#dyn jarren image

[loridrabbles]

For the Mandalorian, can we get something about him finding out reader/oc is pregnant with his baby? Your content is the shit btw. Waters the crops and clears the skin ❤️❤️❤️

Tiny Helmet | The Mandalorian x Reader

Thank you my dude. Ily

   (Y/n) was giddy with excitement. She sat on the edge of her tub waiting for the longest five minutes or her life to pass. Two pregnancy testers lay on the counter by the sink developing the results next to the timer. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and thought about the last year of her life.

     She met Dyn Jarren as she was on the hunt for her next target. Turns out, he had a tracking fob for the same guy and they arrived at his location at the same time. The target was some huge kingpin of crime with a massive following of thugs. There had to be hundreds of them guarding his hideout because they were met with a slew of blaster fire and grenades. She was ready to take on the masses herself when he offered to team up and split the reward. She was hesitant at first, but agreed after assessing the situation. In a matter of minutes, they took down the enemy and captured the target. He was impressed with her fighting skills and asked her to join him on future missions - to be his full time partner.

     Months passed and they worked together so well, they both wondered why they hadn't met each other sooner. Their work relationship turned into a friendship and not long after they started flirting on the daily. It started out as a joke for (y/n), but she soon realized that he was being serious all that time. She remembered taking a step back, evaluating their relationship and decided to talk to him about it. It was then that he asked her to marry him.

     Now, three months into their marriage, she looked down at the pregnancy testers, the both of them reading positive. She laughed to herself, smile spreading from ear to ear. She washed them off and wrapped one up with a note card to send in the mail to her parents. She sat back on the couch, fiddling with the tester between her fingers, thinking of all the ways to tell her husband. Finally, she thought of the perfect idea. Now, she wasn't a Mandalorian before she married him and didn't really like to wear the armor and he respected that, but she had a set for going to the convent. She threw on her set and ran to the secret hideaway and into the armorer's.

     "Can I help you today, (y/n)?"

     "Yes, well, I'm pregnant and-" She was cut off by a gasp.

     "What wonderful news!"

     "Yes, im excited. So I want to tell my husband and I thought it would be really cute to make a small helmet and announce it by giving it to him. Then when the baby grows up he can melt it down and add it to his own armor."

     "I would be honored to fabricate one for you. I have a small amount of scrap that will work perfectly."

     "Could you use my pauldron?"

     "Of course. It will be done tomorrow."

     "I'll be here."

     Morning came and (Y/n) rushed to the armorer to pick up the mini me helmet she was having made. She couldn't see her face, but (Y/n) could tell she was greeted with a smile. On the table in front of her was a tiny helmet about six inches tall, polished to imitate the silver beskar of the father's.

     "Well?" The armorer asked.

     "It's perfect." (Y/n) said handing her the payment.

     "It's a gift." She said, pushing her hand away. She picked up the helmet and held it out to her. "To a new generation."

     (Y/n) smiled and took the helmet, placing it in her bag to bring home. She waved goodbye and practically ran home. She got home to find Dyn fast asleep in bed. A rare day off when Carga said he was all out of bounties. (Y/n) had been planning on leaving the helmet for him to find when he got home, but upon seeing him in bed, she changed her plan. She began shedding her armor, letting it fall to the ground in flanks, slightly waking him. He was fully roused when he felt her jump into the bed next to him, shaking the whole mattress.

     "What are you doing?" He asked groggily.

     "Sit up! Sit up! I have something for you." She said tugging on his arm.

     "What?" He asked, sitting up. She grabbed her bag and handed it to him. He reached into the bag taking out what was inside, examining it as he did so. "What is this?"

     "I'm pregnant." She said smiling, biting her lip in anticipation. He stared at her, his eyes adoring. He wasn't exactly smiling, but (Y/n) could tell he was melting inside.

     "Y-you are?" He choked out. She nodded. He looked back at the tiny helmet, running his thumb across the visor. Finally a smile spread across his face as his eyes again met hers. He leaned forward, pulling her into a hug, giving her a mess of kisses on her cheek. "I love you." He whispered, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She could feel wetness from his tears.

     "I love you too."

