#autummleaves1991-blog

[lady-of-glass-and-bone]

Novalunosis

[n.] the state of relaxation and wonderment experienced while gazing upon the stars.

For @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday, my first one! And this picture is gorgeous.

Pairing: Din Djarin x female oc (no name/features are mentioned)

Warnings: uh, don't jump off balconies into water please? Fluff, angst-ish, idk what I'm doing.

A/N: Takes place before the show.I don't know how the Force works? *waves hands* Fanfic! My first time writing for Din and Star Wars in general. Also, punctuation? Don't know her.

There's a vaguely familiar silhouette standing behind the gauzy curtain across the room. A room Din doesn't recall entering, which should put him on high alert but he finds that the adrenaline doesn't come rushing. Nothing about this room with walls the color of soft sunlight and warmth in the lines of its decoration sets him on edge.

If anything, he relaxes where he sits on the edge of the bed. Looking down he finds a muted green blanket and crisp white sheets tucked neatly around the mattress beneath him. Gloved fingers run over the slight sheen of the top layer, wondering how he could dream up something he's never seen before.

These dreams, and the figure across the room, find him when he sleeps. Not often enough that he expects them but with a frequency that puzzles him when he lets it. Nothing ever the same twice, nothing except for her.

"I think I was here with my parents once, when I was little" the voice reaches his ears like there isn't a barrier of beskar between the two and he has to reach up to feel for it, just to be sure.

The figure chuckles, pushing the curtain out of the way to smile at him. Having a smile offered to him, for him, is not a regular occurrence for the Mandalorian but still, it's nothing he seems to need to be wary of if the warmth uncurling in his chest is to be trusted.

The woman is barefoot, pale blue pants fitted with pockets at every chance with a well worn, cream colored shirt tucked haphazardly into the high waist line. Her arms are bare, scars on them visible from where he sits.

Her face is happy but expectant, eyes trained on him. Definitely familiar. A name floats somewhere in his head but he can't quite reel it in, even as she walks over to sit down beside him, one leg tucked under the other as she faces him.

She's close, knee brushing his thigh as she settles comfortably. Din knows her, she obviously knows him. How is the only mystery.

"Are we dreaming?" he asks, helmet turned in her direction, the use of 'we' coming out before he can comprehend it.

"Yeah, the first one in a while" she nods.

"How?"

"You always ask that."

"Should I not?" his tone is less than cordial but he's confused yet unconcerned at the same time and it is frustrating.

"Din, I know you, and I know the scar on your right hand palm because I put it there" as casually as she speaks his name, she tugs on the glove of his hand, arching a brow in question.

He lets her have it, her own hand wrapping around it, careful of his vambrace, and massages the scar through the leather of the glove.

"You were better with a vibroblade at the time" he huffs, more so at the strange sensation of saying something he knows is true with certainty, even though the memory attached to it remains blurry.

"Were?" she scoffs playfully and Din smiles just a little "I'd bet my whole weapons cash that I'm still better with one than you are, Din Djarin."

"Deal" he says and curls his fingers around hers, leaning into her space like the slow pull of gravity when a ship breaks atmo.

Forehead meets helmet none to gently but she just grins up at him, so close to the visor it might as well not be there at all. He gets the distinct sense that for her it makes no difference, she knows him. She knows his face.

One corner of her mouth pulls up with her grin, a little crooked, but it feels significant. Distinctive. It strikes a chord somewhere inside him and thrums its vibrations of familiarity all throughout his body.

"Wanna see outside? It's beautiful" she pulls back, standing with their hands still connected.

Din can only nod, getting to his feet when she tugs. A helpless satellite in her orbit.

The balcony behind the curtain is small but surrounded by green towers of hanging vines, leaves reaching downward over railings and stone architecture carefully crafted to feel open. Like the walls are meant to breathe with you.

He's too busy gazing up at the blue square of sky through the open roof that he doesn't notice her tugging off her pants until they are tossed at his helmet.

"What are you- NO!" the nervousness in his voice pitches upwards to panic once he pulls the fabric clear of his visor, only to see her push herself up and over the balcony railing.

The jump is graceful, muscles learned in quick movements, trained to lift, pull, and leap. It just about stops his heart as she slips out of his reach and down below. Maybe this isn't a dream after all.

The splash below nearly has him keeling over the railing, watching the fabric of her shirt billow out in the water, a stark contrast to the blue tile design on the floor of the pool.

