#bodyguard!din x princess!reader

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 19}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader) ; brief Force Sensitive! Reader and M!OC

Summary: As the wedding to Prince Cala looms closer, you find yourself feeling more and more out of place within the palace walls. You find an unexpected friend in your new bodyguard and handmaiden.

Word Count: 9.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, we meet readers betrothed and he needs his own warning, reader's mother also gets her own warning, kidnapping, reader is being kept against her will, hostage situation, use of narcotics, use of drugs, sedatives, self-depreciating thoughts, ptsd symptoms, medical trauma, past medical trauma, feelings of inadequacy, sexual themes, sexual content (not detailed), non con touching, unwanted advances, emotional manipulation, unnecessary display of possession, memory loss, controlling family dynamics, marriage set up, sold into marriage, there are a few more but they will spoil the chapter!

A/N: whew okay, sorry y'all. a looooot has been going on in my personal life, detailed in this post and this one. my only source of internet is the local library at the moment, which will make posting actual fic a little tricky for a moment. but i'm so excited to dwell further into this original arc with y'all ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Ringing. Ringing, ringing. It completely consumed you, from the very center of your ears, muffling every other sound that tried to get through.

It didn’t hurt, but it did make it hard to concentrate, it felt like an immense pressure behind your eyes as well. Making your forehead and temples sensitive to touch, making it hard to take in the bright light from the desert landscape beyond your windows.

There was a soft knock at your door, signaling the start of the day. But you didn’t rise, feeling too lethargic even as the form of your mother and two handmaidens entered the room in a flurry of motions and quick words. But everything ceased when you called out from beneath your covers as the curtains were drawn back.

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Her words were sweet, cloyingly so, setting off an unease deep in your gut, nausea roiling at the combination.

“I-I don’t feel too good. My head, it hurts.” You roll over to your side, unable to move much beyond that as the throbbing in your head intensifies. She goes to sit beside your covered form on the edge of the bed, but you protest before she does. You didn’t want her anywhere near you, the very thought of her touching you making your body tense up and ready to fight her off. Frowning, she retracts her hands from where she had begun to reach out, something glinting in her eyes.

“I’ll go see if the med droid is available.” And then she was off, allowing you to see her exchange a few words with the guards outside your door. You catch a glimpse of brown eyes, making contact with the man who possessed them for a breath, and you feel like the air catches in your chest. That simple, momentary contact with a man you don’t know eases the ailments that have you still in bed despite the late morning of the hour. But the door is shut tightly behind everyone as they exit the room. Leaving you in isolation, the curtains fastened shut once again.  

Hours later, as the sun begins its descent from the highest point in the sky, you slowly open your bedroom door. There’s only one guard at your door, posted there to ensure your safety as you keep to your quarters for the day. He’s dressed in flowing black layers, brown leather harness and belt allowing for his sheathed rapier style sword to dangle from his hips. His head snaps to attention as you emerge slightly, and you feel your heart skip a beat as his eyes bore into yours.

Any thoughts of what you were about to ask are pushed from your aching head when you connect the man standing before you with the polite one from the market a few days ago. The one who had held you so tenderly and made sure you were okay when your body had convulsed as a weird energy had suddenly flooded your senses. The ones whose eyes you had glimpsed through the door earlier.

“Excuse me, but-oh Maker, I’m so sorry, this is so inappropriate to ask- but you look so familiar,” A breathy laugh gave away your nervousness. “Your eyes are just so beautiful, and I think we met in the market the other day, if I’m not mistaken?”

“We did.” His voice was like velvet rich, a caressing softness in your ringing ears. Easing the ache still lingering in your head even if his words were short, his tone almost emotionless.

“Oh, goodness, okay. I don’t feel so out of line. I just…I thought it was you but I didn’t want to risk offending you or making you uncomfortable since you’re new to the palace.” The hallway was silent, as if he was thinking over his next words, as if he was unsure of how to speak with you. But you didn’t mind, sensing he was a man of few words.

“What made you feel like it was okay to ask?” He’s watching you closely, and you feel as if you’re being dissected. Being read in a way you weren’t quite comfortable with but…it also stirred warmth low in your middle. It was so different a look to those you encountered from the rest of the staff, from your mother, from Prince Cala and his family.

“Oh, um. Did I-I speak too intimately with you, I apologize. I really didn’t mean anything by it-“ You flustered, unsure why the man was pinning you with such focus. As if he was reading things in your body language and inflections differently than those you dealt with on a daily basis around the palace, as if he was privy to what they meant. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the ringing still pressing down on your ears. Closing your eyes in a focusing blink before bowing to the man in front of you, stood dutifully at his post outside your bedroom door. Opening them back up, you avoided his eyes, not wanting to see the disdain he was surely pinning you with. “My apologies, sir, I meant no disrespect. I’ll leave you to your post.”

“No, don’t go. It’s okay, I promise. You can ask me anything you want.” He inclined his head toward you, one hand moving to grasp the hilt of his weapon. But it didn’t feel like a threat, it felt more like he was trying to ground himself. “I will do my best to answer. Though there are some things I may not be able to.”

“Why, because I’m the princess and you have to answer to me?” You tried not to scoff, the notion so ridiculous even if all signs pointed to this being your life. The title is something you had earned by falling in the good graces of the prince, of being promised to the prince of this planet. You never recalled wanting to be of such a standing and yet it had happened, it was your life. The insistence of so being repeated to you nearly daily over breakfast with your mother and at night over tea, almost as if it was a false truth being pushed on you until you believed it to be so. It was the reality in which you were roused from your accident, the one so bad you couldn’t recall any specifics.

“Because I don’t mind, you were kind to me and my…child in the market. He really enjoyed those berries.”

“Is he here with you?” You felt a swoop of admiration in your middle, the image of the small green boy lifting up the edges of your lips. You didn’t have the best experience with children, or any really, but you enjoyed the small sounds of happiness he had made as he munched and interacted with you. It filled a void you hadn’t realized, interacting with him, with his son. You never recalled wanting children either, though you mother and the parents of Prince Cala often cited two would be an appropriate number once the marriage was carried out. The discussion something you hadn’t even been a part of, making you feel some type of way about the whole ordeal that concerned your body and your livelihood.

“Yes, he’s back in the guards’ quarters, Asleep in my room.”

“He isn’t with your wife…his mother?”

“No, she’s…she’s, something happened to her.” His eyes averted, staring at the toes of his boots. They were worn, so unlike the rest of his pristine ensemble. It piqued your interest, but you didn’t want to push the friendly boundary barely established with the man.

“Is she okay?” It was quiet, your inquiry. Worry unsettling your stomach for the phantom woman who belonged to the man beside you.

“I hope she will be. It’s a…sensitive thing, that ails her.” His eyes don’t leave yours, gaze strong and glinting with emotion.

“I wish her a full recovery, I’m sure she misses you two by her side.” Breathing out the words, you suspected the man had been about to tell you she had perished. Unsure of why the prospect of him having a person, a partner… a wife seemed to settle heavy in your stomach. But it made sense, he was a handsome man as far as you could tell, his eyes beautiful enough to capture anyone’s attention. His obvious admiration for his son and the care with which he spoke…of course he had someone by his side.

The flare of jealously at the thought made you feel a little foolish as it unnerved you, you only just met this man. You didn’t even know his name. Frowning slightly, you bowed your head, hoping to convey your true condolences for his ailing wife.

“I…can only hope for the same thing.” Something in his forlorn tone didn’t sit well, sticking to the inside of your stomach. It was heavy, his feelings for the woman he spoke of, there was no doubt about it. And while it was endearing, it also felt…wrong. Like he shouldn’t be talking about someone else that way, that it was an odd thing for his focus to be on someone else.

Heat overtook your chest as you tried to push down the ill feelings toward this ailing, phantom woman Because this man was a stranger. A stranger with a cute, little, green child. He was nothing to you, new to the planet perhaps, definitely new to the palace and this line of work. You were sure you would remember such a sparkling set of eyes, accident or not.

Glancing back into your room, you wished they hadn’t brought you so much for lunch. Wanting to share in the abundance of it with someone who could use a little help. Being a guard couldn’t pay well and the man had a child and a sick wife to take care of. The fruit and skewers of marinated meat far too plentiful for just yourself. You didn’t want it to go to waste but you also didn’t want to force any more appetite than you had. Offering it to him would be a good attempt to make sure it didn’t go to waste.

“They brought me a lot of food, would-would you like me to make you a plate?”

“I can’t leave my post.”

“What if you came inside and we sat on the balcony? Furthest place from the door and you would be close enough to me should any threats arise.”

“That sounds very tempting. But it would be a violation for me to leave my post.”

“Oh, okay. That’s okay, I know it’s a lot to ask of you. It’s just…” You couldn’t look up at his face, his eyes that were no doubt still watching you closely. You felt embarrassed for being so forward, for asking this stranger for his time when he was working. Of course he didn’t want to come into your room and share a meal. “No, I understand. Thank you for your service.”

Turning to go back into the room, the door was stopped from closing by a large hand, thick fingers curling around the edge of it.

“I want to, mesh’la. Please don’t mistake that.”

“Can- can I ask for your name?” He paused, eyes looking you up and down as he thought over the positives and negatives of providing you with such information.

“It’s Aliit.”

“Aliit…and?”

“Oh, ad’ika.”

Aliit, Ad’ika, and…”

“Cyar’ika.” Your heartbeat hard in in your chest, so much so that you brought a hand to rest over your chest. The foreign language rolling off your tongue with ease despite never encountering it before meeting this man. They were not in Basic, nor any other language you were aware of knowing or being able to speak.

“Aliit, Ad’ika, and Cyar’ika.” You nodded your head at him, small smile gracing your lips despite the ringing still plaguing you. He bids you a good day, the sound of another guard’s footsteps coming down the hall.

The ringing lasts well into the night.

When it doesn’t abate by the next morning, your mother orders the handmaidens to prepare you for a trip to the medical wing, across the palace grounds. Your door was being guarded by a different guard and you worried you made the man from the market uncomfortable. Your heart sunk as you walked alongside a new woman who was in your services.

She was pretty, her hair dark and long, pulled back away from her face by a thin headscarf of dark blue. Her dress was a light sky blue, accents of the darker shade allowing for her to look beautiful in the ensemble of fabric. Though it didn’t seem like her normal attire, her arms toned and muscled from what had to be years of training and work. Her thighs stocky and thick as they moved underneath the fabric and guided you down the halls and out of the main building. You wondered what turned her to this line of work, if she had been a slave and sold to the palace to work off or cover her debt. You made sure to file the thought away and treat her to lunch each day should she have not much in the other aspects of her life.

The sun shone on her pale skin, and you wondered if she had on some kind of gloss over her plush lips for the glint to them.  

She was pretty and you wanted to let her know. Though after yesterday, you were afraid of being seen as some frivolous princess who didn’t have any friends and needed to turn her attention to those in her service for conversation. Because it was true, you realized with a particularly painful throb of your head, that you didn’t have any friends who had called on you since your accident. Unable to recall if you were a social person before, you resigned yourself to the solitary routine of your life, only meals shared with others in your life.

She was kind, stopping every so often around the grounds as you stopped when the ringing made it hard to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

“I apologize – oh Maker, I don’t even know your name.” You leaned heavily against a stone pillar, head pounding with the incessant ringing. It sounded- at brief moments – like you were surrounding by strong wind, the hush of sand all around so intense or as if you were aboard a ship and flying through the air.

“My name is Cynth, princess.” She was close, close enough to catch you should your balance falter. “It’s okay, though, I’m new, no need to apologize.”

“She doesn’t care what your name is, she’s depending on you to get her to the medical wing, not make small talk.” The other handmaiden interrupted.

“Janae, you know I make a point to know everyone’s names. There’s no need to be so curt.” You lightly reprimanded, wanting everyone to know that you see them as they truly are. Your mother was so short and demanding with the help around the palace, stirring distaste and unease in you that you didn’t want to imitate her. “Please be kind to each other, sometimes that all we have in this universe, is the kindness of those around us. It can be lifesaving, so let’s try a little better, okay?”

“Yes, princess.” Janae bows to you, the fabric of her dress catching the breeze coming through the open corridor.

Moments later, all three of you were entering the medical wing. There was a droid who had to record the time and date of your visit before guiding you to the room you had been in far too much for your liking. Your mother’s perfume was faint, giving away her presence in the examination room. She was vigilant over your recovery, present at any small visit or worry. And you wanted to feel loved and grateful for her worry but it didn’t feel quite so…genuine even if she preached about getting you back to your old self on the daily.

“I-They tell me I had a bad fall, that’s why I don’t really remember anything from before.” You say as the two women helps moves to help you disrobe. But you startle, not liking the sensation of them pulling on your clothing.

“Please, both of you go and enjoy an early dinner. I can manage here by myself.” Cynth quietly ordered, hoping that less people in the room would help to calm you. It was a good judgement call, because as soon as the two nurses left you felt the anxiety skittering over your skin abate. You felt comfortable with her, and she helped you remove the layers of your flowing dress to change into the smock they needed you in to perform their exam and testing.

She was tense, uncomfortable in this setting, nestled in the medical wing alongside you. You could sense it in the cracking of her knuckles as she helped you to shrug on a robe over your undergarments. In the way she watched as a droid came out of the exam room alongside your mother and a man draped in a dark red tunic. Her jaw was clenched as she watched the way you let them guide you into the room they had just come from. The prick of a needle injecting something into your arm already taking effect.

“Cynth, please stay with me? We can get lunch after.”

“Of course, Princess San.”

“Servants are to only use last names when addressing the royal line. Show’s the respect they have for the rulers of the city.” You mothers voice was sharp, a warning simmering low in her words.

“It’s okay.” You slurred as your vision began to fade, edges of everything fuzzy, colors bleeding into each other. “We’re friends, mother.”

“Hush now, darling. You have to keep up the line between servants and your friends are not true if they haven’t come to visit you. We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, mother. My…friend,” At an encouraging smile at the edge of her lips you turned back to your mother. “Cynth is my friend, and I would like for her to remain with me during the day.”

Pursing her lips, she looked like she wanted to contest the request. Refraining from doing so, her lips turned up in a saccharine smile before she ushered you through the doorway into the exam room.

It was expansive, a giant machine taking up one half of the room, a set of three beds lining the other. Cabinets of supplies and a small desk with an electronic bank set up before it.

But the machine, was a blur, the contents of whatever she had administered taking hold fast.  The last thing you recall is glancing over your shoulder over at Cynth and seeing her features morph into a stone caste, eyes hard.

“It’s worse than we thought.” Cara announced as she entered the servants’ quarters. There was an entire wing for them on the second floor of the palace. Dining room, kitchen, ballrooms and throne room all on the first floor. Library and green house rooms, the seamstress and many other “service” rooms set up on the third. The fourth was the bath house and other rooms they had been forbade from approaching. The family bedrooms on the fifth floor, balconies in each one. The medical wing was across the courtyard, outdoor hallways lined with covers supported by thick stone pillars.

Her and Din being assigned to one room with twin cots on opposite walls. Hired at the same time and kept on close tabs during the ‘review process’ to determine where they were to be stationed for their contracts. It had been easy enough, the palace needing to fill holes in security at the behest of your mother. Din had offered his services as a close guard for you, citing that he had experience with protecting high standing individuals. Cara had been automatically assigned to be a handmaiden, you dismissing one earlier that week for some reason that went unexplained.

Din looked up from where he was tending to ad’ika, the small being agitated beyond comforting. As if he could sense you were close by but too far for him to see and interact with. He missed you, he craved your calming presence and easy going care for him, Din suspected. He knows he did, the you before the manipulation, before the kidnapping, before he had gone and fucked it all up and allowed for this to happen to you.

“Her mother’s found and employed an ex-Empire director, they’ve constructed a mind flayer in the medical wing.  San undergoes ‘exams’ twice a month under the close supervision of two nurse droids and the director.” Cara took in the way Din stiffened, his mind going over everything he knew of such machines only rumored to be still in operation. Of the atrocities committed in the name of getting back to a peaceful time of before the Empire’s rule by using the very same technology they had invented.

“Did her mother stay in the room?” His distaste bordering on hatred marring his words, giving away his feelings of the woman who dared to call herself your guardian and caretaker these days. He never thought himself capable of unaltered hate, but here he was. He could only go far as to guess it had to do with the same feelings he never expected to feel towards another, of falling for someone as completely as he had done with you. But of course, he had gone and messed everything up. Tainted the happy memories he had allowed himself to create with you after suck a rocky and tentative start after finding you shackled in that compound.

It was only every supposed to be another job, another quarry to collect and deliver. Instead he had found the child, found you. Managing through lack of cognitive thinking and examination of his feelings causing him to return the child only to decimate his professional career and standing in order to right his wrongs. He thought he had learned his lesson, only to repeat it with you.

“No, she left. But she does administer the sedative. I’m sure we can somehow take over those ‘exams’.”

“We have to.” His voice was firm, emotions in check as he moved to sit atop his cot. “We have to stop the sessions, it’s the only way her mind can heal itself and she can remember.”

“I think she’s already beginning to, something about her abilities wearing down the effects of the flayer quicker than her mother can keep up with. She’s complained of a headache since we got here, since she interacted with the kid in the marketplace.”

“Then we need to find a way to have her interact with him more, shift her memory back into place.”

“…she’s so quiet, constantly on alert. Taking stock of everything going on around her. I swear her mind is working more than she’s letting on. She was watching me this morning, almost as if she was trying to figure out if she recognized me from somewhere.” Cara theorizes as she recalls the way you were when she had first met you, back on K’ath.

“She…she said I feel familiar to her.” Din admitted quietly, his heart skipping a beat as he recalled the way you had looked at him. The worry of offending him with your honesty, with your relief of realizing you knew him from the marketplace, of feeling like you were able to ask him things you couldn’t of others.

Stealing glances down each hallway, you make your way through the palace on quiet feet. The only sound to give you away is the hush of your dress layers brushing against your legs. In your hand is lighting agent you had snatched from Prince Cala’s office. The low thrumming of a headache still present after your visit to the medical wing and subsequent night of unconsciousness, though it wasn’t nearly as debilitating as it had been yesterday. With bated breath, you turn into the expansive and lush nursery.

Hiding in a corner, you push on the glass panel of the large windows and breath in the hot, humid air to calm yourself. Reaching into the pouch hidden beneath your layers, you retrieve one of the tabac rolls you had requested from a handmaiden. She had frowned at the way you had asked her to keep it from your mother, but the second you lit the end of it and inhaled, all of your colliding thoughts vanished. It was a guilty pleasure you were sure wouldn’t look good to the public eye. But one you weren’t willing to give up. One you were sure was something from the time before your accident.

Steps that were nearly silent caught your attention and you looked toward the arching doorway, the clear glass paneling of it nearly visible from your hidden spot. A figure was pushing them open, hinges squealing slightly as a familiar voice called out your name.

Sighing, you shifted slightly, giving away your spot hidden among the lush greenery. You dress allowing you to blend in. It was made of a transparent layer of tulle over smooth silk, lighter green than the leaves around you. But the flowers sewn into the fabric allowed you to blend in with those that were blooming among so many of the plants too sensitive to be out in the courtyard, out in the direct heat and sunlight of the unforgiving desert sun.

Allit came into view, his eyes taking in the sight of you looking slightly nervous as you were found out smoking in a room that you definitely should not be. But it was the only one your mother wouldn’t follow you into, the perfumes of the flowers too much for her sensitive nose.

 “Apologies, I thought I heard someone in here but it’s an odd hour for me to be up an about. Instincts took over.” He motions to the sleeping form in his arms before setting ad’ika down atop a bench. You feel for him, how tired he must be from watching the child during the day and then standing guard all night.

“I could, I mean, if you don’t-“ You cut yourself off, knowing it was a breech of the already muddled professional line between you both. Instead, you take another drag of the tabac before putting out the inch remaining from the roll and depositing it into an empty planter under the window sill.

“What is it, mesh’la?” His eyes find yours, genuine curiosity swirling in them as he approached you.

“I could watch him for you, if you’re okay with that. I know how tiring the night shift must be. Gives you a chance to rest in the mornings and gives me a little company.” Embarrassment at the care your exhibiting prickles the hairs on the back of your neck on along your arms swathed in sheer fabric. If you were being completely honest, you needed a distraction from the routine of your life. Wanting to feel like you were doing something, helping someone. The company of the child something you had been thinking about after a few passing interactions.

“I think…he would like that.”

“Make sure he has a balanced breakfast and enough entertainment to sleep soundly in the evenings.”

“He’d like that too.”

“And you?”

His eyes bore into yours, something in them that trapped the breath in your throat and your fingers itch to reach out.

“I’d like that very much.”

You feel the urge to reach out and pull him to you, he’s already so close. His broad body angled towards you, his eyes locked on your form, as if he’s seeing the skin hidden beneath the layers. Anticipation titters through you as you see the faint movement of his jaw twitching beneath the fabric draped over his face. Without realizing it, you had reached out, fingers skimming the outline of his cheek hidden from view. His eyes fluttered shut, his own hand coming up to gently clasp over your wrist. Though he made no move to step away or remove your hand.

“Apologies,” You jerk your fingers away, aware that he was not yours to touch, his skin not yours to caress your fingers over, his lips not yours to kiss. He belonged to another and so did you.

“You don’t have to apologize, mesh’la.”

“I-I feel like I know you, but I…I don’t and you belong to another.” You step back from him, the leaves of the leaves all around hushing as you did so. But he follows, step for step until your back is against the wall. But you don’t feel caged in or uncomfortable. You feel desire swirl in your middle, heat thrum just under your skin. He’s closer than he had been before, his chest flush with yours and his hands holding yours down by your waist, fingers tangled together. His eyes are sparkling when they meet yours, the brown of them lit up from the sun shining in through the large windows.

Your breath catches in your throat, nerves alight and you feel like you were floating.

“I do and I do not.” He says cryptically. But you have no chance to decipher the meaning behind his words as the bright jingle of your handmaiden’s bracelets float into the room from the hall.

“Princess? Your bath has been drawn if you wish to get ready for bed.” Her voice calls into the room, unable to see you hidden among the plants. With a lingering look, you separate from Aliit and make your way towards the door.

“Princess Cala, your mother and fiancé have made it very clear that you are not to be left alone. Especially in a place as vulnerable as the bath house.” Janea was trying not to overstep her place, but she was doing her best to uphold the orders she had been given.

“I’ll be fine, I just need a moment to myself. Please understand.”

“I would feel better if there was a guard just inside the door, the tapestries will keep you hidden.” The visceral urge to demand she leave and drop the subject was strong and you choked down the harsh words before they burst from your lips. The thought of someone being in the same room with you as you disrobe and bathe not settling well with you at all. Instincts flaring and the urge to fight making your muscles tense.

“I can call on Sir Aliit? I know you feel comfortable with him, he would never hurt you or put you in harm’s way.” Something flared in your chest- nervousness, excitement, at the thought of Aliit being close by. Of the man keeping an eye out for you while you were at your most vulnerable.

“He’s the night guard, it’s still too early for his shift.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, Princess. He is dutiful and committed to keeping you safe.” Cynth spoke up, having been waiting at the entrance of the room for you.

“O-okay, call on him then. Please.”

Moments later, the quiet steps of the man can be heard in the hallway accompanied by the soft, incoherent babbling of his child.

“I’m sorry, he wasn’t quite ready for bed.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” You lilt, reaching for the wiggling figure in his grip. Cooing softly, the child began to giggle at the tresses of your loose hair, reaching to wrap his fingers in them. Small face buried in your neck his muffled sounds still lift into the air. “He’s just a lil fussy, nothing a warm bath won’t fix. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, that’s not nece-“

“I don’t mind, I said I’d offer to help with him. It must be hard caring for him all on your own.” You smile at Aliit, taking note of the hands he had been stretching to collect his child back. Off to the side, Cynth is taking in the scene with a quirk of her lips. Having taken over watching you while Janae had gone to fetch the guard you were beginning to think of more than was appropriate.

Steam fills the expansive room, ornate stone walls covered in glittering and shimmering tapestries. The rich neutral tones highlighted by sapphire blues, bright turquoise, and deep oranges of tiles set in mesmerizing designs along the lips and edges of the large bath. It could easily fit four to five people, more of a sauna than a typical refresher. But it was peaceful in the room, even if you were hyper aware of the stoic form of Aliit on the other side of the cloth wall where a few tapestries had been drawn closed.

Ad’ika is gurgling away happily as you lower his small body into the water. It was a little too deep for him, but you had found a small floating cushion for him that was working as a makeshift raft for him to sit atop and be submerged up to his belly button. One of his little three fingered claws was wrapped around your arm and you felt the same energy from the marketplace flow into you. But instead of overwhelming you, it made you feel calm and collected. Centered.

You feel…comfortable around him despite not being too fond of children. And then there was his father.

Allit made you feel so much more like yourself, even despite being a little unaware of who that might be exactly. More so than anyone else in your constructed life, more so than Prince Cala. Something that sits in the forefront of your mind as the days drag on and your memory remains foggy. You were glad for him, even if he was a new addition to the routine and frankly, boring agenda your life was structured around. The man was tall, silent. Easy strength and skill obvious in his every move, in the velvet of his deep voice, the warmth of his eyes. But it didn’t unnerve you like the other guards, who seemed to be watching your every move. The hint of hidden directives underlying their attention and postings.

But Aliit…he was willing to converse with you. To allow you to speak with him as an equal without pointing out that it was unbecoming of royalty to do so. He answered your questions, and you could sense he had some of his own, sometimes letting them slip from the lips you wish you could see beneath the fabric covering his mouth. Masks weren’t part of the uniform, but he constantly had one in place. It was both comforting to know he was confident enough to feel like he could continue to bear it, and if you were honest…it was a little thrilling to find that he was willing to open up to you despite it.

The front of the room had cushioned benches, even a table filled with sweets and dips partnered with flat breads. Almost as if it were a living room or lounge room to idle in. But you had ignored it to delve further into the room. The bath was set up along the back wall, the right lined with shower heads resembling ferocious animal heads, mouths open in roars to allow for the water to flow from them.

Busing yourself with lathering up a loofa, you smiled down at the giggling child. He was so happy, so easy to please. Unbridled joy easy to draw from him as you had offered him to smell each of the bathing oil and soap options until he had liked one. He picked a lightly floral scent, one that reminded you of blooming trees from the time of before your accident. A rich, woodsy scent with the underlying current of it.

Once you were sure he was scrubbed clean, his laughter at the tickling sensation making warmth bloom in your chest, you wished for this to be your life. To spend your days with the child and his father, as if this was a normal occurrence for the trio you made. Taking pleasure in the small things, in the calm of a daily routine.

