blearily swatting the womp rat away from him. Unfortunately, when the kid was awake, the kid was awake, as demonstrated by his determination to wake him by immediately jumping back on his chest.

“Mmmmm,” Alaina hummed in her sleep as she moved to sprawl over his chest, effectively shoving the kid off him with a quiet oof. When he wrapped a loose arm around her waist to hold her to him, she burrowed her head into his chest and mumbled, “You’re warm.”

A slow, content smile crept across his face as his eyes began to drift close again. He would probably regret sleeping on the floor for so long, but at this very moment, with Alaina’s warm body lying on top of his, he found it difficult to want to be anywhere else.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

With a sigh, his eyes opened to find the kid’s head staring down at him. He must have been standing directly behind his helmet because from this position, the kid was upside down, and the only thing he could see was the kid’s enormous eyes and equally enormous ears looking down into his helmet. “Bah.”

“Okay, okay,” he groused, attempting to get up from the floor.

“It’s early,” Alaina mumbled sleepily, spreading her arms and legs over him to sink her weight into his chest to prevent him from getting up.

“We slept an entire cycle,” he countered, wrapping both arms around her petite frame to hold her against his chest while he sat up. He grimaced at how his back and joints protested after sleeping on the metal floor for over twenty-some-odd hours.

“It’s still early,” she argued, pulling a face at being disturbed but still refusing to open her eyes.

Mando couldn’t argue with that. The sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, bathing the landscape in a warm pink color as it continued to climb into the sky. 

He carried Alaina to her cot, tucked away in the corner, and deposited her there with minimal grumbling. Once on the cot, she immediately buried herself under the blankets and drifted back to sleep.

He watched over her with a tired smile before returning his attention to the kid. “Breakfast?” he asked, voice still thick with sleep. The kid smiled up at him with a large, toothy grin at the question. “Come on,” he said, motioning for the kid to follow.

Mando shuffled around the hold, tidying up the mess they had left from their last dinner while the kid followed him, babbling excitedly. He turned the electric kettle on to heat some water for instant caf and then searched their remaining supplies to scrounge up something to feed them all. Their supplies were slowly dwindling, and while he could hunt to an extent, they couldn’t stay here forever. They’d been here almost three weeks already, and aside from the last time he crashed here, this was the longest stretch of time he’d remained stationary with no job. However, to purchase supplies and rations, one needed credits, which meant he needed to find a job.

For the first time in Din Djarin’s memory, he found himself annoyed that there wasn’t more of an opportunity for downtime.

He sighed as he divided the rest of the yellow berries the kid and Alaina had picked the other day into a couple of bowls. He passed one down to the kid and dropped a protein bar in his lap. The kid squealed and immediately tore into the berries. Mando grabbed the other bowl and added a couple more protein bars before he fixed two cups of instant caf with the hot water and moved to sit next to Alaina’s cot.

He placed Alaina’s cup and the bowl of yellow berries on the floor near her head and leaned back against the wall. He sneaked bites of his protein bar under his helmet, alternating with sips of his caf under his helmet while he continued to consider their options.

The problem was there were plenty of options out there for work. All perfect, under-the-radar (ish) crews who preferred you not to be in the guild as most of their members had a puck out for them. Ranzar Malk still reached out from time to time with jobs, hoping to entice the Mandalorian back to his crew… and if he didn’t have the kid and Alaina with him, he would probably agree to come back. However, he did have others to consider now—others who shouldn’t be exposed to the likes of Malk. Not to mention, there was a high likelihood that Xi’an still ran with his crew, and the thought of Alaina meeting Xi’an was not something he wanted to happen. Ever.

“You think too loud,” Alaina grumbled as she roused herself from the pile of blankets. 

He tensed at her words as the events of the day before slammed back into his mind. His chest filled with air, making him feel like an overinflated balloon. That really happened? Some kind of sorcery linked the three and then were stuck in Alaina’s mind for hours while they tried to figure it out. It wasn’t possible, was it? To hear someone’s thoughts?

He couldn’t help the trepidation from rising. A bond, Alaina had called it. Was that permanent? Was he forever connected to them now? What if everything fell apart? What if he stuck his boot in his mouth again, and Alaina finally came to her senses and left him for good? Would he still be able to feel her from parsecs away? Even just the thought of that made him go cold.

Alaina sniffed and looked down to find the caf and food waiting on the floor for her. “Breakfast in bed,” she hummed appreciatively, giving him a sleepy smile as she grabbed the mug and the bowl of berries. Mando noted she, unsurprisingly, left the protein bar behind on the ground. She moved to sit back against the wall and clutched the warm cup to her chest for a moment before she took a sip of the brown liquid, scrunching her face at the taste, “I miss tea.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t hear my thoughts?” Mando asked, still nervous about whatever happened between the three of them. He was only just getting used to the idea of having them travel with him, but if they could hear his every thought—

“Stop panicking,” Alaina commented, tossing one of the yellow berries at his helmet. “We can’t hear your thoughts. It’s more like we can feel your feelings. I imagine it’s maybe not quite the same for you since you don’t have powers like us.” Mando hummed at her assessment and turned to take a sip of caf from his cup. Alaina tilted her head as she looked between him and the kid, “We should probably figure that out. Might come in handy. Though, I'll warn you, the only thing that has come out of my afternoon meditation sessions with Grogu when we practice raising and lowering our mental shields is learning that most of his feelings involve being hungry.”

He snorted, “Why am I not surprised?”

Alaina studied him while she popped another berry in her mouth, “So, were you panicking about our connection when I woke up, or did something else make you grumpy?”

Mando sighed, “You were right last night—well, whenever that was when you said we can’t stay here forever. We’ve got a week's worth of supplies and rations left, which could probably be stretched out with hunting, but…”

“But it’s time to go,” Alaina finished sadly, popping a berry into her mouth.

“I don’t have a set plan yet, so we won't leave immediately,” Mando told her, and she shrugged. “We’ll come back,” he promised, resting his hand on her thigh, which was still hiding under the blankets.

“Mando?” Alaina questioned and then looked down nervously into her cup of caf. “Not to add to your list of problems, but…” she tapered off with a sigh, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze of her thigh. “On our first night here, you asked if I wanted to go get my mom’s trunk?” she asked, looking hopefully at him.

“You want to go get it?” he guessed.

Alaina nodded, “Mando, if Grogu’s memory was real… Why would she have never told me any of that?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” he answered, taking his hand off her leg to toss her protein bar at her.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. We were so close. I just can’t believe she kept a secret like that from me. I mean, she already showed me her powers. She’s the one who helped me learn mine… I get her not telling me when I was a kid, but she didn’t even say anything when she was on her deathbed.” Alaina stopped to take an angry bite of her protein bar, and Mando stayed quiet to let her work through her thoughts. “She worked in the shops; we lived in a tiny run-down apartment… we were just… ordinary.”

“Yes, just two ordinary women with their witchy powers,” he teased and smiled at Alaina’s eye roll. 

“I just don’t understand why she wouldn’t have told me. We talked about everything. I would have kept her secret. Besides, what would I have done with that information? I was a ballerina.”

“She was probably thinking that if you didn’t know anything, you were less likely to be captured, interrogated, and used against her,” he answered her, his voice severe but quiet.

Alaina’s forehead scrunched as she considered that.

“Do you want my opinion?” he asked with a slight tilt of his helmet. When Alaina nodded, he continued, “If I were to take a guess, I think your mom went into hiding.” Alaina stared blankly at him as she processed that and continued. “Take the facts that you do know: she told you never to reveal your powers to anyone. She could have returned to Naboo, but she didn’t. She picked a highly populated, out-of-the-way planet where she took a simple job that wouldn’t raise any suspicions; she wanted to blend in. We got dumped in at the end of Grogu’s memory, but it’s obvious that the Empire was going after the Jedis, and they were on the run. We know that they are virtually extinct now.” He looked at Alaina and her emerald doe-eyes staring back at him and shrugged. “If I was in your mother’s shoes, that’s what I would have done. But the offer still stands,” he nodded. “If you want to get your trunk, we can go get your trunk.”

Alaina gave a weak smile and nodded. “She used to keep paper diaries. I was one of the only kids who could write with pen and paper for the longest time because she made sure to teach me. She didn’t journal all the time, but a couple of her diaries were in that trunk. Maybe they will have some answers?”

“Maybe,” he answered softly. “But to get there, we need enough fuel and food to get us there. Which means we need credits. Which means I need to find a job.”

Alaina nodded, and he watched as she shoved her feelings down. She shuffled around on the bed to cross her legs to give him her full attention. “So, what are our options?” she asked, taking another sip of caf and grimacing again.

“I have a lead with a crew I used to work with,” he started hesitantly. 

“Why didn’t you just say that?!” Alaina scoffed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “You seemed so gloom and doom about it.”

He sighed and cocked his helmet at her, “Because they’re all criminals who I wouldn’t trust as far as I could throw them. Not to mention that the moment they put the pieces together about you and the kid, they wouldn’t hesitate to throw me out the airlock to take the massive reward on your heads.”

