#for the record I love din djarin and am happy he got what he wanted: to live with his kid in peace. let the lesbians run Mandalore. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miceenscene · 4 years ago

Text

Star-Crossed

din djarin/female oc | soulmate AU | pre-canon

wc: 6.2k / 28.5k

summary: The Way was not supposed to be a solitary one. People, house, clan. And when all else failed, your Match. “Fits like a Mandalorian Match” was the old saying. Though it wasn’t so long ago that it stopped making sense. But what's a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

warnings/tags: canon-typical violence, fluff, hurt/comfort, Din Is In A Cult, angst with an eventual happy ending i swear

Previous Chapter | Masterpost | ao3

Chapter Eight: The End

Nia and Anella ran for each other, crashing into one another in a fierce embrace.

Anella held onto Nia as if in fear that she might slip through her fingers again. Both of them talking through tears over the other.

“I’ve missed you so much! I was starting to think I wouldn’t find you–”

“Niæna! I thought you were–Niæna, cyare’se–”

Loved one.

They stopped talking at the exact same moment to listen, making them both laugh and wipe away tears.

Anella cupped Nia’s cheeks and pressed her forehead to hers, frowning in a joy so bright it had to hurt.

“Me'vaar ti gar, ba’buir?” Nia whispered, sniffling.

How are you, grandmother?

Anella nodded slowly, swallowing hard before speaking in a rough voice. “Ner bu’ad. Yaimpar. Ori’sol gedetyar.”

My granddaughter. Returned. There is much to be grateful for.

Watching their reunion made something deep inside Din ache. He had never felt like more of an outsider.

He stepped back once, twice, hoping to let them share this moment as long as they wanted to without an audience. But–

“Ke’mot!”

Halt!

Even if it hadn’t been the exact order used by his training instructors, the tone Anella used would have stopped a runaway Star Destroyer. Din looked back, shoulders automatically hunching to brace for whatever was coming next. Anella still had an arm around Nia, but was giving him a very familiar looking study.

“Is he with you?” she asked Nia.

She smiled. “Yes, he’s with me. He’s the reason I’m here.”

Anella looked slightly mollified. “Do you have a name to go with all that beskar?”

“He goes by–”

“Din. Din Djarin.”

For half a second, he had the same feeling as when he gave Nia his true name on their first meeting. WHY? But the warm and open look in Nia’s eyes immediately quenched any doubt he might have had.

Anella looked between the two of them then snorted. “Come, let us leave this drafty high rise and you can explain. You too, Din-Din Djarin.”

Huh. It’d been a long time since he’d had relatives.

Anella took them to her small apartment many thousand levels down from the twin-spired penthouse. It was cramped, and there was some sort of betting ring happening on the street corner, but they could still see the sky, so better than most on Coruscant.

Inside was about as luxurious as being aboard The Razor Crest, which made Din feel a lot more at ease, truth be told. Anella managed to find an extra crate for Din to sit on as she only owned two chairs, but it didn’t feel too tight at the table.

Anella was a small woman, slight and barely reaching his chest. But she still had a commanding Presence that made him continually straighten his posture every time she re-entered the room. The long burn scar through her whitened eye probably helped, but even then…

Nia hadn’t stopped smiling since they arrived. “Ba’buir, sit. We’re fine.”

Anella grunted disbelieving and tossed two ration packs their way. “If I had known you were coming, I would have gotten the good ones. But I at least have this.” She placed down three metal cups on the table and brandished a bottle half-filled with golden liquor.

She filled the cups with the very strong smelling booze and then lifted hers. “K'oyacyi.”

Cheers. Literally, ‘stay alive’.

“K’oyacyi,” Nia repeated before sipping. Din lifted his glass, but did not drink.

Anella gave him an odd look. “I can assure you, this place is safer than it looks.”

“Din doesn’t remove his helmet in front of others,” Nia explained before he had to.

A knowing look crossed through Anella’s eyes that turned to a pointed glare towards Nia, who avoided it by paying very careful attention to opening her ration bar.