"Are you kriffing insane?" he yells down to her once she surfaces.

"Cuy ogir'olar" she answers in Mando'a, crooked grin taking over her face.

"Irrelevant my-" he shakes his head "you could have gotten hurt!"

"This is a dream Din! Stop being such a gullipud and join me!" she kicks onto her back and begins to paddle calmly around the pool.

He sighs as he watches her, strong legs pushing her through the water leisurely while her arms keep her balanced. It's a steady rhythm, watching the clear water ripple around her, sunlight flickering on the miniature waves like metal in dunes of sand.

Din gives in sooner than he likes to admit. Removing his armor piece by piece to set it on the bed, hesitating with hands poised to remove his helmet.

This is nothing but a dream after all.

The sentiment makes it no easier to walk back out onto the balcony, devoid of any beskar, barefoot and balling his hands up so tight he can feel the bite of his nails on his palms. Looking down at the water, he spots her floating on her back, eyes closed.

Leaping over the railing is nothing, he does dangerous things all the time. It's when he bobs back up to the surface of the cool water that any kind of apprehension sets in because she's swimming over to him, that bright look back on her face.

"You look like a drowned Wookie" she teases, slowly lifting a hand to push the hair plastered to his forehead away "when was the last time you got a haircut?" He pretends to think about his answer, enjoying the feel of her skin on his face as she lets a finger drift down between his brows, across the bridge of his nose and all the way to tip. It's a circuit she repeats, back and forth. Up and down. Like she's putting him in a trance.

It works. Her question forgotten, just the warm brush of her fingertip and the feeling of being known. Even covered in his armor it felt that way.

He knows she doesn't like being told what to do, knows how hard the knuckles of her deceptively soft looking hands can be against flesh, knows she was a Foundling like him. He knows that she never gets tired of looking at the stars, no matter how far she travels.

She only startles a little when he lunges forward to lift her up and pull her tight against him, arms secure around her. His face is pressed against hers, every inch of connection he can wring out of this, he will.

"Hi" she whispers into his ear, with arms slung around his neck and legs around his waist beneath the water. She sounds like she's greeting an old friend who has finally recognized her.

"I missed you but I don't even know who you are" voice thick, he admits defeat "I don't know your name and I'm afraid to let you go."

"I know, Din, I know" she nods and the drag of her cheek against his sends a shiver down his spine.

"Tell me where you are so I can come to you"

"I'm right here"

"I mean it"

He pulls back, one palm cupping her face, staring her down. Intent on waiting her out. The water laps patiently at their movements like a ticking metronome.

"No, you're right where you need to be, on the path you need to go down" she smiles again but there's a sadness creeping into it.

"I don't care" his words are quietly fierce, pulling her back against him as if he holds on tight enough to her, he can pull her out of this dream with him.

He shuts his eyes and buries his face into the crook of her neck, the cool scent of water giving way to the layers underneath. Of bacta and herbs and something unnameable and warm assaulting his senses.

Around them, the vibrant green layers begin to brown and decay. Leaves fall swiftly down to float on the water, dissolving. The walls start to break slowly, color fading from the intricate tile work. She can hear wood splinter and give way under rot somewhere above them.

"This place, it doesn't exist in the real world anymore" she tells him, tears gathering as she looks up while still holding tight to her Mandalorian.

"I don't care" Din repeats, eyes open and trying for one more glimpse into hers but she's looking up.

So he does too and finds the sky dark, spotted with stars he's never seen before. They must be her stars, wherever she is.

"It's okay Din" she shushes him even as he shakes his head, the pit in his stomach a gnawing beast of panic he hasn't felt in so long.

He knows he wouldn't recognize himself at the moment, this silent begging thing clutching onto an almost stranger like she knows the universes biggest secrets. It's not okay.

"It is, it is" she leans in, finger beginning the endless loop of stroking the strong line of his nose, up to the furrow in his brow. Once, twice, and then she presses a kiss with warm lips to his cheek.                                   ----------------------------------- The mandalorian jolts awake, nearly spilling out of the pilots seat in the cockpit of the Crest. Heart pounding like a heard of bantha, sucking in breaths so fast he yanks of his helmet.

The blur of hyperspace stares back at him from the view port and he tries to tell himself the spot on his cheek that remains damp yet warm is simply sweat.