[certifiedskywalker]

No Grave - Dyn Jarren (The Mandalorian)

Anonymous said:

Hello, Hope you’re having a good day! Just was that you’re looking for requests for the Mandalorian? If that’s not the case then feel free to disregard this ask! I was wondering if it would be possible to request a fic in which Mando is injured and he needs to call upon the help of his old friend, the reader, who he doesn’t want to bother but can’t fix himself so they just sorta patch him up, coo over Baby Yoda and are just really happy to see him? Just a tropey af & fluffy af fic? Thank you sm

AN: First, you’re so polite?! I love you! Second, I love your request but this leans into more romance than you described because I’ve been listening to Hozier. I hope that’s okay! Also, I call him Dyn Jarren, as Pedro Pascal leaked!

The fall from the Jawa’s trading post broke him in more ways than one. 

Dyn Jarren had been in pain before. Training in the tribe had acquainted him with every weakness of the human body, his body. Before that, on Mandalore, on his home in the Outer Rim, he had been shown the human capacity for cruelty and the faces of his people twisted up in agony. The entirety of his life, every curve of every path, had been marked by some sort of pain. It was the one constant; no matter what planet, bounty, or standard year, hurt, in some capacity, lingered around each corner. 

Yet, Dyn Jarren had never felt pain like this. It felt like his entire body was set aflame, burning from the inside out. The slash in his arm was much deeper, much longer than he had thought and his head was still ringing from the fall. He laid in the dirt with his eyes closed, carefully moving his fingers and toes to make sure he wasn’t paralyzed. Thank the Maker he wasn’t, but each micromovement brought with it a new wave of strained misery.

He grit his teeth and forced himself to sit up. The moment Dyn curled his abdomen and used his arms to support himself, his chest screamed in pain. Broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. What a curse it is to be so attuned to his body’s every ache. He reached up and pulled his left shoulder back into its socket. The bones made a horrible scraping sound that was only drowned out by his grunts of pain.

“Chit!” 

The curse fell from his lips when he sat back. After a few labored breaths, he laid down in the spot where he had landed hours before. He would have stayed there too, spread out on the dark earth, if it wasn’t for a small ‘coo’ that reached his ears. In a flash, a spasm so quick that his wounds shouted in angry protest, the Mandalorian looked to the side and met the shining, expectant eyes of the Child. 

“Ugh,” Dyn moved to stand and he felt his legs shake beneath him. The Child cocked it’s small, green head to the side with its large ears turned down. “What?”

The Child only gurgled and the Mandalorian sighed heavily. The breath stung his lungs and he bit back a groan. Each step he took a new sharp stab raced through his body. Dyn looked out along the horizon, saw the setting sun, and nearly fell to his knees.  

They needed to find shelter. Maybe, if he could make it, they could stay at Kuiil’s moisture farm. Although, he had put enough on the older man, taken too much of his time. Staying at his hut would put him, his freedom, and the Child at risk. Dyn looked behind him and watched the nursery pod following after him. The Child’s eyes were wide, almost all-seeing. A twinge of guilt racked the Mandalorian’s chest.

He had taken the job and here he was, bleeding, stumbling to some intangible end. Without a ship, he was stranded, with a child no less, on a desert planet, dying slowly. At the thought of death, he fell. The impact knocked the wind out of him and his armor did nothing to dull the sting. He rolled onto his back and let out a groan.

The pink-orange sky was now fading into a wonderful purple color; and for a moment, the pain ebbed away. For a moment, Dyn forgot where he was and why he was there. For that perfect moment, he was back with the tribe. He was outside, watching the orange flames of a bonfire raging up towards the night sky. He saw the faces of the people who had taken him in, raised him, and trained him.

He saw Y/N.

He saw the eyes, the face he knew better than his own. He saw the familiar grin and felt the heat that Y/N never ceased to stir up within him. The memories danced in the darkness of his mind, reminding him of a time when he smiled. When had he last smiled? When he was a Foundling? Maybe? When was the last time he saw Y/N?

Ever since Y/N, ever since he left, Dyn had thrown himself into the job. Bounty hunting became all he did and all he told himself he wanted. Yet, it was still Y/N he thought of when faced with the sunset. Especially one as beautiful as the one that danced above him now.