“I see. Well, it will keep just fine,” Anella said before taking Nia’s hand in hers and giving her a soft, concerned look. “Now tell me, my Comet-fire, what has happened since I saw you last?”

Nia let out a long breath. “A lot, but… I’m not even sure when that was.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had a control chip put in my head,” Nia said, making Anella’s face harden and her grip clench. “Din made sure it was removed, but it took… everything. I wasn’t even sure of my own name when I woke up.”

Anella’s face was disturbed, but she nodded and sat back. “Tell me what you know then. And I will clarify.”

“I remember Mandalore. My parents and you, our home. I remember you raising me, training me–training us. We found the school. Ba’buir, it was attacked–”

Anella held up a hand “I know this. Continue.”

Nia kept going. “I remembered the Vod’oya after we found the headquarters. Going through the mission log brought back a lot of good memories.” She smiled for a moment, but then it disappeared. “But there’s gaps. In the records themselves. We have a contact seeing if it can be recovered, but haven’t heard anything yet.”

So far none of this seemed to surprise Anella. “And then?”

Nia’s face grew very carefully blank. “I know I killed Phasia,” she said in a small voice. On instinct, Din reached out and took Nia’s other hand. He could feel Anella’s gaze rest on him for a moment. “I don’t… know why, but I remember doing it. Ro saw me shoot her, she told me.”

“You found Ro?” Anella asked, sounding actually surprised now.

“Yes, she was… angry. I would be too.”

“What brought you here then?”

Din spoke up, making them both look his way. “I had a bounty, some years ago, for Phasia. I delivered her to that building. Nia remembered being chipped there when we arrived.”

“I remember a man. Human. He wanted to know where the school was…” Nia’s face threatened to crumble. “And I told him. I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Because you were chipped,” Anella reminded her, her voice fierce with determination. “Do not take guilt that is not yours, Niæna.”

She didn’t look like she quite agreed with her, but she let out a breath. “We’ve been looking for eight months, and there’s still so much we don’t know. Please, anything will help.”

Anella nodded and considered for a moment before speaking. “I hope you have re-discovered it, but your gut instinct is… uncanny. As a child, it was unsettling.” A wry smile twisted her mouth for a moment. “But as you grew older, and especially with the path you and the others chose, it gave me some measure of peace. So when you came to me a year ago and told me that you felt one of the Vod’oya had betrayed the group, I trusted you. But I told you that you would need hard proof to convince the rest. And you had it. The collection of missions the Vod’oya had completed all under false pretenses, all proposed by Phasia. You showed it to me not long before… before it all ended.

She finished her drink and set the cup down. “The owner of that building is a man named Terreck Basslan. He is rich, which makes him powerful. Even with your proof, we weren’t sure how he’d gotten his hooks into Phasia–” She looked pointedly at Din. “But it was clear that she was the turncoat. Through her, Basslan was using the Vod’oya as his own personal army. The seven of you could take out his enemies, remove his competitors, or just cut down anyone in his way. I am sure he lined Phasia’s pockets with more credits than she knew what to do with for her assistance.

“When you told me, I thought it best to disband, but… you wanted to know why she had betrayed the sisterhood. I told you to be careful. She had kept up the ruse for years; she was probably deeper in than even we knew.” Her face grew even more somber. “And then I was woken up very late by Kolo, who told me that Phasia was dead. And you were missing.

“I went after you immediately. You made it to the spaceport before I could get to you. I followed you, tracked you to that building.” She shook her head, a grim light in her eyes. “At the time, I hoped you were dead. That would have been better than most of the fates that waited there.”

“I got lucky,” Nia said, squeezing her hand.

“Yes,” Anella replied, looking at Din. “By the time I returned to the school, the Empire had already come through. Basslan must have told them where we were; Mandalorians are not technically wanted, but far from welcome. They killed some, took most. Where and for what purpose, I do not know. I buried the dead and burned the stormtroopers in the woods. Set out to find my students.”