“Ah,” Alaina nodded, “hence the gloom and doom,” she said, grimacing into her cup of instant caf.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to drink it,” Mando grumbled, taking the cup out of her hands to put it on the floor.

“But it’s warm,” she whined, snatching the cup back for another sip. “Bleh.” Mando rolled his eyes at her antics but allowed her to keep her mug. “So, what are you saying? Our options are going back to your old crew and risking you being shoved out of an airlock or starving to death on this moon?”

Mando heaved a sigh, “There’s maybe another possibility…” One that worried him for different reasons. On the one hand, he knew they would be perfectly safe and that Rhoam could be trusted not to turn on them. However, on the other hand… Rhoam was… well, Rhoam. The man was the biggest flirt in the galaxy, and even he could begrudgingly admit the man was attractive. The hoards of women who fawned over him seemed to agree. However, some of that could be because the man was a King. Not to mention, his Chief of Security made him… uncomfortable. “I have someone who owes me a favor. He rules a planet near the border into wild space—”

“I’m sorry. Did you say he rules a planet?” Alaina cut him off and raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Yes.”

Alaina’s mouth dropped open, “Like, he rules the planet like a King?”

“Not like a King. He is the King.”

“And he owes you a favor?” she asked skeptically, still unable to close her mouth.

“Yes,” he answered in a slow exhale, already knowing their answer.

Alaina blinked stoically at him before saying, “So, you’re struggling with picking between a group of thugs or working for a King? I can see why you're struggling so hard to decide between the two,” she deadpanned.

Mando cocked his head at her and snatched her mug out from her hands. “Hey!” she grumbled, but he ignored her as he picked up the rest of their dishes to take to the sink. The kid smiled brightly at him, and Mando chuckled at the yellow stains around his mouth, no doubt from shoving the berries in his mouth as quickly as possible. “Get dressed. We’re going to take advantage of the next couple of days to stretch our legs. You’ve had a couple of days off. We need to get back to training,” he ordered, grabbing the kid’s bowl and dumping everything in the sink to rinse off.

“Actually,” Alaina started and shared a look with the kid before continuing, “we had a suggestion for training today.”

Mando sighed restlessly as he sat in the cockpit in his chair. Now redressed in his flight suit, armor, and a couple of weapons, he tapped his fingers impatiently on the chair’s armrest, eying the timer in the corner of his HUD. He had the chair facing away from the viewport and at the door while he watched the numbers on the timer slowly tick down.

Hide and seek.

He scoffed at her suggestion when she made it and scoffed again, just thinking about it.

“You realize that I’m a bounty hunter, right? I play hide and seek for a living.”

Alaina glared at him and bounced Grogu on her hip. “Okay, but hear me out. The three of us are connected now. We've been given a gift—"

“What good is that going to do if we can’t read each other’s thoughts?”

“But you can still feel us!" she argued. "The only reason why Grogu and I have any kind of advantage is that we have powers already. You don’t. It makes you… quieter, muted, but you’re still there.”

“And a game of hide and seek will teach me how to feel you?”

"Do you have another idea?" Alaina shrugged. “You give us an hour head start before you come looking for us. After an hour, you can only use the senses you have, old and new. No fancy tricks from the helmet,” she said, tapping the beskar helm on his head. 

He simply stared at her, trying to figure out what the point was. He didn’t understand what Alaina or the kid felt; he just felt something… warm.

“Please?” Alaina pleaded, blinking up at him with those damned eyes. “Mando, you’re so worried about us getting hurt and traveling with you, but what if you could feel us like we can you? What if we can teach you? Think about what it would be like to feel if we’re happy or sad or injured?”

“Or if the womp rat is hungry,” he countered sarcastically.

“I’m being serious!” Alaina growled and swatted at his chest. “What if we’re in a scenario where we’re all separated, and the only way to find each other is by following the little string that connects us?”

Mando found it hard to argue with that logic. 

“What? Scared you’ll lose, Mandalorian?” Alaina challenged, smirking at him while she wagged her eyebrows, enticing him to take her dare.

“You’re on.”

Unfortunately, after fifty-seven minutes of thinking about it, he felt like an idiot for agreeing to this.

An hour headstart… There was no telling how far they could get in an hour. The woods were dense and a good hiding place, but they could hide just as easily in the lavender field. The only thing he could use was his eyes and… witchcraft. Mando let his helmet fall back against the chair at that thought. Now, he regretted agreeing to be the bloodhound, all in the name of Alaina’s research.

The timer inside his helmet finally went off, and Mando leaped out of his chair, jumping at the bit to get started. He bypassed the ladder altogether by dropping down into the hold and immediately stomped to the ramp to assess the situation.

Right off the bat, he noticed prints in the mud. The rain and storms had softened the ground enough for Alaina's boots to leave visible prints. He rolled his eyes. He respected Alaina’s idea, but this would be child’s play.

He followed the set of prints as they walked away from the Crest and headed toward the forest. At the forest’s edge, he paused and looked at the ground with a frown. 

A set of tracks went into the forest, but another set turned left and walked down the perimeter of the tree line. He turned left, following the bootprints that walked along the tree line until they turned left again, half a click away from the Crest. His hunt continued to take him in one giant loop around the Crest, and he discovered that in addition to the path that deviated into the woods, there was another one that went in the direction of the lake and another that continued through the lavender plains, heading toward the mountains in the far distance.

He smirked when the loop led him back to the clearing where the Crest was parked. She knew that he would go with his senses he knew first, and when she saw her boots left distinct tracks in the mud, she must have decided to change her plan.

“Clever girl,” he murmured, congratulating Alaina on her ingenuity. 

He looked at the timer running in his helmet and saw that almost twenty minutes had passed. Alaina had an hour head start, so the faux paths she made couldn’t go very far before she finally had to pick one to take. He immediately ruled out the one in the lavender plains that headed toward the mountain range. They’d never explored that far out, and even with the tall purple grass, there weren’t enough places to hide along the way. Besides, the range was far enough away that it would take the rest of the daylight hours to make it there. So that left the woods or the lake.

To him, the woods, with its numerous blackened trees, seemed like the obvious place to hide. The trees alone could provide plenty of shelter, and there were enough roots and vegetation that she could hide her bootprints… but this was Alaina he was tracking. Alaina didn’t like the dark and always refused to go hunting in the forest with him because it gave her “the creeps.” Of course, she could have headed into the forest to throw him… but when he looked between the forest and the emerald green lake, he couldn’t explain it, but something tugged him toward the water.

He started toward the lake and analyzed the slight glow of warmth that began to radiate in his chest. Was that what Alaina was describing? Was he just supposed to follow that feeling blindly? He looked back at the forest, and the small ball of warmth faded away completely.

Mando turned to stare at the lake, and the feeling changed slightly. The small ball of warmth returned, but there was something else there.

“We can’t hear your thoughts. It’s more like we can feel your feelings.”

Smugness. That’s what he was feeling—a slight undercurrent of smugness.

Alaina was somewhere where she could see him struggling over which direction to take, and wherever she was, she was apparently feeling quite proud of herself.

His lips curled at the challenge. “We’ll see how smug you are after I find you, Tranyc,” he murmured to himself, hoping she could feel him coming for her.

He stalked off toward the lake. He walked parallel to her tracks but only spared them half a thought. Alaina could fake her steps or cover her tracks, but she couldn’t cover her feelings. 

Mando concentrated on that little golden rope of warmth tugging in his chest, and he put aside everything he’d been taught about tracking to instead rely on a bit of sorcery to lead him to his targets. It felt as if the cord in his chest was now something tangible—something real and warm he could physically hold in his hands, even though that wasn’t the case. At all.

When he reached the lake, he stopped to analyze the shoreline and surrounding areas, trying to determine where she and the kid might be hiding. He could feel a tug of disapproval from the other end of their shared rope, and at first, he thought it was disapproval because he’d found their hiding spot already, but it tugged again as if telling him he was wrong. If she wasn’t disapproving of him finding them, then what—

Realization dawned on him. She could only see him looking for them and likely thought he was going against the rules and using the bonus features in his helmet to help track them down. “I’m not cheating, Tranyc,” he murmured.

When the feeling didn’t change, he grumbled in embarrassment, feeling like an idiot standing in the middle of the black-pebbled beach with his eyes closed. But if they were going to learn to use this little gift, he supposed they should figure out precisely what they could and could not do.

Mando grabbed onto the warm golden string and tugged back. The rope flashed hot in excitement; this time, he felt the kid’s excitement entwined with Alaina’s. 

His eyes snapped open, and his head snapped a distant spot on the shoreline to his right. If someone were to ask him how he knew they were there, he couldn’t tell them how he knew. He just knew. “Gotcha,” he growled. His confident grin grew when he felt Alaina and the kid try to shield their emotions. Grogu was evidently better at it than Alaina because the kid faded away entirely, but he could still feel a trace of Alaina. “Nice try, you two, but I’ve got you now,” he said as he took off down the shoreline.