Dyn felt wetness slip from his eyes when he moved to sit up, but he wasn’t sure for which ache the tears were shed. A surge of pain ripped up his side as he leaned back against the rock face. The Child watched him, ever curious eyes glinting under the soft light of dusk. He let his head lull against the stone as he studied the green creature. So much strangeness and death surrounded the little being; including himself. 

In spite of that, he was compelled to keep it alive. He shifted once more, grunting through the ache of his body, and aimed his hand at a nearby bush. With the simple flick of his finger, flames roared out of the canister at his wrist. The brittlebush went up in flames and, he hoped, it would burn long enough to keep the Child warm. 

It cooed at the sight of the fire, clapping it’s little hands together in joy before looking back at Dyn. For a second, the creature looked...sorry. The Mandalorian leaned back against the rocks and sighed. He lifted his hand once more, but this time, uttered a simple command. 

“Show me Y/N.”

The image he didn’t let himself look at opened. A hologram of Y/N’s form, a digital portrait of the one person Dyn could not let himself have. At least not in this life. Life on the road, a life of killing, a life of pain...that was no life. No, not this life; part of him would be happy to leave it behind. 

Dyn heard a small set of footfalls as he studied the picture, but he was too lost in memories to care. No longer did he care how long he had left to live. All he knew was that he wanted to see Y/N one last time. Slowly, like falling asleep, the Mandalorian closed his eyes. The burning pain that once gripped his body gave way to cold darkness as the Child shuffled closer to the glowing image with all the wonder of a young soul. 

Dyn woke up scared for the second time in his life. Warmth was everywhere, kissing every inch of his body. The pain was gone, replaced by the sun. His skin felt tight under the rays of light and he could feel the heat gathering on his cheeks. The last time had had the sun on his face…

On instinct, he reached up towards his face. When his palm met the flesh of his face, he yanked his hand away. It was as if the softness stung him. His face was a reminder of everything he had swallowed, pushed down, and ignored for years. Now, it was exposed and every feeling was bubbling up to the surface.

“You’re up.”

Dyn swung his head to his right and swore that he was dreaming. He must be because Y/N was there, looking at him with those eyes. It must all be some fevered dream. Whatever infection his wounds had fostered were now taunting him. It had to be that.

“I don’t want to know what happened,” Y/N said, hands raised as if to stop Dyn from speaking. “And I really don’t want to know why you have a baby with you either.”

“How did you get here?” Dyn was almost surprised by the sound of his own voice, unaltered by the modulator in the helmet. Yet, that was the least shocking thing to him in the moment. He was still caught on Y/N.

“You sent me a beacon,” Y/N said simply. “Wasn’t hard to find you then. All I did was look for smoke plumes.” Y/N gestured to the burning bush, now blackened by the heat and acting as a new playground for the Child.

“I didn’t send for you,” Dyn said, dark eyes glued to the Child. Y/N scoffed and Dyn looked over at his...friend? Could they even call each other that?

“I’m here anyway,” Y/N snapped, and Dyn tore his eyes from the Child to look up. “What? Do you…” Y/N now looked at the Child and then back to Dyn. “You think that little thing called me? On your comm? Does it even know how to use a transmitter?”

Dyn’s face flushed as his last-night thoughts returned to him. “I thought I was going to…”

“What?” Y/N shuffled closer. Sand was kicked up by boots and Dyn remembered all to vividly what had happened. He had opened Y/N’s file, the portrait, and, with it, her information. Dyn glanced over at the Child once more who, almost smiling, looked from the Mandalorian to Y/N, then back again.

“It doesn’t matter,” Dyn grumbled and started to get back to his feet. “I have to-”

“You have to stay still,” Y/N interrupted, hands extended and gently pushing down on Dyn’s shoulders. The touch sent Dyn back to a room, on a planet, to safety and warmth. He could almost feel the softness of a bed below him the moment Y/N met his gaze. Y/N must have felt it too, because the touch was pulled away before Dyn had a chance to savor it. Instead, he was left with a question gnawing at his mind.

“Why did you come?” 

Y/N sat back on the dirt, staring at Dyn with curious eyes. If it weren’t for the fact that the Child stumbled up and pulled on Y/N’s sleeve, Dyn was sure he would have gotten an answer right then.