Rinsing him off in the bath, you wrapped him in a towel. Sending him to sit atop a stone bench a few feet from the baths edge, you began to lather up a second loofa with the same soap. Once you were covered in suds, you stood from the water. Stepping over the edge, a jolt of pain made you lose your balance, and you knocked over the bottle of soap as you tried to catch yourself.

“San?” Allit was suddenly pulling back the colorful tapestries that divided the room. You stilled as you were hunched over and reaching for the bottle where it had sunk to the bottom of the bath. His eyes widened just a fraction at the sight of your skin on display, bubbles covering very little from view. Arousal throbbed deep in your middle, tingling across your heated skin at the brief feeling of his eyes roving over your skin.

Your stomach jolted at the idea of him seeing you, his eyes taking in the scene before him.

“Apologies!” He choked out before receding back a little and facing away from you, though he didn’t disappear from view. “I thought, I was just checking to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m-yes, of course. Just- yes.” You stuttered, unsure where the sudden feeling of arousal had come from, of why him seeing you in nothing hadn’t ignited the same sense of fear and instinct to fight as the mere intention of your handmaiden’s helping you to disrobe. “We’re both okay, just knocked something over.”

“Copy that, yeah.” His voice so smooth as it washed over you. “I’ll…leave you to it, then.”

And he was gone, leaving you in that same hunched over position. Your heart was beating quickly, blood rushing in your ears, body alight with tingling arousal. With a sigh, you berated yourself for the sudden feelings as your hand wrapped around the bottle and put it back in the little basket with the rest of the soaps and oils.

“I demand to see my fiancé!” A booming voice could be heard in the back of the bath. The hush of conversation following the shout drowned out by the running of water as you washed off in one of the stalls. Ad’ika was wrapped in a towel, sitting half asleep and waiting for you to redress him. Wrapping your own towel around your damp body, you drew back the fabric enclosing the stall only to come face to face with both Aliit and Prince Cala. Both had crossed the threshold into the marbled portion of the bath.

“Oh!”

“My dear princess, your guard needs to be informed he is to break your requests in favor of mine. If I wish to see you, I am able to despite you saying you wish to not be disturbed.” He didn’t offer apologies for intruding on your privacy, bouldering his way further into the room despite the glare being aimed at him from beneath thick brows.

“Y-yes, my heart. I-I apologize.” Tightening the hold of the towel around your body, you were hyperaware of this being the most exposed you had been in front of the man who was to be your husband. It didn’t stir any feelings of excitement or arousal in you, instead you felt nausea rise to prickle your skin in an uncomfortable chill.

“You are not to be left alone under any circumstances, do you hear me?” The man stepped forward, his hand reaching for your bare shoulder. You ignored the urge to back away from him, aware of Aliit watching the scene unfold just a few steps behind him, of the energy flowing from him as he obviouslt disagreed with the way things were unfolding. Cala didn’t seem to mind the gaze of the other man as he stepped up to you, hand snaking around your shoulders while his other slipped underneath your towel to grasp at your bare waist. Eyes downcast, you let him touch you. He hadn’t raised a hand to you or given you reason to think he would harm you.

“Even if you are bathing, a guard or handmaiden is to be within viewing range. I don’t care if he’s to see you, you are far too fragile to be left to your own devices.” Humiliation floods you, heating you too much to bear as the steam of the room and the hot water of the bath begins to stifle you. You choke on a response, eyes downcast as you can’t bring yourself to look up from the stone floor. But he didn’t like that, the way you were stuck and unresponsive. “You look at me when I speak to you.”

“Y-yes, sir.” You brought your gaze up to his face, glancing behind his shoulder at the other man before focusing on your intended’s eyes. “I apologize for-“

“You are to dress and go to my quarters.” His hand slid down your damp skin, fingers brushing against the thatch of hair over your most intimate area. You gasped out, he had never even so much as kissed you unprompted. And even then, it was always chaste. But this side of him…it was bound to come to light, he was a man after all and you were to be his. His eyes dilated at the feel of your silken folds as his fingers skimmed over your skin.

“Yes, s-sir.”

“Ensure she dresses appropriately, guard. Maker, I don’t care if you have to force the clothing onto her, she should look fitting for the night ahead of her.” He cocked his head to the side at the resounding silence of the room, tension so thick it was only adding to the overwhelming heat. Dark eyes narrowing, Cala’s grip tightened, bordering on almost painful as he demanded an answer. “Guard, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Came the quick reply from the man behind him. Voice devoid of all emotion, velvet given way to gravel.

Smirking in satisfaction, Cala moved in a rather harsh swipe of his fingers up through your folds, catching on the hood of your cunt. You couldn’t tamp down the startled cry as the tips of them brushed over your clit, more painful than scintillating. Before you could even register the move, he was turning away from you and stomping out the door.

He delivered one last command over his shoulder.

“There are wrapped presents that have been delivered to your closet. Dress her from one of those, I expect to see you in less than an hour.”

The second the door shut at the front of the room, your knees gave out and you found yourself crumbling to the ground. Strong arms softened the blow, cradling you close to a sturdy body, keeping your towel wrapped around your trembling body. Humiliation overwhelmed you, anxiety rising something awful in you as you sunk into the warmth of the body holding you close. He didn’t stir anything in you, his touch comforting and tight around you.

“I’ve got you, mesh’la.” Allit’s deep voice soothed as he pulled you to him, body so close and encasing you. But you didn’t feel trapped or caged, you felt comforted by his closeness. You opened your mouth to assure him you were okay, but a wet hiccup was what fell from your lips.

Time passes and your memory still does not return. You’ve resigned yourself to this choreographed dance of your life. Breakfast with your mother, who tends to watch you so closely you feel like a creature on display. She bids you a good day before going about her business, something she claims is left over from your lives before you got entangled with the prince of the planet’s sole city. She had yet to allow you to share in her work, her craftmanship of forging armor pieces of chainmail. You often felt restless, thinking the act of participating would help to sooth you, help you to focus.

You dream of making pieces of armor, of donning others. The smooth metal cool underneath your fingertips eliciting both mundane things and…rather debauched thoughts of a large body pulling pleasure from you as easy as breathing.

You occupy yourself with walks through the gardens, of watching over Aliit’s child during the day before handing off the tiny creature who could barely keep his eyes open to the man before joining your intended for dinner. A nightcap with your mother, often tea since she insisted caf before sleeping was bad for your condition. But it was the stolen moments with Cynth and Aliit that you looked forward to the most.

The handmaiden often accompanying you during your walks, soft conversations of her time before being employed by the palace. Of the things she’s lived and endured. You feel very close with her, almost friendly with her as you often share lunch.

Aliit often gave in to your requests for him to sit in the lounge area of your room or out on the balcony in the late hours of the night. Sleep evading you as surreal and vivid dreams plagued you, making it hard to lay back down once you were waking from them with gasping breath and confusing thoughts.

You don’t dwell on the happenings of the night Cala demanded of you. He hadn’t touched you, not beyond his harsh and brash show of possession in the bath house. But the things he had said to you and the way he demanded you touch him had been something you hadn’t wanted. His once chaste kisses turning into his tongue breaking the seal of your lips as he bid you goodnight at the end of each dinner as he dropped you off at your bedroom door. It all felt like a show, a way to display his possession of you to the man who was your night guard. But despite his now harsh kisses that stole your breath in the worst way, you worried for Aliit having to witness the behavior. It had been…something you didn’t like to think about.

It was definitely something you didn’t talk about. With anyone.

The only consolation was that your headaches seemed to abate, the ringing in your ears no longer springing up at random moments. Despite being your night guard, Aliit was now a prominent figure that accompanied you to each visit to the medical wing. They were still as foggy as the memories of your time before the accident, but you felt something shift inside. Mind no longer seeming to work in overdrive to recall things, errant memories of traveling to unknown places alongside faintly familiar figures becoming something you felt throughout the days. 

You were consumed by the mere thought of Aliit on the other side of your bedroom door. He often started the night off inside the room, heeding the orders of Prince Cala. Though he often stepped outside once you fell asleep, the door right behind him should he need to retreat at the sound of footsteps to keep up appearances. He was always so serious, so still. Never moving at the errant sounds of the palace. Of the other guards doing their rounds within the many halls. Always on alert, though his eyes hardly moved to give it away.

“I know it’s late,” You started to say as you opened the bedroom door. Aliit was immediately turning to face you, his hands clasped behind his back. “But do you want to come in for some tea?”

“Of course, mesh’la.”

He busied himself readying the tea in the small nook that housed a hotplate and a kettle, giving you a moment of peace to gather yourself from your most recent almost waking dream. You had been in a different desert, at a different time. Alone. It hadn’t been anything spectacular, you had simply been living out a day with a routine that felt like it had once been your reality.

“Can I be honest with you, since we’ve…bonded over our shared time?”

“You can share anything with me and I’ll listen, mesh’la.” His voice, his words always so sincere with you, it caused warmth to flare in your chest. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating voicing the thoughts that had been consuming you lately. The twice a month check ups having been unsupervised by your mother, Aliit and Cynth taking over those duties. Ever since they had entered the palace you felt…like something was off kilter. But you also felt like… some things were beginning to shift into focus.

You recalled the feeling of heat from a different desert, from a different time in your life. The same from so many of your dreams. Countered by the plush landscape ripe with trees and temperate air. Dreams that felt all too real consumed your sleeping hours, a blurry figure swathed in shining metal beginning to appear beside you in each one.

And while you didn’t know why or how, you began to associate the same sense of calm and comfortability the figure stirred in you with that of Aliit beside you more and more. You let your eyes wander over his seated form now, beside you in the small longue area across from your bed. The room was still far too expansive, making you feel like a bird trapped in a gilded cage as your mother prohibited you from leaving the palace grounds more and more as the wedding loomed near.

“I…I don’t feel like this is my life. I feel like I belong somewhere else, with someone else.”

His eyes soften, the brown of them comforting as they watch you struggle to find the right words. You don’t feel as if he is waiting for something, like so many others you interact with. He seems to hold genuine interest in what you have to say, never glossing over anything even if it seems childish or meaningless.

“I can’t explain it, it just feels like…there’s something more for me. And I know I should be happy here, it’s a beautiful planet, the stars are so bright at night, the ocean is so clear. Anything I need is just a request away, my intended is very attentive and wants for me to have nothing. Even if he’s…altered the way we spend some of our time together. My mother, she cares for me despite my memory of her being foggy. But…Maker, I feel like this is all wrong. Like I belong somewhere else that I can’t recall. That the person meant to be beside me…is someone else. And I feel homesick for the things I can’t remember. For the lands and planets I see in my dreams. For the figure beside me in each and every one.”  

You can sense that he has something to say, but he remains quiet. His eyes the only thing speaking in the comfortable silence of your bedroom. Too many words and thoughts swirling behind the chocolate depths as they regard you. He only offers them and a hand for you to reach out to, sliding your fingers between his and reveling in the warmth of his skin against yours. After a long while, his soothing voice comforts you in a way that takes your breath away.

“We’ll get you back to feeling like yourself, where you belong. I swear it to you, mesh’la.” He shifted from his own chair to sit atop the low table, heights almost matched now. He leaned forward, but you didn’t shy away from him, giving into the moment when he pressed his clothed forehead to yours. Breath hitching, your eyes fluttered shut, unable to take in the emotions swirling behind his beautiful eyes as they caught the lanterns light. He felt…he felt familiar. More like the shape of the man you had been feeling when you first woke up, though you knew it to be a trick of your imagination. How could you possible feel such a connection with a stranger you had only met after your accident when your memory was something hidden deep inside of you or gone altogether?

“Th-thank you, ner kar’ta.” The foreign words falling from your lips surprise you as much as they seem to do him. You repeat them in a questioning tone, his hand tightening around yours. Your eyes flew open, gentle sentiment behind the words not lost on you in that moment. Hope was shining in the man’s eyes, so close…even as he leans back to look you over.

“Do you know what that means?” You could tell that he holds back other questions, other concerns as he regards you with a hardness behind his eyes. But it isn’t aimed at you, the ire you see flare up in their depths. It’s never for you, the things you see flicker in them. He only ever offers you the softest version of himself. Enough so that Cynth has begun to tease you of it during your time together during the day.

“I-I think it means ‘my heart’.” You hesitate, feeling like it’s far too intimate a sentiment for someone who is not your intended. But you feel it, in the very depths of your soul, that it is okay to call the man sitting beside you so.

“It does.” He almost sounds proud and you rather like the tone coming from him. It stirs something low in your stomach, almost as strong as that once occurrence of arousal before everything shifted between you Prince Cala.

“I don’t know why I said that, I don’t…even know what language that is. How-“

“Ner kar’ta, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” His eyes don’t leave yours, filling you up with something you don’t think you’ve ever felt, fragmented memory seeming to stitch together at the flash of emotion. Suddenly, you feel the gentle breeze and cresting sunlight and you’re standing in the midst of an open field. A figure is standing before you, decked head to toe in beautiful, shining armor with their hands held out in front of them in a placating manner. The silver swathed figure from your dreams in full focus now as you hold Aliit’s hand in yours. Fingers feeling the warmth of him as they caress his skin, the energy from him that is so soothing. Behind him is the shadow of a large ship and you long to be back there in that moment even as it feels both hauntingly foreign and familiar to you.

“What is going on here? You’re supposed to be at your post protecting my daughter.” The harsh voice of your mother surges into the room from the now open doorway. You spring from the man beside you, heart beating harshly in your chest, a barrage of emotions flaring in you. The rattling of the fine porcelain on the low table separating you startling you. Your eyes move from the vibrating cups and plates to the man beside you, and then to the glaring and obviously upset form of your mother.

“He’s following the orders of Prince Cala, who explicitly stated that I am to be supervised at all times, mother.”

“I highly doubt the prince instructed this man to dote such attention on you to the point of holding your hand in the middle of the night!”

Anger and distaste for the woman across from you flares hot over your entire body, energy igniting inside of you that feels both far too familiar and far too foreign. The very same energy you had been feeling more and more in the things and people around you, almost as if it was a secondary thing to breathing, to existing. The glare marring her features twists in your mind and you feel the weight of heavy metal around your wrists, your ankles, your neck. You feel the phantom dredge of something chemical buzzing in your veins and you know- you know that she’s the cause for such sensations.

“I want to know exact details of my accident.” You demand, aware of Aliit standing at attention behind you, his muscles tense just as yours are. Though you do not fear him, you fear the woman who calls herself your mother. Pushing through, you meet her eyes with your own and something in your own expression surprises her. Feeding off of that genuine reaction, not something that seems so calculated, you demand of her, “I want to know what happened to me.”

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[mgparker]

the bodyguard- din djarin

din djarin x f!royal!reader

summary: the princess makes it her mission to know what’s really behind that rigid suit of beskar.

warnings: fluff, mando/princess bonding, nothing crazy happens tbh, hopefully not too ooc, unedited as fuck

<<last chapter! | masterlist!

ੈ✩‧₊˚. iii. a suspect *.ੈ✩‧₊˚.

You step out of your meeting with a relieved sigh, resting your forehead against your palm, leaning back against the double doors of the great hall.

Inside, you could hear the Council quietly disputing their next topic of concern, some trade with a far-off planet.

Between your fingers, you see the Mandalorian standing a small distance away. Straight with a hand on his belt, dutifully aware.

“You didn’t tell Phex about the other night, thank you,” you tell him gratefully.

The Mandalorian nods as always.

You take the lead, breezing past him and heading through the passageway. It held large open windows, from which you could see the village and your people.

A child suddenly stops with a bucket of water, staring right at you with wide eyes and you give him a graceful smile.

Then you make a show of waving in a very childish manner.

It was unladylike of you, but it made the child wave back with triple the enthusiasm. A wide toothy smile on his young face.

He tugs on the dress of who you assume belongs to his guardian. The woman looks down before following his little pointer finger to you. Her eyes widen just as the little boy’s did and she instantly drops into a curtsy.

You nod your head softly, still smiling.

A hand on the base of your spine makes you jump and tear your eyes away from the village. You almost glance behind you but a voice speaks close to your ear.

You freeze.

“Your Highness, we should keep going.”

A flash of irritation makes you purse your lips. But you do as the Mandalorian says, the spot where his hand was touching you beginning to burn.

Your cheeks feel warm, not used to physical touch from anyone in this way.

Maker, you feel delusional.

“Why must you usher me away from my people?” You ask hotly, as soon as he shuts the door to your quarters.

“I—”

In a very uncharacteristic manner, the Mandalorian suddenly stumbles over his words. Seemingly looking for an excuse.

Eyebrows knitting together, you attempt to put two and two together.

“Do you… do you have a suspect? Is that why you don’t want me lingering around others?”

He’s silent.

“You believe it’s one of my people? But why—?”

“I have many names to cross before I can determine who wishes to inflict harm upon you. For now, we must take every precaution necessary,” his raspy voice modulator replies. His stance shifts, hip jutting out a bit. You follow the movement despite yourself.

To your surprise, your sharp tongue fails you.

Retreating into your private quarters, you half expect him to follow you but he stays put in the antechamber. In your position by the vanity, you can still see him clearly.

“You know, I don’t really know much about you,” you pick up a journal and pen. “We spend nearly every waking moment together and I don’t even know if you’re human.”

The Mandalorian makes a sound you can only perceive as a huff. “I can assure you we’re both made of the same flesh and bone.”

You can’t spot a single spot of revealed skin on his person. Every inch is covered by beskar or fabric.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’ve heard of few warriors on Mandalore that choose to conceal their faces to any other living being. Do you belong to this group?”

“You mean the Children of the Watch,” he rasps through his modulator. You make your way further into the antechamber, sitting upon the settee. The Mandalorian stands by the foyer.

“Mhm,” you confirm.

“I simply choose to wear my helmet because it makes my work a lot easier. It keeps my identity concealed.”

“Doesn’t it make you stand out more?”

“Does it?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you think this is a trick question to boost his ego.

“I’d say so. I can’t go anywhere without whispers following behind.”

“Maybe they’re about you.”

You shake your head. “Oh, I doubt it. I am to be their queen but I’ve only ever lived in the shadows since-since—”

There’s a heaviness in your gut as you think about your parents. You try your best not to, dismissing any reminder of them so that you can try to maintain a level head.

It upset you too much.

“You said it yourself,” injects the Mandalorian, sensing your struggle. “You’re to be queen soon. You were born to be their ruler. And you’re kind.” He says it as though it’s the most shocking thing above all. “Perhaps too kind.”

“Are you suggesting that a ruler should be cruel to their people?”

“No,” the Mandalorian rasps. “But it can make you more vulnerable. You see the good in people. It can blind you to the bad.”

You eye him for a few moments, wishing you could read any part of him. But it’s like trying to identify feelings in a brick wall.

You think over your response and begin slowly. “I’m aware many rulers across the Galaxy are tyrants. Leaders of their worlds, but terrorists to their people. Like ants under the shadow of a boot. But I refuse to be like that. And if it means there will be more attempts over my head, then I’m glad you’re here.” You sigh. “I won’t change. Not for anyone.”

The Mandalorian is silent for a minute.

“Then maybe you’re what this Republic needs.”

You stare at him, trying to see past that pitch black helmet. You wonder if he truly means what he said, wishing you were better at handling more serious topics like these.

“Don’t say that around Phex,” you joke as you fight off the warmth blossoming in your cheeks at his comment. “He’ll try to rope me into the Senate more than royal duties require.”

There’s a puff of air that catches onto the modulator of his helmet. Like a chuckle.

It makes you smile a bit.

“You’re still upset with the Senator.”

Your smile drops. You briefly wonder how he knew about your ire, before realizing he had heard your confession in the abandoned tower nights ago.

“No. No, I know why he did what he did.” A certain blacksmith had something to do with that. “But you must know I’m not trying to be difficult. I just—all this fuss, it’s rather complicated seeing as I haven’t been harmed... it is those around me that have met the fate Phex believes is intended for me. My last guard still lies in the infirmary and my handmaiden barely survived an attack outside these quarters mere months ago…”

He squares his shoulders. “I’m quite good at my job, Princess.”

“Yes, but don’t you see? I’m not worried about myself,” you urge desperately. The twinges of discomfort are impossible to hide, you want to outright say it but you find yourself too humiliated.

He reads between the lines. “Princess… it’s not your job to worry about me. I’m skilled in every form of hand-to-hand combat, I wield the strongest armor in all the galaxies. There’s few that have gained the upper hand against me. It hasn’t happened in years.”

Something builds in the room. It gets more serious than you would like. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Is that a hint of smugness I sense in you, Mandalorian?” You ask as cheekily as you can manage, trying to ease the tension before it gets more uncomfortable.

He stays silent, as if he hadn’t just said more words to you in the last few minutes than he had in the two weeks since he’d been assigned your protector.

You sigh, a small part of you wants to get him to talk again. “In years?” You try.

The Mandalorian bows his head. “Well, as children, you have to fall before you can learn to stand. In combat, the same applies.”

You fight a scoff. “You haven’t lost since you were a child?”

“In training,” he nods.

You knew of the rumors. The Mandalorian was a formidable force, undefeated in his fights. He had deep scarlet red in his ledger, gushing and flowing from his past. Something you’d only managed to learn about through hushed gossip in the village. Nights, before the threats began, when you would dress in a disguise, hidden beneath layers of cloaks, slowly gliding through the marketplace with sharp eyes and even sharper ears.

Even now, as a work-for-hire bodyguard, the Mandalorian managed to rack up quite a reputation. Hefty in price but matchless in his service.

There’s no one better in the field.

Apparently.

You suppose he’s already proven his skill in tracking, staying hidden in the shadows, keeping a watchful eye on you. But you’ve never seen him fight…

Hopefully, you’d never have to.

The soft glow of the sun catches your attention through your windows. They’re sealed shut again, the rope tied beneath your bed reluctantly discarded but you didn’t want the Mandalorian to watch you more than he did already.

You suddenly remember the journal and pen in your grasp and open the book gently.

Flipping to the next empty page, you scribble a few things you’d discussed with Senator Dameron this morning. It’s important for your future plans once you are crowned…

You don’t realize how long you’ve been writing until your hand begins to ache and your eyes have to squint from the lack of light to your parchment. As if he’d been watching your every single minuscule movement, the Mandalorian suddenly crosses the room and lights a wall torch with a device you hadn’t noticed he had strapped to his arm.

The heat of the flames lick at your skin even from the distance between you… the dusk pulls a yawn from deep within your chest. The long meeting with the Council exhausted you.

You longingly eye your bed and then turn to face the Mandalorian again. He stands there like a statue.

“I think…” you’re hesitant to end this comfortable silence you’ve both fallen into so soon. “I think I’ll retire for the night. I’m exhausted.”

The Mandalorian simply nods.

You stand from the settee and glance around the antechamber. Everything was in place, just as you’ve always left it. Nothing out of the ordinary other than the disarray of pillows from where you’d been sitting for the better part of an hour.

Curiosity got the better of you. “Erm— where do you sleep?”

He’s silent.

You absolutely hate it and you knew you couldn’t go back to the stoic figure of beskar you’d been living with before.

You push again. “Do you sleep?”

“It’s my duty to ensure no harm comes to you, your Highness.”

The heavy weight of guilt settles deep within your gut. You frown at him, feeling quite bad about the fact that he was sacrificing his own well being just because you couldn’t be trusted.

Because of your rebellious nature.

In this entire day, you’ve learned a few things about the Mandalorian. Mostly, that he’s attentive. He thinks, despite the lack of sleep you’ve caused him, that you’re kind. He knows about your ire with the Senator despite the mask you’ve carefully constructed around others… and he was able to decipher the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

Despite the fact that technically he was forced to be with you, he still cares enough to get to know little bits of you.

And you feel a deep desire to know him.

“I won’t be sneaking out in the middle of the night, I can assure you. I won’t be making that silly mistake again,” you try to assuage any doubts he had. You want him to rest.

His stance shifts apprehensively.

You take a few steps closer to him, ignoring the childish temptation to hold out your pinky finger.

“I promise,” you tell him genuinely. “Which is a big deal. I don’t tend to make those.”

And slowly, he seems to relax just a bit, his shoulders falling slightly from where they’d been standing tall. His hand leaving its usual spot on his belt. A small puff of air escaping the modulator of his helmet.

“Feel free to make this room your own,” you motion toward the settee which could expand into a decent sized bed.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

You back up a few steps before spinning around and heading toward your bedroom, only stopping before the archway.

“I wish you a good night. Please do get some rest,” you say genuinely, loosening the ties that held your curtains apart. It separated your private chambers from the rest of your quarters.

“You too, Princess.” There’s a new warmth in his tone even the modulator couldn’t filter out.

Satisfaction blossoms in your chest.

A mischievous thought comes to mind, a perfect way to end your night.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to become a bit more acquainted now? Maybe take off your helmet?” You smirk, half joking.

You keep a cheeky smile on your face so he doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

Surprisingly… he gives you a warm chuckle, full bodied and his chest moves up and down.

You shake your head with a small laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks and ears. The small nerves that came with a new friendship rising in your tummy.

As you shut the curtains and climb into your bed giddily, you don’t fight the elated smile that’s been threatening to spread across your lips all evening.

And it’s only then that you realize how suggestive your comment might’ve sounded to the Mandalorian and you stare at the wall with wide embarrassed eyes. You try to dismiss the thought, hoping he didn’t think anything of it…

Just as you begin to doze off, the small click of beskar echoes from the antechamber, followed by a hiss and then an unfiltered sigh.

Your heart stops, clinging to the sound of your protector’s voice. Or rather the air leaving his lungs.

The raw sound of it sends a chill up your spine.

It replays in your head until you fall asleep.

don’t worry, pals. the next chapter is where the real drama starts. ;)

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@orcasoul @auberosier @mandoloriancookie @starstruckfluff @the-mandawhor1an @theetherealbloom @daisydrew1501 @karoneren @leothecat97 @almaeunice @a-neuromuscular-junction @jamesbuckyburns @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @the-simp-next-door

[tumblr won’t allow me to tag the users crossed out! if i’ve accidentally tagged the wrong user or you don’t wish to be part of this taglist, pls send me a message and i’ll remove you right away!

otherwise, join the taglist here! ]

[syndxlla]

Hey, we will be giving the princess a ‘name’ this next book. It’s still a reader insert and her name is gonna be ambiguous but she has a fake name that she gives to some…allies (cough cough) that they’ll refer to her as. I wanted to come to you guys and see what you were thinking about that name possibly being?

Personally I’m heading towards something like willow or Rowan. Something earthy and whimsical. It won’t be a major plot point but I want to give her more of an identity and honest I’m thinking about de-starwarsing this eventually and actually trying to make it into an original published novel (LOL) so these are the first seeds I’m planting for when its no longer reader insert.

ANYWAYSSSSSS

Willow? Rowan? Ivy? Clover? Florence? Sage?

Any of those tickle your fancy? Any new ideas of your own? Can you see what road I’m going down for vibe?

That’s all! Respond with your thoughts soon cause I be writin’!!!!!