He prowled the pebbled shore, looking around the rocks and bushes that lined it in search of his two companions.  The water from the lake washed away any evidence of her trail, so he was left to look for other signs (hand prints on rocks, broken vegetation, or another set of tracks) for where they were. When he reached the same rocky platform he jumped off with Alaina, he climbed up the black rock for a higher vantage point.

Mando reluctantly admitted that he was enjoying himself. His initial assessment of Alaina’s little training exercise was wrong. This was different. Exciting. And, if he was honest, it was a little bit of a turn-on. He could almost feel the same undercurrent of anticipation coming from Alaina. It was muted and subtle, but it was there. He practiced tugging on the cord that now bonded them together. He almost couldn't feel anything if he didn’t concentrate on it. He had to focus on it. It was strange. Bizarre even. He was his own self… but… he wasn’t alone. 

Not only was he learning how to harness his companions' magic, but he was also learning that Alaina was an adept hider. That was promising for their future training exercises because as much as Mando needed her to be able to defend herself, sometimes, it was better to learn how to hide.

He smirked when he felt Alaina’s shield slip, and he tugged at the cord but didn’t get an answer. 

“You did good using your bootprints to your advantage back there,” he paused to nod toward the ship. “That was smart. I like it when you show me how clever you are.” He felt a soft warmth through their connection. It reminded him of when Alaina blushed. Soft and delicate, but still there. He smirked when he realized his words embarrassed her. “You like feeling me be proud of you?” he asked to nothing but raised his voice loud enough that he hoped Alaina could hear his question from wherever she was.

The only response he got was that soft, warm feeling in his chest flare, alighting hotter. She was either embarrassed to admit anything or trying too hard to conceal herself, which meant she was nearby.

Mando focused on the landscape around him, looking for any clues. “I am, you know?” he yelled again, looking for even the slightest stalk of grass to shake. “Proud of you,” he continued, eyes landing on a dense bush beside a tree across from him. “Always proud of you, Tranyc,” he purred as he jumped down from his platform.

His chest flashed hot at his words, and he knew he was close. They had to be hiding here somewhere. From this vantage point, Alaina could have seen him back at the Crest and on the shoreline, and if he could feel her embarrassment, then he was close enough that she could hear him even when he didn’t yell.

Mando lunged for the dense shrub in front of him. “Got—” he cut himself off when he only found a bright purple lizard that scurried away when he moved the branches away. Damn, he’d be sure they were hiding—

The sound of a rock falling made him spin to look behind him, but he didn’t see anything out of place. 

He couldn’t see anything out of place, but he definitely felt the kid’s amusement. He smirked and hunched over to take a ridiculously huge step as he hunched over, stretching his hands out. “Alright, you womp rat,” he called out, hoping to get a giggle out of the kid.

His eyes flicked in every direction while he tried to feel where they were through their connection, but it was quiet.

His chest rumbled from his quiet growl of frustration. They were toying with him. They were taking advantage of the fact that he didn’t know how to work their newfound connection, that he couldn’t shield his emotions from them, and were toying with him. Oh, he was so going to get them back. 

The sound of the lake lapping against the shore in the distance was the only thing he could hear. He was sure they were here, but maybe they were watching him on the other side of the lake. Hell, for all he knew, they could be hiding in the forest, laughing as loud as they wanted because he couldn’t hear them. Mando shook his head and sighed. The wind blew, rustling the leaves in the tree behind him, and he moved to straighten up and start his search over—

Something heavy dropped from the tree and landed on his shoulders, sending him toppling forward. His gloved hands frantically patted at his neck at the feeling of something, or someone, rather, locking their legs around his neck. It was too late, though. Mando couldn’t keep from toppling face-first into the ground. In a last-minute twist, Mando watched Alaina through his helmet, lean forward, and tuck in before letting out a loud scream as she used their forward momentum to flip him over her. She kept her legs locked around his neck the entire time, following him through the summersault and refusing to let go even after their backs simultaneously crashed into the ground.

“Gotcha,” Alaina panted on the ground above him. She briefly tightened her legs around his neck one more time before releasing him and resting her feet on top of his shoulders.

Fuck, she got him, alright. 

Not to be outdone by a ballerina, Mando latched onto her ankles and rolled them both onto their stomachs. He tried to pull her back to him, but she kicked back sharply with her left foot, breaking free of his grasp. She tried to push off the ground, but when that wasn’t successful, she rolled over onto her back. He didn’t need to ask if she was okay. He could feel it. There was no doubt, fear, or flashbacks in her emerald eyes. There was just determination staring back at him.

It was fucking sexy.

She smirked at him and used her free leg to kick at his helmet, but he grabbed it quickly and used his hands to tug her under him. Mando used his larger frame to box her in with his elbows and knees before he leaned down to whisper, “What was that, Tranyc?” next to her ear.

He looked down at Alaina panting under him. She had to be getting stronger than he realized if she had been able to pull a move like that off with him in full armor. Mando couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate her. Her blonde hair was braided back, but pieces had come undone in the scuffle, giving her a manic, wild look. Her cheeks were flushed a shade of pink that matched her parted lips. His eyes couldn’t help but continue their inspection, taking a moment to appreciate the tight black top that hugged her curves and noted with an evil smirk that he could make out her pebbled nipples straining against the top, and then had to immediately bite down on his bottom lip to keep from groaning when he realized she wasn’t wearing her breastband under her shirt. Fuck. He could just slip his hands under and—

“My eyes are up here,” she teased, returning his attention to her smiling face. “Ready to admit you lost, Mandalorian?” she whispered, giving him a smoldering look.

“From my vantage point, I think I’m the winner,” he purred back, but his eyes pulled back down to her chest, still heaving as she tried to catch her breath, allowing him to admire her soft curves. He was so distracted he missed the sly smile stretch across her face, and his entire body shuddered when he felt her hands come to rest on his sides as her delicate fingers worked their way to the tender places on the sides of his chest that weren’t protected by armor.

“You forgot one very important thing,” she whispered under him. 

Mando gave her a lazy hum as an answer, enjoying the feeling of her hands stroking his sides. He’d long lost the fight to keep his attraction hidden, and having Alaina panting and heaving under him was the final nail in the coffin for him. He fully intended to ensure she knew he didn’t forget a thing. Especially when the last time they had been on the verge of something, it had ended so spectacularly.

Alaina’s fingers dug into his ribs, and the Mandalorian was once again brought out of his daydreams and back to reality when his body shuddered for an entirely different reason. He couldn’t hold the surprised bark of laughter that escaped him. She used his moment of shock to double down on her actions and then used her hands to roll them so that he was now on his back, and Alaina sat on his stomach, trapping his torso between her thighs. “You’re ticklish,” she told him, grinning as her fingers dug into his sensitive ribs.

Mando laughed and grabbed her wrists to pull her hands off his chest. “I can fight dirty, too, Tranyc,” he threatened. Alaina’s serious mask broke, and she began giggling and weakly keeping his hands away from her as he tried to return the favor. After a moment of playful struggling, he decided enough was enough and slowly rose from the ground. Alaina’s body slid down as she lost the fight with gravity until she landed on his lap with her center directly over his awaiting, eager bulge, straining through his trousers to find her warmth. He gripped her hips tightly in his hands, appreciating the way her pink blush now flushed down her neck and across her chest. “But my way of fighting dirty is a little different than yours, sweet thing,” he murmured, using his hands to grind her over where he desired her.

Alaina’s mouth fell open in a soft ‘O’ shape as she sucked in a quiet gasp of pleasure.

“Ready to admit defeat?” he murmured, moving his helmet to gently nuzzle her cheek, smiling when Alaina's arms wrapped around his neck to hold him—

“Patu!”

The adults blinked before they realized they’d forgotten one very important thing.

“We have a kid,” Alaina whispered as Mando’s helmet dropped to the top of her shoulder in defeat, and she gave him a friendly pat on his shoulder. 

Mando stiffened as a thought occurred to him… “Tell me that when you say that we can feel each other, the kid can’t…” he faded off, not even wanting to speak it.

Alaina let out a surprised snort and gripped him tightly as she laughed into his neck. “Um, honestly, I hadn’t thought about that, but um,” she paused to smile at the kid trying to scale his armor. “But his mental walls are stronger than mine, so I think we’re just gonna have to hope that he knows what to tune out?” she finished, sounding more like she was asking him a question instead of answering his.

Mando groaned and gently banged his helmet against her shoulder.

Alaina’s sweet giggling continued as she hugged his neck. “Look at the bright side. Most couples have to go through this long, arduous process of courting and getting to learn about each other and their bodies… and we… we get to skip all that and go straight to being the boring married couple with a kid.”

“Kriff,” he muttered, frustrated in more ways than one, and, taking a page from Alaina's book, collapsed dramatically to his back. The kid took advantage of his new prone position to bang excitedly on his helmet.

“Come on, little one,” Alaina chuckled, grabbing the kid before he could slap his helmet again and got up to head back to the Razor Crest.