“You think Basslan knows where they are?” Din asked.

“I think Coruscant is a good place to hide when you still need contacts. I have a scanner nearby; it logs every ship that comes and goes from Basslan’s.” She smiled slightly. “My curiosity was sparked when the same pre-Imperial ship that landed at my school three weeks ago showed up here. Though the Mandalorian was more a surprise than your survival, Comet-fire. Where did you find him?”

Nia laughed slightly. “He found me. On Tatooine. When I was chipped, everything felt foggy. Except for this… compulsion. Kick the guard off the barge. I did, and then he showed up out of nowhere.”

“And what brought you to Tatooine, Din?”

“I took a quarry and had my own… instinct. Go to the Dune Sea, and follow the barge.”

Nia smiled at him. “Though the next thing I remember is waking up to a stormtrooper swinging a staff at me.”

“You wouldn’t stay on the ship,” he replied, making her laugh.

Anella was looking sharply between the two of them. “I see.”

“We’re Matched,” Nia added, resting a hand on his arm.

“Good. Glad you have figured that out yourselves.” She refilled the two empty glasses and sat back in her chair. “Are you bonded yet?”

Nia’s confused frown reflected the one on his face. “No…?”

“It will come in time. What clan are you from, Din?”

“I don’t have one. I was a foundling, raised in the fighting corps.”

“Outside of Keldabe, right?” Anella asked, though it seemed she already knew.

“Yes.”

“Are you going somewhere?” Nia asked, pulling the conversation off track. She nodded to the corner where a few bags were packed.

“I was, yes. I have received a tip on where my students may have been taken. Was going to investigate when you two arrived.”

“I want to come with you,” Nia said.

Anella held up a hand. “No. I do not know yet if it is true. If it is, I will leave word at the school. But you need your evidence back. Prove yourself to Ro and find the others together.”

Nia nodded, though it was clear she didn’t like the idea of leaving her grandmother again.

They stayed up talking, reminiscing till late in the night. Not stopping till Nia could barely keep her eyes open. Anella wouldn’t hear of them returning to the ship, making a few spare beds out of the blankets and furniture she was leaving behind.

Nia curled up on the couch, immediately dropping into sleep before she’d even managed to pull a blanket over herself. Din watched Anella drape a quilt over her and smooth her hair, something deep inside him aching again.

Anella caught him staring from the table, jerking his head back to look down at his still full cup. However, instead of retiring herself, she sat down across from him and refilled her glass.

There was a quiet minute as she sipped and studied him carefully. She and Nia really were related.

“Tell me, Din,” she said in a low voice. “What are your intentions towards my granddaughter?”

He didn’t know how, but he suddenly felt that every answer that came to mind was wrong.

“As long as Nia wants me by her side, that is where I’ll be,” he said finally. True in spirit, but not his full hopes.

She huffed in amusement. “Spoken like a true Mandalorian.”

Her choice of words gave him pause.

“Because it seems to me like you have already chosen her,” she continued.

Kriff, he’d hoped he was more subtle than this.

“Not formally…” he admitted. “But… I am… settled.” He looked to where he could see the top of Nia’s head. “I do not know if she agrees with me.”

“What of your tribe? Do they agree with you?”

Din looked back at her, frowning. “Nia is my Match, what is there to argue with?”

Anella chuckled into her teacup. “Since when has that stopped Mandalorians?”

Under his helmet, he frowned. The idea had not even crossed his mind…

“You know, Nia’s mother was of your tribe. The Faithful Ones up the mountain,” she added.

“Really?”

She nodded once, looking at him closely. “When she and my son chose each other… her tribe cast her out for choosing someone who was not faithful.” A black pit opened in his stomach. “It was difficult for her, and admittedly, I had my doubts at first about the wisdom of my son’s choice.” A wistful smile filled her eyes. “But before long, she made me as proud as if I had birthed her myself. It was through her foresight and her sacrifice that Nia and I survived and escaped when the Empire invaded our village.”