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret ☆

A MANDALORIAN SERIES MASTERLIST

[ COMPLETED ]

✩ a bodyguard!din x princess!reader fic ✩

series summary :

Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.

18+ mdni

do you like kitschy, campy romance novels? if you're reading this, I hope so.

behind the scenes & chapter notes + other extras (spoilers) :

chapters 1-5

chapter 6-15

spotify playlists

Lysa & Elaine information

the bks screen adaption

bks q&a

bks what if's

reader is generally not described past being picked up a few times, and having hair long enough to be put up

✩ chapters containing smut!

chapter one : honeymoon (6.7k words)

[ Absurd.

That is the only word that comes to mind as you stare at yourself in the mirror. “His favorite color is blue.” ]

chapter two : silent treatment (7.4k words)

[ Something is wrong. You bolt up from the pile of blankets that you call a bed and your eyes dart around the closet as you furrow your brow trying to discern why you feel so much different. ]

✩ chapter three : the smitten paladin (4.6k words)

[ You’re starting to think the planet isn’t the reason you’re so hot all the time.

You had woken up this morning feeling a bit better than you thought you’d be, your stomach is full of butterflies but you're still standing and considering the night you had you’re gonna take that as a win. ]

chapter four : sarad'ika (6.8k words)

[ Sarad'ika. 

You won’t forget it this time, you can’t. So you write it in your book, just under Mando’s favorite color you write the two little words that have been keeping you up at night. ]

✩ chapter five : lunar interlude : just a man (5.0k words)

[ Absurd.

It’s absurd how much the job pays. Din’s not even sure he should take it at this point because it’s too good to be true. ]

✩ chapter six : torment (5.1k words)

[ Okay, maybe you didn’t think this through. 

You didn’t think he’d actually come in and now suddenly the door is shut and you’re alone with him. ]

✩ chapter seven : just friends (3.1k words)

[ Maker it feels like it’s been an hour and you’re both just laying here. He was just inside of you; it shouldn't be so hard to find something to talk about at this point. ]

chapter eight : solar markets (5.3k words)

[ It’s nice to wake up excited again. 

You wish you could say that it happened more often but hopefully it will from now on. It’s going to be your first time leaving the castle grounds since you got here. ]

✩ chapter nine : shuk'la rules (5.6k words)

[ You need sex.

Normally you would be satisfied for quite some time after getting off but for some reason with Mando it was different. But it’s only been two days and you need more. ]

✩ chapter ten : lunar interlude : briikase gote'tuur (4.1k words)

[ He’s grateful for the break from you, even if brief. 

That’s not to say that he doesn’t enjoy every moment he gets to be in your presence but the more time he spends with you the harder it gets to remember that this isn’t real. ]

chapter eleven : he loves me not (4.6k words)

[ Something is wrong. 

All day it’s been wrong. 

He’s different. Distant. ]

chapter twelve : pretend (4.4k words )

[ Two days.

That’s what you’re willing to give yourself. Two days to get over it. One to get it all out of your system and one to pull yourself together. ]

chapter thirteen : lunar interlude : vercopa (3.5k words)

[ He did it.

He did exactly what he knew he needed to do.

So why does he feel worse than ever? ]

chapter fourteen : condemned (4.9k words)

[ You’re having trouble sleeping. 

You have no problem falling asleep, it’s mostly staying asleep. There’s a million different things that consume your thoughts and everytime you drift into unconsciousness you find yourself jolting awake, barely able to stay asleep for more than an hour at a time. ]

chapter fifteen : two tea parties (5.4k words)

[ “What did you do to her?”

Her voice breaks through his sleepy haze as he sits up properly. 

“Excuse me?” ]

chapter sixteen : absolution (4.6k words)

[ There’s a visceral sense of dread when you wake up, for several reasons. 

The glaring obvious culprit of your discomfort would be the fact that today’s your husband's birthday. ]

chapter seventeen : the apostate’s cabin (3.5k words)

[ Just Din. 

It’s sinking in as you walk in silence, holding his hand tightly as he pulls you towards his home. ]

chapter eighteen : portrait of a man (5.4k words)

[ It’s deliciously warm when you wake. You can feel his heartbeat and you can feel the soft traces of sunlight dancing along your back. You stretch in his arms slightly but freeze up as you feel him nuzzle his chin into your hair, planting a kiss against your hairline. ]

✩ chapter nineteen : reverence (7.3k words)

[ You really want to. 

You couldn’t possibly want to more than you currently do. 

It’s actually a bit mean. That he’s left you here in this state. ]

✩ chapter twenty : like real people do (8.4k words)

[ Mando and Din. 

All you can think about right now is how there must be two of them. 

You’re playing with his curls. ]

✩ chapter twenty one : te mirci't (9.0k words)

[ “It means I love you.” 

You aren’t entirely sure how long you stare at him, looking rather silly with your jaw practically on the floor. ]

✩ chapter twenty two : it’s you that i lie with (11.3k words)

[ Naboo has several trading ports. 

You could get him on a cargo ship. That would be the most inconspicuous form of transport. It would help if he was willing to ditch his armor. ]

✩ chapter twenty three : lunar markets (15.0k words)

[ Sneaking out of the castle gets easier every time you do it. 

It only takes a few minutes and you’re walking outside towards the forest trail, Din’s hand in yours, still giddy. ]

✩ chapter twenty four : lunar interlude : riduur (7.8k words)

[ He doesn’t deserve this.

How could he possibly be deserving of you? Yet somehow you make him feel as if he is. With your soft touch and the way your eyes get just a little bigger when you see him. ]

✩ chapter twenty five : wedding bells (11.7k words)

[ Four days of Leo. 

You were upset that Din was leaving you but you got over it rather quickly with the promise of his hasty return. ]

chapter twenty six : crucifixion (12.7k words)

[ “My room is too big.” 

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” ]

chapter twenty seven : the apostate (6.0k words)

[ Silence.

That’s all there is in his brain. 

It’s hard enough as is for him to hear. It doesn’t help when he’s been beaten half to death. ]

✩ chapter twenty eight : a place for us (8.4k words)

[ You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him. 

Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on. ]

chapter twenty nine : the best kept secret (epilogue) (6.1k words)

[ The morning sun is warm against your face, you bask in it, unmoving and only half awake until you feel a tiny hand slapping your cheek. The illusion of tranquility is immediately shattered as you softly laugh. ]

[luckbealincoln]

Best Kept Secret (OLD MASTERLIST)

pairing : bodyguard!din djarin x princess!reader

THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!

series summary :

Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.

do you like slow(ish) burn? enemies to lovers? idiots in love? din djarin being head over heels in love? this might be for you if that is the case.

spotify playlists!!

dress inspiration : chapters 1-10!!

ao3 link : ✮⋆｡°✩⋆˙

✩ chapters containing smut!!

chapter one : honeymoon

chapter two : silent treatment

✩ chapter three : the smitten paladin

chapter four : sarad'ika

✩ chapter five : lunar interlude : just a man

✩ chapter six : torment

✩ chapter seven : just friends

chapter eight : solar markets

✩ chapter nine : shuk'la rules

✩ chapter ten : lunar interlude : briikase gote'tuur

chapter eleven : he loves me not

chapter twelve : pretend

chapter thirteen : lunar interlude : vercopa

chapter fourteen : condemned

chapter fifteen : two tea parties

chapter sixteen : absolution

chapter seventeen : the apostate’s cabin

chapter eighteen : portrait of a man

✩ chapter nineteen : reverence

✩ chapter twenty : like real people do

chapter twenty one : te mirci't (coming soon)

chapter twenty two : hide and seek (coming soon)

chapter twenty three : lunar interlude: riduur (coming soon)

chapter twenty four : te vencuyot (coming soon)

chapter twenty five : lunar markets (coming soon)

future unnamed chapters coming soon as well!! ★

[pedroshotwifey]

Din Djarin Fic Recs

5 Times Luke Taught Din How to Use His Mouth & 1 Time Din Taught Luke by CTRL_D on a03 Finished 5 Part Series - Inexperienced Din Djarin x Experienced Luke Skywalker

Best Kept Secret by @lincolndjarin Series (finished!) - Bodyguard!Din Djarin x Princess!Reader

Cherry Liqueur by December_Moon on ao3 One Shot - DaddyDom!Din Djarin x Bratty!Reader

Young Bobadin by @bi-geeky-fanboy Ongoing? Series - Dom!Boba Fett x Sub!Din Djarin (Y'all, omfg I'm obsessed)

Bleed For Me by @saradika Completed Series - Vampire!Din Djarin x AFAB!Reader

push & pull by @sinsofsummers One shot - virgin!din x f!reader - I'm such a sucker for virgin Din it's actually insane

Fear Not The Abyss by @psychedelic-ink One shot - CultLeader!Din Djarin x f!reader

Why do you run, only to let me catch you? by @theywhowriteandknowthings One shot - Din Djarin x reader

Trembling by @multifandomsw Drabble - Din Djarin x Reader This one if mostly just angst but omfg 🤌

A Rite by @magpiepills One shot - Din Djarin x afab!reader

Uncut, Grasp & Tug, and Oral Fixation by @beskarandblasters One shot series - Inexperienced!Din Djarin x GN!reader Y'all, omfg I'm such a sucker for inexperienced Din it's not even funny 😖

Breeding Kink by @ezrasversion One shot - Dom!Din Djarin x f!reader Holy fuck this shit is 🔥 Bonus Drabble (while reader is prego)

Pain For Pleasure by @spacegay-official One shot - Din Djarin x f!reader

Languid by @oliviajdjarin One shot - Din Djarin x fem!reader

Don't Hold Your Breath by @bits-and-babs One shot - Din Djarin x Reader This one's sum special 😩

Din Djarin One Shot by @ourautumn86 One shot - Dom!Din Djarin x sub!fem!reader (s)creaming throughout this entire read

Tight by @frannyzooey One shot - Din djarin x f!reader

Bound by @nununununu on ao3 One shot - Din Djarin x Tentacle creature

UPDATED 12/3/23

[galactic-star-bruiser]

Protected - Din x princess!reader req

@angel-with-a-heart, I LOVE YOU SM... I hope you like it!!

PT.1 pt. 2

sum: Din is hired as your personal bodyguard because you are doing relief work as a princess throughout the galaxy

Being a princess of your home planet sounds like a dream... jewels, wealth, titles, beautiful places.

It was more like a prison.

From the day I was born I was groomed to be nothing but perfect royalty and a princess my planet could take pride in and eventually follow as Queen.

Endless hours of lessons that only ended in chastising comments from my parents were hell to me.

We were going to be traveling for the next few months around different systems on “relief work” that were really just a way for my parents to look good in front of the counsel. Bullshit. 

I argued endlessly with them that I could take care of myself, that I was smart enough and aware enough of my surroundings to defend myself. 

They weren’t having any of it. 

The day the beskar clad man showed up in front of me, towering, unwavering... was the day I wasn’t even aware that my life would change completely.

“This is The Mandalorian that we’ve hired him to essentially be your body guard as we travel”

I scoffed, rolled my eyes, and folded my arms across my chest. 

The man cocked his head to the side and my mother glared at my hostile nature. 

I was sure to get a swift smack for that later. 

I trudged to my room, now strewn with clothes and my belongings that I wanted to pack. 

maybe ill lose them on some planet...run away

I wasn’t a brat... and I wasn’t ungrateful. I knew how good I had it. It just seemed like the pressure had been building ever since I was conceived. 

I didn’t want this. I wanted to be a good daughter with loving parents, I wanted to be able to dress down just one day of my life, I didn’t want to be caught up in wars and politics... but I knew that would never happen for me. I’d just swallow it down and do my due diligence for my planet. 

As I began packing again, I was suddenly snapped out of my own rambling thoughts by the feeling of a presence behind me. 

“Are you serious... you have to follow me everywhere? Gonna watch me shower next?” I spat, my back turned to what I knew to be The Mandalorian. 

I shouldn’t have been so rude... I was just angry. 

“Just following orders, princess” his modulated voice rang back. 

There was a slight pause and amused tone in the way he said princess...interesting.

I huffed and handed him my bag, letting him follow me out the door and onto my family’s ship where he proceeded to take the seat across from me. My parents sat up front in the cockpit like the control freaks they were, barking orders at our poor pilot.

“So... whats your name” I asked, trying to change to a softer tone, it wasn’t his fault I was mad after all.

“You can call me ‘Mando’ if you want, or just refer to me as ‘a Mandalorian’ ”

“You weren’t given a name?”

“It’s not important” he said with a matter of fact tone that ended the conversation completely. 

fine.

“You don’t have to refer to me as princess, ‘ya know. Im sure my parents told you my name.”

“It would be disrespectful to not call you by your title since I only let to you refer to me as mine.”

“Oh....thats fair I guess.”

I couldn’t help but stare at the way his hands flexed or the way his thighs were spread wide, taking up almost three seats in his entirety and the way the hum and rattle of the ship made him shift with every bump... I needed to stop. 

I stumbled a bit as I always did when exiting the ship, cursing myself in the process. 

I reached for stability against the ships exterior, but was met with a gloved hand instead that radiated warmth through it. 

I quickly pulled away after realizing my lingering and thanked him awkwardly which awarded me with a nod from the helmeted man.

[unstoppableforcce]

a lesson ( 1 )

pairing: the Mandalorian x reader

previous part | next part | masterlist

a/n: here’s the next part of the bodyguard series! you know things have begun when they finally meet! more to come !! feedback always encouraged !!

He thought when they said Temor was hot, hotter than Nevarro, that it would be just that, hot.

This was not hot. This was a blazing heat unlike anything he had ever encountered.

He’d been to jungle planets with tree top canopies higher than some mountains he’d come across, he’d been to planets with deserts that stretched on for what felt like parsecs, he’d dealt with hot and he’d dealt with cold. And for the most part, he was an impartial man. But when it came to weather and climate?

If he was being honest, heat was his least favorite, and whatever this was ranked even lower than that.

He could feel sweat beading at his brow beneath the helmet, trailing down a direct line along the edge of his face. It was uncomfortable, nothing he couldn’t handle for the price they were paying, but further from ideal than he ever imagined this mission would be.

And as if the heat wasn’t bad enough, since the second he stepped his heavy boots onto the red rock surface and every step following as he trailed after them on the path into the canyon where the city lay, something felt wrong. The feeling was like the first second of the burn felt when bacta hit a wound, before the comforting cool set in.

Just plain uncomfortable and unsettling.

He just couldn’t shake it.

He could handle the heat, but this was sure to eat away at him before the sweat and dehydration did.

All he could hope was that things would be better once he got a feel for the situation in person, once he met the subject and once he understood what this supposed “civil war” was.

The hike from the Crest was pure desert of red stone, varying shades of crimson and a dust that seemed to spread everywhere, coating every inch of his armor with every dust cloud his steps created. The city up ahead was more packed in sand, a real civilization booming up from the valley between the towering mountains.

Banners of color and ribbons of sparkling metals lined every stall of the central market, making the two-man escort leading him and his equipment through look much more comfortable. They stuck out in the grey tonal designs of the bounty hunter hideout, but here, if he lacked his keen eye, he might’ve lost them in the crowd because they blended so well.

It was beautiful, the spirit of the whole culture splaying out across their civilization. It just all felt slightly wrong.

There were no smiles. Everyone felt so sectioned off from one another in their corners of the market, it looked like a community, it just didn’t feel like one.

He didn’t see war though. Not yet.

“The palace is up ahead.” The bigger of the two men turned back briefly to inform him. “We’ll bring you straight to her and get started.”

He nodded along, adjusting the strap of his pack over his shoulder and picking up the pace. The sooner he got a hold of the situation, the better.

Palace was sort of an understatement though, wasn’t it?

It was a glorious monument built into the side of the red rock mountain but polished stone unlike the dusty buildings in the valley they just passed through. It was as towering as the mountain, gradient in stone to glittering minerals, unlike anything he’d ever seen. No wonder they could invest so heavily in private security.

He just had no idea to expect on the inside.

No surprise it was just as beautifully crafted and decorated within, but it was strangely empty. No staff, no people, nothing.

His fingers itched back to his thigh holster on instinct as a chill, far from congruent with the weather, ran down his spine.

“We got rid of her staff, made small—” The bigger man gestured to his smaller companion as he searched for the words on his tongue.

“Down-sized.”

“Yes, down in size.” He nodded, bringing the group to a stop in the expansive foyer. “We cannot trust anyone we do not bring in from the outside. Like you.”

He nodded, purely out of necessity of their expectant stares.

But then the two of them looked to each other and looked around again, setting him even further on edge if that was even possible.

“She is smart.” The shorter man added. “Don’t underestimate her.”

As much as he wanted to ask what that could possibly be a warning regarding, he didn’t. They turned away and he kept his mouth shut, following them further into the perfect palace.

A few staff wandered around, but no one even dared make eye-contact with the two of them. They clearly had weight in whatever twisted hierarchy ran this planet, that was clear. But besides that, nothing else seemed to be.

Not until they reached the final door, up a few flights of stairs, and they opened it.

They opened it and a watched a man get his throat slit right in front of them.

The Mandalorian jumped to attention without hesitation, pulling his blaster from its holster and scanning the threat.

Except no one else reacted. Neither of the two men by his side seemed to consider it for more than a second.

It wasn’t a threat apparently. It was just a guard.

“Please excuse the blood.” The bigger man said, giving a pat to the hard shoulder cover the Mandalorian wore and walked in straight past him.

“This is...” the shorter man waved his hands nonchalantly, “this is no big deal.”

Yeah, downsizing was one word for what was happening here. He was beginning to realize he wasn’t sure he wanted to learn what word would describe it better.

Not until he saw you. Not until he saw you and became sure he wanted to know everything.

As they described, you seemed quite stuck in the middle of whatever was happening. If the middle could be aptly described as clearly there against your will.

He knew what uncomfortable felt like, with the heat and uncertainty of this planet he would argue he knew it all too well. The sweat dripping down his face and down his back now, the heat boiling him from within, that was uncomfortable.

You looked pained. You looked like you were suffering, and that wasn’t something he said lightly given you sat in an exquisite woven gown of dark green on a chair more embellished than anything he had ever seen. You looked like you had it all, yet you looked more than uncomfortable where you sat.

Where you sat behind the brutal and bloody execution—the poor man wasn’t even dead yet, he just laid there, bleeding out while the two brothers who hired the Mandalorian stepped over his body to reach pat the executioner on the shoulder and approach where you sat.

It was a scene he had no way to understand, and it was still unfolding in front of him.

“This is him. The clan warrior we hired.” The bigger man gestured back to him and he finally holstered his blaster, though, not letting his hand drift too far from it.

Considering him, you stood to your feet and crossed your bare arms over your chest with a sigh.

Exhausted. You sounded exhausted and you hadn’t even spoken.

Then you rattled off quickly in the native language that graced the tongues of everyone around. It wasn’t angry, it was just exhausted in tone, that was all he could make of it so far.

He was going to have to learn that if he was staying. Not understanding, not having control, that wasn’t an option.

“He speaks basic—“

“I wasn’t talking to the helmet.” You quickly corrected your brother before returning to whatever you were saying before.

But whatever you said only prompted the bigger brother to shout back angrily. And whatever he was shouting back, you weren’t having it.

You blew past both brothers, you carefully stepped around the body while pointedly avoiding looking its way, you stalked all the way towards the beskar covered man. And when you got there, you blew past him with even more violence than you did your brothers, hitting shoulder to shoulder, threatening to stumble him off balance if he wasn’t standing so strong. Then you continued on, straight out the door leaving all the men in the room standing in your wake, the Mandalorian included.

“Go after her.”

He reminded himself again, he needed the credits, then moved to follow.

[moon-sang]

Hi can I have a din x reader where maybe she’s a senator or princess from a planet and it’s when he’s on mandalor to become the mandalor and she’s there to help because she is also very knowledgeable about the empire and so she’s helping and what if maybe the reader and him knew each other maybe he was her bodyguard and when he sees her again all the feels of lust and love come up and when he’s chosen to chose a wife he chooses her and maybe smut? If you can’t do it it’s fine I understand thanks

Meshurok ~ Din Djarin x Reader

SUMMARY: After being apart for so long, Din finds someone he used to want. What happens when all his feelings for her start to bubble up again?

WARNINGS: 18+ ONLY, smut, unprotected piv (wrap it up), fem!reader, princess!reader, mature langauge, eating out, little bit of an age gap, Pls tell me if I miss anything!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Mandalore was the last place you expected to be.

Everything seemed so....dull. Or maybe that was just because you came from Naboo. You were headed to some building. It was the make-do meeting room for...whoever you were meeting. You were told very little about what you were going to do here. All you knew was you were going to help the new Manda'lor settle into his new title.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Din pondered in the meeting room. He was way too nervous for something as small as this. He was just going to meet with some royals..or senates to help him get started. That's all. The creak of tall doors opening, broke Din out of his trance. They were here. Din quickly stood tall, spread his shoulders wide and let his hands drop to his sides. Now...he was presentable. The first people to come in were soldiers. Much like him they were covered head to toe in some sort of metal. Not beskar. After a few of the guards came in there came in a gir-woman. A woman...he knew. The last time he saw this woman...she was a girl, a 17 year old girl he offered to babysit. But now...Here she stood. Impossibly prettier than the last time he saw her. Her h/c hair framed her face perfectly. The curve of her jaw, the forest of e/c in her orbs, the way she tilts her head up when she laughs, maker everything about her was just perfect to Din. The moment she made eye contact with him, her jaw dropped. Din reflected her action under his helmet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You couldn't believe your eyes. They were deceiving you. There is no way...Din is- The new Manda'lor. You let out a shaky breath as you try your best to look as professional as you can. "Leave us." You command the guards. With a moment's hesitation, they reluctantly leave, marching just outside the thick, closed doors. The both of you say nothing as you approach each other. Once close enough you go in for a deep hug. Of course, you could only reach to about his abdomen, but that didn't matter. Din wrapped his arms around your smaller form and gave you a small squeeze. When you pulled away you whispered to him. "I missed you." The words were warm and heartfelt, and you couldn't wipe off that silly little smile on your face. "Meshurok" Is all he whispers back to you. It was a nickname he had given you soon after he was hired to guard you from....well...escaping the palace. That was a long time ago. The room is quiet after that. He just stared right into your eyes (you think) and his touch lingered on your hips. You decide to break the tension that grew between the two of you by saying. "W-well, should we get started on..you know...becoming the..Manda'lor?" you squeak out. "Yes." Came his response, before he guided you to a seat. He pulled the chair out and waited until you were seated to push it in a little. You silently thank him before adjusting to sit up properly. "Ok...First. You need to do something to get your people's trust on this planet...A true Manda'lor looks out for his people." You explain. Din nods, taking in the information. "How do I do that, princess?" he rumbles. You slightly blush at the nickname. You know you shouldn't, after all, you are a princess. Regardless it makes heat rise to both your cheeks and...your core. "W-ell maybe you can start by asking for their opinion, make like a survey on what they want, and then whatever get the most votes, you order to get done. Or maybe...personally meeting a few people on this planet and just chatting, show how reliable you are, if possible....but then again, you're not really the chatty type are you? I would go with the survey idea, then." You conclude. "Hmph, that's a really good idea." Din ponders. You offer a small smile in return. "And what should I do if I wanted to...fuck you?" Your eyes widen at his words and your breath becomes a little labored. Maker, you would say yes. Your body was almost paralyzed, you couldn't move. "I'm..sorry, I shouldn't have said that." He shyly admits. "Do it." You mumble, loud enough for him to hear. "What?!" He almost yells. "If you want to fuck me...then you do it." A thick silence coaxes the two of you. "A-Are you absolutely sure you want this?" He asked in a hushed tone. "Yes." you breathe out. Then in a blink of an eye, he has you shoved up a wall. You whimper at the force of it, but it only turns you on more. Your eyes were a dark shade of e/c, full of desire and lust. Your clothes are immediately disregarded to the side, piling over each other. It didn't take long for Din to strip out of his armour either. He was now in his flight suit and helmet. "I've wanted this for so long, meshurok." He whispers in your ear, as his bare hands roam over your body. "Me-Me two." You whimper. You moan when his fingers find your nipple and rolls it in between his fingers. The roughness of the skin on his fingers rubbing on the tender flesh of your nipple was enough to send your body into a quivering mess. His other hand trails further down to your core, and you wrap your legs around his waist. Even through the flight suit, you could feel how toned Din was. He cups your sex and you attempt to grind on his hand, but he pulls away as if being burned. "I want you to tell me what you want." He urges. "You-want you." you practically beg. Din doesn't need you to say anymore. He plunges one thick finger into your pussy and your head is thrown back. He starts with a slow pace. Gentle thrusts. Sooner than later he works you into an orgasm. It gave warning before it came. A string of curses and moans leave your mouth as your release washes over you. Din worked you through the whole thing, slowing his pace only slightly, as not to overstimulate you. Din let’s you go and you immediately drop. Of course Din catches you, and picks you up bridal style. “Hey!” You chuckle as you squirm in his arms. Din sits on what was going to soon be his throne and stands you up in front of him, making sure to balance you. “What are you doing?” You ask, curiosity getting the best of you. “Sit.” He orders. His hands hold your hips gently but firmly, as he guides you onto his lap. You gasp as you feel his cock push at your folds, when you start to sit down. “Your safe word is Naboo.” He whispers in your ear, before gently pushing you a little more. His cock was big. Actually...that was an understatement. It was fucking huge. It was long and thick. It stretched you out in the most bittersweet way. It was painful but as you took it inch by inch, the pain slowly faded into pleasure. Finally he reached your cervix. He awaited for you to give him permission to start thrusting. You needed to adjust to him. Din loved the way you felt. Hot, wet, and silky. It was heaven for him. And the way you clenched around him every now and then sent him into overdrive. A small pat on his shoulder signalled he could start to move now. He lifted you slightly off of his lap, waited for a second, and then slammed you down back on him. You gasped and moaned in pure ecstasy. This, was unlike anything you had felt before. He kept going like that. Ramming into you until your second orgasm washed over you without warning. It was so harsh you’re sure you felt your body spasm on top of his. Shortly after he also came. Thick ropes waxed your insides as he grunted and groaned your name. His voice was beautiful. Thick like honey, yet sweet and warm.  

By the end of it all you were a quivering and panting mess on top of him. He caressed your cheek as your head rested in the crook of your neck. “Y’know” He starts. “I think I’m going to need a good queen...if I’m going to get the..peoples trust.” He pants out. Your eyes widen and you can’t help but snap your head up, to look at him. “Will....will you be..my riduur? According to the rules, I must pick one to rule with, and I don’t think I want anyone else...other than you.” He admits almost shyly. His softness and uncertainty was all too much for you. It made your heart melt. “Of course, I’ll be your riduur, Din.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I am sorry I do not think this is my best work, but I hope it’s good enough XD

Anyway, as always if you want anything changed just msg me and I can make a change but I ONLY do it once so make sure you add everything that you wanted changed into one msg. 