With a deep, calming breath, Mando shoved down the urge to toss the tiny green cock block into the lake and climbed to his feet.

The kid looked back at him over Alaina’s shoulder and squealed excitedly. Mando looked the kid in the eyes before sending a very irritated message to the toddler down their new form of communication. The kid’s ears perked up at the wave of irritation directed toward him from the Mandalorian, and he tried to give him a sweet, innocent smile. Mando shook his head. The womp rat would have to nap at some point and the moment that happened…

Mando stopped walking to blink in disbelief as the kid was being carried away and jogged to catch up with them.

“What are you doing?” Mando scolded Alaina as he caught up to them. He plucked the kid from her arms and placed him on the ground. When the kid turned his excited squeal on one of the nearby, unsuspecting purple lizards and chased after it, Mando looked smugly down at Alaina. “He has energy he needs to burn off,” he defended.

Alaina smirked and shook her head at him, but her cheeks flushed at the implications. When she turned to follow after the kid, Mando reached out and shoved his fingers down the small space of her waistband where it didn’t quite touch her back and yanked her back into him. “And just so we’re clear, the second the womp rat closes his eyes, I will be asking you to demonstrate that flexibility you teased about on Sorgan, so I’d start stretching when we make it back to the Crest,” he said darkly, pushing his hips into her lower back so she could feel his rigid desperation.

She leaned back into him and looped her arms around his neck before saying, “You know, some stretches require a partner.”

He bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes to keep his moan to himself, and for the first time since taking the Creed, he wondered if, instead of dying in battle, it would be a former ballerina who did him in.

After damn near six hours, the kid was still going strong. 

They had spent three hours exploring around the lake, giving the kid ample room to run and explore. They stopped near the water several times so the kid could watch (and try to catch) small schools of neon pink and orange fish. At one of their fish observation stops, Mando turned to check on Alaina, only to find her with one foot propped up on top of a rock with her body leaning over her outstretched leg. The karking temptress had the nerve to smirk at him while she stretched. “What?” she asked, blinking at him innocently before she lost the battle, and he saw the teasing tip of her pink tongue peek out from between her teeth. Mando could only growl and direct the kid to keep moving, hoping they would wear him out sooner rather than later.

By the time they returned to the clearing where the Crest was, the kid still showed no signs of slowing down. They spent another couple of hours with him, taking turns with the womp rat to keep him engaged in something. Alaina started one of their magic lessons, stating that when the kid has to use his powers, it usually drains him… However, after an hour of watching the kid float and play with the damned silver ball from cock pit, Mando snatched the object out of the air and grabbed the kid. 

If physical and mental activity wouldn’t work, then he was going to bore the kid to death.

Mando walked the kid around the hull of the Crest, pointing out every possible unique fact that he could. From the wing flaps to stories about how he got each scorch mark and nick from various battles. It didn't matter how soft or monotone Mando spoke; the kid just soaked in the attention.

Eventually, Mando was so wound up that Alaina took pity on him. “Why don’t you go hunt or something?” she suggested with a friendly pat on his shoulder. “We can dry whatever we don’t eat to add to our stores once we leave. Help give us a little buffer with our rations, yeah?”

“Fine,” he gruffed and stomped back in the Crest to grab his hunting supplies, ignoring Alaina’s smile. “But he doesn’t stop moving, and don’t you dare let him close his eyes until I get back,” he ordered with a threatening point.

“Yes, sir,” Alaina all but purred, and Mando spun away from her to head into the forest before he combusted right there.

Half an hour into his hunt, his mind and body finally calmed down enough for him to pay attention to the task at hand.

Mando used the time tracking to mentally plan their next few days, letting the more mundane plans help calm him down. He'd need to send a message to Rhoam soon to call in his favor and hope that the man's Chief of Security wouldn't block his attempts at finding refuge. Then there were the travel logistics. He could already guess it would take both companions time to adjust to life on the Crest again. Going from weeks of having all the room they could want to being confined to the Crest would take some adjusting to. Leaving at night would at least shorten the two days of travel to Rhoam’s planet. Enjoy what was left of today and tonight. Let the kid burn some energy off during the daylight tomorrow while they start packing and securing their belongings for takeoff. 

As his mental checklist for takeoff continued, Mando found himself unable to stop smiling at his visions of what life would be like with Alaina and Grogu. It was then that Alaina’s words from earlier suddenly struck him. “Look at the bright side. Most couples have to go through this long, arduous process of courting and getting to learn about each other and their bodies… and we… we get to skip all that and go straight to being the boring married couple with a kid.”

Mando froze as her words played on a loop inside his mind, utterly unaware of the rabbit right in front of him. Is that how she saw them? As a family?

He’d had a family before. He’d had a clan before… He’d already secretly come around to the idea that the three of them were a strange little clan. Still, something about admitting that he and Alaina were in a relationship and Grogu was theirs absolutely terrified him.

They had feelings for one another. Obviously. 

And, yes, there was a kid involved… but… 

Married? Married was a word that he had removed from his personal vocabulary. That was permanent. That was… love. A word that he only associated with his parents. Their love for him—Their love for each other… Besides, it had only been a handful of months since he'd rescued them from Nevarro. That was too soon, right? Before they'd become stuck in Alaina's mind, before everything blew up in his face so spectacularly, Alaina had told him she wanted to be his partner. She'd also said she wanted to be his lover, but she'd said partner.

His mind reluctantly reminded him that the Mando'a word for partner, riduur, like several words in the language, had several meanings. Not only was riduur used for partner, but it was also more commonly associated with a spouse. Partners appealed to him more, only because he could somewhat detach himself. He could detach himself for the day when Alaina no longer wanted to live his nomadic lifestyle. He could detach himself for when Alaina realized she deserved more than him—

The cord in his chest warmed, and if he closed his eyes, Mando could almost imagine that Alaina was here with him in the woods, placing a comforting hand on his chest to chase away his spiraling thoughts.

Maker, he was easily five clicks away from the Crest, and Alaina felt him. That was impressive—a little alarming considering his previous thoughts, but nonetheless impressive.

Her attempt to calm him only worked momentarily because what was he doing? He was out of his depths. He had feelings, strong feelings, for her but love... 

His mind flashed with memories of their last few months together. Of their day together at the lake. Of dinners in front of the fire. Taking turns playing with the kid. He could still easily recall how dull and defeated her green eyes were when he found her in the Imp’s compound months ago, and compared to the full, sparkling emerald green gems they were now when she looked at him, it was almost difficult to believe that they had made it here.

Who was he kidding? Being a part of a clan before was one thing… but actually having one of his own? He didn’t know how to handle that. He couldn’t remember what it was like to love someone, so how was he supposed to be able to love Alaina or Grogu?

Maybe it was because he saw his parents for the first time in almost thirty years or because he was able to physically hug his mother, but it was like the floodgates had opened, and memories from his past came rising up like the tide.

Older memories began filtering through new ones. One of his parents smiling and laughing together at the dinner table, followed by a memory of Alaina sitting next to him in front of the fire and leaning into his shoulder as she laughed over a story he told her about tracking down an old quarry. There was another memory of his father shushing him to be quiet in their darkened home as his mother walked through the door after closing the bakery. When his mother turned the lights on, they jumped out from their hiding spots, surprising her… it was... her birthday, he thought. He could still remember the look in his mother’s eyes when she opened them after his father spun her around the room and stopped, dipping her backward and giving her a searing kiss. That memory was followed by Alaina’s emerald eyes sparkling as she laughed when they breached the lake’s green waters after Mando jumped in with her in his arms. There was one final memory of him crawling into bed between his parents after he’d been startled awake by a storm in the night, followed by a more recent memory. A memory of him and Alaina sleeping in the alcove on the Crest with Grogu nestled comfortably between them.

And then he remembered what had happened when they were bizarrely stuck inside Alaina's mind. He'd never forget those bottomless black pools that took over her eyes, but she had been trying to tell him something.

“The foundation is constructed by four pillars,” Alaina said. “The pillars are linked together, bound by the strongest substance in the galaxy. Because of that, this room remains standing,” she murmured.

Mando let go of Alaina, keeping Grogu in his free hand. Alaina’s black eyes stared into space, and the kid stared at him with a massive smile as if he knew the answer to his unasked question. With a sigh, he looked back to Alaina to find her black eyes fixed on his helmet, patiently waiting for him to ask his question. “What is that strong?”

Alaina’s hand came to rest in the center of his chest, and both she and the kid were looking back at him with black eyes and smiles.

“Love,” she whispered. Mando scrunched his face in confusion at her answer. “Love is the foundation.”

Mando’s eyes snapped open as a cold gust of wind blew through the trees, and he looked up to see dark clouds signaling another storm creeping over the treetops.

“Your family is beautiful,” his mother whispered in his ear. “Are you happy?”

He returned the hug, savoring the gift he’d been given. “Yes,” he whispered with a smile.

His stolen moment in time with his parents… It was meant to remind him that he remembered what it was like to see two people in love. It was to remind him that he knew what love was because he had witnessed true love firsthand as a child.