Not even the stars believe that.                                      --------------------------------- On a planet that spins beneath stars from a dream, the walls of her bedroom give a quick tremble in sync with her return to consciousness. She had given up on shelves and hanging pictures long ago.

They simply ended up breaking, like so many other things.

Pulling her blanket tight around her shoulders, she gets out of bed and makes her way through the dark maze of her home. It's large but not for the luxury of it, whatever isn't covered in medical supplies and random tech leaves very little for personal items.

An old habit from to much time spent planet hopping.

But the stars, there is always room for the stars.

[lady-of-glass-and-bone]

Hi sweetie! Can I request a little something with Din Djarin? Maybe he stops at a market on a little off world planet and Grogu keeps sneaking away to this one fruit stand where he meets… I’ll leave the rest up to you, thank you! ❤️

Okay. So this turned into a Whole Thing and I'm gonna possibly absolutely without a doubt do another part for this because all the inspiration comes at 5am apparently and thank you so much for the request!❤️❤️

*set sometime between season 1 & 2*

It's not a dangerous planet by any means. That doesn't mean the Kid won't find trouble in some shape or form. It's practically his specialty.

The first trip to the little market on the green planet goes just fine. There's evidence of the war here just like every other planet it's touched in the galaxy but the vibrant plants are fighting back valiantly, budding and producing fruit and vines crawling.

The vendors are kind, if a bit wary of a Mandalorian, but the Kid wins them over with one glance of his big shiny eyes. They get a suspicious amount of free samples.

It reminds Din a little of Sorgan, with the way the children roam free in groups while the adults work in one fashion or another. He can tell the Kid wants to get down and play, wants to be a part of it all, but he doesn't fuss like Din had anticipated.

Maybe he remembers how the last time ended, on that wonderful backwater planet with all the frogs and smiles he could ever need.

On the walk back to the Crest they pass a fenced in field of some animals grazing and the Kid is almost mesmerized by they slow flicking of their tails and gentle swaying walk. Din finds himself staring too.

The Kid falls asleep eventually but Din stays a little while longer, just staring out at the darkening horizon. He falls asleep a little easier that night.

When he wakes up and the kid isn't in his hammock, Din panics. Naturally. Searches the whole ship and then does it again before finally stepping out onto the grassy field, trying to find small heat signatures left behind by small feet. But the grass is swaying and just a little too tall and-

"Looking for-"

Din has his blaster out and aimed at the voice before you can finish.

It's instinct that has you turning your back and shielding the little green one from potential blaster fire, cradling him with one hand while the other goes for a weapon that is no longer there.

The Kid's babbling is what breaks the tense standoff, the Mandalorian suddenly in front of you, all but prying the floppy eared thief from your arms.

He is talking to him, gently scolding him about how he can't just run off but the Kid just coos up at his guardian and lifts a tri-clawed hand to present his spoils.

"I found him in a basket of my fruit, recognized him from yesterday and asked around about where the Mandalorian was staying and uh, well. Here we are" you shrug up at the blank visor, nerves still a bit twitchy, even though the blaster is back in it's holster.

"Thank you" he says with a tilt of his helmet, both arms tucked around the Kid happily chewing up your lost merchandise.

"No problem, and uh. . . I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" you gesture vaguely.

When you'd returned home, it felt like everything set you on edge, balanced on the tip of a blade and waiting to fall. Some days it's still like that but those days you just end up spending in the fields.

The Mandalorian shifts uneasily and the Kid tilts his head back to look up at him, big eyes searching. Curious, intuitive little thing.

"It's. . . how much for the fruit?"

"What?"

"What the Kid took, how many credits?"

"Oh, no, it's fine, I found him before he could put a dent in what we have stored, everything's growing back full this season" you assure him, grinning down at the Kid, now semi-coated in fruit juices.

"No, I mean-"

"And I mean it's honestly no problem, really, maybe just stop by and get a basket of some for him before you head out" you chuckle at the Kid's happy sound, like he knew exactly what you'd said, and then give a warm smile to the Beskar statue holding him as you set off back towards home.

Din sighs, part in relief and part in something he's not sure he can't name as he watches you make your way back toward what must be your home.

He tilts his head at the slight hitch in every other step or so you take until your form disappears down the hill and out of sight.

The Kid makes an inquisitive noise and Din looks down to see his face covered in sticky fruit guts. Another modulated sigh but this time sounding more fond than irritated.

"Guess we'll stick around for that other basket huh Kid."