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed. 

[ladyxskywalker]

OCT 2022 (part one)

fandoms featured on this list: star wars, rogue one/andor, moon knight

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thank you to the amazing fic writers for sharing some wonderful stories with all of us ! & to the kind readers for their support. 💙

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✨ new authors & characters added for the first time !

✨ some authors are mentioned more than once throughout the list, check to see if your works are there !

STAR WARS

✨ Anakin Skywalker

Disassembly (series) by ohgodmyeyes on ao3 (anakin skywalker, luke skywalker, f!reader) **

Locks of Hair & Heartstrings by @laserbrains (gn!reader) *

✨ Boba Fett

Glove Kink by @flightlessangelwings

✨ Din Djarin

Breathless by @lightsinthedistancee

Cuyan (series) by @againstacecilia (f!reader) **

Finding You Asleep With Grogu @archieimagines

In the Dark by @startrekkingaroundasgard (bodyguard au)

Make a Choice by @a-reader-and-a-writer (whumptober)

Shatter Me (series) by @writeforfandoms (f!reader)

Set Alight by @ezrasbirdie (din djarin & cobb vanth, f!reader) **

Too Much and Not Enough by @lowlights (victorian au, forbidden relationship) (gardener!din) (f!reader) **

✨ Leia Organa

sand in the gears of time by Pontmercyingtilthecowscomehome on ao3 (cassian andor x princess leia)

the duty of Rebellion by storiesmadeofstars on ao3 (cassian andor & princess leia)

we are a woven thread, find the strand by averita on ao3 (han solo x princess leia)

✨ Obi Wan Kenobi

A Pearl by anonymous on ao3 (f!reader) **

Goodbye by @tropodyn (f!reader)

Helping Obi Wan Kenobi in a Space Battle by @where-dreamers-go

Inclinations by @obiknights (obi wan) (old ben kenobi) (cw: age gap) (f!reader) **

Lessons in Love (series) by @just-dreaming-marvel (modern au) (mutual pining) (teacher!obi) (teacher!arthritic!f!reader)

Like a Living Mirage by @hellotherekenobi

Nightswimming by @obiknights (obi wan’s pov) (cw: age gap) (f!reader) **

Our Lips Are Sealed by @obiknights (cw: age gap) (f!reader) **

Serve My Worries Away by @friskynotebook (prof!obi wan) (librarian!reader) (modern au) (asian, plus size, f!reader)

Solace by @pickleprickle (f!reader) *

Stranded (series) by @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories (ofc) **

The More I See You by Redminibike1 on ao3 (codywan)

✨ Poe Dameron

Breath Play / Missionary by @againstacecilia (f!reader) **

Checking on Poe Before You Had to Leave For A Mission by @where-dreamers-go

Dead End by @a-reader-and-a-writer (cw: angst, implied death)

Rose by @dailyreverie

Poe Having a Team Go with Him to Rescue You, Regardless of Orders by @where-dreamers-go

Pumpkin Spice and Hazelnut by @huffle-pissed

✨ Qui Gon Jinn

The First Star to Fade by @wickedscribbles (ofc) *

ROGUE ONE / ANDOR

✨ Bodhi Rook

Bitter Rain by @waterpancakeao3, waterpancake on ao3 (f!reader) **

Tender Sex with Bodhi Rook by @samspenandsword (f!reader) **

✨ Cassian Andor

Cassian's Kisses Before Work by @archieimagines

Cassian Surviving to Hear About Your Pregnancy by @archieimagines (cw: pregnancy, grief)

Finally by @archieimagines

Having You Here Is Enough by @kyber-hearted (f!reader) (deactivated :( !)

Home by @uwingdispatch (cw: ptsd, chronic illness, alcohol mention, implied intimacy) (disabled reader) *

Pretty Words by @chosigue (gn!reader) *

MOON KNIGHT

Standing Up For Cassian’s Character on Aldhani by @archieimagines (andor series)

Through the Wall by @miraclesabound (andor series)

✨ Marc Spector

Kinktober, Dirty Talk by @flightlessangelwings (f!reader) **

✨ Steven Grant

Getting Lost in a Good Book by @dailyreverie (gn!reader)

Going to a Halloween Festival with Steven Grant by @where-dreamers-go

Museum Nights by @dailyreverie

Selling Steven His Goldfish by @archieimagines

** be sure to check out part two for more monthly fic recs including triple frontier, pedro pascal characters, multi fandom

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[lahooozaherr]

I Will Always Find You

Chapter 6

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence (but not descriptive), anxiety, reader is lifted once because of Rising Phoenix, angst, yearning, as always please feel welcome to let me know if I missed anything 🫶🏻

MY WORKS ARE 18+ AND NOT FOR MINORS. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.

My Tag List (instructions & requirements)

Chapter Summary: Din locates and rescues from your captors, just in time. With the two of you finally reunited, you quickly return to the Razorcrest where Din sets coordinates for the safe location provided by your father. You feel a wild mix of emotions over it all, from relief to fatigue. When it seems you’re about to tell him something very important, you make it to the planet of your childhood friend.

A/N: I’m back!! Kinda?? I’ve been here but I haven’t been in the headspace to write this. I’ve been processing a lot of grief. I know I shouldn’t apologize or beat myself up for taking so long so I just appreciate anyone who’s still interested in my little self indulgent story. There were times I tried to work on it but then I’d remember plot holes or things I haven’t quite figured out yet, so please bear with me. This chapter isn’t TOO exciting, mainly because this next one is going to be beefy, the one I’ve been really really working up to. I hope y’all enjoy it!

Song Inspo: Hero by Alan Walker & Sasha Alex Sloan

Inspo Playlist

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Read it on AO3

Present Day

Some time had passed since you were blindfolded and binders were applied to your wrists. The anxiety made sleep elusive as you’d bounce between conscious and not.

Until the noises began.

You sat up abruptly, heart hammering in your chest as you listened to sounds of clashes, blaster fire and yelling from the men who had taken you. With no ability to act, or even see, you resort to bringing your legs up to your chest and balling yourself up in anticipation.

You wondered what could possibly be happening. Were you being saved? Was there a conflict amongst the men?

The commotion begins to die out, ending with the sound of one last shot from a blaster. You can now only hear the beat of your heart and your body begins to tremble. The environment grows eerily silent.

You gasp when you start to hear the door unlock and move open. Not knowing what to expect at this point had only added to the fear you felt flood through you. In a feeble attempt, you duck your head into your knees, holding yourself as close as you can with your bound arms.

You hear a voice speak your name, a voice you’ve become very familiar with. One that has haunted your memories.

The trembling in your body starts to cease as you raise your head to the voice, Din’s voice. Relief washes over you like a tidal wave.

The bed dips next to you as he removes the cloth from your eyes. You’re met with that same, emotionless visor you had come to yearn for. Words can’t describe the emotion beginning to seep out from you as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Din?” You finally manage to respond in whisper, a tremble from your bottom lip.

He removes the binders, a tool he’s very familiar with in his profession. He finds himself mentally cursing them for having to remove them from someone like you.

Before he can set them down, you’ve catapulted yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. A sob escapes your chest in relief, a feeling you’ve been deprived of for too long.

It catches him in surprise but doesn’t take long for him to settle into it, embracing you in return. His large, gloved hands cover your back. Relief at finding you meets him as well.

“Are you hurt?” His baritone voice rings in your ear, your rapid heartbeat skips as the fear melts into joy. When you pull back from his embrace to face him, you shake your head ‘no’. “Good.”

As the tears start to bubble over, you give him a weak smile, “you found me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to take your face in his hands, looking you in the eyes, “I will always find you.”

You lean into one of his palms, his touch feels so warm and safe.

“We have to get out of here,” he leans back to assess you, still in the simple outfit of leggings and long sleeve top you were taken in. But no shoes. They must have gotten rid of them.

“Alright, I’m going to carry you,” you nod in response, he stands from the bed and leans over to slip his arms under your back and legs. When he lifts you, it feels almost effortless from him. He’s really as strong as he looks.

With your arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, he quickly leaves the room and weaves through the halls of the building until he reaches an exit, bursting through to the outside by slamming his foot against the door.

He comes to a halt, adjusting his arm under you to reach his vambrace. You feel him press some of the controls on it.

“Alright, I need you to hold on tight, ok?”

You do as you’re told but raise an eyebrow at him, “alright bu-“

Before you can even finish your question, the Rising Phoenix on his back ignites and sends both of you into the sky. A yelp escapes you and you grip even tighter to him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. You can feel his hands press into you where he’s holding you, giving you a reassuring squeeze that his grip is firm and safe on you.

When the direction feels more steady, you pry yourself from him to try and look down. Your curiosity gets the best of you although this height is….pretty scary. Underneath you is a forest, which is about as much as you can make out. You have no idea where they took you but you can see why, it seems lifeless and easy to hide out in.

Din comes to a landing in front of the Razer Crest, coming to a running stop. He shifts his hands under you to press onto his vambrace and the ramp starts to lower. When he brings you inside, he gently sets you down to sit next to some crates.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get us out of here real quick.”

He leaves, climbing the ladder to the cockpit and disappears. Shortly after you feel the Razor Crest start up and lift. After some time and feeling the way he steers, you feel him kick it into hyperspace, and then silence.

You close your eyes, inhaling and exhaling a deep breath after feeling like you had been holding it in this entire time. You press your back into the wall behind you and try to finally relax. Footsteps come down the ladder and towards you, you open your eyes to find Din crouched down in front of you.

You let the silence linger between the two of you for a few minutes, taking the time to process the chaos that just happened in such a short amount of time. You realize Din has truly earned his reputation for a reason.

“Take your time,” he reassures you. “Your father sent coordinates to a safe place. It should only be 12 hours, give or take.”

Your eyes widen as you remember your father. He must have been worried sick.

“Where is he? My father?”

Din takes a long minute to respond, “I’m not sure. The call he sent to Karga’s location didn’t specify where, just that he would be going into hiding.”

The information bounces around your head for a minute before you give a silent nod in acknowledgment.

“Do you know where he could be?” Din asks.

“I don’t. I’m embarrassed to say, but we hadn’t discussed this beforehand. I’d hope it’s wherever he’s sending us.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Din stands and offers you a hand and lifts you up. “In the meantime, you should rest.”

He opens an enclosed space where his bunk is, which is really just a simple tarp material stretched across to make a cot. But that doesn’t entirely matter to you right now. You feel safe and finally able to breathe. You welcome the ability to lay somewhere that isn’t that horrible place you’d been kept in. You take note of the small hammock that hangs at the top of it.

You crawl inside and turn back to him as you settle in. Din reaches behind his neck and detaches his cape, and hands it to you.

“It’s not much, I’m sorry. I don’t….really ever think to have something like blankets around here.”

You cover yourself in the thick material, it’s warm and softer than it looks save for the burnt holes towards the bottom, “don’t be sorry, this is perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be in the cockpit if you need me.”

He closes the bunk and you listen as you hear his boots step up the ladder and disappear once again.

You don’t really have time to miss him before fatigue really sets in as you lay down. You wrap his cape around you, cocooning yourself inside of it. The part that attaches to his neck smells like him and you can’t help but breathe it in. He smells like soap and blaster smoke, it’s oddly comforting.

—————————————————————————

You wake up suddenly, gasping for air and full of adrenaline. This isn’t your first time doing this, though. Ever since you’d been kidnapped, you had been suffering from nightmares. You don’t always remember what happens in them, but next thing you knew, you would be sitting upright from the bed trying to catch your breath.

You pull Din’s cape around your shoulders and grip tightly, holding yourself tightly in order to ground yourself. You remind yourself that you’re safe. You’re in Din’s….bunk. Bed?

After a moment of attempting to calm yourself, you’ve decided to give up on sleep for now. You find your way out of the enclosed bunk, making sure to secure his cape around you. The floor of the ship is cold on your feet. You take in your surroundings, observing the way he keeps his space. It seems it’s kept very neat and methodical, very him.

Ascending the ladder to the cockpit, the door slides open as you stand to enter. He’s in his seat, set in the middle. The only light comes from the streaks of stars and hyperspace across the overhead windows and it reflects off of his helmet.

He doesn’t immediately react to your presence in his space, you wonder if he’s asleep. You opt to sit in a passenger chair to the right of him, noticing his arms crossed and his body slightly leaned back.

“How did you sleep?” His low voice rings through the modulator, almost startling you. He swivels his captain’s chair to face you. You hold yourself tighter, keeping his cape stretched across.

“Uh, yeah, sorta. I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep.”

You look up above to watch through the windows, “I kind of wish I had come up here. This is soothing.”

Din’s helmet tilts up to look as well, “it is. I almost prefer to sleep up here. Sometimes.”

Something in the air makes you feel like something isn’t being said. It’s hard to put your finger on it. You know there are many things you’d like to say to him, now that you feel more collected. But that same creeping fear from before seems to stop you. You don’t want to ruin this, or any moment with him.

“I need to ask you something, and it’s ok if you don’t want to answer right now. Or ever. I just-“ Din, of all people, is stumbling over his words. Something you’re not used to seeing him do at all. But the tension in the small space seems to thicken around the two of you. When he lowers his helm to face you, you aim to meet his eyes to give him a reassuring look to continue.

“Did they….do anything to you? Did they hurt you at all? Or…”

“Oh…Oh! No. Sort of?” Butterflies swirl in your stomach while you struggle to find words. “Not exactly, I think they were specifically told to not harm me. At least physically. That’s the impression I got.”

You hear the leather of Din’s glove start to rub against his arm rests, “physically?”

“Right. They didn’t hurt me like that. But I’d say it’s pretty psychologically harmful to lock someone up in a room for a week after kidnapping them.”

You hear the creak of his gloves and you watch as one of his hands fists into a ball while the other rubs against the side of the arm rest.

“I should have insisted on staying, to escort you back home,” he asserts in a low, bordering dangerous tone.

Without thought, you reach out a hand to close over his fisted one, “no, don’t do that to yourself.” His tight shoulders seem to visibly loosen up as you do so.

“Please don’t. I just-“ your voice starts to crack. Your eyes turn glassy and you turn your head, breaking the eye contact you felt you had with him.

Din takes no time reading your body language and he moves to kneel on one knee in front of you, resting both hands on your lap. Tears begin to form at the corners of your eyes and threaten to spill.

“What is it? Please tell me,” Din tries to console you, it’s almost jarring how quickly he can switch from being dangerous to soothing. His large hands engulf yours in both of his, feeling warm and secure.

You didn’t intend to go quiet, it’s just that your emotions threaten to allow everything within you to spill out. Something you’ve inadvertently trained yourself to be afraid of. Every time your mouth begins to mouth what you want to say, you feel your heart squeeze and single tears come forward.

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” you finally mustered to say. “I’m ashamed.”

“Ashamed?!”

“Yes. It’s ridiculous, I know. But before you’d found me, I had given up. I couldn’t fight. I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there,” you pause when you feel one of his hands cup your cheek and redirect your gaze to his, or at least his visor. Your heart jumps into your throat, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his thumb begins to stroke where it lays on your cheek. Before you can debate on what more to say, a beeping comes over the intercom of the ship.

The ship exits hyperspace and comes to a standstill. Din, with a gentle last caress of your face, quickly moves back to position in his seat. The beeping comeson again as he grabs a hold of the controls and a voice comes over the intercom.

“Razorcrest, you have permission to land.”

Confusion etches into your features as you watch him, his hand is paused above a button. One you think he was about to use to speak back. But now there was no need, whoever it is already knew who he was and definitely expecting him. He withdraws his hand and gets back to his steering controls, “buckle up.”

You do as you're told, fasten your seatbelt and sit back. You feel the ship begin to descend into a planet’s atmosphere. A familiar looking planet.

—————————————————————————

“Sir, she’s nowhere to be found.”

Large boots crunch through the broken glass and debris that’s scattered across the floor. Accompanied by the few bodies of henchmen. The boots belong to a tall, intimidating figure. A scarred and hardened looking Twi’lek, with a permanent scowl and scar across his mouth to match.

He turns to the man speaking to him, one of his many lackies, and growls, “what happened here?!”

“We have reason to believe the Mandalorian found her. All of this is his doing.”

The Twi’lek glowers at him before hitting his fist against the wall. He doesn’t speak, gritting his teeth as he contemplates his next words. His next move.

His demeanor slowly shifts to something more calm and collected as he seems to gather his thoughts. A twisted smirk revealing sharpened teeth emerges.

“We’re heading out. It’s time to send a message.”

@dindjarinsmut @impala1967666 @kittenlittle24 @angel-with-a-heart @leithatnight @i-usually-main-bards-tho @dins-riduur-anthe @fatima-marisa @lalalalemonade11 @n7cje @orcasoul

Divider by @/saradika-graphics

[mgparker]

the bodyguard- din djarin

DIN DJARIN X F!ROYAL!READER [SERIES]

summary: tensions rise as the princess of the dystopian planet eiria finally approaches the age in which she will take the throne. despite her reluctance, she finds herself under the protection of the infamous mandalorian.

warnings: female reader, given surname, implied hair length (medium to long), little mandalorian content but that’ll change in the next chapter, world building, time jumps, elusiveness (for plot development), unedited so beware

series masterlist!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚. i. a stranger in my room *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

Long before the fall of the Jedi Order, there'd been peace. Harmony amongst those who made their way in the galaxy. Tranquility and above all, happiness.

Even in these times, Eiria was such place that many people could only dream of. A planet so ethereal and utopian it was a wonder that it truly existed.

Luscious greenery covered its surface, slipping through the cracks and edges of its magnificent buildings, built on a foundation of gold. Technologically advanced in its own right, humble and simple where it mattered.

Technology was only used to ensure the safety of its citizens, otherwise Eiria was a world untouched by the horrors of the galaxy. Kept safe by its council of leaders that had been appointed and passed down along the generations.

It hadn't always been led by this council. No, Eiria was a royal world. Since its first taste of civilization, the hand of a ruler had governed the lands...

But when the former king and queen fell ill to a sickness that had wiped out over a quarter of Eiria's population over ten years ago, the leadership of the planet had fallen onto the shoulders of a council that had existed long before their reign.

All left from their rule, besides the sparkling scenery and magnificent buildings they'd had built overtime, was their daughter.

She'd been spared from the wicked disease that had claimed the lives of her parents, taken under the wing of her father's closest friend and advisor, Senator Phex Dameron.

The Princess was as stubborn as she was loyal, dedicated to her people until her last breath, a weight on her shoulders since the moment she was born. Thrust upon her the crushing responsibility of royalty, only to be spared her teenage years and emerging adulthood.

Every day, she thanked the maker that her parents had decreed she wouldn't take the throne until she had reached twenty one cycles — even if it was solely to secure that the throne would remain in their families for cycles to come. You see, a leader could be challenged if they were deemed too young to take the throne. To avoid that from happening, the King and Queen had signed into law that should need arise, the Council would take over all governing responsibilities and otherwise until the Princess was of suitable age.

At just twenty cycles old, the last Altair was on the dawn of a new age...

But along with it, came the danger.

The Princess of Eiria stares ahead, cold and calculating, teeth gritted together, seething beneath the carefully constructed surface, and swears that one day she will never have to answer to anyone again.

Before you, a panel of men, women and creatures alike, watching you with those greedy, overbearing eyes. It's not you that wears a mask, it's them. With their false pretenses, the caring acts behind worried gazes.

They don't care about you. They care about the wealth. The riches. Getting in the good graces of the Senator.

You expect he'll be elected any day now. It's only a matter of time and until then, and even after, the Council will put on those infuriating masks.

The Senator stares at you without the mask. In fact, there's no expression on his face at all. Except for the hint of pity you sense from his body language. You've known him too long to not see it right away.

A twinge of annoyance hits you. This is partly his fault-- what pity could he be feeling?

You should probably speak now. Not to the Council or to the Senator. But to him.

As angry as you were, he was only here to do his job. You'd do your best to keep him out of your path of fury.

You politely tell him your name, though it's not needed, and thank him for accepting the Senator's offer of serving as your protector.

After all, the Mandalorian will be following your every step from now on. It's best to be on civil terms for both your sanities.

You ignore everyone else in the Council Chamber.

The Mandalorian gives one curt nod.

Normally, you'd be irked by his silence but in this moment, you're grateful for it. You spin toward the door, guarded by two Jedi knights the Senator had sent for.

You bite the inside of your cheek and stride for the exit.

"Sunshine," it's the Senator. You stop. "It's for the best. You'll thank me in the future."

You don't turn around. Heavy footsteps follow behind you.

You doubt it.

It's been exactly three days since your world was further more flipped on its axis.

The remnants of grief over your recent loss had been overshadowed by the irritation you felt over the presence of the Mandalorian.

It isn't his fault. You constantly try to remind yourself, even as you furiously glare at the stupid tin helmet that rests over his head. He's just doing his job and you're not making it any easier.

It was on day three that you made this realization.

"I'm sorry if I've been... cold towards you. We’ve barely said a word since we’ve met.”

“Don’t apologize,” his raspy modulator replies stoicly. “Socializing isn’t exactly in the job description.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and glare at your own reflection in the vanity mirror you sit before. The reminder that your only regular company, other than the Senator, was here by obligation sours your attempt to befriend the Mandalorian.

“Right. Well, as much as I’ve enjoyed your silent shadow hovering over me for the past seventy-two hours, I highly doubt watching me every waking second is in your job description either.”

He stays silent, despite your bait.

You have no problem going on, combing your hair absentmindedly. “Perhaps you should be doing other things. Surely the rest of the castle requires some sort of surveillance. The Council would pay handsomely.”

“My job here is strictly to keep you under my protection, Princess.”

Your lip curls slightly. “Well, as you can see the windows are shut, my balcony bolted and the biggest threat to me at the moment is tangling my hair in this brush. So I would kindly request that your services extend to the exterior of my quarters please. I’d like some privacy please.”

You’re trying to be as polite as possible. You really are, but there’s only so much stoic silence from a metal man hovering in one of the corners of every room you enter that you could take.

All your life you’d been as independent as a member of the royal family could be. The Senator had made sure of that— and it was partly the reason you were still so angry with him over this arrangement. So going from that to this, it was not going well for you. Not at all. Especially since your new stalker didn’t seem to make any noises or speak any words beside ‘yes’, ‘no’, or some bullshit answer to any specific question you’d ask. But only if it was job-related, otherwise, he was an unmoving, nonverbal statue.

Three days with the Mandalorian and you were beginning to absolutely despise his beskar helmet and the nonexistent sense of security the Council had believed he’d bring.

This was all done for their benefit. Not yours.

You didn’t need protection before and you certainly don’t need it now. He served no purpose but to make you uncomfortable under his unbreaking gaze.

“I will be right outside the door, your Highness.”

Your eyes jolt up to him in pure surprise. You had been expecting the usual silence, for him to ignore your request as he did all the other times you’d told him you didn’t require his unwavering surveillance.

Maybe the fact that you’d pointed out every single enter and exit strategy finally convinced him, but you couldn’t know for sure. Not with that obscure helmet.

You dismiss your thoughts and almost catch yourself beaming at his reflection in the corner of your room. “Thanks,” you breathe, opting for a smaller smile, filled with gratitude.

He nods once and then leaves.

You release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

The first thought that crosses your mind is one you dismiss just as quickly as it arose. The small traces of adolescence that cling on to you tempt you to sneak away from the Mandalorian. Break the rules. See how far you could run before he caught up to you.

But you dismiss it. Because you’re loyal to your people and you know why he’s here despite you not agreeing to all the dramatics.

The Senator claims this is all for your protection. That coming of age and taking the throne would likely bring danger as those who wished to rule the throne would start creeping out of the hiding places they’d taken residence in since the death of your parents.

But it itches beneath your skin the longer you gaze over at the crack under your bedroom door, the shadow of his feet unmoving and steady.

You could run. Make a little game out of it. See if he’s really as qualified as Senator Dameron says he is.

You sigh quietly and set the brush down very slowly. Your heart pounds in anticipation, a plan forming in your mind.

As quickly and stealthily as possible, you slip out of your casual gown into a pair of very unladylike trousers and a tunic that you laced up tightly.

You brainstorm different ways to make your exit. Maybe you could cough or somehow force a sneeze? Some way to let your Mandalorian know you were still unsuspiciously lounging in your quarters.

You decide against it, instead doing your best to unlock your windows without making so much as a creak. Surprisingly, it’s not all too difficult.

The window swings open, both panels nearly knocking into the stone exterior of the castle but you lunge forward to grab onto them. Your momentum drives you forward with more eagerness than you intended, your feet flying from the floor, tipping out into the evening dusk with the ghost of a scream on your lips.

Something pulls you back at the feet.

Your body remains suspended, hands clutching onto the panels white-knuckled. You quickly toss a glance behind you, fully expecting to see your bodyguard standing there with his stupid beskar staring disappointedly at you.

By the sheer grace of the Maker, there’s no one behind you at all.

The only thing that saved you from plummeting to your death was your pesky iron dresser, the one that had those decorative swirls that you often knocked your ankle against.

On it, the hem of your surprisingly sturdy trousers, which were beginning to rip at the seams the longer you stood there hanging like an idiot.

Quickly, you toss yourself back to safety, freeing your hem and sheathing your small dagger you kept under your pillow. When suddenly you hear a shuffle against the door and you freeze.

Your eyes are trained on the shadow under the crack of your door. It’s the Mandalorian, thankfully just readjusting his stance.

Deciding there’s no more time to lose, you drag a hidden rope you had tied to one of the posts under your bed from your younger adventures, and carefully climb out of your window. All the while hoping the Mandalorian wouldn’t decide to check in on you at that exact moment.

As soon as your feet touch the floor, you’re off, leaving the rope and your quarters in the dust.

An elated laugh escapes you. It feels like you’re floating over the stone pavement, more free than you’ve been since before you were orphaned.

It gives you a head rush, this thrill, knowing you’re breaking every rule in the book — for the Royal Princess of Eiria was not to wander the streets unattended, much less when the sun was falling below the horizon. Senator Dameron would probably burst a blood vessel if he saw you now.

After a few minutes of aimless sprinting, you begin to see the outline of the city, lit by its posts and the torches held by the knights on guard. You eye them, trying to figure out how to get past undetected.

Suddenly, you hear the sound of hoofs against the damp grass and the panic sends you flying into a nearby bush.

Your hair gets caught, a few thorns digging into your skin, one catching onto the skin of your cheek.

“Ugh,” you complain quietly.

Between the foliage, you begin to make out the figure upon the approaching horse.

“Gwaine!”

You smile in relief, your pounding heart beginning to settle back into your heaving chest. Gwaine is one of the few people you trust within the city walls, having known him since he was a boy. He is the blacksmith’s son, currently serving as his apprentice.