Mando turned and sprinted through the forest's trees, their black glittering trunks, as he headed back toward the Crest.

Their stories had been interlinked and woven from the beginning. With their bond, memories may have floated through, but what if it was meant to show him something else?

What if Alaina's subconscious tried to show him they were her foundation? Her mother, the kid, him... that they'd kept her from cracking and crumbling apart when she had every right not to be here. What if she was trying to show him that he didn't need to be scared because she had already accepted him as an integral part of who she was?

Oh, he was an idiot. Here he was, agonizing over him not being enough for her, not being able to love her, not knowing how to be a family when her black-eyed alter ego had proved him so spectacularly wrong. Her subconscious opened him up to show him that he was a part of her foundation. She showed him that she had accepted his past, their past, as a piece of herself and that the love of her mother, combined with Grogu's love and his love, somehow held her together.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and he was taken back to that night when she'd forced him out in the karking rain to force him to see the world how she did. She'd been right; it was beautiful but didn't compare to her beauty. It didn't compare to how the lightning highlighted the rain on her face, making her appear ethereal. 

"I'm not going anywhere," she told him, and he thought his heart would swell and burst right there in the middle of the storm.

“I want to be your partner. I want to be your friend… I want to be your lover,” she rasped, pulling his head down to capture his lips in another searing kiss. “I don’t want to be locked away in the closet whenever you leave the ship. If you want me to stay, we’re in this together.”

“Look at the bright side. Most couples have to go through this long, arduous process of courting and getting to learn about each other and their bodies… and we… we get to skip all that and go straight to being the boring married couple with a kid.”

If he was going to do this with her—with them—then he didn’t want to miss a thing. He didn’t want to skip over anything—not with Alaina or the kid. He’d already lost five years with Alaina over his poor communication skills and Alaina’s tendency to be rash in her decisions. He didn’t want to lose another second.

He shot out of the tree line and ignored the burning of his lungs as he looked frantically for his family in the silver grass clearing, but they weren’t to be found. He wasn’t worried. He could feel them. They were here somewhere—

“Hey,” Alaina greeted as she and Grogu rounded the Crest. She even had the kid on the ground, forcing him to walk—shuffle—next to her, each with a basket in hand. “We decided to go do some berry picking,” she explained, holding her basket to show him. “Is everything okay? We came back because you felt off. Did you get hurt?”

Mando shook his head as he crossed the clearing to greet them.

Alaina’s face scrunched in confusion as she studied him. “You struck out then? All the rabbits finally caught on to your hunting habits?” she asked, commenting on the lack of game he returned with. “Or did they form some kind of alliance, and it became the hunter being the hunted type situation?” came her weak joke as she tried to figure out what was wrong when he remained silent.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered, out of breath, as he approached her.

“Wait, what? Why?” she asked him, placing her basket on the ground. "What's wrong?"

“Alaina, close your eyes,” he ordered again, dropping his voice to a more intimidating octave. His hands came up to his neck, and he started to untuck his cloak from his breastplate. He came to a stop in front of her and cocked his helmet when she still didn’t close her eyes.

“Mando—”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his helmet at her. “Alaina Corra, close your eyes. Please,” he added at the end.

Alaina’s emerald eyes studied him, and her uncertainty and concern grew when he finally freed his cloak and let it fall to the ground, covering the kid. Grogu squawked at suddenly being covered and struggled to free himself from under the wool cloak. She looked between the blanket-covered toddler and him and gave him one final skeptical look before she finally closed her eyes.

“I’m trusting you to keep them closed for me, Tranyc. Can you do that for me?” he murmured as he came toe to toe with her.

Alaina nodded, “But, Mando—”

“Use my name,” he interrupted her, lifting his helmet over his head.

Alaina stilled, and even without the added audio amplifiers inside his helmet, he could hear her quiet gasp of surprise. Mando watched her, greedily taking in how she looked in the daylight. Even with the sudden pop-up spring storm looming around them, the sun's last rays still managed to find her bright honey-blonde hair and make it shine.

“Djarin,” came her nervous whisper.

He crashed his lips into hers at the sound of his name leaving them. It had been so long since he had heard his name come from someone else, and never had he heard it as sweet as hers.

He’d never understood the appeal of kissing someone before, but after that night in the rain… he understood why people kissed. He poured every ounce of feelings he didn’t have words for into that kiss, hoping she understood everything he was trying to tell her. When he felt her loop her arms around his neck, he took the hand holding his helmet to wrap around her waist and buried the other in the back of her hair, holding her tightly to him. 

Alaina’s fingers wound in his overgrown curls at the base of his neck and tugged.

With her in position, he arched her back in a clumsy, awkward dip as he chased after her lips. Alaina released a surprise gasp against his lips but clenched her eyes tighter, and he rewarded her with another kiss. When he couldn’t take her any further without toppling them both over, he stopped and broke the kiss to murmur against her lips, “My name is Din Djarin.” He leaned back in for a gentle kiss and then pulled away again. “And we can be the boring married couple with a kid, but I’m not skipping over anything,” he whispered, biting her lip. “Not with you, Alaina Corra.”

With one last kiss, he got them upright, slowly placing his helmet back over his head as the rose.

Alaina stood there in a daze with her eyes closed. The kid was still by their feet, struggling to escape under his cloak.

“Din Djarin,” Alaina whispered with a whimsical smile plastered across her face.

“You can open your eyes, ya know,” he told her, bumping his beskar cover forehead against hers.

Alaina’s smile broadened as she bit down on her bottom lip and shook her head. “Din Djarin, kiss me,” she whispered, holding on to the top of his chestpiece.

Din Djarin’s smile overtook his face, and he tipped his helmet up to oblige the lady’s request. He could feel Alaina’s smile as large as his own against his lips.

The kid picked that moment to finally free himself and let out a series of disgruntled spitting noises, explaining in great detail how he felt about being left out of whatever the adults were doing. Alaina giggled at the sound, and with one last kiss, she let him go.

Thunder rumbled nearby as the clouds continued to gather, but Alaina stood there swaying slightly in the wind with her eyes closed in a daze.

When her emerald eyes finally opened to look at him, Din Djarin hoped that someday, he could look at them without the barrier between them. Without his helmet. He wanted to look at her eyes with his own.

“Come on, Tin Man,” Alaina whispered, with her smile still firmly plastered across her face. “Let’s go inside before you melt,” she smirked and nodded at the Crest. 

He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts and Alaina that he only now realized it was starting to rain. He watched her saunter back to the Crest with a shining smile still gracing her face and called after her, “Hey! You can use my name, you know?”

Alaina stopped at the foot of the ramp and turned back to give him a devilish smile that reignited a fire inside his chest before she said, “I intend to,” and turned back to enter the Crest. 

Dank farrik.

The kid chirped from his spot, still half buried under his cloak, and held his hands up to be picked up.

He bent over to grab the kid, his cloak in one arm and their full baskets of yellow berries in the other and shook his head at the kid. “Kid—Grogu,” he started, and the kid’s ears perked up excited by the use of his name. “My name is Din Djarin, and you have to cut me a break.”

The spring storm that forced them inside was much more intense than the last storm. The wind howled while rain and hail pelted against the ship's hull, all while the background noise of thunder rumbling sounded like it rarely stopped. He tried to leave the ramp open to let Alaina enjoy the storm for as long as possible, but when the wind started blowing the rain inside the hull, even Alaina told him to close up the ship.

“Bah!” Grogu yelled, waving his silver ball in the air.

The Mandalorian couldn’t remember the last time he admitted defeat, but sitting slumped on the floor of his own ship, back propped up against the wall, with the kid playing between the open ‘V’ of his legs, Din Djarin threw in the towel.

"I thought we decided you were going to cut me a break," he grumbled as he plucked the ball from the kid’s hands and tossed it down the hold. The kid giggled and squealed as if this wasn’t the hundredth time they’d done this and scrambled over his leg to go after the tiny beskar ball.

“You’re never getting that back,” Alaina teased.

His head swiveled to find Alaina exiting the fresher, scrunching the excess water from her hair with a towel. She’d changed out of her training clothes into his old tunic, and he quietly grumbled when he felt the kid crawl back over his leg to wave the ball in front of him again.

“You know,” she continued, and he could hear the smirk in her voice as she approached, “glaring at him won’t make him fall asleep any faster. We slept for over twenty hours. We’ll be lucky if he ever goes to sleep again.”

He exhaled an annoyed sigh and let his helmet fall back against the wall in defeat.

“Come on, little one,” Alaina cooed at the smiling toddler. “How about something to eat?” she asked, receiving an excited sputtering noise from the tiny goblin in response, and picked him up to hold him to her hip. “We’ll be up top, so you have the place to yourself for a bit,” she told him, her voice soft and sweet as she passed him, gracing him with an eyeful of her bare legs.