With the Child, Y/N got distracted. Dyn watched the scene that unfolded before him with unabashed awe. Y/N, carefully, took the Child up in arms and the little creature snuggled close. For a second, Dyn forgot that they had to be on the run; that the Child was part of a hefty bounty. Dyn, in that moment, saw another sunset and Y/N’s smile.

“It’s fifty years old.”

“What?”

Dyn raised his brows, pointed them towards the Child still swaddled in Y/N’s embrace. “That is fifty years old.”

“I don’t…”

“Some species age differently,” Dyn repeated what the guild droid had said and gauged Y/N’s reaction. The Child, however, seemed wholly unaffected by the knowledge.

“But it’s...it’s a child, a baby.” Y/N rambled, now holding the Child out in the air. It squealed softly and kicked its feet in the air. “Fifty?”

“Fifty,” Dyn echoed. Y/N’s head shook and similarly shaking hands lowered the Child to the ground. Y/N’s eyes met Dyn’s and, for the first time in a long time, he saw worry in them.

In the months they had spent together before...before everything, Y/N hardly worried. Dyn had made bounty hunting look like an art and Y/N did not fret over what he did. There was to point, Y/N couldn’t stop him. Dyn was going to do what he wanted anyway.

Y/N never asked about what wrongs he did, whose name would be presented in a bounty puck when he brought back to the house. That was what Dyn liked about Y/N. Never once did the world of bounty hunting collide with the realm of what he once knew as home. Y/N was his perfect escape; a haven he would crawl back to every time.

That was why he had to leave. In his life, all Dyn knew was pain. He couldn't risk dragging Y/N into that. Not then and definitely not now. Not even when Y/N was looking at him like that, with those eyes that haunted every sunset he saw. Or would ever see.

“Why did you come?” 

Y/N held his gaze before leaning close to him. Dyn’s breath caught at the closeness but was soon released as Y/N peeled a bacta patch off his arm. “Your arm is healed. I did what I could about your ribs when you were passed out.”

Dyn stayed silent, watching Y/N sort the medical supplies laid out. The way Y/N’s hands traced packages and sorted them nearly hypnotized Dyn. He was tempted to drop the question, let them just be. Let them just be together for whatever time they had. It was too tempting.

“Why did you come here, Y/N,” Dyn asked once more. He reached out, his now bare hand grasping Y/N’s wrist. There was no hesitation as Y/N pulled away from the touch.

“Why do you think I came here?” Y/N snapped coldly. Any friendly warmth that once laced Y/N’s voice was gone. The Child, now sat at Dyn’s feet cringed, as if the tone of the words hurt some part of its being. 

“I don’t,” Dyn replied, “I thought it was clear that-”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Dyn,” Y/N said softly, all the fire that laced the voice gone. Y/N looked up from the medical supplies and met his gaze. “I don’t ask many questions about...why you do what you do. Please, don’t ask me.”

Dyn wanted to protest. He wanted to tell Y/N that he fell into bounty hunting; but that was a lie. He had chosen bounty hunting over everything so he could control the pain that had been so intertwined with his life. He had chosen it over everything. Even his relationship with Y/N.

So, he decided, he could grant Y/N that one wish. “Alright.”

“Vor'e,” Y/N murmured and the use of Mando’a caught Dyn visibly off guard. “What? Have you become unfamiliar with your native tongue?”

“I haven’t heard it in a long time. Some phrases are lost to me now.”

“I said ‘thanks’,” Y/N explained teasingly. Dyn nodded, letting the word find purchase in his throat before speaking up again. 

“Vor'e, for coming here.” Dyn watched as that smile he loved spread along Y/N’s features. It lasted only for a second before fading like sunlight.

“I fear I’ve done all I can.” Dyn nodded and moved to sit up fully. His ribs no longer screamed with searing pain and his arm held no ache. 

“And that’s more than enough.” Y/N frowned and started to pack what supplies were still strewn about the dirt. Dyn watched but forced himself to peel his eyes away. He had to focus on what tasks lingered. Namely, getting the Child off this planet. 

“I could fly you out of here,” Y/N suggested, so quickly it was as if Dyn’s thoughts had been spoken aloud. “Get you and…” Y/N pointed to the Child, “this little one out of here.”