“Nia never told me.”

“Nia does not know. Her mother wanted to leave that part of her past behind her. And she did…” She drained her cup and stood. “I may be biased, but I think she was happier for it.” She patted his shoulder as she passed by. “Good night, Din Djarin.”

Din finished his cup and settled for the night, leaning against the couch with a long sigh. Nia, still asleep, turned and threw her arm across his chest. He slipped his glove off and held her hand, the usual something flickering beneath the surface as he drifted off.

The next morning, Anella saw them back to The Razor Crest, not before giving them a small case of ration bars and the quilt Nia had slept under. She probably would have foisted more, if Nia hadn’t gently yet firmly assured her they weren’t in danger of starving.

“One last thing,” Anella said, making Nia suck in a breath and Din bite back a chuckle. She reached into her bag and pulled out a wrapped, rather flat package, handing it to Nia. “You should have this. It is time.”

Nia unwrapped it and both their mouths dropped open. It was a beskar cuirass, battle-worn and painted grey and white.

Nia looked up at her. “I cannot accept this–”

“I cannot wear it anymore. It is right that you should have it, cyare’se.” Anella ran a hand over her beskar, thumb rubbing at one of the scuffs. “It will need to be fitted to you. And deserves new paint. Perhaps a new color if you think it fitting.”

The color of a Mandalorian’s armor was symbolic. Grey meant mourning a loved one, while white meant a new start.

His own red set was in honor of his parents. Perhaps it was time for a new color on his own as well.

“I will take good care of it,” Nia promised solemnly, her hand pressed over the iron heart in the center.

Anella nodded. “I know this.” She rested a hand on her shoulder and waved Din in to rest the other on his, looking between the two of them. “Look after one other well. Mandalorians need each other, now more than ever.”

They looked at each other, a warm smile passing between them. “We will,” Nia promised, not looking away for a moment.

Anella patted Din’s arm and kissed Nia’s forehead one last time before letting them board the ship.

“Ret'urcye mhi,” Anella called, waving from the landing pad.

Maybe we’ll meet again. A Mandalorian farewell.

Nia watched her from the cockpit, waving back as Anella grew smaller and eventually disappeared from view.

Din was setting coordinates for Nevarro when a message came through. Peli’s voice was crackly but clear.

“You two are in luck; I was able to recover most of the data. Come back to Tatooine when you can–and don’t forget the rest of my money.”

He immediately plotted coordinates for Tatooine. Unfortunately, Coruscant being Coruscant, it was actually almost two full hours later till they made the jump to hyperspace and he could leave the flight deck.

He found Nia down in the hull, putting away the armor cleaner that usually only he used.

“Are you alright?” he asked.

She nodded, tucking her now shining beskar into the armory. “Yes… Part of me wishes we didn’t have to be apart, but we’ll see each other again.” She smiled back at him. “She liked you, you know.”

He chuckled. “I liked her too.”

Her eyes shone, warm and open. “Din. You… you have saved my life in so many ways. Without you…”

The look in Anella’s eye came to mind – I hoped you were dead – making him pull her into his arms. Safe, she was safe now.

She leaned back enough to look at him. “It means so much to me that you like my clan. Maybe… the next time we see Anella, I could ask if she would let you join. You could claim clan Vard’on when people ask. If you wanted.”

“A clan of three,” he said, trying it on for size and finding it a perfect fit.

She smiled, so much brighter and more beautiful than the stars that he just had to kiss her.

Din slipped his helmet on the next morning and opened the bunk door. Nia was already up, doing the final meditation of her stretching routine, completely still and her back straight as a saber.

He admired her form, the slope of her waist and the absolute control over her body she commanded. By the Mythosaur, he was beyond merely lucky to have a Match like her.

“You’re staring, my absence,” she said, without turning around to see him.

He smiled and went to sit behind her, pulling his helmet off before tucking his face into the safety of the crook of her neck.

Sea air and wildflowers.

“Absence?” he asked, interrupting the end of her meditation in more ways than one.