He watched her climb up the ladder to the cockpit, nodding and agreeing along to the kid’s excited babbles as if she understood every word he was saying. Probably why the kid liked her so much; she treated him like she would anyone else. Honestly, it was one of the reasons he liked her so much. It didn’t matter if you were a shrimping villager from a backwater skughole, a former Drop Trooper, a fifty-year-old green alien toddler, or covered head to toe in beskar. Alaina saw you for who you were.

Once he heard the cockpit door close, he forced himself to get off the floor and head to the fresher to clean up. He grabbed his sweats on the way in and began dismantling his armor piece by piece once he closed the fresher door to give him some privacy.

He stared at his reflection in the tiny mirror and frowned at how overgrown his hair and beard had gotten. Leaning closer to the mirror, his frown deepened when he noticed that more and more grays were starting to creep in. He shook his head as he splashed some water on his face and reached for his razor to tidy the scruff along his jaw. Since rescuing Alaina and the kid, he’d let his regular grooming habits fall by the wayside, and if his hair or beard grew any longer, it would become even more of an annoyance under his helmet than it already was.

Once the beard was gone and his mustache had been trimmed to a more respectable length, he took the scissors to cut his hair. He hated this the most. It always came out choppy and uneven when he did it. A not entirely unwanted image of Alaina trimming his hair for him flashed, and he had to push it away before he let him get too far ahead of himself. He stepped into the shower, turned the water on to rinse off the stray hairs and stubble, and stood under the warm spray, wondering why he had never bothered to replace the broken heating coil when it went out years ago.

His eyes opened at the feeling of the cord inside his chest glowing. When he concentrated on the feeling, he could tell that Alaina was feeling very smug about the fact that he was enjoying the warm shower. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the bar of soap to finish cleaning up. Even with the warm water, he was never one to shower long, and he was eager to join his companions to watch the rest of the storm from the cockpit.

Now, if a certain blonde, witchy, former ballerina decided to join him sometime…

He laughed when he felt their bond flush in embarrassment.

“Serves you right for spying, Tranyc,” he said to himself, returning to finish his shower.

He caught himself smiling like an idiot. Again. Only he doesn’t care. For the first time in months, maybe even years, things felt like they were how they were supposed to be. 

At least, he did think that until the lights went out.

He blinked in surprise in the pitch-black fresher, listening to the few functioning systems on the Crest as they systematically powered down one by one until even the shower slowed to a trickle before it eventually stopped altogether.

“Kriff,” he cursed, noting that his normal speaking voice echoed around the small room loudly without the background ambient noise of the Razor Crest.

Just one moment of happiness? Was that too much to ask for? Just one moment for them to enjoy themselves and be happy without some catastrophe happening.

He blindly patted his hand along the wall looking for the door and cursed when he stubbed his toe on the pile of beskar lying on the floor. “Come on,” he growled when the door wouldn’t even open from the lack of power.

The list of possibilities ran through his mind for the power loss as he worked to shimmy the door open. The storm was brutal, so a lightning strike was high up there, which would be extremely unfortunate, given that his repair tools were limited and the moon was uninhabited. Of course, there was always the possibility that some unknown threat had cut the power. Just because the moon was uninhibited didn’t mean he was the only person in the entire galaxy who’d ever been here. There was a chance that they weren’t alone.

That thought only renewed his determination to pry the door open and ensure Alaina and Grogu were okay. He couldn’t feel any panic coming from them, but this was all still so new, especially for him. The only thing working in his favor was that the ramp wasn’t operational with the power cut, so the only way in was for someone to carve through the hull.

When he finally pried the door open enough to enter the dark, powerless hold, he snatched his towel to wrap around his waist before going to investigate, hoping he wouldn’t regret leaving his armor on the fresher floor.

For as long as he’d lived in the Razor Crest, he would have thought that he could navigate blindfolded, but with all the doors shut and no light filtering in from up top, he moved slowly and cautiously, hoping that Alaina and the kid were okay and that this was something easily repaired—

He was surprised when he crashed into something—“Oof,” a familiar voice muttered in the dark—or someone. He scrambled to keep them upright, but every move he made seemed to comically tangle them worse until they tumbled to the floor in a heap, and he just barely managed to stick his arms out to brace himself and prevent his body from squishing Alaina’s.

“Ugh,” Alaina groaned from her spot under him. “Mando?”

“Alaina? What happened?”

“The womp rat,” she growled, and the irritation in her voice caught him off guard.

“The kid? How did the kid cut the power?”

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” she groaned. “I shouldn’t have left him alone. He was getting really crabby—like borderline tantrum levels. So, I thought I would be nice and get his stuffed frog because I was hoping that him getting crabby meant he was tired, and I thought if I got his frog, I could get him to finally go to sleep by the time you were out of the shower—"

“Alaina,” he interrupted her ramblings and brought his hands to rest on her cheeks. “Relax, Tranyc. Just tell me how the kid did it, and I can fix it.”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“You don’t know?” He sighed when she didn’t answer and said, but he felt her head shake in his hand. “It’s pitch black. I can’t see you. Use your words.”

Alaina heaved an annoyed sigh. “I came down to the hold to get his frog,” she paused to pat the floor around them until she found what she was looking for and shoved the stuffed frog in his face to feel. “And we had the door shut to give you privacy, so when I made it back up to the cockpit, the lights just went out, and now I can’t open the door.”

He blinked as he processed her story and couldn’t stop the quiet chuff from escaping his lips.

“It’s not funny,” she grumbled, and he smiled at her tone because he could hear her pouting in the darkness.

His chuff slowly morphed into a full-blown belly laugh, and he only laughed harder when she slapped his chest.

“It’s not funny! I locked us out of the cockpit! The door won’t open or anything! We’re locked out, and this whole thing will probably traumatize Grogu for the rest of his life.”

Squeals of laughter floated down to them, and he rolled his eyes through his laughter at the kid’s antics. "You're right, he does sound traumatized," he teased, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

She slapped his chest weakly again, “You can’t see it, but I want you to know I’m rolling my eyes at you.” He hummed in acceptance and smiled when Alaina’s fingers ghosted over his chest. “You’re naked,” she whispered, and the innocence in that tiny declaration brought an entire day's worth of frustrations rushing back to him.

“I was in the shower,” he murmured, bringing his other hand to cup her face, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin under his fingers. “Was a little too concerned about you and the kid to worry about getting dressed.”

One of her hands left his chest to rest on his freshly shaved cheek. “But your helmet?”

“Can you see me?”

“No.”

“Then it’s okay. At least it doesn’t sound like the kid is in any kind of distress,” he joked, but Alaina didn’t laugh along with him. “Alaina, this isn’t your fault. The kid probably just yanked out some spark plugs. It's my fault for never replacing the cover when I broke it years ago. It’s nothing I can’t fix.”

Slowly, subtly, he felt her withdraw from their moment as her muscles began to tense under him, and he stroked her head. It was strange to feel something wrong before he heard or saw it. But the small, warm cord in his chest went cold right before a quiet sniffle came from under him, and he stroked her cheek, surprised to find an errant tear sliding down. “Alaina? What’s wrong?”

"I'm sorry, it's nothing," she murmured. She tried to brush the tears from her face, but he gripped her tighter.

"It's not nothing," he argued. "You can't lie to me. I can feel you now," he reminded her. Surely, she wasn’t so upset about something as easily fixable as this. 

He could feel her head shake before he heard another sniffle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was going to bother me,” she whispered, and he could hear her trying to hold her emotions back.

“Alaina—” and then it hit him. He had her in exactly the same position he’d found her and likely in the exact same spot that carcass had pinned her. “I’m sorry,” he apologized and scrambled to try and get off of her, but her hands gripped his wrists and refused to let him go.

“No, don’t—”

He shook his head in the dark, forgetting she couldn't see him. “Stop, you have a right to be upset. I wasn't thinking—”

“Wait! It just caught me off guard. Please. I didn’t… Mando—Din,” she breathed out, and he froze at how she spoke his name. Her hands came to rest on his chest before she whispered, “Din Djarin, make me forget him."

He sighed and brought his forehead to rest against hers. "Alaina—"

"Please," she pleaded, and he could feel her warm breath puff against his face. "I'm okay, I promise. I want you, Din. Make me forget him. Please,” she whispered from under him.

There was nothing in the galaxy that would make him happier.

His lips and body came crashing down around her. His hands held her face tightly while softly kissing her in the darkened hold. He smiled into the kiss when he felt her fingers thread into his hair and her body melt under him. Her legs came up to squeeze his torso, and she tried to deepen their kiss, trying to spur him to lose control, but he held firm. He went for slow and languid with this kiss, savoring every moment he could.

Because he could.

Because this wasn’t goodbye, this wasn’t the end.

This was their beginning.

And he wasn’t going to skip over anything.

He was going to take his time and remember to thank the womp rat for this little stolen moment with Alaina.

Her lips veered away, running up his jawline all the way to his ear.

“Stars, Alaina,” he groaned when her tongue came out to trace along his ear before beginning its descent down his neck.

He became lost in the feeling of her. He became lost in the feeling of them. Because with her walls down, he could feel her desire, which only amplified his own. When her lips made it down his neck to his pulse point, he almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her timid teeth come out to nip the flesh under them.