“No, no,” Dyn started to get to his feet. “You’d be in danger and-”

“You don’t think I can handle myself?” Y/N asked, hands on the hips, and standing before Dyn with all the confidence he wished he could bottle to keep at his side for whenever he needed it. Mostly, he wished to keep Y/N.

“I don’t know if I can handle...this,” Dyn gestured to the Child that now stood between them. It’s wide eyes peered up at them with a small, smug smile on it’s green lips. 

“Really you-” Dyn met Y/N’s eyes and the words fell into silence. “Really?”

Dyn nodded and leaned down to scoop the Child in his arms. It cooed in response and Dyn swallowed hard. Y/N reached and rubbed a careful hand against the creature’s cheek. Dyn watched Y/N, dark eyes adoring and soft. 

“Well, if this little one did send for me, you owe it quite a lot.” Y/N was still looking at the Child and Dyn was wholly enraptured with Y/N. 

“My life,” Dyn said softly, his breath stirring the hair on Y/N’s head. The couple met eyes and Dyn felt his heart go weak. What a curse it is to be so attuned to his body’s every ache. “And I owe you.” 

Y/N frowned and pulled away from Dyn. Leaning down, Y/N grabbed the Mandalorian helmet from the dirt and handed it to Dyn. He took it with his free hand, his eyes tracing the lines of Y/N’s face. He was preparing for a goodbye, perhaps the last goodbye.

“You can repay me by not leaving a grave for me to find.” Dyn let out a forced chuckle and shook his head. 

“You know that no grave could keep me from you.” The words came back to him like an instinct. They flowed from his lips with the same ease he set a trap or aimed his rifle for a killing shot. Those words were part of a ritual, a life that Dyn had almost had; a life with Y/N.

Y/N did not speak. Dyn felt his stomach drop and curl at the quiet. Instead of speaking, Y/N stepped towards him, pressed a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. Dyn wanted to drop everything and reach for Y/N; but the Child gurgled as Y/N pulled away. The skin of Dyn’s lips still tingled from the kiss.  

Dyn watched Y/N walk away, medical supplies trailing after. The ship in the distance was small, a ship that Dyn once knew well. A ship that he hoped to know well again. Maybe after all of this, after the bounty...after the Child… Dyn looked up from the green creature in his arms and back at Y/N’s form. He could see the features of the person he loved as Y/N faced him once more.  

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum,” Y/N shouted. The wind carried the phrase to Dyn’s ears and he closed his eyes as the sound of his native Mando’a speech warmed his soul. He did not have to ask what the words meant. He knew what Y/N said in his heart; a phrase he could never lose to time or trial. 

Dyn watched Y/N take off before putting his helmet back on. The sun’s heat no longer graced his features, instead glinted off of the beskar steel. Dyn looked back to the Child in his arms. Its eyes were wide and Dyn sighed. 

“Let’s get you out of here.”

[helaintoloki]

A Friend

part four

pairing: the Mandalorian (Dyn Jarren) x reader

notes: ty again for the love you guys give this fic! <3

part one | part two | part three

The smooth surface of his helmet reflects the stars in the sky, casting him in an almost ethereal like glow that makes him look oh so heavenly. She had found the Mandalorian out in the small patch of grass that had somehow managed to stay alive despite the harsh conditions that the planet braved. And she joined him, silently lying beside him and fixing her gaze upon the night before her.

The rest of his beskar armor was hidden away inside, polished and cleaned and ready for when it was time to move on. And selfishly enough, she hoped he’d never have to wear it again.

The night air was cool, the wind calm, and the skies quiet. It was peaceful, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever done something like this. She was peaceful, eyes shut and chest rising and falling with each breath she took. Beautiful and kind and warm. But he couldn’t have her, he refused to indulge in his feelings. A woman like her deserved a man better than him, a man with clean hands and a clean slate. A man who could settle down and provide, who could hold her and kiss her and give her everything she ever wanted. This was something the Mando could not do. And so he settled with watching her from afar, enjoying her presence and her company.

“Can I know your name?” She murmurs, one eye peeking open at him.

“Do you really want to know?” He asks sincerely. He knew all about her code, about her law of detachment. Perhaps being on first name basis with him wasn’t such a good idea.