She relaxed back against him. “When you’re helmeted… I can feel the space where you should be, rather than actually you. You’re my favorite absence.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the skin behind her ear.

A contented hum echoed from her chest as she intertwined their fingers and pulled him closer.

They sat there in the quiet perfect ordinariness for a while. That feeling of Something hurtling towards them returning. Though this time, it arrived.

Connection.

“What is this?” she murmured.

Pure and powerful.

It went beyond star bursts and comet fire.

It was… the birth of a galaxy. The miracle of Something from Nothing.

And at the same time, it was simply just her. And him.

Devotion flowed through his hands, tempered with loyalty and admiration. Strong and fierce. Familiar, but decidedly not his.

“Nia,” he whispered, head swirling with the rush.

“I thought the bond was just… a metaphor. A fairy tale…”

Surprise and awe joined the cocktail before simmering down into an amusement that sparkled.

This was her, Din realized after a moment. It was Nia. She was feeling all of this, and through where he touched her, he felt it too. Was she feeling him? How did she not drown in all these emotions?

Concern flooded the riptide.

“Are you alright?” she asked, a hand slipping up to cup the back of his neck. Every place she touched him, Awareness flowed, nearly overwhelming. “Din?”

He nodded, finding his footing slowly but surely. “Yes. I… I feel you.”

Concern ebbed, replaced with shimmering adoration.

“Din Djarin, you like me,” she teased, curling against him.

He had to laugh. That was too small a word for everything he could guess she felt from him.

“I do.” He wrapped his arms all the way around her, holding her tightly and basking in her. Without any effort at all, the words slipped out, soul-deep and earnest. “Will you marry me?”

Surprise detonated.

She breathed a giggle. “Grandmother warned me that Mandalorians move fast. I just assumed she was talking about sex.”

He chuckled. “I’m serious.”

“I know…” Thoughtful consideration welled up.

She had to feel his nerves, his longing for this.

Instead of answering, however, she turned to face him, eyes already closed without any reminder. Her hands reached out for his face, and he guided them to his cheeks. She pulled him close again, pressing their brows together.

“Yes.”

Star bursts and comet fire. Coming from both him and her.

A smile so bright it splintered into a laugh bubbled up from within him. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling too, eyes still closed.

He nearly asked her to open them. Breaking his Oath seemed almost worth it to see her eyes with his own in that moment.

But something deep recoiled at the thought. So instead he kissed her, soft and sweet.

“When?” she asked, lips still brushing his.

He kissed her again. And again. And again, moving slowly up her jaw, fingers brushing through her curls. “Now?” he asked, only half-joking.

She laughed. “Really?”

“Mhi solus tome–”

We are one together. The first line of the vows.

She gasped and pulled half back, but he reeled her back in, laughing and nowhere near done kissing her. Her surprise and amusement bubbled.

“Grandmother would never forgive you if you married me on the floor of your ship.”

He brushed her cheek with his. “Would you forgive me?”

“I’d have to think about it,” she teased with a grin he happily kissed away.

“Where should we go then?” A kiss to her forehead. “Naboo?” A nibble to her chin. “Coruscant?” A rub to her nose with his. “Mandalore?”

She laughed. “Yes, reclaim Mandalore for me, and I’ll marry you by the lake outside of Keldabe.”

“De ner haat.”

By my honor.

Still smiling, she kissed him once more and then relaxed against him, head on his shoulder, a hand stroking through the hair by his ear. Her happiness sparkled under his skin everywhere she touched him.

“I don’t care where… but I would like to have my eyes open. When we marry, I want to see you.”

A thin curl of worry smoldered in his throat. “Will the helmet be enough?”

She was quiet for a long moment, considering again. “Yes. I will never ask you to break your Oath for me, de ner haat.”

The worry immediately extinguished. He kissed her forehead. “Vor entye.”

I accept this debt. Or thank you.

“Of course, ner riduur.”

My husband.

He smiled and held her tighter, the edges of his person threatening to burst from their shared joy too large to be contained within just himself.