You spring out of the bush, startling Gwaine’s horse but he quickly reigned her back in.

“My lady,” he nods with an amused look.

You stand awkwardly for a moment, knowing you probably looked like a disaster.

Gwaine motions towards his own hair, near his ear. “You’ve got…”

“Oh!” You quickly snatch a leaf out of your locks. “Thanks.”

He eyes you, scanning your disheveled appearance from head to toe, before looking over at the patrolling guards and then back at you.

“Do you require some sort of… uh- assistance, my lady?” He asks as if he doesn’t want to know what you’re up to this time.

Poor Gwaine. One way or another you’d always managed to drag him into your various schemes over the years. But you’d never let him take the fall for any of your antics. Never.

Doesn’t stop him from fearing the day he’d once again see you with that same mischievous, faux innocence on your face. Which was more often than you cared to admit.

He knew your look of trouble like the back of his hand.

You jolt in realization and look past him, searching for any sign of the Mandalorian.

“You know,” you sigh a little dramatically once you realize the coast is pretty much clear. “I really shouldn’t drag you into affairs of the royal family. I’ll just leave you be—”

“What is it?” He cuts through the bullshit.

“Well, if you must know, I’ve taken the liberty of paroozing the sights of the city tonight, Gwaine.”

“We both know full well you have no liberty of ‘paroozing the city’ at this hour, your Highness.”

You try to hide your flinch.

“What’s with the formalities, Gwaine?” you divert. “Would it kill you to say my name for once?”

“Eh— might.”

You follow his line of sight to the guards that were stationed across the town square.

“You’re my friend. You can address me by my name, Gwaine.”

“You sure say my name a lot,” he says cheekily. Letting up his usual formalities. You feel relieved, giving him an easy smile. It was always like this with him— he’d address you by title, do everything by the book, and you’d have to slowly break him down until he accepts that you’re his friend. Not just the Princess. Years of conditioning made him that way you guess.

“It’s a mighty fine name,” you grin.

“Why thanks.”

His horse neighs suddenly. You both snap into reality.

“Seriously, Squeak. What’re you doing outside the castle? Aren’t you under strict vigilance right now?”

Squeak. It’s his nickname he’d given you ever since you had convinced him to help you climb to the roof of the stables when you were both small children. You were convinced you could fly (‘just like a bird!’ is what you’d told him) and jumped off to prove it. Needless to say, you were very thankful there had been a comfortable amount of hay on the ground below. Since that day, Gwaine began to call you ‘Squeak’ because you had screeched just like a bird when you landed face first in the hay.

“You heard?”

“The whole kingdom heard. A Mandalorian around these parts is rare. You mustn’t be alone when the Senator has gone to such extreme lengths to have you protected.”

Protected, your ass. Where was the Mandalorian now?

“I’m not alone,” you reply. “I’m with you.”

Gwaine purses his lips and gives you a half-hearted glare. Knowing in his heart, he couldn’t leave you alone now even if he wanted to. You’d just ensnared him in a royal duty whether you meant to or not.

“Nyla, settle down,” he murmured softly to his horse, as she began to get antsy from meandering around for too long. He looked back at you. “Well, are we going to stand here and wait to be caught?”

You give him a quizzical look.

“Well, you must’ve snuck out, haven’t you? I don’t see the Mandalorian around.”

But he’d surely be around if you kept standing here all evening.

You hustle over to Nyla, taking Gwaine’s outstretched hand and hauling yourself up behind him. Securing your arms around his middle, you smile softly at the familiarity.

“Where to, Princess?” He murmurs.

“Beyond the city walls, the abandoned watch tower.”

chapter 2 >>

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[syndxlla]

Final Part of the More To Love Series

Summary: Time is of the essence as you risk everything to save the man you love. But will it be enough?

Word Count: 5.2k, NO ‘Y/N’

Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood, graphic depictions of torture and beatings, stabbing, swearing, whipping, major character death

Authors note: Well it’s here. I started writing this fic almost two years ago, and while I don’t share much about my personal life on here, this fic has been in the background of some of the most major parts of my life. It is not over, there will be a sequel that I have already began writing. But, when I started writing More to Love, I began with the intention of having a sad ending.

Sorry for that.

Good luck LOL

(More notes at the end)

Part eighteen

Din faces Koska, tears rolling down her cheeks silently. Everyone in the servant’s courtyard between the stables and the kitchen watches in anxious anticipation, the thunder starting to roll in, making the sky ominous, and bleak. It’s increasingly dark for the afternoon, the storm clouds starting to release their sorrow upon the kingdom of Mandalore.

He’s pushed to the ground by the two largest knights he knows, and circling to the front of him walks the prince, dressed in his regal attire. The clothing you would only wear for a coronation, or a wedding.

Korkie crouches in front of Din, looking through the visor of his beskar helmet. The prince doesn’t say a word before he pulls the armor off of the Mandalorian’s head. Inch by inch his face is revealed to a courtyard of people, to his fellow servants and knights who know the severity of a knight having his helmet removed before others. It is the greatest dishonor to have it removed for you, and furthermore removed by nobility. The onlookers in the yard did not need to know what he did to know it was treason, and worth death.

The Mandalorian’s eyes have to adjust to the change of light when his beskar helmet is removed. He blinks his eyes a few times, looking up at the prince. His jaw is tense, and face full of rage and disgust. His arms are immobile, both of them being held tightly and roped together by men who were once his brothers in creed. He has no creed now. He is just a man again.

Korkie tosses the beskar aside with a sense of disrespect. He looks down at the face beneath him, which looks up with a scornful frown.

“Do you have any last words?” Korkie asks with his sly tone.

The man on his knees says nothing, and instead spits in the face of the prince. Korkie laughs as he flicks the spit off of his cheek. He is then quickly drawing back his hand, and smacking the Mandalorian across the cheek. It didn’t hurt physically, but he can think of very few things as symbolically humiliating as that action. Korkie snaps and two other knights come to the center of the courtyard, and they begin stripping the Mandalorian of his beskar armor. First his pauldrons, then his chest plate, thigh-plates, and wrist guards. When he attempts to fight back, one of them kicks him in the stomach, hard. He winces, but he isn’t giving up his fight yet.

He tries to pull himself up again, using all of his might, but Korkie is quickly on him, sending a sharp upper-cut to his jaw, which he feels pop out of adjustment after. He groans again. Korkie snaps again, and the Mandalorian feels humiliated that he won’t even be spoken to anymore.

Despite how he was being treated, he knew that he had to stay strong. He could not give these monsters the satisfaction they were looking for by breaking early. Stallions do not break unless absolutely forced to. He would kneel here for hours if he had to.

He should have seen this coming, the man who was a bounty hunter would have seen this from a mile away, but since then he’s grown soft, broken, and weak. The guards are now pulling off his layers, publicly shaming him in front of nearly every servant in the palace. He is left in just his trousers and thin, cotton undershirt. Even his boots are stripped off of him. He gets several good blows on him through this process, one from the Prince across the bridge of his nose that especially hurts, his nose begins bleeding, and after one more snap from the royal, he’s being dragged to the closest post, and swiftly tied to it with force.

This is when Korkie begins to have his way, he pulls his gloves tightly down his wrists, and then wastes no more time beating the shit out of the poor man. Coming from all directions, in all levels of severity. Servants who refused to watch slowly began trickling out of the courtyard, others in need of entertainment or were curious stayed to watch him be brutalized.

After his face is properly beat up, eyes bruised, lip split, nose probably broken and jaw feeling slack, Korkie starts down on his gut, kicking and punching his stomach with a strength no one expected the skinny prince to have. Any strength The Mandalorian had left was gone now, he felt truly helpless.

“For your crimes of treason.” He says as he catches his breath at one point, spitting on the man’s knee. “And for fucking my bride,” He punches the Mandalorian square in the right shoulder, “And for disrespecting the queen over and over again,” he gets a blow at the left shoulder now, “And for pissing me off.” He kicks him in the gut again, and a pathetic wheeze is heard.

“Sir, you asked for these?” He turns to see one of the knights holding a whip and the older holding the Dark Sword.

“Lovely.” Korkie gathers himself, pushing his hair back into place and correcting his posture. “Boys, have your fun.”

—

The world cries, fat raindrops running down the windows of Korkie’s room. Your head hurts from crying, and your stomach is sick. You don’t know how much time goes by, but you finally stop crying, sniffling your nose. How did you mess up so badly? You wish none of this ever happened, you wish you never came to Mandalore, you wish you never left home.

As soon as you think that, however, your heart bleeds and cries because then you would never know Din. Din, with his brown eyes and curly hair, his scarred arms that are strong but gentle, his honey-amber skin that is peppered with gentle freckles. His laugh that rings in your dreams, his voice that reminds you that it’s okay, and that he loves you. Is all of this worth it for him?

Of course it is. You love him, and he’s in danger. You start crying harder because you know it’s all your fault. You shouldn’t have left him earlier, you should have stayed with him, you should have left yesterday.

“Stop thinking about the ‘should haves’” You say with a shaky breath. You don’t even recognize your voice anymore because of how torn it is from begging and crying. You look around the room, first at the sole grandfather clock, it’s nearly four. You don’t have much time, Din has even less.

You have to save him.

If there’s anything you’ve learned about yourself since you got here, it’s that you are not a quitter, and when someone needs you, you’ll be there. You stand up, your legs still a little shaky, but you get there. You get to your feet, and you’re dizzy, and your head is pounding, but it’s worth it for Din. You take a shaky breath, and then look around the room. The windows are sealed shut, and after further examination, they are a couple stories up from the roof below it, so no luck there. You search through Korkie’s desk, nothing but worthless papers on here.

The fireplace, you walk to it after you notice the pokers. Ideas flood your brain. You pick one up, examining the heavy iron in your hand. The fire is blazing, and you stick the metal in it, holding it in place until it becomes red hot, you carefully pull it out of the flame, making sure to keep it away from your face. When you walk to the door, the knob appears to be made of brass, which as you recall from Din explaining Beskar to you, has a lower melting temperature than most metal. You shove the fire poker into the keyhole until the knob gets hot, too, you run over to the fireplace and grab another fire poker and after taking a deep breath, and drawing the iron up over your head, you swing it down onto the melting door knob. It pops right off, clanking onto the floor.

You holler in joy, feeling proud of yourself for thinking of that. You can now press the door open, but it appears to be barricaded by a decorative, but heavy table. One of the little ones in the hallways under the mirrors or oil paintings. You can see through the crack you’ve made with your strength, there appears to be one knight. It doesn’t seem like he’s noticed anything yet. You try to think of how to get this door open the rest of the way, there’s nothing in this room that’s going to help you, you’re just going to have to force it open. You grab the cold fire poker, and hold it in your hands as a final weapon.

After taking a few steps back, you breathe deep and pray to whoever is out there that this works. With a running start, you slam your shoulder into the door as hard as you can. This hurts far more than you were expecting, but the door does budge a little. It knocks the wind out of you, and you’re struggling to find your footwork again, but you’re proud of how much of a punch you were able to pack.

Unfortunately, the knight does now notice that somethings up, and he walks to the door. “Your Highness I must keep you here.” He says.

“Sir, please, I must get out.”

“I have been ordered to keep you here.” He nods.

You sigh, “I will assure you will face no consequences.” You can’t really promise that, but you have no other options.

“M’lady-“

“Sir Knight I simply must insist as…” You think of any and every lie you can, “You see.. my blood has let and I am in need of assistance.” You physically cringe after saying this, regretting it, but the reaction of the awkward male knight is enough for him to tentatively let the desk out of the door’s way enough for you to sidle through.

“You will come directly back?”

“Well of course.” You nod.

“Why do you need a fire poker?” He asks, you try to look less suspicious with it.

“Uhm… to brace myself on! Cramps and such!” You chuckle, that works like a charm against men every time. You hastily then proceed to use the fire poker like a cane as you start down the corridor, probably looking like a bloody idiot. It’ll do though, and when you’re out of sight of the random guard, you practically start sprinting. You don’t really have a plan after this point, but you’ve made it this far.

The halls are frantic, but for once you’re not afraid to walk through the twisted labyrinth of the Mandalorian Palace. Your feet are heavy, and you know you’re running out of time. You know that people are going to start noticing you in this white dress sooner than later, and so you pick up your feet, moving at a faster pace through the castle.

“Your highness?” A voice you remember asks. You stop and turn to see Soniee, your maid who has shown you more kindness than anyone here.

“Soniee, oh thank the stars.” You gasp, out of breath and running out of time.

“Princess what is wrong?” She asks, a genuinely worried look on her face.

“Where would they hold an execution?” You ask, your hands on either of her shoulders.

“What?” She’s clearly distracted by your wedding gown, perhaps not everyone has been told the news. You state your question again, more forceful this time to emphasize the importance of it. Soniee stutters, but gets it out, “The courtyard, down by the servant’s quarters, I suppose… that is if it’s for a royal or knight, a commoner would be in Keldabe-“

“Thank you!” You kiss her on the forehead before sprinting past her, your sore muscles finally loose enough that you aren’t slowed down by them. You’re lucky you took so many walks to get away from the drama of the court because you knew the quiet halls, the ones that only the staff uses, and the fastest way to the staff quarters.

Hell, you don’t even know if he’s going to be there, but that’s your best guess. You make it with your fire poker in your hand, fists clenched and heart pounding.

What freezes your blood, however, are the sounds of agony you can hear him in when you approach the courtyard. You try to stop yourself from running to him, but it’s futile because you’re eventually going full speed in a wedding dress into the pouring rain. You drop the fire poker, it’s of no use, now. You can’t make it all the way before you trip over the length of your dress, falling to your knees in a puddle. The gown is ruined now, you suppose you weren’t planning on using it anyways.

“Stop!” You cry out, not sure what to do from here. The rain droplets fall. Off of your eyelashes as you look up at Korkie. Your chest is heaving, throat dry from running, and eyes blurry from your tears. Your presence isn’t ignored, however, because the knights who were taking turns whipping Din stop to gesture to you for Korkie to turn around and see you.

He holds the black sword in his hands, and his face drops into a look of betrayal and fury as he gazes upon you. There were bags under his eyes, and you remember Din telling you that anger takes a toll on people.

“Well, well, well.” Korkie laughs, looking up at the rain, “I should have known you would make an entrance.” He begins pacing, “And what do you suppose to do from here on?” He asks.

Your eyes dart between him and Din, the poor knight whose face was covered in his own blood, a bruised eye beginning to swell shut. “Let him go, Korkie, please!” You have to fight the thunder to be heard. You begin to walk towards him and the two knights take caution, coming to attention and prepare to strike at any minute. Korkie holds up a hand to tell them to stand down. He wanted to hear what you had to say. “Take me, let him go. I’ll stay, forever. I’ll follow all your rules. I’ll bear you an heir, a boy, and you can pretend I don’t even exist. I’ll spend my days alone, I’ll do anything you ask me to as long as you let him go.” You’re finally in close quarters with him. “I’ll marry you today, and I will be the best Consort Mandalore has ever seen.” You whisper.

“No!” Din shouted before crying in pain from another crack on his back. You tried not to fall apart at the sight of him, but knew that for once you had to be the strong one.

“Where would he go?”

“Banish him. Just let him live, and let him have his son, safely. Please, I beg of you.” You explain, taking one of Korkie’s hands. You were willing to make this sacrifice if it meant Din would live. You genuinely believed this would work, you think you’ve finally grown enough to put others before yourself. But in case Korkie didn’t agree to it, you had a plan B.

“Please…” Din muttered, clearly in unspeakable pain, he was elbowed in the jaw for speaking up again, and you wanted to tear this place down for how he was being treated, you wanted to punish them the same way they were hurting him. You feel so powerless, lost without him two paces behind you.

Korkie is close to you, his breath erratic as well, drops of rain and sweat running down his temple. You look at his grey-blue eyes, the ones that were supposed to give you a life that was a fantasy, the eyes that were supposed to gaze upon you with adoration and pride.

You suppose you didn’t make his job any easier, you never really gave him a chance. But why did he deserve one in the first place? All Mandalore has ever done is desecrate and take, and they paint themselves as the victors every time.

Studying his strained face, you are filled with rage, with betrayal. How could he do such horrible things to you? How could he treat those you love with such disgust. You give a gentle squeeze to Korkie’s hand, before slowly leaning in to kiss him. He holds perfectly still as your lips press to his, you close your eyes, breathing him in and really kissing him this time. It’s angry, forceful, like you’re trying to take back from him what’s rightfully yours, what he so wrongfully robbed you from. Your free hand came up to cup his face, pulling him in. You tried to mimic what Din had taught you, but knew you were doing no service to your valiant teacher. This was always so much easier with Din, and suddenly you were very aware that no matter who you marry, or who you’re with, they will never be Din, and you will always wish they were.

Before Korkie could think, you’re letting go of his hand, and ripping the sword out from his other hand. He was shocked and distracted by the kiss, so you had no problem pulling the hilt away. The weight of the dark sword is heavy in your head, but perfectly balanced. Korkie tries to pull away from the kiss but you remembered how Din could keep your hand in control if you kept your hand on the back of his neck, so he can’t pull away far enough to do anything before you’re drawing the sword back and running it through his side, as hard as you can.

The feeling of stabbing someone is impossible to describe, perhaps it was the sharpness of the blade, or the force of the wielder, but human skin and muscle can be torn into itself much easier than it should be. What you were most surprised of, however, was how deep you were able to go, you could press most of your weight into him as he cried into your mouth. You clench your jaw, crying from exertion and bewilderment as you drive the sacred blade of Mandalorian Culture into the Heir of that culture itself.

Korkie stumbles back on the cobble ground, breaking his fall with his own arm, he cries in pain even more, probably having broken a bone. He’s bleeding a lot, and you secretly hope you didn’t hit any vital organs. His blouse is stained a deep-red, and his hand comes up to hold his side. The adrenaline in your body is intoxicating as you look down at the sword, dripping blood of its Prince. The sight of it nearly makes you weary. You aren’t really sure what you just did, or how you pulled it off, but you’re looking down at him in fear and shock, your stomach turning to bile as he writhes in pain. You see the other two knights coming at you at full speed, but before they reach you, a woman is standing between them and you.

Koska holds another sword in her hand, prepared for battle, the Knights come to a halt, confused, “You dare to challenge your rightful ruler!?” She shouts. “Then you will have to go through me.” She bites at them, and they prepare for battle, widening their stances.

“Koska!” You cry.

“Do not stop me, Your Majesty.” She says without looking at you, the grip on the hilt of her sword enough to make her knuckles white. You wondered if she was afraid, or if you were the only one terrified for your future right now.

“What?” You ask, shocked that she would risk her own life for you when you didn’t even know if she tolerated you. The air is cold as the rain comes down, and you look at the obsidian weight in your hand again. It’s heavy, much heavier than you would have imagined.

Koska finally turns her head over her shoulder to look at you, her hair disheveled and stuck to her forehead from the rain, “take the sword, it’s yours now!”

“What?” You cry again, “I thought it was Bo’s?”

“No! Korkie challenged her for it this morning and she yielded. It's a custom to yield to the rightful heir rather than fight your loved one to the death.”

“I don’t understand!” You weren’t sure you understood.

“You are the Rightful Ruler of Mandalore! Whoever wields that sword holds the full force of our kingdom, but I cannot guarantee they will accept you. Now go! Get away from your kingdom, as far as you can! You will be a Martyr until all of this blows over!” Koska tries to explain but they’re running out of time.

“Koska, I can’t! Not without Him!” You cry, placing a shaky hand on her shoulder.

“I will get these two as far away from you and Din as possible, take a horse, use the tunnels into Keldabe! You have to get to the Sundari Front, the military will hunt you as long as Bo decides they should and you two are in Danger!” Koska yells. “Run!” She nods before doing exactly as she said, sprinting away from you back towards the castle, the other two knights running towards her at full speed in a wild chase.

You can’t breathe, everything happened so fast, you feel dizzy. But your eyes fall on Din, bruised, broken and bleeding before you. He steadies you, his very presence beckons you, and you run to him, dropping to your knees in front of him, you drop the sword, it clanging to the ground.

Your small hands pick up his face, looking at him, his eyes hazy. “I’m here, I have you.” You whisper, trying to keep yourself calm but he’s covered in his own blood, and the blood coming out of his ear can’t mean anything good.

“You… you did it.” Din tries to say, “You came for me.” He coughs after trying to speak, your entire body pulses when you see the whip cracks on the skin of his back.

“Sh, sh, sh, save your strength, I got you.” You start untying the rope around his hands and legs, trying not to puncture any of his fresh wounds. It’s as if you can feel his pain, also. Blood gets on your dress, staining the white satin along with the mud. His muscles are exhausted, and you can’t help but blame yourself for all of this. You remember what Koska said, you really don’t have very much time.

“We have to go, can you stand up?” You ask but get no answer. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, stay with me, okay? Stay awake.” You tell him as his one un-swollen eye started to blink open and closed. You wipe some fluid away from his eye that was threatening to get in, and you try to feel for his pulse on his neck. It’s dangerously slow, and you swear this is a dream. All of these are things he taught you how to do, there is no way you or him could have ever guessed it would come in handy so quickly. You try to put his arm under your shoulder and stand up to get him off the ground but his sheer mass collapses you both back into the stone. “You’re too heavy for me to lift you onto the horse, you big lug, I need you to get up.” You’re almost laughing now to keep yourself from crying but it’s no use.

The two of you are even closer to the ground now, he’s so exhausted that he can’t even stand. “Din, please don’t do this to me.” You sob. “Din?” He won’t respond to you. You drop your ear to his chest, he’s still breathing but it’s shallow, weak. You pull your veil out of your hair, using it to try and soak up the blood on Din’s face but it’s terrible material for soaking anything up. You decide to tie it around his bicep on his bad arm as a tourniquet. Leaning your face down close to his, you can still feel a bit of his breath against your face, you kiss his slack lips a few times, trying to catch your breath in between kisses and sobs. He kisses you back a few times, but it’s nothing like what you’re used to, and eventually he can’t even kiss you.

“Din, please, you have to stay strong, for me, and for Rue.” Mentioning his son with the wide-eyes and big ears only makes you cry more, but it awakes something in him because one of his hands reaches up to touch your face, and you smile wide, his eyes crack open slightly.

“I-I.” He tried but he must have taken a few blows to his neck because his throat is swollen and his vocal chords are failing. It doesn’t even sound like his voice anymore.

“What?” You ask, holding his hand against your face.

“Mesh’la.” He coughs, a little bit of blood sputtering out as he slips into his native tongue, he says your name, it’s strained and faint, but you hear it before he goes back into Mando’a “Kar’taylir.” He never really taught you how to speak any of their words, but you knew what that one meant.

“Din, Love, I will hold you in my heart, always, I will.” You cry as his hand goes limp against yours and he won’t respond anymore.

“Din!” You shout, but nothing, “Din please!” You cry, holding his face as he fades away. You pull his limp body onto you, his head resting in your lap, your hands running through his soaking wet hair as you cry. “Din don’t go, please, God, don’t go.” You say through sputtering tears. “Wake up.”

Time isn’t real when you experience loss like that, your entire body seems to float, each limb threatening to turn into marble stone, eternally immortalized in that moment of pain and grief.

Still, Din gives no answer, “Wake up!” You shout. “Don’t do this to me please, please Din I can’t-“ You can barely breathe through your tears, “I can’t do this without you. I can’t live without you.”

Meanwhile, a pool of crimson blood surrounds Korkie while he’s pulled onto a make-shift cot by a few servants and brought inside of the palace. A few others come out of the shadows, inching towards you and Din.

The clattering sound surrounding Beskar is deafening. You are beginning to slowly be surrounded by knights and guards, here to either coronate you or execute you, whichever it might be. You forgot how quickly gossip and news spreads through the palace, so it’s no surprise that two thirds of the staff all stare at you as you mourn the weak body before you. Your sobs rip through the courtyard as Din lies lifeless in your arms. You scream at the sky, how is this fair? You have no more fight left in you.

You don’t even care if they take you, they can kill you too, for all that you care. You have no reason for life without Din. You would renounce everything you had if it meant you didn’t have to live a life without the Mandalorian Knight by your side.

You’re muttering nonsense now, crying over his body so loud that you don’t hear someone come up from behind you. “Please, just leave him alone, don’t hurt him anymore.” You beg when you realize a figure is towering over you.

The hand of the person behind you reaches down to your shoulder, you look up, and can’t quite make out who it is through your own tears and heartache. They are radiant, and bright. They place a hand on the chest of Din, breathing their own life into him. You think it might be the Elven Queen, Ahsoka, or maybe the Maker themselves, but you aren’t sure, the rain and fog mixed with your delirium makes you unsure of what you’re witnessing.

“Do you love him?” The figure reiterates their question. There is no tone to their voice, it rings in your head, maybe they didn’t say it out loud, maybe you were already dead.

You have to take a deep breath, desperately attempting to refill your lungs before you can even try to conjure a cohesive sentence, “More than anything.”

You remember everything about him; the night he unlaced your corset for you, when he saved your life in the slums of Keldabe, you teaching him how to dance just for him to show up to the masquerade to surprise you, the beach, the theatre, the ball. When you would read to him stories at night and you were both too tired to do anything else. You think of his laugh, his smile, the way his eyes crinkle up at the sides when he’s happy. Or when he’s mad, and his jaw clenches and shoulders go stiff.

The twist of his curls, the contour of his skin. “I love him, please, save him, whatever it takes I’ll give you.” You sob, begging to a figure you weren’t even sure was actually there.

You can hear shouting, maybe crying in the distance, the clang of beskar swords clashing into each other, men calling out commands, you aren’t sure what’s really happening, but it isn’t enough to pull your focus away from the dying boy. The radiant figure leans down over Din, and you close your eyes, looking up to the sky as the fat droplets coat your skin.

Mandalore was one of the wealthiest Kingdoms in the Land. It had a dishonest Queen, and a dying Prince. It had a broken Bride, holding its rightful ruler in her arms. It had a woman with olive skin, on her knees, two knights disarming her with a fateful blow to her jaw. It has an ancient castle, with winding halls of ornate paintings and corridors leading to secrets. It has a civil war in its courtyard, Knights who have already vowed to protect the wielder of the dark sword by oath, against knights who would never dare to see a foreigner sit in their throne.

The last thing you remember before passing out was being placed onto a horse, Clove, the same horse that you took out all those weeks ago. Your wedding gown is ripped and torn. On clove with you, was the Knight who was taller than you, who had broad shoulders and a steadfast look about him, the two of you riding into the tunnels of Mandalore.

Your knuckles go white as you grasp onto his shirt, not sure if you were dreaming or not. Is this life after death?

Or is it a rebirth?

—

The End.