“Yes,” is y/n’s quiet reply.

“Dyn,” the man utters, not once casting his gaze towards her as he speaks, “Dyn Jarren.”

“Dyn,” y/n replies, testing it out for herself. His own name is foreign to him on her tongue yet so intimate all at once. He’d bestowed upon her a privilege not given to just anybody, and if he didn’t know before he knew now that she wasn’t just anybody. She was somebody. His person.

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” y/n states. “I saw the bags.”

“Yes.”

“For good this time?”

“I can’t stay here for too long. They’ll find the kid... they’ll find you.”

“Am I in danger?”

“Only when you’re with me.”

It’s quiet then. Pondering, calculating, thoughtful. She pictures a life with the man behind the mask; a fuzzy image of him in her mind as it scrambles to create a face for her Dyn. A life of serenity, of peace, of home cooked meals and warm beds and more children scurrying around the house. They’re happy together, and she loves him so much it hurts. It will always hurt.

And he sees her in his own mind; belly round and ring on her left finger glinting underneath the suns of a peaceful planet. He sees her holding him, sees her caring hands bandaging his wounds, hears her soft voice singing to the children that sit around her and their newest sibling in the rocking chair. He sees fire and destruction, old ghosts with a vengeance. She dances with the flames, and with a cloud of smoke she’s gone forever.