“Fuck,” he groaned and pulled away to go back for her lips before beginning his own descent down her chin to her neck. “I’m gonna do it right this time,” he murmured between kisses.

“What was wrong with the last time?” Alaina asked. He smiled at her nervous question and brought his head back up to nuzzle his nose into hers before he pressed his lips firmly against hers.

“Nothing, Tranyc,” he told her, smiling when he felt her smile again. “But I’m gonna do it right this time, Alaina. I’m gonna show you how your first time should have been.” He pressed his weight into her, and Alaina’s legs rubbed up and down his waist.

He tore his mouth away long enough to find the hem of her shirt in the dark and pulled it over her head in one, smooth motion. Din ran his hands down her silky skin and returned his lips to her collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses as he made his way down her body. When he reached her breasts, he paid equal amounts of attention to each one and smiled into her sternum when he felt Alaina try to hold his head to her. There would be more time for that later. But for now, he had other plans in mind.

As he made his way down her abdomen, his fingers found the hem of her underwear and slowly slid them down her legs. He sat on his knees and grabbed her left leg to begin pressing kisses from her knee to the inside of her thigh all the way up until Alaina squirmed. He placed that leg over his shoulder, repeating his actions until he was settled on his stomach on the floor with his head nestled between her legs.

“Mando?” Alaina panted and gasped when he bit the inner flesh of her thigh. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Relax,” he soothed her, continuing his trail up her thigh until he reached her center. “And what did I tell you to call me?”

“Din,” she breathed his name out like she was saying a prayer, and he rewarded her by placing a tender kiss on her folds, forcing her to jump in surprise. Before she could say anything else, he flattened his tongue against her and slid through her. Alaina hissed and tensed when his tongue circled her clit. “Din,” she moaned this time, but he could still feel that her body was strained. She was nervous.

“Has no one ever done this for you before?” he questioned, lightly nipping at the sensitive skin before him.

“N-n-noo,” she stuttered and tried to close her legs, but his grip on her thighs tightened, preventing her from hiding herself from him.

“Relax, Mesh’la,” he purred, pulling her nub between his lips. He used his hands to massage her thighs while he sucked on her again. The faintest mewl came from her lips, and the sound almost broke him. “Let me take care of you.”

He could hear her suck in a deep breath as his tongue dipped back in for another taste. Din couldn’t stop his own moan at the taste and feel of his tongue sliding effortlessly through her slick. His fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs, and Alaina rocked her center into his face, forcing the delicate bundle of nerves hiding inside to knock against his nose.

“There you go, Tranyc,” he praised her, nuzzling his face inside her folds before he plunged his tongue as far inside of her as he could.

Alaina gasped, and her hips jolted into his face. “Mmm, Din,” she keened.

Din Djarin was in heaven. 

Having this remarkable woman quiver around him and say his name like that… should be illegal. Not to mention that she tasted like karking sunshine. But she still hadn’t fully relaxed for him yet. She was wound up and nervous, but he wanted her to relax and let him take care of her.

He withdrew his tongue from her channel and switched tactics. After a couple of unsuspecting laps through her center, spreading her sweet juices with his tongue, he latched onto her clit with his lips and sucked.

Greedily.

Alaina’s hand shot to his head and her fingers latched painfully to his hair, making him moan in pleasure. When she forcefully ground herself harder over his face, he rewarded her by sucking harder onto her nub. He attacked her as if his life depended on it. He sucked and lapped at her until the pitch-black hold was filled with a crescendo of Alaina’s breathless pants and moans.

“Din,” she mewled, tugging on his hair. “Din—I’m—” she gasped when he brought his teeth out and grazed her clit with them, and she came with an almost silent moan, but her thighs shook and quivered around his head, and her juices flooded over his tongue.

He drank her all in, lapping, licking, and sucking her through it until her orgasm dwindled to quiet pants, and her legs collapsed bonelessly over his shoulders as she melted into a puddle on the floor.

“That was—” she tried to start but couldn’t catch her breath. “That was—I hadn’t ever—”

“Did you like it, Tranyc?” he asked, already guessing the answer judging by the amount of her slick coating his mustache and chin.

“Yes,” she breathed, carding her fingers through his hair. His eyes closed at the contact, and he felt like he could purr like a loth cat from her gentle touch. “Would—I mean, I haven’t ever—well, that’s not—I mean—”

Din smiled at her nonsensical babbling to slide his tongue through her sensitive slit again, forcing her incoherent words to come to an abrupt stop and instead replaced them with a low groan.

“Would you like me to… um… return the favor?”

His brain short-circuited, and he rested his head in her lap at her nervous question. “Oh, Tranyc,” he purred. “As much as I want nothing more than to feel your sweet mouth on me like that—” he grunted as his body already responded to the image of Alaina on her knees, taking him with her mouth. “You would bring this moment to an end far too soon, and I have plans for you.”

“What kind of plans?” she asked. At the sultry sound of her voice, he smiled into her thigh.

He gripped her thighs and brought his mouth back to her center to distract her from his right hand moving from her leg to join his mouth between her legs. "You tell me, Tranyc," he purred as his middle finger ghosted a path through her slick middle.

Alaina's hips jolted, and her chest filled with air at his touch. "M-me?" she stuttered.

He hummed in agreement and felt her shudder from the vibrations of the low noise. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about this," he murmured, bringing his lips up to kiss her hipbone as his finger teased her opening. He slowly inched the digit in and had to bite back a groan when he felt her walls flutter around his fingertip. "I know you dreamed about it."

Her body stilled under him. "Y-y-you did?"

"Mmmmm," he hummed into her hip as he slid his finger in one smooth motion through her velvet walls to his knuckle. She gasped, and he could feel her chest start to take shallow breaths again. He eased his finger out of her heat until it completely left her, only for him to enter her warmth again just as slow and steady as he entered her the first time, and continued his slow, torturous pace until Alaina mewled and squirmed under him. "What were you dreaming about, mesh'la?" he whispered.

"S-s-org-gan," she stuttered breathlessly.

His eyes lit up at that new information, and he felt like a wolf smiling down on his unsuspecting prey. He increased his languid pace as a reward for this new crumble of information. "I've dreamed about you too. Do you want to know what I dreamed about?"

"Yes," she panted when he changed the angle of his slow massage.

He started peppering kisses up her abdomen until he reached her sternum and turned his head to lick her nipple. "I dreamed about our flying lessons," he said darkly, grabbing the stiff, pebbled flesh between his teeth. 

"Din," she moaned and brought one hand up to the back of his head and her other to rest between his shoulder blades. "You don't like our flying lessons," she said after another minute, sounding confused.

"You don't like our flying lessons," he reminded her, hooking his finger sheathed inside of her at the same time he moved his head to nip at the underside of her breast.

"Oh!" she yelped, her hips rocking into his hand, seeking more from him.

"You were being a brat," he continued the retelling of his dream, smiling into her chest while his lips across her chest and toward her neck.

"I'm no-not a brat," she stuttered, attempting to defend herself.

He shoved a second finger inside her to reprimand her for her sass. Alaina gasped, and her fingernails dug deliciously into his shoulder blades. "Oh, you can be a brat, Tranyc," he murmured, and she dug her nails harder into his back. "But I'll tell you a secret," he whispered, moving his lips to pull her bottom lip into his mouth while he continued to work his fingers inside of her. "I like it when you're being a brat to me. No one, and I mean no one, can get me as infuriated or as worked up as quickly as you can, mesh'la."

Alaina quietly giggled, and then that muted laughter turned into a gasp when his fingers started stretching her, preparing her for him. "Maker—Ohhhhhhhh!" she moaned loudly in his ear when he sharply thrust his fingers inside of her. "Diiiin."

"You were being a brat and wouldn't stop pushing my buttons, so I decided to teach you a lesson."

"I'm—not—a—brat," she eventually managed to get out between breaths.

"Mmmmm," he hummed into her lips before he kissed her. "That's what you said in my dream, too," he murmured right before he yanked his finger from her heat.

Din didn't give her a chance to protest. He grabbed her waist between his hands and tossed her over his shoulder before he climbed to his feet. He walked the three steps to the hull and felt around until he found the ladder leading up top. He gripped her hips in his hands and pulled her off his shoulder to line his eager, throbbing length up with her center. "Tell me again that you're not a brat," he ordered, dropping his voice an octave.

"I'm—not—" she began, but he wouldn't let her finish. His hips canted upward, notching the tip of his weeping cock inside her velvety soft walls. Alaina gasped at the feeling and clenched her walls impossibly tight around him, forcing his right hand to fly off her hip to grip the base of his cock to keep him from spilling right there. With only one hand holding on to her hips, Alaina started groaning and rocking her hips over him.

"Fuck," he moaned into her cheek. "You're just as tight as I remember."