“Din Djarin of clan Vard’on, chosen of Niæna, has a nice sound to it,” she said, smiling too.

“Yes. It does.”

They arrived in Tatooine the next day, Peli extremely happy to see her money. And also them.

Nia flipped through the recovered data, the proof of Peli’s hard work evident in the relief in her eyes. “It’s here. This can all be traced back to Terreck and Phasia,” she said before tucking the drive away.

“Thank you, Peli,” Din said, offering a hand.

She looked surprised then shook his hand. “Eh, it wasn’t that difficult. And tell you what, next time you come to Tatooine, I’ll get rid of that dent on the back side of the ship for you. Half-price.”

Now with the evidence in hand, it was time to reach back out to Ro.

Nia left another puzzle box on the doorstep of her house, hoping that it hadn’t been abandoned.

But even if Ro was still around, there was no guarantee that she would answer.

However, about a week after they left the message, they got a holo request. Nia looked back at him from where she sat in the captain’s chair, face twisted with worry. He gave her an encouraging nod, and she accepted the call.

Ro appeared, her semi-translucent face completely neutral.

“Ro, I’m glad you called,” Nia said, offering a slight smile.

Ro nodded once. “Your message said you can explain what happened.”

“I can, yes. Phasia… she was working for someone else. Someone bad. And I can prove it. I swear by the Manda’lor. I swear by Anella.”

“Fine, fine. Bring your proof and I’ll listen. But I want to meet with just you. Leave the buckethead behind.”

Nia looked his way. He pulled off a glove, brushing fingers against her hand out of view of the camera. Her worry flowed through the contact, but changed to gratitude as she felt his understanding.

“Alright. Tell me where, and I’ll come alone,” Nia promised.

“I’ll send coordinates.” But instead of hanging up, Ro paused. “If you… after we clear the air… it might be nice to… catch up.”

Nia’s whole face brightened. “Do you want to go camping? Like old times?”

“You remembered,” Ro said with a small smile.

“I did, yeah. Finally.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too.”

Since Nia was going to be with Ro for a few days, Din decided he’d be better off finding something to do with his time rather than just wait. Luckily, Ranzar Malk had a job that fit very neatly within their schedule.

And it was only slightly illegal.

“Why do you work with Ran?” Nia asked as she adjusted the straps of her bag over her shoulders.

Din picked up a few extra ration bars from their supply in the hull wall and slipped them into her backpack, as well as a flash grenade. Just to be safe. “He pays. And we need the money.”

She turned around. “The Guild also pays.”

“He pays more.”

He was wearing his gloves so he couldn’t feel her thoughts when she threaded her fingers with his. But he could see them plain on her face anyway.

“You’re disappointed,” he said.

She shook her head. “No. I understand survival. But… I don’t know, hopefully someday we can choose between the right thing and the job.” She sighed and squeezed his hands. “Just please be safe. Don’t let Xi’an stab you.”

“Don’t let Ro stab you,” he replied, making her smile.

“I promise.”

This was the first time in nearly nine months of being together they were going to purposefully part for more than a few hours. As she made to step away, he pulled her back in, close enough to rest the brow of his helmet on hers.

“Wherever you go, I go,” he whispered, even as he reminded himself that they weren’t physically joined at the hip.

She smiled softly and touched his helmet as if she was cupping his cheek. “Mhi solus dar’tome.”

We are one apart – the second line of the marriage vows.

Heart surging up into his throat, he reached for his helmet before he could change his mind. Automatically, she closed her eyes. “Wait. Don’t,” he whispered, something deep inside him shaking.

Her eyes opened slowly, surprise drawing them wide as he reached up again. He lost sight of her as he tipped the helmet up just far enough to kiss her good-bye, gently yet meaningfully.

It wasn’t quite an Oath break, right?

Her fingertips brushed over his jaw, his lips. The awe tingling through the connection made him smile, the first one she’d ever seen.