—

Author’s note: I’m sorry for putting you through that. I promise though it will all resolve! In the sequel (drumroll please) Arsonist’s Lullaby

I’m a dirty sucker for holier songs as titles what can I say. ANYWAYS,,,

Here’s the first little bit of the Sequel! (As a treat)

—

Prince Korkie stares out of a foggy window, rain drops trickling down the glass. His face is in a permanent scowl, his body aching still from his recovery that he all but rushed. The sun hasn’t shone on the Mandalorian Kingdom in several weeks, the sky constantly overcast with a heavy fall of water that flooded the streets of Keldabe and is ruining the crop in the farms. Korkie’s jaw tenses, trying to breathe but constantly finds it futile because he hasn’t been able to fully expand his lungs ever since he suffered the piercing wound of a sacred sword.

“What do you want me to do?” The voice of the prime minister asked. His tone is tentative, nervous because anyone who has spoken with the boy in the last few weeks has faced the abuse of his words.

Korkie tenses his entire body, “I want…” The anger and seething evil cutting through his words, “I want every able bodied man under the oath of Mandalore to find them, and return them to me… dead.”

Vizsla swallows, “You wish us to end the occupation on the Sundari front?”

“Did I stutter, Prime Minister?” Korkie asks, turning around to face the man who questioned his word. “I do not care who must die in the process, bring them to me.”

—

K that’s all <3 thank you for everything. Kado out

—

taglist: @remmysbounty @snow30285 @what-iwish-you-knew @carbonated-beverage @baileys-corner @leaiorganas @weirdowithnobeardo @ginger-swag-rapunzel l @bewitchedbodyandsol @mograh @justavolcano @theokatz @lowkeytesss @hallway5 @news4bees @istealyof00d @songofcosplaY @mcueveryday @310ra @thatonedindjarinfan @songofseraphine @callmekane @theelilbritt @bbwithaknife @firstofficerwiggles @jedi-jesi @ironbabey @minttchipp @bel-ppa @cp11 @venomous-ko @bbwithaknife @lunatic-sunsets @1800-fight-me @foundtheavacados @elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @florenceivy @theanothersherlockian @spideysimpossiblegirl @mandosmistress @floraandfrost @paradoxpictures @stinky-child @goldielocks2004 @kenoobiwan @elinedjarin @uniquebiscuitmongerdonkey @artooies-scream @yuiopiklmn @epcotball @maryelizabeth13 @c4psicles-blog @adventures-of-a-noodle @colorlesswhispersunknown @staygolddindjarin @literallydontlook

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty six : crucifixion

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 12.7k

summary : judgement day.

warnings: major character death, above canon typical violence, very brief references to suicide, torture, body horror (briefly), feelings of despair, blood, wounds, general kodo grossness, vomit (reader vomits several times, it is never described in detail), language, angst, brief smut, pregnancy, death, reader is not doing well in this like she's at a breaking point, i may have missed some so feel free to let me know.

a/n: please read the warnings on this chap! it's the most serious of the bks updates, definitely a bit more intense than the rest. gonna work on getting 27 out within the next few day. i've been terrified of releasing this chapter since i started writing it so once i post this i'm going to dig a hole and sit in it and hide for a while lmao.

i changed my editing style so if there's spelling errors lmk!! apologies in advance!!

“My room is too big.” 

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh. You both just laugh for a few minutes, as if each other's company is the most amusing thing in the world. 

Once your giggles fizzle out you wait another moment before breaking the silence. 

“Where did you grow up?” You can’t see him but you can sense where he sits in the darkness, you crawl forward so you’re sitting between his legs, your own legs wrap around his waist. “I’m just curious.” 

“Aq Vetina.” You can’t recall anything about the planet. You aren’t even sure you’ve heard of it. 

“Do you remember your parents well? You don’t talk about them very much.” You put your hands on his shoulders, ever so slowly moving them up to his neck until you’re cupping his face. 

“I’ll never forget them.” He whispers. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. We can’t change the past.” You rub your nose against his, bumping them together as you hum and nod. “My mother loved ships. We didn’t travel, we never had a reason to, but she would take me outside and we’d watch ships fly past. I could never comprehend how she knew the name for all of them, it blew my mind.” You wrap your arms around his neck, staying silent in hopes that he’ll continue, he so rarely speaks so much. “My father worked a lot but he always made time for us, he was always home in time to say goodnight to me. He was always around when I needed him, he always provided for us. On his day off he’d spend the whole day cooking, I’d sit on the kitchen counter and tell him what my mother and I had done that week. When she’d come home we’d all eat dinner together.” 

“You sound like you were a happy child.” You can’t help but smile. 

“I never had reason to be otherwise.” He says it so matter of factly that you don’t doubt it for a second. He was loved. It only makes you smile wider.         

“What were you like, as a child?”

“Well behaved.” You immediately begin laughing once more. 

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it. My mother homeschooled me, she always made sure I had manners. I wasn’t particularly athletic or talkative so I didn’t play with other kids a lot. It was just me and mama.” He sounds far away, it makes you want to hold him close and never let him go.

“So what did you do all day?” Your tone has softened significantly. 

“I would sew.” 

“Be serious.” He’s the one who laughs now at the disbelief in your voice.

“I am! I would sit with my mother after my lessons and we’d sew.” His fingertips dance along the back of your neck as he reminisces. 

“What kinds of things?” You don’t tease. When you really think about it you suppose such a hobby is fitting for him. A task that requires precision and care. 

“I would help her make clothes and blankets that she would sell most days. On the weekends she’d let me do whatever I wanted so I would practice my embroidery.” 

“My heart is actually about to explode out of my chest, you’re so cute.” You put on a mocking tone but the thought of such a thing really does make your heart clench. “Little Din Djarin stitching his name into his clothes.”

“You’re a cruel woman.” He leans forward, knocking his forehead against yours, almost as if he were reprimanding you. 

“What sorts of things would you embroider?” Your tone goes back to genuine, you could listen to him talk about himself for days and you’d never get bored. 

“Whatever my mother wanted. I would ask her what I should do and then I’d stitch it onto her blanket or the hem of her skirt. Mostly flowers, she loved daisies.” You’re pretty sure one of your ovaries literally popped at the thought of a little boy with dark curls and big brown eyes sitting beside his mother and embroidering a daisy onto her skirt. Your heart flutters a bit as you think of the necklace he got you. The silver outline of a flower you now realize is a daisy. “If he was ever gone for more than one night for work my father would bring her daisies, one for each day he was away.”

“Do you still know how?”

“I used to fix Grogu’s clothes when he ripped them but I haven’t done much else since I was a boy. He says it with finality but you carry on, not wanting him to stop talking. 

“What were their names? Your parents?”

“Clara and Arin Djarin.”  

“Those are pretty names.”

“What was it like for you? You said you had seven siblings right?”

“Eight actually.” You think of them now. There were eight of you and your parents' love for all of you combined wasn’t even a tenth of how much Din’s parents loved him. 

“Do you like having a big family?” He lifts you off of his lap, laying you back down as he crawls on top of you, laying against your chest. 

“I love it. I miss my siblings everyday, do you think we’ll be able to visit them someday?”

“If it’s safe to, of course we will.” He tilts his head, if you weren’t in darkness he’d be looking at you. 

“I wish they had visited here. They would have loved you.”

“You think?”

“Are you kidding me? The younger ones would adore you.” You tangle your finger in his hair, scratching his scalp. “Kids just naturally like you.” 

“They just haven’t learned to fear me.” You frown when he says it like a fact.

“I think it’s more than that.”

“Yeah?” The hopeful tilt to his voice has you leaning down to press a kiss into his hair. 

“Kids are intuitive, they can sense that you’re a good person.” He tenses up as you tell him he’s a good person. You know exactly what he’s thinking about now, how he punched your husband and then refused to leave. 

Neither one of you wants to talk about that though, not today. 

“What kind of room would you want? Since your current room isn’t to your liking.” He’s quick to change the subject and you let him.

“In all honesty, I like the cabin, I wish we could just live there.” You run your fingers through his curls as you think about it, gently pulling through any tangles.

“My cabin?” His voice is full of uncertainty as he pulls back a bit.

“It’s nice.” You feel a bit defensive, you consider the cabin to be the closest thing you have to a home. “Can you imagine getting to stay on Naboo? We could spend our mornings walking the market.” You rest your hand on the back of his neck now. “We could get jobs in the city, and then at night we’d come home.” 

“To the cabin?” He still sounds rather skeptical of your hypothetical future. 

“I’d cook dinner, you’d do the chores.”

“The cabin’s a bit small for us.” 

“We’d make it a bit bigger, add a few bedrooms, we don’t need that much space.” 

“A few?” He turns his head, his lips brush against your collar briefly as he kisses you there, freezing up when you speak again. 

“At least two, one for us and then some for any little Djarin’s who might need space.” With that he sits up entirely, his legs straddle your stomach.

“Little Djarin’s?”

“And Grogu, he would come live with us as well.” 

“You’d want him to live with us?”

“Of course, he’s a little Djarin.” Your hands rest on his thighs now as he seemingly ponders above you. He hums to himself in silence for a moment and you can’t help but grin at how seriously he’s taking all of this. 

“How many?” He finally speaks again and you laugh at the bluntness of his question. 

“Kids?”

“How many would you want?”

“You go first.” You haven’t ever talked about this sort of thing so you want to gauge his answer first so you don’t scare him too much with all the kids talk. 

“Maybe five? Or six.”

“Six?” Your voice pitches up immediately and you feel a rumble in his chest as he laughs. 

“Or five.”

“How about two, counting Grogu.” Turns out you didn’t need to worry about scaring him off. 

“How about three?” Three is manageable. 

“Counting Grogu?” 

“Counting Grogu.” He seems satisfied with that. 

“I suppose we could have three, you’re the one who has to build all the extra bedrooms.” 

“I don’t mind.”

“I’d work at the library and you’d work in a shipyard, we’d take turns staying home with the kids.” You pull him back to you, taking his hands and dragging him to lay his head on your chest once more.

“I’ve got enough savings, neither one of us has to work if you’d like.” It sends a twinge of pain to your heart how real this conversation has become, knowing that this exact dream isn’t possible. 

You could always make parts of it real.

Someday. 

“I’d want to work, to get out of the house, but you could stay home if you’d like.”

“When they’re still ik’aad, at least for the first few years I’d want to be with them.” He’s going to be a wonderful father. 

“Then I’d work, not long hours, just enough to get me out of the house, when I come home I’d give you a break, you could do the shopping and I’d watch the little’s.” 

“We’d go as a family, I wouldn’t want ‘a break.’” 

“You’d want to wrangle three kids in the markets?” You scoff in disbelief but he continues to sound completely serious. 

“They’d be well behaved.” You seriously doubt that. 

“What about either one of us makes you think our children will be well behaved? Is Grogu well behaved?” 

“We’ll manage.”

“They’ll be wild.” They will, not they would. 

“And smart.” He sits up again, hovering above you to give you a quick kiss. 

“And happy.” There isn’t a doubt in your mind that your children would be happy with Din as their father. 

“You’d really want to live here? I could build us a house anywhere.”

“I like Naboo, at least everything outside of the castle. I don’t even mind the castle, I just don’t care for the people inside it.” It’s true, somewhere along the way this place grew on you immensely. You love the city and the people in it. “And they’d get to play in the garden.” 

“I would build you a cabin anywhere you wanted, and I’d plant you a new garden.” He kisses along your cheeks and forehead as he speaks. 

“You wouldn’t need to plant me a garden if we lived here.” You insist. 

“We can’t live here, mesh’la.” He rubs a small circle with his thumb against your cheek. “This is too serious now, we’re supposed to be relaxed today.”

“When did we agree on that?” You muster up a weak laugh. 

“It was a silent mutual agreement.”

“I’m plenty relaxed.” You mumble. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his stubble tickling you as you let out an airy giggle. 

“I’m actually very tense and I think we should take a break from all this talking and take care of that.” He mumbles against your shoulder.

“Oh?”

“Mhmm.” He emphasizes his point by pressing his erection against your hip, you hadn’t even realized that this is where he was going with that. 

“How long have you been waiting to jump me?”

“When we started talking about the five kids I was gonna put in you.” He continues to nip at your neck and shoulders as he speaks. 

“Skipping the agreed upon three and going straight to five already? You’re not even going to attempt to negotiate for four?” 

“So you’re open to four?” He pulls back and you can hear his smile. 

“Let’s start with one and go from there.”

“Right now?” His hips stutter down a bit against yours. 

“Maker, you’re insatiable.” You both burst into another fit of laughter. 

“What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

“I could get pregnant, and considering the lack of sex I’ve had with my husband I’m sure that might raise a few eyebrows.” 

“It would never get to that point, when we’re in the clear with this whole Kodo mess I’m getting you out of here.”

“Like… actually leaving Naboo?” 

“Exactly like that. I’m gonna take you far away from here when this is over, gonna keep you all for myself.” His hands move down, giving your hips a squeeze. 

“I’m already yours.” You laughed, rolling over to be on top of him. He’s right, if you’re going to leave anyway then what’s the worst thing that could happen? 

You never talked about that night after that. 

When everything sorted itself out you realized how crazy your fear had made you. You couldn’t just leave. At least that’s what you’d told yourself, now you feel like an idiot for not holding him to his words. It wasn’t realistic, you both knew actually leaving would take so much more preparation than a few whispered ideas during a time where neither one of you was in any position to be making such promises. 

It was just talk.

Lysa came to get you from the dining room. 

After everyone left you had no motivation to move, you just stood there, frozen in time. After a few hours she found you, she had taken your hand and walked you back to your chambers. She held your hand, she kept you upright when you threatened to crumble. And when you felt a wave of nausea ripple through you she rushed you to the fresher, a hand on your back as you threw up all over again. 

You sat breathlessly on the tile, Lysa rubbing your back.

“Gods, I’ve been nauseous since the wedding. Even before everything fell apart.” It’s the first words you’ve spoken since they took Din, your stomach is still churning. “This has never happened before.” You groan, you’ve had many moments of upset throughout your life, but none that made you physically ill. Lysa looks almost painfully worried. 

“Ma’am… is there a chance you might be…” 

Kriff.

You never talked about that night after that. 

Maybe you should have. 

You both did a lot of things during those days. You had been so angry, and he had done everything in his power to ease that anger, to keep both of you as happy as someone could be in your situation. 

You shouldn’t have used that as an excuse to be reckless. 

“I’d like to go to bed.” 

“Of course.” She helps you to your feet, walking you back to your room, you turn to her one last time before you close the door. 

“I’m sorry. Elaine never should have gotten involved in all this.” You’d trade places with her in a heartbeat if you could. 

“It’s not your fault.” She truly seems to believe that. 

Except it is. Elaine never would have found herself in this situation if she hadn’t so often been helping the two of you keep your secret. 

“Goodnight, Lysa.” 

“Goodnight, princess.” 

You lay on the bed, unable to bring yourself to sleep in the closet. 

It’s cold. Colder than Hoth, as you stare at the ceiling in your far too big bed in your far too big room. Even bigger now that it’s just you. 

You let your hand roam down your torso to rest on your stomach.

Just you, hopefully. 

☆

You’re now having nightly dinners with Kodo. 

You don’t get any respite from him, you just want to stay in bed. You’re nauseous and tired and your head hasn’t stopped spinning since that night. A million thoughts a minute. 

Where is he?

Is he okay?

What the fuck can I do about it?

Mostly that. 

The worst part is your lack of a plan. If the roles were reversed Din would have already rescued you and you’d be living happily ever after. 

But that isn’t how your story is going. Instead you are alone, with no scheme on how to get to him. It’s only been three days but it’s driving you insane, you have never known such hopelessness, it’s maddening. To sit alone in your room all day, staring at the ceiling until Lysa comes to dress you for dinner. Neither one of you ever speaks, afterall, what would you say to each other?

“I’m sorry the love of your life had been sentenced to die?”

How morbid. 

Not that you’re above being morbid. 

You think about it often. How easy it would be to drive your dinner knife into Kodo’s throat. You’re seated beside him now at dinner, both of you at the head of the table, joined by the rest of his family. 

The thought of killing him is the only thing that brings you peace these days. You’ve never once in your life been violent until now. Din is good. He’s a good man. In every way he is the opposite of your husband yet Din is the one locked away, Maker knows where, while Kodo is being rewarded. 

It doesn’t make you mad, it makes you furious. 

It makes you want to poison his wine. 

But you don’t have poison. 

And you can’t put yourself in danger. Because you feel fundamentally different, and even if you refuse to think that such a thing is possible you know you wouldn’t just be putting yourself in danger. There’s more at stake now. 

That’s what you tell yourself to stay calm, a feat that is getting harder by the minute as you’re sat beside Kodo who is currently bragging about how he defeated a Mandalorian. 

“They aren’t as strong as you think they are. Under the armor they’re weak, pathetic.” 

It took six battle droids to keep him down. You didn’t even get near him. 

“Some people just need to be taught a lesson, don’t touch what isn’t yours.” He sneers and the rest of the table erupts into laughter. “I certainly taught that horned bitch a lesson as well, you all should have seen what they brought me last night.” 

You perk up, this is the only thing they’ve said in days that truly matters to you. You’ve heard nothing about the current state of either of them until now. 

“What did they do to Elaine?” Everyone’s head turns to you, all their expressions look as if you’ve announced something treasonous but Kodo smiles as if he were explaining something to a child. 

“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” He puts his hand over yours when he says it. 

You don’t ask for any follow up. 

You don’t think you could stomach it, so you stay silent for the rest of your meal. When you’re finished you stand, the rest of the table is starting to pour more drinks but you simply lean down, mumbling something about being tired before giving Kodo a quick kiss on the cheek and dismissing yourself. 

You’re waiting for the night where he joins you in your chambers, after all his father is dead, but it has yet to happen. He had told you that once he was king he would be in need of heirs but he seems happy enough with his pleasure houses and you’re more than grateful for the women you entertain him so you don’t have to. 

So you return to your chambers alone, peeling off your gown before burying yourself under the covers. 

Sleep evades you as you toss and turn. You aren’t even tired, there’s too much going on in your mind, there’s no room for exhaustion. After about an hour you manage to drift in and out of unconsciousness, earning a brief reprieve from your anxieties until a sharp knocking has you jolting upright. 

You don your robe, rubbing sleep from your eyes as you rush to the door, you’re too tired to wonder who might even be bothering you at such an hour as you pull the door open. 

Lysa?

“We have to hurry, ma’am.” She grabs your arm, frantically tugging you into the hall. 

“Lysa? What are you doing? Are you okay?” 

“I am fine, but we don’t have much time.”

“Surely you have enough to tell me where we are going.” 

“Do you want to see him or not?” 

Din.

You nod, taking her hand as he rushes onward, stopping at each hall to peer around the corners until you make your way to a servants stairwell, skipping several steps in your descent until you run out of stairs. You’ve never been down here, you didn’t even know there were dungeons until recently. 

It makes your stomach twist in knots the moment you stare into the darkness. 

“Are there no guards?” You whisper, squeezing her hand.

“Not for the next hour, I’ve made sure of it.” She begins walking down the poorly lit corridor, pulling you along behind her. 

The stone floor is damp and it smells of mildew. Your bare feet are already freezing after just a few steps.

Every cell you pass is lit from the outside with a hanging lantern, they’re mostly empty, but you catch glimpses of movement out of the corner of your eye every now and then. In all honesty you’re doing your best to take in as little as possible, you don’t want to think about Din being down here in such a place, but there’s one element you can’t ignore. 

The wailing. 

Someone is weeping, a low, sorrowful song filling the vast maze of halls and you realize quickly you’re heading in its direction, Lysa tenses beside you as you continue on. You’re about to turn one more corner when she abruptly stops, turning to face you.

“He needs to eat.” She removes a fistful of rations from her apron pocket, shoving them into your hands. 

“He hasn’t?” He’s been down here for three days. 

“He won’t… let me.” You pause, cocking your head to the side and she gives you an apologetic look when she turns. “He won’t let me uncover his face.”

Oh. 

“I’ll feed him.” You nod slowly, tucking them into your own pockets before turning the corner. The contents of the cell immediately on your right have you stumbling backwards but Lysa is not swayed, pulling a key from her pocket, unlocking the door quickly before handing it to you. 

“He’s two cells down, on your right.” She doesn’t look at you as she rushes in, pulling a roll of bandages from her dress. “Shh… it’s okay, I’m here.” Her voice goes soft as she kneels beside Elaine. You can’t help it as you step into the entryway of the cell. 

Well, you’ve found the source of the wailing. 

She’s sat on a cot, curled in on herself as Lysa carefully peels back a series of soiled bandages from her face. 

“I’ve got you, it’s just me.” She continues to make an attempt to sooth a rather hysterical Elaine as she peels back the final layer of bandages and your stomach flips. “You’re okay, love, I need to change these.” You don’t know how Lysa is so calm, even in the darkness you can see the extent of her wounds. Now you know what they brought Kodo last night.  

Both eyes. 

“She was properly punished, the way someone who observed such a crime with no intervention should be.” 

Oh gods. 

You’re worried you may collapse as you watch Lysa tend to her with no hesitation, cleaning them with a careful hand before she begins to redress them. You can’t bear to watch any longer as Elaine begins sobbing once more. You try desperately to force the sight of your mutilated friend from your mind as you count down two more cells before quickly fumbling for the lock, letting it hit the floor as you take the lantern outside the door off its hook, bringing it into the dark room. 

It isn’t like Elaine’s cell. 

There’s no bed or interior light, it’s terribly dark and fetid, his cell running deeper than her’s. It takes a few steps for you to finally illuminate the room enough to see him. 

Maker. 

What have they done to your Din? 

You don’t hear Elaine anymore, there isn't a single thing that could distract you from the scene in front of you. There is nothing but the sight of your kar’ta. There’s too much for you to worry about, you don’t even know where to start, you’re frozen in place, a small part of your brain refuses to recognize the man before you as Din at all. He shouldn’t look like this. 

Armorless. 

They’ve stripped him of any clothing you recognize, the thought alone makes you nearly lose your dinner. 

They took his helmet, replacing it with a linen sack.  

Did they see his face?

You briefly have to shut your eyes, taking a deep breath as you take in the rest of him. His clothes are too thin, he must be freezing, they’ve dressed him in a cotton tunic and trousers that end just below the knee. You can see just how beaten and bruised he is. Unlike Elaine he’s in chains, kneeling on the floor with his hands shackled, taut above his head. You swallow the lump in your throat and finally crouch down in front of him, setting the lantern down beside you as you reach out to place a hand on his chest.

“Din…” Your voice cracks and the moment you come in contact with him he flinches back. Suddenly you know how Lysa held it together so well with Elaine, she just had to. You can’t fall apart, who would care for him now if you did? “It’s me, just me. Just me.” You whisper and place a hand over his heart but withdraw it quickly when he trembles under your touch. You ache at the sight of it but more than anything you’re confused, it only takes a moment for you to realize the issue. 

He doesn’t have his helmet. They’ve not only left him here blind, but deaf, of course any touch would frighten him. 

He assumes you're here to harm him. 

You lean in, careful not to come in contact with him as you speak clearly and loudly. 

“Din?” His trembling stops instantly. You find it a bit troublesome how much worse his hearing seems to have gotten in such a short time, you’re half tempted to reach under the bag to make sure he still has his ears. 

“Sarad?” Oh, Din. His voice is terribly small and it sends you forward, wrapping your arms around him as you pull him into an unreciprocated embrace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You make sure to speak loud enough for him before pulling back, placing your hands against the fabric covering his face. 

“Are you okay?” He coughs a bit as he asks and you almost laugh at how ridiculous the question is considering the state he’s in. Are you okay? 

Technically no. 

But far better than he’s doing. 

“I’m perfectly fine, what can I do for you? Are you hurting?” You feel his face through the bag as you look down across his body. It doesn’t look like there’s been any permanent damage outside of a pretty nasty cut on one of his legs. 

“Don’t worry about me.”

“Now’s not the time to play the hero, Din.” He flinches a little and you calm your tone immediately. What the hell did they do to him? “Just let me help.”

“How’d you get down here?” 

“Lysa, she says you aren’t eating.” 

“She’d have to lift my- the bag to do it.” He sounds apologetic, as if you could ever fault him for following his creed. 

“It’s okay… may I?” You bring your hands to the hem of the bag but his head turns sharply.

“I- I don’t want you to look.” 

You have no response. He’s always wanted you to look. 

“I just, I don’t think you wanna see the condition I’m in. I don’t want your only memories of my face to be this.” He whispers when you don’t respond.

You should have looked when he asked you to. You should have done a lot of things differently. 

You shouldn’t have waited so long to look. 

You shouldn't have waited so long to tell him you loved him. 

You should have just let yourself love him. Why did you fight it for so long? It seems silly now. If you could do it all again you would have just taken his helmet off the first night you met him and you would have married him right then and there. You would have left Naboo that night.

And you would never keep any of it from him. You would tell him how important he is and how loved he is, you wouldn’t make him wait. 

Even now you can’t help it though, censoring yourself out of fear. Do you tell him about how nauseous you get every morning? About the way Lysa stares at your belly when she does your makeup? 

No. 

It wouldn’t do either of you any good, not when he’s in this situation. 

You take hold of the edges of the bag once more, gentler this time. 

“I’ll close my eyes.” You lift the fabric completely off of him, setting it in your lap as you simultaneously shut your eyes. You keep one hand on his face, using your thumb to find the corner of his mouth as your other hand fumbles to open a ration bar. You feel him part his lips as you feed him. He’s barely chewing, eating quickly and swallowing most of it whole. “Have they fed you at all?” You whisper as he finishes the first bar in a matter of seconds, his teeth lightly scraping against your fingers before you withdraw them, tearing open another bar.

“No.” His voice is still soft as you go to feed him once more, opening each package until he’s eaten them all. 

“Are you still hungry? I could see if Lysa has more.” 

“I’m okay.” You let your head fall forward, resting your forehead on his. 

“What else can I do for you?” 

“Nothing. Being here is enough.” 

If you had felt helpless before it was nothing compared to this. This is more than helplessness, it’s despair. 

“I’m sorry.” You pull yourself further into his lap, wrapping your arms around him in the process. 

“Hey… none of this is your fault.” It certainly feels like it is. Why does he keep comforting you when he’s the one shivering and alone down here? 

“Please, there has to be something I can do to help you.” 

“There is one thing.” You almost open your eyes, you're so relieved, you just want to ease his pain. 

“Anything. I’ll do anything.” 

“I need you to promise me you won’t look.”

“Won’t look?” Your eyes are already closed, you couldn’t look any less if you tried. 

“When they do it. I don’t want you to see it- it won’t be pretty.”

When they separate his head from his body. 

“I won’t.” You can’t deny him this, you’ll give him anything he wants. “Do you know how much I love you?” You whisper before leaning forward another inch to kiss him. 

The question is genuine. It terrifies you to your core to think that he may not know just how much you love him. 