“This is the way,” he utters, fists balled tightly at his sides. The helmet feels heavier now and it’s hard to breathe. Dyn rises quickly from his spot on the ground, startling the poor woman beside him. Before she can even ask he’s marching quickly inside, running away from his emotions.

~~~

Her generator had died on her a few weeks ago, and the last candle in the house was currently being utilized by the youngling peacefully sleeping in his room. Y/N refused to have him in the dark, for she knew first hand just how terrifying it could truly be. Thus there she went, bumbling into the pitch black kitchen and grasping for anything that felt like the bottle of blue milk she’d made earlier.

“You’re going to hurt yourself,” Dyn says, startling her so bad she trips over one of the baby’s toys. He’s fast acting, hands gripping at her waist and steadying y/n on her feet. He can’t see her face in the dark, but he can hear her heavy breathing, can feel the way her fingers dig into his biceps as she clutches onto him for dear life.

She’s so dizzy having him so close, hardly able to breathe at the feeling of his bare fingers gripping at her hips. His arms are strong, warm underneath her fingertips. Oh, and what she wouldn’t give to melt into his embrace and have him hold her in the dark of her kitchen. Safe, close, real, human. To love the man underneath the armor, to have and to hold and to cherish for eternity.

Carefully, gingerly her trembling hands reach up to feel for his face, and her palms are met with the warm, soft skin of his cheeks. She can’t see him, but she can feel him. So close and personal. Dyn holds his breath, stiff and careful and thankful to the maker for her lack of candles. No one had touched him so intimately in years, been so close, so gente, so loving. His eyes slip shut and his own hands gently clasp around her wrists, keeping her near and secure.

“I love you,” she breathes, the softest of whispers to ever grace his ears. And Dyn smiles for the first time in ages, corners of his eyes crinkling.

And y/n means it, truly. Even though the amount of time they’ve spent together barely equates to a measly week. She’s never felt such strong emotions for anyone before, and oh how tragic it is to be in love with a Mandalorian.

Dyn is selfish for once in his life, and with gentle hands he cups her face and guides her lips towards his own until they’re met in a kiss. It isn’t passion filled or lustful, but instead soft and full of longing, full of want and need and love.

She loves him, and he’s starting to realize that he loves her too.

tags: @go-commander-kim @personofsinterest @otherthingsinhead @sweetgoodangel @world-dominating-kitty @yagirlmexic @bluegreyme @loveharrington @maryan028 @eldritch-eggplant

[wee-chlo]

Had this image of Yoda's people having exceptional, almost flawless longterm memories to compensate for how long it takes for them to mature so even though the Child becomes an adult decades after Mando passes away, they still remember him as their father.

They remember his kindness and courage, his honor. They remember how he never backed down from a fight but never sought one out either. How he protected people who needed protecting and chose to feel and care.

The Child says they are a Mandalorian, but when they say that, they're not picturing Mandalore. They're picturing their father.

They're emulating Dyn Jarren.

[loridrabbles]

Promise | Dyn Jarren (The Mandalorian) x blind!reader

@fruits-ofeden Yooo I wrote it

     (Y/n) was on her knees in the market district after a rather rude civilian bumped into her, causing her to drop everything she was carrying. She had almost all the ingredients she needed to make dinner for herself and her sick, departing mother. As she felt around she listed off her belongings under her breath as she gathered them back into her arms,

     "Rice, corn, beans, pan bread, my purse..." She felt around the ground around her, searching for the familiar feeling of rough leather stitched together with twine under her fingertips. "My purse...." She felt nothing around her but coarse dirt and grass. "My purse! That man took my purse!" She shouted, standing up, facing the direction she remembered him running off in.

     She listened around her. Only one or two, probably older women by the sound of it, gasped, but no one seemed to care at all. She sighed, and turned away from the market, reorienting herself in the direction of home. It wasn't hard for her to find. A somewhat long walk through the woods, but simple. Walk straight until she felt a huge boulder in front of her. From what she was told, it was nearly double her height. A close friend of hers used a chisel fashioned from an old, dull knife crudely carve out the word "home." It wasn't the braille (y/n) was used to, but she knew she was in the right spot. 

     When she made it to the boulder, she would turn left, and continue straight until she heard the rush of a river. once at the river she would follow it all the way down until it was just a trickle in a pond where her house was. 

     As she walked away from the boulder, she picked up the sound of a fast pace crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs behind her. It didn't sound like an animal from this part of the planet. The steps were too heavy. The footsteps were accompanied with a heavy breathing that was...modulated?

     "Ma'am!" She heard a man's voice behind her, still a distance away.

     "Huh!?" She asked, almost in a panic. The voice got closer and sounded softer.

     "Ma'am. Your purse. The man dropped it as he ran away. Well, he dropped it after I stopped him and threatened him, then he ran away." He held the coin purse out to her. "Ma'am?" He noticed she wasn't quite facing him and he reached his other hand to her shoulder and she took a step turning to face him. As he examined her, he may admit, beautiful features, he noticed her eyes had a cast of milky white. 

     "Oh. You're blind?" He asked, taking her hand in his, placing the purse in it.

     "Yes. I went blind when I was almost 6." She said, tucking the purse away. "Thank you, so much for this. I'm so grateful for you. My mother is sick and this is all we have and- please, won't you join us for dinner."

     "I can't. I-"

     "Please. I insist. This is the only way I can repay you." She pleaded. He sighed quietly to himself.

     "Ok. I'll come." He said. "Where is your home?"

     "Umm. That big boulder. Where is it?" She asked. 

     "Right in front of you. Well, maybe 20 feet away." He said.