She gasped and pressed a kiss to the bare spot in his facial hair where a beard stubbornly refused to grow. “You have a beautiful smile, Din Djarin,” she whispered, a fingertip brushing his dimple.

He lowered the helmet back into place and she came into view again, her warm smile still on her face. “Thank you. I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Ret'urcye mhi,” he replied, leaning over and opened the hull door.

Sunlight flooded the room as Nia grabbed her staff from its usual resting place. Ro was waiting just outside of the treeline, hands folded behind her back and her own bag at her feet. Her expression softened as Nia came into view.

Nia jogged down the ramp, stopping one last time to wave back at Din, before running to join Ro. They spoke for a few moments before Ro grabbed her bag and they fell into step, heading down the path together.

Din watched them go till Nia disappeared between the trees, already counting the minutes till he could kiss her again as he closed the hull door and flew away.

As Ran’s quick, easy, and not-all-that-illegal job turned out to be none of those things, Din promised himself this was the last time he’d work with this crew. The two of them could make it by with just the Guild from now on. Dodging fang and knife attacks from your supposed partners was not worth the pay bump.

Ignoring offers for drinks with most of the crew (and far more than just drinks with Xi’an), Din immediately grabbed his share and jumped into hyperspace. Ran’s poor planning had made him a few hours later to meet Nia than he’d originally hoped.

Din half-expected her to be waiting by the treeline as he landed in the exact same spot he’d left her in two days ago.

But she wasn’t there.

That was fine. He knew where they were planning to camp, not even half a mile down the path, near the river.

Maybe he could surprise her, he thought as he headed down the trail, fallen leaves squishing underfoot. Huh, they probably got rained on quite a bit.

He heard the babbling of the river first. And soon after the path through the trees widened with the bank, revealing a near panoramic view of the river bend.

It’d be the perfect spot to camp. But he didn’t see any signs of fire pits or sleeping rolls in the softened earth.

No sign of Nia or Ro either.

What he did see, drew him to a full stop.

Nia’s staff laid abandoned in the mud.

He stared at it for a long moment, before looking around. “Nia?” he called, loud enough to be heard in the nearby vicinity. But there was no answer.

He wrenched the staff from the mud, the weapon half-buried as if… as if it’d been left for some time.

“NIA?” he yelled again before searching for the story in the river bank. However, the heavy rain had washed anything useful away, leaving only rivulet trails and puddles behind. Not even his visor could identify footprints.

A black pit opened up in his gut, large enough to swallow him whole.

He ripped off his helmet, breath fogging slightly in the air, and looked around wildly with his own eyes.

“NIA,” he bellowed, voice breaking as it echoed between the spaces in the forest and across the water.

Silence was the only reply.

Nia was gone.

It was several weeks later that Din was back in the Vod’oya headquarters, this time alone. He set up the holo recorder on the table and activated it, stepping back to the foot and trying to pick a place to begin.

“Anella, I have… Something’s happened.”

He looked at the glowing light of the recorder and knew that this wasn’t the right way to do this, for so many reasons. But fear more than Creed kept his helmet on his head.

“Nia’s gone missing,” he said, face screwing up from the stabbing pain of it. “She met with Ro, they were together for two days, and… and she wasn’t there when I returned. I don’t know if Ro did something, or if someone took them both, or…

He shook his head, just barely holding together enough to get out the words. “I have searched everywhere I can think. Ro’s house is abandoned. No one’s been through the school but me. Even Basslan seems to have gone underground, his staff haven’t seen him for months. I’ve thought about putting out a bounty for Nia, but… I don’t want her getting hurt.

“I’m never going to stop looking for her, de ner haat. But I don’t know what to do. And I’m out of credits. When you get this message, if you want to reach me, you can find me on Nevarro. Leave word at the cantina or with Greef Karga.”

He made himself make eye contact with the glowing lens, as if it would make a difference behind his beskar barrier. “I’m sorry, I…” He sucked a shaking breath. “I’m so sorry, Anella.”

And he ended the recording.