“Of course sarad.” He murmurs against your lips until you let your head rest on his shoulder, fighting back tears. 

What do you say now?

What do you say to a man condemned to death? 

“I love you.” You mumble into the thin fabric of his tunic. 

“I love you too.” After a moment more with him you hear metal jingling as Lysa locks Elaine's cell once more. You quickly pull back from him, pulling the bag back over his head, once you know he can’t see you anymore the tears flow freely. Lysa steps into the cell and you remove your robe, wrapping it around him, immediately he begins to protest. 

“Mesh’la, you can’t leave this here.” His voice is strained and it makes you sick to think he started crying once he was out of sight as well. 

“Please, y-you’re gonna freeze.”

“They’ll know you were here, sarad’ika.” 

“Din…” You’re practically babbling as Lysa removes your robe from his shoulders, an apologetic look on her face as she grabs your arm. 

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but we need to go.” Tears sting your eyes as Lysa urges you to hurry but you don’t want to leave him, you want to stay, no matter the consequence. You pull away from her, wrapping your arms around his torso. 

“You need to go.” His voice is urgent through the fabric as you cling to him tighter. 

Would it be easier to just stay? Get caught and join him at the executioners? You’re genuinely considering it when you feel your stomach churn once more and you’re reminded of the exact reason why you can’t stay. Before you lose your nerve and shatter completely you lift the bag, just enough to give you an eyeful of his split lip and bruised jaw as you gently lean in and kiss him one more time. 

Doing everything in your power to remember exactly what it feels like.

The curve of his lips and the shape of his chin, the overgrown stubble brushing against your skin as you press your face harder against his, desperation taking over as you taste salt on his lips. You hold him as long as you can, until you hear Lysa urging you to make haste once more. 

“I love you.” You press your forehead to his through the fabric, feeling the familiar shape of his face against yours. 

“I’ll always be yours.” 

That was the last thing he was able to say before you let Lysa drag you out of the dungeons. 

☆

It’s like everythings suddenly back to the beginning. 

You wake up alone, you go to bed alone, and you wander the castle alone.

There is no plotting or scheming to free Din. 

Even if you were a trained killer or bounty hunter, it would be more than difficult to get him out of the dungeon and on a ship off Naboo. It would be even harder to do so when you’re one of the most recognizable people on the planet. 

He is buried deep beneath the ground and there is nothing you can do about it. 

After all, you're just a doll. 

You don’t know when it happened but all your clothes are blue again. Every dress Lysa fetches from the closet is a different shade of blue and all your nightgowns are the color of the sky. A personal brand put on you by Kodo. It’s clearly more than just a preference now, it’s a reminder to you and everyone else that you’re his. 

And time blends. 

You know a date was set right around the time you visited him. One week until Kodo’s coronation and two until the execution. His first public event after being crowned king will be a death sentence, how fitting. 

So you wake. 

And you sleep. 

And you walk. 

Kodo never replaces Din and you haven’t seen Leo since that night, so you’re completely alone. It’s like he’s rubbing in the fact that you’re powerless. There’s no need for you to have a guard, you can’t leave. If you tried you’d be escorted back in an instant. 

You tried to convince Lysa to let you see him again last night. 

“Please, just a few minutes-“

“I’m sorry ma’am, it’s just not possible. The only reason I was able to get you down there the first time was because the guard that usually lets me in was working nights, he won’t be working nights again until next month.”

Din won’t live to see next month. 

“Is he eating?”

“He won’t let me-“

“You need to insist. Tell him I insist, and tell him you’ll close your eyes.” 

She pins back a bit of your hair, leaving half up and half down. You both bask in the silence for a moment.

“I’ll make sure he eats.”

“Thank you.”

That had been the last conversation you had with Lysa. 

She doesn’t come to dress you in the morning. You think nothing of it and dress yourself in the gown she’d laid out last night. It’s a bit difficult, putting your coronation gown on on your own but eventually you manage, when you’re fully dressed in the obscenely decadent blue fabric you begin to worry. 

You have no reason to assume that everything is fine. It would actually make sense for this to be a worst case scenario situation, everything else in your life is right now. 

You’re about to leave in search of her but you decide against it. Sitting at the vanity and doing your makeup as quickly as possible, the last thing you need to do right now is give Kodo a reason to be upset with you, you have to be presentable. You smear the shimmering blue eyeshadow across your lids before rushing out of your room. 

The halls are full. Servants move quickly from room to room, cleaning every inch as you carefully push through the crowds, making a beeline towards the dining room. 

Kodo is seething when you push open the large doors. 

He stands at the end of the table, shoving an armored guard as the veins in his neck jut out in his rage. 

“Where could she have possibly gone? She’s blind. You’re telling me some blind bitch outsmarted my entire guard?” 

Your heart flutters at the thought.

They escaped.

Your hope is shattered the moment Kodo begins speaking again.

“At least we still have the Mandalorian… I want security tripled, guards stationed outside his cell at all times.” He continues grumbling for a moment until he realizes you’re there. “Happy coronation day dear wife! I’m afraid we’ve had a rough morning here, somehow in the night the Togruta girl escaped, do not fret, we’ll find her.” 

God's you hope not.

Even if things are worse than ever regarding Din there is one flicker of light in that darkness. Lysa got Elaine out. Knowing that almost puts you at ease.

“Happy coronation day.” You actually manage a smile when you look at your husband, it’s weak but it’s genuine. You want to be mad that they didn’t help Din escape but you just can’t be. You know they most likely tried but if the roles had been reversed and you could only get one of them out you wouldn’t hesitate. 

So there is no animosity. Just a flicker of happiness for them.

They got out.

☆

You were under the impression that a coronation was a happy event. Yet when you step out onto the castle steps it seems to be quite the opposite. 

They look miserable. 

All of their faces are sullen and dejected. How shocking, no one is excited about Kodo being crowned king. He didn’t have any of the outside of the castle decorated or made presentable in any way. No one reacts when Kodo reads from an ancient looking book until a crown is placed on his head. 

A moment afterwards you’re instructed to kneel and a tiara is placed onto your head. 

The audience is silent and you feel shame when you stare out at them.

Even if you don’t have very much power you still feel as if you’ve failed them. The feeling follows you when you’re directed to the dining hall with Kodo.

“I have a couple gifts for you, wife.” His twisted smile makes your stomach turn as you enter the dining hall, now decorated with blue and gray banners.  

“A gift? You shouldn’t have, my king, I- I didn’t get you anything.” You feign remorse as you take a sip of the wine in front of you on instinct before spitting it back up into the cup. 

“That’s more than okay, you’re my gift, sweet wife, all mine.” The thought of such a thing makes you sick, you smile despite yourself. 

“That’s very kind.” You’ll only ever be Din’s. No amount of blue fabric and faux smiles can change that. He snaps his fingers and a large box is brought to you by a servant, they set it directly in front of you on the table. You look at Kodo who nods, sitting back in his chair as you stand, the box is wrapped in checkered blue paper, a large bow adorning the top. Your hands tremble a bit as you take hold of the edges of the ribbon, tugging on them until the bow slips free, much to your surprise the entire box falls open, the sides collapsing giving you an immediate view of the contents. 

The silver, shimmering contents. 

Din’s helmet. 

Polished like new, it sits before you, and the room suddenly empties. It’s as if you are completely alone, despite all the eyes that are most definitely pinned on you right now. Your hands continue to shake as your fingers wrap around the beskar steel, like you would when you held Din’s face, lifting it to glare into the visor. 

Empty. 

You can’t help but stare at your own emptiness reflected back at you. 

You want to hold it close, press it to your forehead but you’re snapped back to reality by the grating sound of Kodo’s voice breaking you from your focus on the helm between your hands. 

“That’s only one of your presents, open the next one.” He hisses gleefully. 

You set the helmet down, realizing there was another, much smaller box underneath it. Silently you scoop it up and cradle it in your hands. It’s a larger than a ring box, it just barely fits in your palm as you ever so gently open it, swinging the top open as if it were a tiny treasure chest.              

Huh.

It takes a moment.

You aren’t exactly sure what it is you’re looking at at first but when it registers your entire body tenses up, your grip tightening on the gift box. 

Bloody and pink, a tongue. 

Of course you know better than to assume Kodo would give you any old tongue. This is a special someone’s tongue. 

No, no, no, no, no. 

You had loved his tongue before anything else.

He can’t do this, he cannot do this to you.

You had fallen for his sharp wit first, it was what drew you into him. His sweet words had won you back, his declaration of devotion.

Now you hold all of that in the palm of your hand. 

“What do we say?” His nasally voice breaks through your mental anguish. 

No.

“Come on, where are your manners?”

Please. 

“Thank you.” Your whisper is nearly silent as you struggle to keep down the scream bubbling in your throat.

“What was that?” 

You clear your throat. 

“Thank you.” 

He makes you take it with you. You don’t bother telling him you won’t be attending the coronation ball in a few minutes, it’s not like you’ll be missed. 

In one arm you’re cradling his helmet, in the other the little blue box. 

You set each one down carefully onto the bed, even if it’s a bit demented these are the only parts of him you have left. You stare at the little box. 

You have never been hateful. 

Kodo made you into this. You are full of hate, for most things at this point. You hate your husband, you hate your room, and most of all you hate the little blue box on the bed. 

And the music starts. 

It must be deafening in the hall for you to hear it from your room but it’s there, loud and demanding of your attention. 

You’re moving before you even have a chance to think about it, in a few quick strides you’re standing beside the vanity, your hands gripping the top of the mirror as you pull it down in one swift motion, the contents spill everywhere and the glass shatters in an instant, shards splattering the floor but you take no time to process it. 

You move on to the next thing.

You yank each drawer from the dresser, throwing them to the floor, clothes strewn about until it’s light enough for you to push the entire dresser over. In your frenzy you go about the room toppling every stupid fucking table over. So many fucking end tables in  one room, and you throw everyone to the floor, trinkets and vases clattering to the ground as you destroy the room. You get a rush of adrenaline as you lift one of your nightstands and throw it against the wall leaving a small dent but more importantly the force of it makes anything hanging on the wall tumble to the floor, glass frames shatter. 

Your chest heaves as you stare at the carnage.  

And it isn’t enough.

Your face is wet with tears and your hands with blood from cuts you didn’t feel upon your skin as you tear open the closet door, the pile of blankets mock you from the floor, you grab them, your vision now blurry with tears as you pull them out of the closet, throwing them onto your bedroom floor. When you return to the closet you’re in a frenzy, you tear at the fabric before you, yanking each and every dress off their hangers, ripping what you can.

There is nothing else for you to do, so you destroy everything you can get your hands on until the only thing left untouched is your bed, left in pristine condition as you let out a small sob. 

Maybe you are a hateful person now. 

You feel as though you have every right to be at this point. 

You step over the shard of glass, giving your bloody hands a glance before wiping them on your gown.

Happy coronation day. 

You sit on the bed, your trembling fingers wrap around the helmet, now that you’re alone you waste no time to hold it against you face, until your body just gives up, too tired to stay awake anymore.

☆

A guard wakes you in the morning, knocking on your door, when you answer it they tell you Kodo requires your presence in his chambers.

You dress in a blue gown that you don’t look too closely at. Stopping at the fresher on the way, rinsing the dried gore from your palms, wincing as you clean your wounds. None of which seem too deep. 

You want to cut Kodo’s tongue out, to make him feel it. But you know that sort of thing would be an impossible task. So you daydream about it as you walk. You’re more than displeased when you open the door and are greeted by Leodall. You hadn’t seen him since that night and from the looks of it he wasn’t expecting you. He swallows loudly when you step inside Kodo’s room.

Normally you’d be curious, you’d probably take a look around but your eyes refuse to focus on anything but Leo as you scowl at him. 

“Why’d you do it?” You don’t hesitate to ask, you have no idea how quickly Kodo will be joining you. 

He simply stares at you, shame apparent on his face.

“You owe me an explanation at the very least.” You cross your arms in front of your chest as he clears his throat. 

“I thought he’d reward me.”

You laugh. A harsh dry sound 

“What could he have possibly given you that you couldn’t have just asked me for?” Your gaze never softens and you’re practically seeing red as you stare at him.

“I thought he’d give me a lordship.” 

You can’t help it as another crisp and pained laugh slips past your lips. 

“You thought Kodo would raise your status? I thought you were supposed to be smart.” Is he an idiot? “He doesn’t see servants as people, if you wanted such a thing you could have asked me, maybe I could have done something.” 

A glimmer of something similar to hope flashes through his eyes. 

“Would you- would you consider doing so now?”

“You cannot be serious-” Your expression goes from fury to disbelief as you stand. 

“It seemed worth asking.” He puts his hands up defensively as you storm up to him, poking a finger into his face. 

“You slimy little weasel, it should be you on the chopping block, not him. If it were up to me I’d have them put your head on a spike.” The words pour out of you like venom. 

“I would be nicer to me if I were you.” He sneers and your incredulity only grows. You can’t help it, you scoff in his face. 

“I would rather die.” A part of you really means it. 

“You might if you aren’t careful, I saved your life by letting Elaine and your Mandalorian take the fall, I could have told the king that you were a willing participant. I saw the two of you together, I read your little rules. He never forced himself on you. I wonder what Kodo might think about that.” You aren’t a fighter, you’ve never so much as thrown a punch in your life but you grab him by the collar of his shirt and slam him into the wall, the back of his head hits the stone and you don’t feel an ounce of remorse as you do so. 

“Do it.” You tilt your head to the side, almost as if you’re taunting him. “Tell him.” Any of the confidence he briefly had is gone in an instant. “The moment you do I’ll tell him that you’re covering your tracks, and that you made a pass at me. I wonder how Kodo would reward you for trying to touch what’s his?” Leo’s head turns as you both hear Kodo’s piercing voice in the hall. You release your grip on his shirt, brushing off your gown as you turn towards the door. Kodo and three others make their way into the room as Leo coughs behind you. 

“Dear wife, I have another gift for you.” He takes a step to the side, gesturing at a line of three people you don’t give so much as a glance. He doesn’t even seem to notice the obvious tension in the room. “A new staff!”

“I don’t need a new staff, I’m fine on my own.” You abandon the pleasantries. You’re in such a state of upset right now, what's the point? 

“You’re the queen now, staff is required. These three will replace the ones you've lost in a week, until then Leodall will be training them intensively to tend to your every need. Two guards will also be assigned to you but I promise they will be much less loathsome than your Mandalorian.”

All five of them will be trained to keep an eye on you. To report back to Kodo, after everything with Din you should have known he’d keep you on a shorter leash. 

You barely look at them. 

You hate them. 

You shouldn’t, they’ve done nothing wrong, but you hate them. 

You give each one a quick up and down, naming them in your mind. 

A BD-3000 droid commands the most authority just based on how she stands so you mentally note her as Elaine's replacement. You’ll call her new Elaine. 

New Lysa is a pasty young blonde woman with rosy cheeks. You truly wonder how well informed she has been on your circumstance. She’s smiling from ear to ear and seemingly couldn’t be happier to be here. 

And new Leo is somehow even more nervous looking than actual Leo, practically shaking like a leaf at the sight of you. The bags under his eyes are worse than your own. A lanky thing with messy brown hair. 

There’s no reason for you to fight this, Kodo always gets his way so why bother. So you nod. You don’t pretend to be grateful this time, instead you shove your way past all of them, content to return to your room and never leave. 

☆

The morning of the execution comes before you’re ready for it. 

Of course you didn’t sleep last night, how could you?

You dress yourself, apparently your new staff isn’t starting until tomorrow, not that you mind another day to yourself. You manage to find something that isn’t blue, a gray dress trimmed with gold, the closest thing you’ll find to funeral attire. No one else will dress with any respect for him but they can’t stop you. Your vanity is destroyed so you don’t bother with your hair or your makeup, you simply don’t care enough. 

For the most part you feel nothing when you open the door, only emptiness until you look down. 

Someone left you a small vase of flowers. 

You pick them up, taking a closer look but your heart skips a beat when you do so.

Daisies. 

After a few short breaths you throw the vase into the wall across from your door, tiny shards of porcelain fly everywhere as two servants at the end of the hall give you a look of horror. Your shoes crunch over the remains of it as you make your way down the hall and to the entryway of the castle. 

Kodo insists that the two of you get to see him first. 

You’re sweating wildly out on the steps as you wait.

Long before you’re ready for it they bring him out. 

A shivering skeleton of a man with a linen bag over his head, immediately bile rises in your throat. Kodo is grinning ear to ear when his legs are kicked out from under him and he’s forced to kneel.

Kodo himself reaches forward and tears the bag off, too excited for any decorum or finesse. 

You gasp as you stare down at the broken man before you.

In all honesty he isn’t at all what you envisioned. 

His eyes verge on being hazel; they're such a light brown. You’d always pictured them to be nearly black. It doesn’t matter what color they are though, when you see the tears forming in his lash line you flinch, clutching the ring on your necklace to silently let him know silently just how much he means to you. 

He’s a mess. 

You don’t like looking at what those weeks in the dungeons did to him and the last thing you need to do right now is empty your stomach on the palace steps. 

He’s too thin. Far, far, too thin, it’s like his entire being has shrunk down. He’s hollow.

Your breath hitches when Kodo grabs a fistful of his dark hair, forcing him to turn and stare at the crowd. They must have cut it while he was down there it’s a mess, jagged edges and shorter than you’re used to. 

“This man has committed an act of treason against the crown.” His voice is loud and booming as the city goes quiet. “For such a crime he shall face the proper punishment.” He yanks him downawards, you watch in horror as Din’s head hits the stone, an incoherent mess of sounds pour from his bloody mouth and you have to look away. 

He didn’t want you to look.

You remind yourself to try and calm your breathing. You can hear the scuffle as they drag him to the guillotine, placing his neck into the wooden divot, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest as you turn to look. His eyes are everywhere but on you as he looks at the people around him, desperately pleading for his life. Not a single person so much as glances at him, afterall, it’s just nonsense, no one can understand him without a tongue. 

You can’t stand it, you almost cover your ears but you manage to resist as Kodo puts an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. 

“You’re welcome, sweet wife.” He whispers, his breath hot and wet against your ear. 

Fuck it. 

You don’t suppress the shudder in your spine as you shoot him a look of disgust. In a matter of moments everything you care about will be gone, why pretend any longer.

A bellowing chime plays from a nearby clock tower and you know it’s time, you straighten up as you stare at the guillotine in abject horror. 

This is it. 

Your chest rises and falls in sharp short bursts as everyone prepares themselves, a hush forming among the crowd on the street. 

And it begins, a chain reaction that you cannot stop now that the executioner has his ax raised above his head.

You had expected more. More time.

A part of you thought that time would slow, that you’d have a chance to stop it. 

But no. 

There is no epic fairy tale moment where the sun glimmers off of the blade and the executioner raises his ax, giving you this perfect moment to run to him, to shield him from the inevitable, to beg them to take you with him. 

That moment never comes. 

You barely have enough time to close your eyes like you promised him. In one unbroken motion the rope is cut, the blade falls and boom. 

Just like that, he’s gone. 

When you hear the metal slicing through the air you squeeze your eyes shut, hearing only the wet crunch as it cuts through flesh and bone. A soft, squishy thud when his head hits the stone. 

In fashion with your decision to no longer hide your disgust from Kodo you vomit. Bending down you puke onto the stones, spraying your own, and Kodo’s feet. The triumphant smile on his face vanishes as he realizes what’s happened. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, refusing to look at Din’s limp body as you give Kodo one last look of detestation before turning around and running back into the castle, not caring what anyone thinks anymore.

The moment you’re inside the reality of it all settles in as you feel tears falling wildly as you run up the steps to your room.

☆

You have been good, and kind, and in return the maker rewarded you by killing the love of your life. 

So when you stand in the center of your demolished room you do the only thing your body can do at this point. 

You scream. 

From deep within your stomach, you scream, loud and raw. 

If anything was left unbroken in your room you’d be throwing it at the wall. But there’s nothing so you scream. 

You shriek.

You howl. 

And you wail.

You scream until there is no more noise. Your voice, like the rest of you, gives up. 

You aren’t sure how late it is when you finally stop. You’re tired and it’s dark outside and your throat is raw. 

And you lay on the floor. Because the bed is too big, and too cold, and the closet is so empty. So the only place left to sleep is there. You lay on the floor with no more tears to cry and no more sounds to scream as you stare at your bed, only from this angle can you see a rectangular shape under your bed frame. 

You wipe your nose with a stray piece of fabric before slowly crawling over to it, you sit on the floor and when you retrieve the item a brand new lump forms in your throat as you stare down at the box Din had bought all those days ago at the market. 

Your failsafe. 

With quivering hands you open it, staring into the small space containing a mess of items but what catches your eye is a piece of folded paper with your name on it. You take it between your fingers, opening it, careful to not let your tears fall onto it. 

Sarad’ika,

If you’re reading this then I’m afraid things aren’t going all that well for me. There are plenty of possible reasons as to why I’m no longer with you, but what’s important is that I plan on doing everything in my power to get back to you. There is only one thing in the galaxy that could keep me from your side, and if that is my fate then this box will ensure you’re taken care of. 

The most important thing is for you to get off this planet. I have included a few possible plans for you, do what you have to to survive. Elaine will help you escape. 

You can seek out Greef Karga on Nevarro. Tell him Din Djarin sent you, tell him what’s happened and he will see to it that you are cared for. Explain our circumstances and I am certain he will provide you with safe lodging. 

Tatooine is also an option. You’ll find a Mandalorian there by the name of Boba Fett, he will not turn you away. You will be protected there, if you need to relocate for some reason after that he will help you locate the Mandalorian convert. Show the Mandalorians your ring and you will be cared for the rest of your life, the convert will protect you. 

As an absolute last resort there is a planet located in the Outer Ring called Ossus. There is a school there, taught by a man named Luke Skywalker. I doubt he would be eager to take you in but you must insist. Bring the chainmail, they’ll know who sent you. Take care of each other. 

In this box you will find enough credits to get you off planet and take care of you for several months, a year if you’re frugal, I suggest you take a few jewelry pieces to pawn off for extra credits as well. You will find a small chainmail shirt, and a necklace of mine. 

And lastly you will find your vibroblade. 

Protect yourself. You’re strong, and more than capable of doing so.

I have one request for you, please, I will only ask this one thing of you. 

Be smart. 

You are the smartest and kindest person I have ever had the honor of knowing. Be smart, take care of yourself. If the roles were reversed I know that I would go to extremes to either get you back, or find justice for you. And all I can do is ask that you do not attempt any such thing, the only thing I would ever want for you is safety and happiness. 

So seek those things out. 

Be safe. Be happy.   

I was lucky to know you, and even luckier to be yours. 

an ner kar'taylir darasuum, 

Din

All my love. 

You flip the paper over, desperate for more, more Din, but all you find is scrawled coordinates to each location. Your fingers sift through the items, everything he promised is found inside but you latch onto the blade. Laying back down on the floor you clutch it between your fingers as you think of Din.

Din, who was yours.

Din, who they took from you.

Who Kodo, took from you. 

And your grip on the knife tightens. 

☆

Two guards stand outside your door round the clock now. 

They never follow you or come into your room but they’re there, silently watching as you direct all your anger at your new staff. As promised Leo trained them to be as persistent and infuriating as he was. 

When the two new girls come to fetch you in the morning you can’t help it when you scream at them to leave you alone and to stop trying to clean the ever growing mess of things. 

It doesn’t matter that it isn’t their fault, you can’t stand the sight of anyone. 

All three of them try. New Elaine and Lysa show up three times a day, trying to dress you and squeeze their way past you into the room but after enough shrieking they always leave you be. 

New Leo usually tries once or twice a day, you don’t even look at him. You always stare at the floor, when he tries to speak you give him the same treatment as the girls, screaming at him and slamming the door. 

Why should you let them in? You know what they are. They’re here to spy on you, to be Kodo’s eyes while he’s busy being king. They’re easy to evade. When you leave to fetch yourself food or a book from the library you easily outrun them. The two girls are worse at navigating the castle than you were when you first arrived and new Leo has a bad leg, sometimes he’ll make attempts to limp after you but they’re always unsuccessful. 

You think of nothing, day after day because there is nothing to think about. 

Except for the fact that Kodo took your future away from you. He took everything from you. 

If you thought time was blending before Din’s death nothing could have prepared you for now. You don’t track the days as well, you keep your curtains drawn and only leave when you get hungry or start to think of Din. The last thing you need to do is have another screaming fit so you keep him locked away in your heart, an ache that’s always there that you don’t address. 

One day, in a fit of tears you took your knife and decided on a whim to kill Kodo. You didn’t care about the repercussions at that point you just wanted him to suffer but the moment you opened the door you nearly tripped, stumbling backwards the guards didn’t so much as glance at you. 

Another vase of flowers.

You’re tempted to just kick them down the hall but you can’t help yourself when you lean down to pick them up. 

A bouquet of blue lilies. Your nose twitches at the sight of them, out of the corner of your eye you see new Lysa and new Elaine approaching so you take the opportunity to slam the little glass vase into the stone floor. Glaring at them when you do before returning to your room. 

☆

Maybe it’s been three days since Din died. 

Maybe it’s been three months. 

You aren’t sure.

You aren’t sure when you made plans to kill Kodo either but suddenly you have them. A fool proof way to get him alone. 

And suddenly you’re dressed for the first time in, well, however long it’s been. In a baby blue nightie with a robe you march out into the hall. The guards watch in silence as you walk away, your bare feet scampering down the stairs until you find yourself watching the main entrance. Waiting for your loving husband to make his nightly trip to a pleasure house, a trip that is typically accompanied by guards. 

You grip the handle of the knife in your pocket as you wait until you finally hear footsteps approaching. 

“Kodo, honey?” You step out from behind the stone column, holding your robe closed as you bat your eyelashes at him. He stumbles around drunkenly until his eyes focus on you. 

You’ve only used your voice for screaming for so long you sound meek, exactly as you want to right now. 

“Wife?”

“I thought maybe you’d like to join me tonight…” You hold a hand out towards him, putting on a sickly sweet tone of innocence. His mouth twists into a grin. 

“I knew you’d come around eventually.”

He doesn’t question where you’re taking him, he simply follows.

What a joke. 

You pull him up the stairs, you know from hide and seek where to find an empty room so you guide him there in calculated silence until he trips a bit, laughing to himself as he stutters.

“I knew if I got rid of the Mandalorian you’d realize how much better I am than him.” The statement doesn’t sit right with you and he can see it on your face, even in his drunken state he can sense your confusion. 

You both stop, you’re above him on the stairs as you turn and stare into his eyes.

“You- you knew?”

He simply nods, that sickening smile of his is plastered on his face. His icy blue eyes shimmer with delight. 

“How long?”

“When Leo told me I remembered everything. That little altercation in the hall when your boy knocked me out came right back to me, from there it wasn’t hard to figure out.” Your eye twitches as he speaks.