     "Oh. Well my house is this way." She said, turning around. She began to walk away and he wanted to ask her so many questions and she wanted the same thing. She could hear when he walked that he was not wearing normal clothing and based on his voice wasn't entirely sure he was human. He could be a Duros or a Kel Dor using a respirator, but she wasn't sure. He walked behind her, watching her and noticed a large root sticking up from the ground.

     "Watch out!" He said grabbing her arm.

     "Is that the root? I used to trip over it all the time, but I know to stick to the left side of the trail now. I guess I forgot having a guest walking with me."

     The continued to walk in silence until his curiosity finally got the best of him and he decided to ask some questions.

     "So. If you want to go somewhere besides the market or somewhere that you're used to, how do you do it?"

     "I have a wolf."

     "A loth wolf?"

     "Not that big, He reaches my waist. He was given to me by an organization that domesticates them and trains them to help people with disabilities. I do have a ship and a droid that helps me get where I need to go. My wolf, Naalnish, knows how to take me to many of the places I go on other planets."

     "Wow. That's really interesting. I didn't know that was a thing."

     "Yeah. I'm glad I have him. When my mother passes, I'd be so lonely if I didn't."

     "What about your father?" He asked.

     "He passed away about 5 years ago. He was older."

     "I'm sorry. I know what it's like to lose parents."

     "You do?" She asked.

     "My parents were both killed in an attack on my town when I was a child, Around 8. I was taken in my a family of Mandalorians as one of their own. They raised me. I'm grateful to them."

     "So you're a Mandalorian. I remember seeing pictures when I was little." She giggled. "I was trying to figure out what you were. I can hear your armor."

     "I guess I didn't do a good job at sneaking up on you did I?" He laughed. "Good to know. I'll be quieter next time." He gently punched her shoulder.

     "Hey! You nearly scared the shit out of me last time." She laughed along with him. 

     "Sorry sorry! I'll make it up to you. I promise."

     They didn't stop talking the entire 20 minutes it took to get to her home. Finally, they reached the pond with a small dock that extended out into the water and a cottage next to it with a stone pathway. Naalnish was out in the yard, sleeping next to an old stump where someone would chop wood, the axe still sticking out of the block. It looked weathered like it hadn't been used in years. The wolf woke up, wagging his tail as he stood and trotted over to (Y/n)'s side where he nuzzled her hand, letting her know where he was.

     "This is Naalnish." She said affectionately petting his head. "Naalnish this is...I don't think we ever exchanged names. I'm (Y/n)." She held her hand out for him to shake.

     "I'm...Dyn." He said, taking her soft hand in his gloved one. The leather was rough, but still softer than her purse and more workable. 

     "Let's head inside and I'll start dinner. You must he tired if you've been bounty hunting all day." She giggled. He chuckled at her naivety and followed her inside. 

     "Hi mom." (Y/n) said, walking up to her mother who was old and frail with long, silver, wiry hair, wrinkled skin, and long bony fingers. 

     "Welcome home dear." She said, wrapping her hands around (Y/n)'s healthy ones. "Who is this?"

     "Someone stole my purse from me in the market district. He got it back for me." She said.

     "Oh." She sighed. "What a wonderful man you are. Please stay for dinner."

     "I already invited him, ma." She laughed. 

     "Good! That means I raised you right." 

     Her mother's comet made the whole room laugh. (Y/n) got to work preparing dinner which was done rather quickly with Dyn's help. She turned down the heat on the stove and added the last few spices.

     "Why don't we head outside for a while while it simmers?" She said, walking towards the side door. He followed her out onto the dock. The boards creaked under their feet as they walked.

     "Your home is beautiful." He said, as they stood on the end of the dock.

     "Thank you. I remember how much I loved to stare at my reflection in the water and sit on the end here. I'd dip my feet in and sit for hours reading a book or just thinking. I can still do that, but I only have one book that's in braille."

     "I have to leave this planet soon. I would like to come back and visit. Maybe we could sit here and I could read something to you." He said. (Y/n) smiled wide and her cheeks turned pink.

     "I would really love that." She said. She felt a gloved hand grasp hers. She could feel warmth, even though the leather. They just stood there, listening to the wind through the trees and the birds chirping, enjoying eachother's company. (Y/n) broke the comfortable silence.

     "So you wear a helmet all the time. When did you last take it off?"

     "I was young. The same time my parents were killed. Well, that was the last time anyone's seen me without it. I can't take it off."

     "Hm."

     "You went blind when you were 6. Do you remember your face?"

     "I still imagine myself with the face of a child." She said. "It's the only face of mine I know."

     "Well, you're beautiful." He said making her blush. "The most perfect I've seen."

     "I wish I could see your face." She said as he took her other hand as well.

     "I can paint you a picture." He said. "I have brown hair that's a little wavy and not very long, brown eyes, and..." He paused, bringing her hands up to rest on his helmet. "I can't take it off, but you can."

     She smiled a little, feeling the smooth, cold metal beneath her finger tips contrasted by the rough warm leather of his gloves cradling her hands. Gently, carefully, she removed the helmet and he took it from her, placing it on the ground next to him. He took her hands again and brought them to his face. She smiled.

     "Stubble." She giggled, making him smile. "And dimples." 

     As she caressed his face, she felt a hand on her own cheek. Soft, but calloused, warmer without the gloves. He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers moving a hand down to her chin. With it, he tilted her head back pressing a kiss against her lips. His stubble tickled her face as she ran her fingers through his hair, remembering the texture and the length. She bit her lip trying to hold back a smile.

     "Will you really come back?" She asked.

     "I promise."