There was one last place he hadn’t gone yet for help.

But now with nothing left, and him nearly ready to believe he deserved it, he returned to the Covert.

Visored gazes felt heavy, pressing in on his armor. Did they know? Would they hate him for losing what so few were lucky to find?

He ducked his head and didn’t pause till he reached the armory, sitting down in front of the forge. Hoping – praying – that this would fix… anything. Something.

The Armorer put down her hammer and sat across from him. Even through two barriers of beskar, her gaze was leaden. “What is it you seek?”

Din dropped his view to his lap, shoulders bowing under the weight of Everything. “...My Match. She was taken,” he finally admitted, breath cutting out of him unevenly through his meager remaining control.

“By who?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I have searched… everywhere.” His control snapped, throat tightened. It was like he suddenly couldn’t breathe for the weight of his cuirass. “She’s… she cannot be found. Even by me.”

“Did she see your face?” she asked calmly.

Her question, in light of everything he’d just told her, everything he’d been living through, everything he’d lost, scalded and immediately scarred.

He stared at her for a moment. “What does it matter?”

“It matters.”

No. No, it didn’t. It DID NOT MATTER.

Outrage making his hands shake, he wrenched off his helmet, throwing it to the ground with such force it bounced and rolled away.

But the Armorer saw his intent and turned before she saw his face.

It just fueled his rage. He wanted her to see, to take this away from him too.

“She was my Match!” he shouted, standing to his feet. “How was she, above every other living thing in the galaxy, still forbidden from knowing my face?”

The Armorer tipped her helmet slightly, but didn’t look away from the opposite wall. “This Is The Way.”

“It was not The Way for other Mandalorians! She was clan Vard’on; her ancestors were there to ride the Mythosaur. I met her clan! I saw their faces!”

“Some Mandalorians have abandoned the true ways. But you have not yet answered my question. Did she see your face?” she asked again, completely unfazed from his outrage.

He sucked in several shuddering breaths as the cruel truth welled up in his throat.

Nia was his Match. She was bonded so closely to him he felt her emotions. She had agreed to marry him. She wanted to be one when they were together, to be one when they were apart, to share everything, to raise their children as warriors, and yet–

“No. She never knew my face.”

The only sound was his low gasps as he wept for all that had been stolen from his care, stolen because he hadn’t been vigilant enough to protect it. Reckless, careless, and now–

Matchless.

He dropped back onto the bench, head in hands as the truth ran its course through him, leaking out drop by drop, till he was Empty.

Only once he’d grown quiet again, did the Armorer stand and walk calmly to where his helmet had landed. Never once looking at him.

“Even in your hardship, you have been given a blessing.”

Din stared down at his hands, empty and disconnected. “What blessing?” he asked, bitterly.

“The galaxy can take your Match. It can take your parents, your planet. And one day, it will take your life,” she said calmly as she circled around to stand behind him. “But it cannot take your belief.”

She set the helmet down on the bench next to him and continued, “Hold fast. And do not surrender what can never be taken from you, Mandalorian.”

He stared at the helmet for a long while.

If he walked away right now, he would truly have No One. Nothing.

And he would deserve it.

He rested a hand on the top, and the emptiness between his lungs cauterized to a permanent hole. Ragged, but not bleeding. Not anymore.

He picked the helmet and slipped it over his head, seeing the world only through his view screen once more.

“This Is The Way,” the Armorer said.

“This Is The Way,” he repeated.

After all,

What’s a lost Match to a man like Din Djarin?

End of Part I

Interlude I ; posting soon!

taglist: @loversandantiheroes ; @kelenloth ; @keeper0fthestars ; @sarahjkl82-blog ; @thirstworldproblemss ; @spideysimpossiblegirl ; @i-belong-in-fandoms ; @gallowsjoker ; @nova646 ; @darnitdraco

#The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #Din Djarin x ofc #mando x ofc #din djarin x oc #mando x oc #din djarin fanfiction #soulmate au #star crossed #my writing

27 notes · View notes