Her body began to writhe between him and the ladder as she continued trying to take more of him in. She slid her hips up until he slipped from her warmth, forcing a hiss from both of them at the loss of contact. Blessedly, her hips sunk back down, finding the head of his cock and going slightly past it before she inched herself off of him again. She repeated this as soft sounds of her pleasure left her mouth as she continued to take him a little more each time, slowly allowing her body to adjust to his girth. "Din," she keened against his lips, and he could feel her face crumple in a mix of pain and pleasure.

Feeling slightly more in control of his body, and his hand left his cock to return to her hip again. He leaned into her head and found her lips with his, giving her a searing kiss that she returned just as passionately. "Say it again, Laina," he murmured between kisses. "Say my name."

"Din," she repeated against his lips.

"Fuck," he growled at the sweet way she spoke his name. His hips lost control and canted upward, allowing his rigid length further inside of her.

"Din!" she cried out, arching her back off the ladder into his chest.

"Again," he grunted.

"Din," she breathed out quietly, only to immediately scream it when he rammed his hips between her legs, spearing his cock the rest of the way inside of her.

His fingers dug into the flesh on her hips, holding her still over him while he ground himself so far inside of her that the head of his cock nudged her womb, and she cried out. "To think," he started and ran his lips along her bottom jaw, "you wanted just to skip over this part."

Alaina shook her head, and he bit down on her jaw, forcing her still. "No," she panted. "No skipping," she murmured, writhing against him. "Not with you, Din."

He pulled his hips back to slide his length out until he almost left her before sliding slowly back inside until she had sheathed his cock in her velvet walls to his hilt.

"Din," she repeated breathlessly. With her jaw still between his teeth, he grunted at the sound of his name. His hips were no longer his control. They saught her warmth. "Din," she whispered, and he slammed home. "Yes," she moaned.

"Again."

"Din."

He slammed back inside of her, pinning her hips to the ladder each time he thrust home. His forehead rested against hers, so he could feel it each time his name left her lips. Alaina repeated his name, sounding as if she had completely lost herself to the pleasure. Each time his name left her lips, he rewarded her by pumping his cock slowly in and out of her. Her hands left the ladder and took him by surprise when her nails came to dig into his shoulders at the base of his neck, and she used her new leverage to help move against his cock, meeting his thrust for slow thrust.

"Yes!" she cried out when he picked up the pace and started eagerly chasing after his cock with her hips.

"Fuck, that's it, Alaina," he growled through clenched teeth at the feeling of her slick walls bobbing eagerly over his cock. He rammed harder inside of her, and her nails dug harder into his skin. With another thrust, he felt her bare breasts jiggle against his bare chest from the force. "Tell me you want to be my partner," he pleaded, losing himself to the pleasure.

"Partners," Alaina agreed, slamming her cunt over him, forcing a shout of pleasure from both their lips.

"Tell me again you want to be partners. Tell me you want to be my partner."

"Your's Din. Your's."

He snapped at her words, and his hands left her hips to grab onto the ladder, pinning her tightly between his body and the durasteel ladder as he took her.

He bucked wildly inside of her, setting a pace that she couldn't keep up with. The slick from her juices drenched his cock, allowing his rapid tempo. His lips were against hers, but they weren't kissing. Instead, their combined breaths and grunts echoed around the quiet hull; the sound was made more obscene each time he pumped inside of her, allowing them to hear how much she was soaking him with her desire.

He felt the delicious burn low in his abdomen, signaling he was close, but there was something else there. With a shock, he realized that he could also feel Alaina's desire inside of him, and being able to feel her pleasure coiled tightly was a surreal feeling. It was her and him together, standing in the ocean, watching as the tide drew out from the shore, preparing for the next wave to come crashing into them.

"I can feel you," Alaina whispered against his lips. "I can feel you. Oh my—Din!"

Din slammed his lips over her as the wave swelled and crested. He growled into her mouth as he drank in her cries of pleasure. His thrusts became erratic as he moaned through the feeling of her velvet walls rippling over his swollen cock. The wave crashed into him when he felt her cunt squeeze him tightly in his grip as it flooded his cock with her juices. 

"Alaina!" he roared and then clamped his teeth over her pulse point as his hips stuttered and started desperately slamming into her, seeking his own pleasure. His cock swelled painfully, and he felt his balls draw up in anticipation as he started losing the battle.

Alaina's fingers wound into his hair, holding him to her neck as he moaned and ground deeply inside of her.

"Din," she whispered into his head.

Hearing her say his name in such a way was the final push he needed. Like a ship that lost a battle in space, his body silently imploded before his cock pulsed, and he exploded inside of her. His teeth clamped down into her flesh as he ground himself as deeply inside of her as he could while their bodies shattered. Alaina thrashed and wailed against him as her soft walls continued to flutter around his cock, milking him for everything he had, while Din roared into her skin.

His pleasure mixed with hers until he couldn't tell who was who. 

Slowly, the bright white aftershock faded away, and when Din came to, it was piece by piece. The sounds of their breathless pants filled his ears. He pressed a tender kiss to where he felt indentations left behind from his teeth. Part of him felt bad because he knew that would hurt once she came around, but the other prideful part of him relished in the fact that he'd marked her for everyone to see that she was his. Her body slumped against the ladder, and he had to bring his hands to grip her ass to keep her from sinking to the floor. Besides, he was still enjoying the feeling of being inside her heat and the feeling of his seed mixing with her juices as they slid out of her.

"That—" Alaina panted but struggled to complete her sentence. "That was—" Din smirked into her neck and brought his lips to hers, pressing a tired, sloppy kiss to them. "Is it supposed to feel like that every time?" He smiled into their kiss when her lips finally responded. "No one—No one told me it would feel like that."

His chest swelled with pride, and he smothered her lips with his before he finally pulled away. "This is just the beginning, Alaina," he whispered, pressing another kiss to her lips.

"Mmmm. I don't think my legs work anymore," she murmured bleerily into the kiss.

"I've got you, Tranyc." Din grunted and went to smother Alaina's pained gasp with his lips as he slid out of her and moved so he could hook her legs under one arm and her chest with his other while he cradled her limp body against him. "I've got you, Alaina," he whispered, brushing his lips against her forehead as he carried her to the other side of the hold to her cot.

When his leg found the low cot, he lowered her to the blankets and tried to stand back up, but her hands gripped his wrists. "I'll be right back," he promised, blindly brushing some of the hair that was plastered to her face. "I've got to see what kind of damage the kid did." Alaina dropped his wrists, and he smiled when he heard her breathing start to even out in the dark.

He felt like he was in a daze as he shuffled around the hold to return to the fresher. His hand blindly searched around the ground until he found his helmet and the sweatpants he'd brought in before his shower, leaving the rest where it was until the morning. With only a minor struggle, he managed to get his helmet and pants on before he found the ladder again, smiling when he realized he would be replaying that moment every time he needed to climb up or down it and headed through the hatch toward the cockpit. After a moment of fighting with the door, he eventually pried it open and was able to get inside to see what atrocities awaited him.

Din's gaze dropped to the floor, and he shook his head. There was Grogu, sleeping and oblivious, surrounded by at least ten spark plugs and his silver ball on the floor. Thankfully, the storm from earlier appeared to have passed, and the bright, glowing night illuminated the cockpit enough for him to fumble with the plugs to put them back in their places. With the final spark plug in place, Din flicked a switch, and the Razor Crest returned to life.

"Thanks, kid," he whispered to the sleeping child as he knelt to pick him up. With the kid tucked into his chest, he carried him back down to the hold and placed him in his hammock in the alcove. He turned around to search for the kid's stuffed frog and grabbed it from the floor to tuck in with him.

Once the kid was situated, Din turned to cross the hold, grabbing Alaina's discarded shirt and underwear as he went to open the ramp. Once the ambient light from the moon filled the hold, he shut the lights off and returned to the sleeping blonde. She had passed out on top of the blankets, leaving her exposed body for his viewing pleasure, now bathed in the soft light from outside.

"Maker," he whispered to no one as he went to join her on the cot.

As he made himself comfortable, laying next to her, he took one last lingering moment to soak her in before he turned her to pull her back against his chest as he covered them up with a blanket.

Din Djarin drifted to sleep with the single, sleepy realization that he'd lived his whole life without also knowing it was supposed to feel like that.

Of course, Din Djarin had lived his whole life without ever having a true partner.

Until now.

Author's Note #2: I hope the slow burn has been worth it 😈😜

For those of you in the US (and across the world) going into the holidays, please know that I am genuinely so thankful for every one of you. Alaina and her story would not have made it this far without your support.

With that said, for those of you going into Thanksgiving and the holiday season disheartened by certain recent events... Maybe you're in my shoes and have had to hodgepodge a Friends-giving together because you're not welcome to join your own families. Just know that I am saving a special seat for you, and you are not alone. Welcome to Clan Stardust. We're deranged, and occasionally, there is a smut monster that breaks out and wreaks havoc, but we're here. We are a safe space for all 💙

XOXO, 💫Stardust💫

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Next chapter in series - Chapter 19: First Light

[kenobiwanx]

here i am drawing din and my oc to let you know that my commissions are open! 🫢