He knew you loved him and he took him from you anyway.

Any hesitations you had are gone as you nod, pulling him onward until you reach the large vacant tower room. He’s so drunk you decide to just drop the voice, pointing at a spot on the floor. 

“Lay down.” You mumble, reaching into your pocket once more.

He eagerly does as he’s told, laying down on the cold stone, you take a deep breath, in one swift motion you grab your knife, holding it behind your back as you toss your robe aside. He gives you a toothy grin as you ever so slowly walk to him, standing above him before sitting, straddling his waist. 

You look him up and down, one last time. 

Your loving husband. 

One of his hands plays with the blue lace of your nightie as you collect yourself. You look up at the ceiling briefly. 

I’m sorry. 

Not for Kodo, but for Din. This is exactly what he didn’t want you to do. 

You aren’t a killer. And you aren’t hateful, but a person can only be pushed so far before something breaks. 

Be smart. 

You think of Din’s note one last time before you bring the blade out in front of you and slam the blade into Kodo’s chest. 

He makes a sickly wet sound, coughing as he stares at you in shock.

You remove the knife, the hot steel cauterizes his wounds, there isn’t so much as a drop of blood as your face twists with fury and you bring it down again into his stomach now. 

How dare he look surprised by any of this. 

After what he took from you? He deserves galaxies worse. 

So you remove the knife. 

And you stab him again.

And again,

and again,

and again,

and again,

and again.

Until there is no more shocked look on his face. You don’t have a snarky remark or a statement to commemorate your revenge, you’re all used up at this point, all you have is this, this stabbing motion. 

He didn’t even have a chance to fight back.

You crawl off of his body, sitting on the stones as you toss the knife to the side, waiting for a rush of euphoria. 

But it never comes. 

It doesn’t feel as good as you thought it would. 

Staring down at Kodo’s lifeless body. You let yourself crumble. Collapsing down onto the floor, gasping for air as you sob. 

This was never going to bring him back. 

You lay there on your hands and knees for quite some time, just wailing, because what else are you supposed to do right now? You realize far too late that this was never an act of malice, some demented and shattered part of you thought that this would somehow bring him back, that it would give you peace. 

They won’t execute you. 

You planned this exactly so they wouldn’t.

Kodo didn’t tell anyone about your relationship with Din in much detail, not enough for them to assume that you could be with child. Everyone will assume that it’s Kodo’s. They won’t kill you, they can’t. 

Not if they think you’re carrying Kodo’s child. Now that Kodo’s dead, there’s no one to tell the royal family that you never consummated your marriage, your child is the most well protected person on the planet. The future monarch. It’s almost funny, you haven’t permitted yourself to think about the stirring within you as a child until just now, in this moment of weakness. A child, your child. 

Who will most likely grow up without a mother because of the decisions you've made today.

You bite your fist, swallowing a scream as you sit back on your heels. 

Your child will never know how loved they were. Your little one will never get to sit beside their mother while their father teaches them to sew. You put your head in your hands as you wail, no longer caring who hears. Your fate is sealed, what does it matter? 

You don’t turn when you hear someone coming up the stairs. When they pull you into their arms you try uselessly to shove them away. Your vision is blurry and filled with tears as you stare up at the unfamiliar figure now holding you. They rub your back, drawing swirls and stars against your spine as they pull you closer. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” They mumble into your hair. You dry your eyes hastily on your sleeve, confused by the voice you’re hearing, it’s painfully familiar, on instinct you wrap your arms around their torso, pulling yourself into their lap as you both sit on the floor beside Kodo’s body. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

“I’m- I’m sorry.” You whisper against the stranger's shirt. You knew you weren’t hateful. You’re certain of it now because even though he took quite literally everything from you, you still feel bad when you look at Kodo. 

A large hand cups your face, pulling you back to their chest so you can’t see the corpse anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it- I- I didn’t mean to kill him. Well I did but I just-” You begin to ramble as a fresh flood of tears begin sliding down your cheeks. 

“Hey- hey it’s okay. I know you didn’t mean it. We gotta get you cleaned up, okay? I’ll take care of this, I’ll fix it.” Their arms tighten around you, giving you a reassuring squeeze. You finally find the courage to look at your companion and it takes a moment for you to even realize who you’re looking at. 

New Leo. 

Why would he help you? You treat him like shit. When you look at him he looks like he’s about to cry and for the first time since Din was taken from you drop the walls you’ve put up and you let yourself feel bad for him. You show an ounce of kindness to him because in all honesty he’s the first person to make you feel safe since the night Din was taken from you. 

A lighthouse while you sail through a storm.

So you hug him. 

You pull yourself closer to him and you offer him a comfort you haven’t known for days.

“I’m sorry… for all of it, but especially the flowers, I should have told you, I just- you wouldn’t let me and the guards wouldn’t let me in without your permission and you just wouldn’t look at me.” He begins to mumble his own apologies, sending a surge of confusion through you. 

You furrow your brows, pulling back once more giving him a perplexed look as you search his nearly black eyes for some kind of answer. 

And it clicks. 

All at once it snaps into place and you want to say his name, so desperately, but you’re terribly afraid of being wrong. 

And then he smiles. A soft smile that makes you feel okay and you don’t even care if you’re wrong and you don’t care if it doesn’t make sense you just have to ask.

“Din?”

☆

a/n : yeah so uhhhhh yeah uhhhh this is the first chapter i've ever written where im actually very fond of the writing and nervous about the plot stuff so im gonna go hide?? and just vanish for a while lol

//

I don't have a tag list anymore !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates!!

[luckbealincoln]

Best Kept Secret

chapter eleven : he loves me not

THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 4.6k

summary : something has changed in your relationship with the mandalorian

warnings, etc. : language, angst

Something is wrong. 

All day it’s been wrong. 

He’s different. Distant. 

You can’t help but wonder if you went too far last night, he had seemed skeptical at best when you had presented him with the idea, and then the sex.

Sex had always been special with him, no man has ever given you the rush of fire in your veins like Mando. But last night was… somehow even more intense than ever before. Like he had wanted to burn himself into you, permanently. 

A small part of you wonders if he did. 

But it doesn’t matter because you can’t ask him about it. He won’t even look at you. His helmet faces you but you’ve learned how to tell if he’s really looking at you. There’s a certain chill that runs down your spine, it isn’t there now and you know deep down that he’s looking right past you. 

The real giveaway that something is amiss is his voice. There is none of that familiar fondness that you had grown accustomed to. His greeting is short and he makes no attempt to speak to you in the library, so you read. Maybe he just needs space.

At least that’s what you tell yourself as you close your book, not even realizing you’d finished it until you peer out the window, the sun is setting and you realize you’ve spent the entire day in silence. He didn’t read today, he just sat across from the nook like he used to do. 

“Is everything okay?” Your voice almost sounds hoarse from not using it all day. 

He doesn’t even offer up a verbal response. Just a nod. 

Okay so you fucked up. The birthday thing might have been too far, too… personal. That’s fine, you can fix this.

Except you can’t, because when he walks you back to your chambers you lean against the doorway and give him a small smile.

“Hey, you know you seemed pretty stressed today. Maybe I could help with that?” You brought your hand up to his arm in what you had intended to be a comforting gesture but he flinched away like you had burned him. You immediately drop your hand. 

You can’t pretend that doesn’t sting. 

“Did I do something wrong?” You wish your voice didn’t sound so wounded as you say it. 

“No, not at all. You should get some sleep.” His arm gestures inside and that’s when you know he’s lying. Because the helmet isn’t even facing you now. He isn’t even trying. But you don’t argue. Maybe he just needs space.

Tomorrow will be different.

It isn’t of course. He’s the same. If not worse. 

Today you only get one word out of him.

“Good morning Mando.”

Nod.

“Library?”

Nod.

“You might like this book, the main character reminds me of you.”

That doesn’t even get any sort of reaction. 

“Are you mad at me?”

“No.” 

That’s it?

“Okay.”

Nothing.

“I think I want to turn in early…”

Nod.

“Good night Mando.”

Nothing. 

And now you can’t sleep. 

Because you feel like you’ve done something wrong. Which is stupid, you shouldn’t feel that way, especially regarding your relationship with him. There is no relationship, besides friends. Friends who take care of each other in several ways. 

Are you even that anymore? How are you supposed to keep track of the persistently changing status of your friendship with the Mandalorian when he can’t seem to stop being indecisive. 

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover. 

Lover? Is that the right word for what he is? It feels right but at the same time like it shouldn’t be spoken aloud. Something about the intimacy of the word makes it difficult to connect to him. Like you’ve put up barriers to specifically separate him from the word.

Why can’t he just pick one and stick with it? Preferably he would choose to be your friend. 

That’s what this is isn’t it? 

That’s what you want? 

You’ve deliberately been forcing that label on to him, so it has to be true. He is your friend. 

Then why do you feel hollow now that he’s suddenly shut you out? Not sad, not angry, just… hollow. Like something is missing. There aren’t a lot of words that can describe the empty ache in your chest. 

Today he wasn’t your friend. He wasn’t even your rival, he went a step further than that, separated himself from even that shred of connection you two had built your entire bond on.

Today he was just your bodyguard. 

Weeks of slowly built up companionship gone in an instant because what? You threw him a birthday party? Surely that can’t be it. Yet seemingly that is the case. What was it he had said to you that night? 

You shuffle through your blankets before finding the book. You were practically using The Smitten Paladin as a diary at this point. You had bookmarked the page with the necklace, scrawled it above a random chapter title in hopes of remembering it.

ner kar’taylir darasuum

It had been branded in your mind the moment he said it. The moment he had dismissed himself you had written it down, something about the way he had said it had made it stand out to you. Most of the time when he spoke to you in Mando’a it always seemed like he couldn’t help himself. Like the words were forcing their way out of him.

But not this.

This was the first time you truly believed he had intended to say those words. They didn’t fumble out clumsily like he couldn’t form sentences in Galactic Basic fast enough. No, he had said this with a reverence that settled deep in your bones, like you were a priestess and he was confessing his sins.   

Maybe that’s why he was being so cold. You had previously gotten into an argument when he had called you sarad’ika for the first time, maybe this is like that. That still doesn’t make sense though because the only reason why he got so mad was because you had asked what it meant. You assumed you were past this sort of thing though.

Maybe you had done nothing wrong. Maybe he was just angry for the sake of being angry. 

You’ll ask him tomorrow, you’ll put your foot down and make him talk this out. 

✩

You don’t even get a chance to chastise him for his frigid demeanor. 

You’re already in a bad mood when Elain and Lysa come to dress you in the morning, and your mood only gets worse when they bring an electric blue dress out of the closet and you realize what day it is. 

By the time you’re leaving your room you’ve practically got steam coming out of your ears, when you give the Mandalorian a dismissive “good morning” he returns your greeting with an unmistakable sorrow that gives you whiplash. The last two days he had been cold and dismissive at best but this was new.

He sounds miserable. 

Your anger dissipates almost instantly when you notice the distinct tilt of his helmet towards the floor. What if you’d been wrong? What if you’d done nothing to upset him and instead he had just been having a rough couple of days. Shame washes over you at the thought and you shoot him a sympathetic look, your immediate reaction is to comfort him.  

“We don’t have to go to the library, you know. If you want we can do something else.” You don’t make a move to touch him, even though you want to, you say it almost like you’re trying to comfort a wounded animal,  like you don’t want to scare him off.

“I don’t mind the library.” It’s never been easy to read him, not being able to see his face has always put you at a disadvantage with this sort of thing but right now it’s like there isn’t a barrier of steel between you at all. It’s like you can view him clearly, and what you see makes your stomach churn because he’s got the same tone of voice that your parents had the day they told you you were being sent away. Someone who's avoiding delivering bad news. 

“Okay.” You lose all the motivation you had to talk to him, consumed by the uneasy feeling in your gut as you make your familiar trek to the library. You sit in the nook, instead of finding a book you lean against the glass of the window. A subtle sadness settles in you as you watch the grounds, occasionally a servant will walk by, or a critter might scamper out past the edge of the forest for a moment before retreating back to the treeline. You stay like that for hours upon hours, you don’t realize how long you’re staring until you feel yourself almost dozing off as the sun sets, you wake up with a start and decide to busy yourself with a task. Abruptly standing up you start wandering through the shelves. 

The library is vast. It’s easy to forget how big it is since you usually stay in the same spot. It’s a maze of shelves once you get into it. It’s actually surprising to you how little you’ve actually explored considering how much time you spend in here but your nook is only a few shelves back from the entrance and most of the fiction novels that interest you are kept near the front so now that you’re actually exploring further you’re taken aback by the sheer expanse of dark polished wood and literature. 

It probably wouldn’t be noticeable if you weren’t already on edge but he’s standing further back than usual. It’s just a few steps but it pushes him out of your peripheral vision.

All those days you had spent wishing he would just give you some space only for it to finally happen and you can’t even enjoy it. A small part of you misses your steel shadow. 

But that’s not important now. Right now you need to stay focused on the task at hand. Your strides get smaller and smaller as you get into linguistic books.

Perfect. 

Your fingers trace the spines as you turn your head to the side to better read the titles. Someone must dust at night because your finger is spotless when you pull it back. 

One of the few perks of Princess Harand, this library is, for all intents and purposes, completely yours. Kodo certainly doesn’t read, you’ve already discerned that he finds it to be a waste of time, his family seems to share that opinion since you’ve never seen another living soul in here besides you and Mando. That’s why you can’t hold back the look of disbelief when you get to the “M’s” and there is a single empty place where a book should be. 

You don’t have to speculate, you know who took it. You turn to stare at the culprit. 

“Did you take the Mando’a translation book.” It isn’t a question, it’s a statement, as you cross your arms. 

He doesn’t speak for a moment, just staring blankly at the absence of a book. 

“Yes.” It’s strained, he sounds worn out. 

“When?” You want to take a step towards him but resist, opting to lean against the stacks instead. 

“A while ago.” He’s lying. It’s nearly imperceptible but the helmet shifts ever so slightly to the left when he says it, like he’s looking away. 

“What day? Was it the night of your birthday?” You shouldn’t be interrogating him, it feels wrong when he sounds so weary but you need to know. 

“It wasn’t my birthday.” 

“How do you know? You said you didn’t keep track, it very well could have been.” It’s a weak excuse but it’s better than nothing, he doesn’t respond for a beat so you keep going. “Was it? After we had sex did you come here and take this book?” The helmet turns further to the left. “Did you?”

“Stop it.” He’s clenching and unclenching his fist methodically.

“Answer me and I will.” 

“I took it before then.” There’s that familiar electricity in his voice. His fist stays closed this time and you can’t help but feel a fleeting sense of relief that he’s showing the faintest bit of emotion. 

“We agreed we wouldn’t lie to each other.” 

“When?” The helmet finally turns towards you. It’s funny, missing the feeling of cold steel being turned in your direction. 

“When we played the game. We said no lying, so tell me the truth.”

“You want to hold that over my head? Some stupid game?”

The game isn’t stupid to you. 

It’s one of the few things you’ve found enjoyment in these last few weeks. 

But you aren’t here to defend the game, you’re here to get answers. 

“You aren’t denying it.”

It only takes two of his long strides for him to tower over you. 

“It doesn’t matter when I took the book.”

“It matters to me.” You take one small step forward to press your chest against his, scowling into the thin black line on his helmet. He scoffs.

“A lot of things seem to matter to you that shouldn’t.” He turns on his heel and you find yourself missing the heat of his body, but not for long as his words sink in.

“What the hell does that mean?” You can feel your voice going up at the end of the sentence as your fury starts to boil over but he’s already walking away. 

“You’re going to be late for dinner. Come on.” He doesn’t bother turning to see if you're following as you stay hot on his heels.

“Wait a second, we aren’t done with this conversation.” You have to hike up your skirt to keep up with his pace now as he weaves through the shelves, you’re grateful that he remembers the way out though, you can easily see yourself getting lost here. 

“We are.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” You walk briskly in furious silence until reaching the large wooden doors. You don’t have any time to argue further because he’s opening them and continuing his beeline towards the dining hall. You can’t help yourself as you grab his arm and pull him to face you. He does but you know it’s of his own volition and if he wanted to he could just keep going so you need to make these next seconds count before he changes his mind.

“What is going on with you? Everything was fine and out of nowhere you got all… weird. It’s like you’re a ghost these last few days, just walking through walls and observing me.” You whisper yell at him, no one is in the corridor but it’s best not to risk it. 

“Nothing is wrong with me. Now go, you’re going to be late.” He motions at the ornate doors but you stand your ground. 

“Promise me we’ll talk about this tonight.” He doesn’t move, just stares at you as you glare right on back, unwilling to break first until after an eternity he sighs.

“Fine.” The static is low and impatient. 

“Say it.”

“What?”

“Say that you promise. I’m pretty sure your creed has something in it that means you can’t break it.” You have no idea if that’s true but you need to hear him say it. 

“I promise that we will talk tonight.” He sounds almost defeated but you’re satisfied as you enter the dining room. 

The first red flag is that your husband doesn’t immediately greet you. He loves the sound of his own voice, so why is he silent? Kodo raises his glass at you with that unsettling smile plastered on his face as he motions for you to sit. You cautiously take your seat and find comfort in the fact that he doesn’t dismiss Mando this time as he takes his familiar stance behind your chair. 

The second red flag is the realization that he’s drinking water. He hadn’t even been sober during your wedding ceremony yet here he was, as steady as you’ve ever seen. 

The third red flag is that the first thing he says is a question directed at you as a servant brings you a plate of what appears to be some sort of fowl. 

“Did you have a good day my dear wife?” There’s a sickly sweetness to his voice and you can feel the fainest perspiration forming on your skin. 

He doesn’t know. 

“It was perfectly fine. Just another boring day in the library.” You stare at your plate, picking at a tomato slice with your fork, you suddenly have no appetite despite not eating today. 

He simply hums in approval and eats in an eerie silence. It’s the first time in your marriage where you actually wish he would just say something. The only noises in the room as you eat are the scrapes of his knife against his dish and the occasional vulgar chewing noise from him. He always chewed with his mouth open. 

Dinner comes and goes. 

Plates are taken and you sit staring at him expectantly as he loudly sips at the water in his glass. You’re about to stand and dismiss yourself from this hellishly awkward supper but he clears his throat and you're frozen in place.  

“I’ve heard some rumors going around, my sweet wife.” He sets the glass down and stares at you, a glint of something viscous in his eyes. 

He doesn’t know. 

“Oh? Something about your brothers? Or you cousins?”

“There are rumors that I am cruel to you. Am I cruel to you, wife?” 

“No, you are a wonderful husband.” It’s not your most convincing lie. 

He couldn’t possibly know. 

“Then why am I also hearing rumors that you were seen in the markets with another man.”

For the first time ever, it’s freezing cold in this castle. 

“I-I went with Mando, he’s my guard of course he was with me.”

“Arm in arm. I believe this is how it was described.” He finally motions for a servant to bring over a bottle of a sickly brown rum, the thick liquid filling his now empty glass. “He’s the help my dear, sweet wife.” He points at Mando, standing silent as ever behind you, it makes you sick that he talks about him like he isn’t even there. “He is to walk behind you, not next to you. It says things to observers when you allow him to walk beside you.”

“I didn’t mean for it to say things he was just doing his j-”

“People love to talk. And you wouldn’t want people to say that I cannot control what is mine, do you? Of course that can’t be the case because if it was that would mean that I have been humiliated. ” He says the word with a venom you have never heard from a living thing before yet you are certain you will hear it again in your nightmares.  

“That was never my intention I only meant to-”

“Do you know, sweet wife, what the most dangerous thing in the galaxy is?” 

“...No.”

“A humiliated man.”

You don’t have a response as he takes what you assume to be his first sip of alcohol tonight. You’re waiting for him to drop the bomb. To reveal that he knows but he doesn’t and you find yourself releasing a breath that you didn’t realize you’d been holding in.

He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t even suspect.

He’s just threatened. This is an easy fix. Apologize and just be more careful with Mando. 

“I’m sorry my prince.” You put on the most convincing frown you can. “I didn’t realize but I’ll be more careful from now on. The last thing I’d want to do is upset you.” As you wait for his response he downs his entire glass before letting out a satisfied sigh. 

“Of course you will. You’re dismissed.” He waves you off and you immediately stand before rushing out of the room, you’d almost forgotten Mando was with you until you catch a glimpse of him as you make your way out. The last thing you hear is Kodo muttering to a servant to find his brothers so they can go out.

The relief you feel once you're out in the hallway is immense. You don’t get to enjoy the small victory for long because Mando is already marching off towards your room. You don’t say anything until you’re in the safety of your room, he walks in first and once you close the door behind the two of you, you turn to face him, ready to crack a joke about how that was a close call, maybe relieve some of the tension that’s been building between the two of you but he speaks first. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” You find no comfort in the familiar crackle of the modulator as he stares just off to the side of where you’re standing.

“What? It sounds like you’re outraged but you genuinely don’t know what he means.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” He says each word slower. Enunciating every syllable. 

You manage to keep the look of betrayal off your face as you feel something crack deep inside of you.

“Like… be my bodyguard?” You sound like a child. Your voice is small and fragile. 

“No. I’ll still be your bodyguard. I just don’t want to… you know.” He gestures slightly with his hands and something about the way he says it ignites that flame inside you.

“Why won’t you say it? Are you ashamed of what we did?” There’s an edge to your tone. A bite. “Because you seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit.” 

“You know what I’m talking about. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” He’s already leaning towards the door and you can feel a sense of panic filling your stomach. You can’t just let him leave. 

He doesn’t get to do this. Insert himself into your life, make you care about him, fuck you, and then just leave. 

“What is your problem?” You snap at him, you mean for it to sound forceful but it comes out more like a plea.

“I just don’t want to do this anymore.” 

“Yeah, you keep saying that. What happened? We were fine, I would even argue that we were happy and now suddenly-”

“There is no we. ”

Ouch.

He’s right of course. 

“Is this because of the birthday? I told you if you didn’t want to do that we didn’t have to.” You’re starting to sound desperate as you stare at him with wide eyes, wanting an explanation more than anything else. 

“No. You didn’t do anything. I just… I don't want to anymore.” He crosses his arms. He sounds tired. Like he hasn’t been sleeping. You sound the same way. He takes a step towards the door but you immediately take a step in front of him.

“Bull shit. You- you said things, you called me those things. Don’t act like you suddenly changed your mind.” It isn’t fair. You know that you sound like a child throwing a tantrum but he can’t just do this to you. 

“Stop it.” 

“No! You don’t get to do this! To say the things you said and then without warning just decide we aren’t even going to talk to each other anymore.” You shove his chestplate but he doesn’t so much as flinch. “I deserve to know what I did. What made you change your mind?” Tears are pooling in your lash line and you want to scream at yourself for letting him see how worked up you were getting. 

You shouldn’t care this much. You’re the one who wanted this to be casual, you know that. This shouldn’t matter. You’re supposed to be just friends. Yet you can’t just let him leave. 

  “Stop.” You can’t prove it but you’re pretty sure his voice cracks, the modulator seems to catch it. 

“Just tell me! You said we were friends, be my friend right now, tell me what’s going on, for Makers sake, just tell me!” 

“I don’t want you anymore.” His tone is harsh as the visor burns in your direction. 

Oh. 

Any response you might have dies on your tongue. 

That cracking feeling is back. It threatens to tear you apart. 

Just friends. 

You knew you were lying to yourself when you said it. 

You can’t hide from it anymore.

The pain you feel in your chest can’t be ignored, you can’t keep denying it.

He was never just your friend. 

But that doesn’t matter now. Because he doesn’t want you.

You could hear a pin drop in your room. You’re about to say something, you don’t know what but the words are starting to take shape when he speaks again.

“I was… bored. You were entertainment.” There’s no tremor in his voice now. But he won’t look at you anymore. “I just needed something to distract me from how boring the job was and you seemed like the easiest thing.” 

That pulls you from your shock.

“ Easiest? ” You practically snarl the word and he starts stuttering as he tries to backtrack. 

“You know that isn’t what I meant. You were just, I don’t know, available? You were here. And I was bored. But now I’m not.” He sounds like he’s trying to rationalize the insult to soften the blow but it only serves to drive the knife deeper. 

“You’re lying.” You whisper the words at him, the tears are moments from spilling down your face at this point. He lets out an exhausted sigh.

“I don’t want you.” He says it with a finality. “I’ll still be here to protect you, I’m not going anywhere.” Somehow that’s worse than him just leaving entirely. 

“You’re a liar. Why would you stay if you don’t want me?” Your voice is starting to pitch up. It’s pathetic, you wish you could hide behind layers of steel like he does. Impenetrable walls to keep those who mean you harm at bay. 

“The money.” 

That’s really all it takes to convince you. You feel like an idiot. Of course he’d do anything to keep you happy, this was probably the best paying job he’d ever had. He had entertained himself with you and you had let yourself get caught up in a fantasy that it might be more than that. It’s the final nail in the coffin. You blink and the tears finally fall. His voice is cold and unsympathetic when he speaks again. 

“I thought you understood what this was.” 

“I did. We’re just friends.” 

Now you’re the liar.

Even if you don’t let yourself think it, you’ve always known that was a lie. 

“We aren’t. This is my job . We were never friends, I was just trying to keep you satisfied but clearly I went too far. You aren’t my friend. You aren’t my anything.” 

Ouch. 

“I think you should leave.” You wipe your face with the back of your hand as you walk towards the closet, not bothering to watch him leave. As you turn the door handle you hear the faint crackle of the modulator, like he’s going to say something but you close the door behind you before he gets the chance. 

You don’t bother taking your dress off as you collapse in a heap onto the blankets and pillows.

You shouldn’t let yourself hope that he’ll come to you. Apologize, or even just keep you company. Of course he doesn’t. So instead you bury your head into a pillow and cry until there aren’t any tears left. Then you stare at the ceiling in the darkness. Trapped alone with your own thoughts. 

Bodyguard, rival, friend, protector, confidant, lover, nothing. 

You aren’t his friend. 

You aren’t his sarad’ika.

You aren’t his anything.

tag list (dm or reply asking to be added if you'd like!!) : @stagerightlauren - @dins-riduur-anthe - @littleguy-bendy - @rarachelchel - @laurensnotsparkly

[ronnieiswriting]

While I did (and still kinda do) intend to write a fantasy au for the mandalorian with a princess reader- its been left as a few notes and chapter fragments in a doc. HOWEVER, I do have these few drawings I made while I was writing to get a feel of the look of Din and Grogu in this universe. Din is meant to be a sort of glorified bodyguard- far below the rank of knight but above that of a soldier. Grogu is a boy that hangs around the castle grounds as a run around- transporting messages, chasing rats, feeding horses, that kind of thing- and of course, he has magical powers (and a strong attachment to Din and the metal pommel of his greatsword x)