#mando x original character

[lovelessdagger]

Starlight -Chapter 38: Losing Dogs

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

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

Words: 3.5k

Summary:  He fears the brink of insanity.

Masterlist | Starlight Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

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

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

He fears the brink of insanity.

What a king he will make…

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

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

Better it all just collapse.

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

He blames her. He shouldn’t. He does.

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

A sick closure. 

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

Fuck.

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

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

Maybe there’s a feeling of obligation.

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

He doesn’t love Lumina.

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

There are too many variables.

Maybe he isn’t okay.

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

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

“Why’s that?”

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

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

“Is that wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

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

She thanks the guard in Huttese, he bows.

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

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

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

They’re too similar.

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

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

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

Fennec says his name: “Din.”

Lumina drives away.

He follows

---

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

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

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

She pulls back, allowing him to take the lead.

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

Sick.

---

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

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

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

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

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

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s advice. Take it.”

“Now listen here—”

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

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

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

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

“Better than great.”

“And the bordering trade routes?”

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

Din nods. “Marshal.”

“Cobb.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not for you.”

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

“Is that so?”

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

“Course.”

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

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

“But do you trust them?”

He doesn’t know why he says, “I do.”

---

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

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

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

If this is his future, he is wholly unprepared.

Though any aide from the Fetts going forward seems nonexistent.

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

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

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

They shake hands.

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

They offer her food and she does not take.

They ask why.

She gives the same excuse.

Sick.

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

Ultimately, he decides it to not be his place.

---

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

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

Either is an accurate assessment.

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

And yet—

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

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

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

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

He should have.

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

She looks at the Mandalorian. 

He stands. He leaves.

She thinks too much.

---

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

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

They each grip the sabers swinging on their hips.

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

“What is it?” he asks.

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

Her hand raises. “Sh.”

The wind blows, she takes off running.

Din swears and chases.

---

“Lumina. Lumina!”

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

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

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

“Lu,” Din says.

“She’s hurt.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Give it.” She holds out her hand.

“It doesn’t work.”

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

“Lu—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’s reminded of the word.

Sick.

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

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

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

He never tells her.

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

---

They are.

She is.

But so is he.

In that, there is comfort.

Perhaps peace.

In time, forgiveness.

---

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

They make do.

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

“For what?”

He shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed.

They don’t do well with silence.

“I’m sorry.”

Exhibit A.

Lumina shrugs. “I deserved it.”

He says her name.

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

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

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

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

She pets his hair.

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

“I got scared.”

“Of me?”

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

“From me.”

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

“I was happy on Naboo.”

“You almost drowned yourself.”

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

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

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

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

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

---

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

Or they do.

The longer the night goes, they do.

They mean every bit.

---

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

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

She is not totally lost, only misguided.

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

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

Her wrist hurts.

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

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

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

She shouldn’t feel so worthless.

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

Escaping feels more a futile effort now more than ever.

Though she’d like to stop crying. 

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

As said before, everything is exhausting.

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

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

This may be another aspect of sickness.

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

Something has to change.

She refuses to be found here.

---

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

---

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

He dresses slow.

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

“Everything alright?” Cobb asks.

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

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

Gone to where you’d hunt me.

Saying goodbye.

L.

--------

Chapter 39: Pyre (Interlude)

-------

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

[djarins-cyare]

Never Look Down

Part 1: Din’s Evening

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

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

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

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

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

Word count: 5,330

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

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

READ ON AO3 (author’s preference)

Tumblr version ahead if you prefer…

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

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

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

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

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

Why isn’t Maia picking up?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he can’t do anything about it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He can’t see Maia.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing.

He knocks gently, giving it a few moments.

Still nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maia, it’s Din. Can you sit up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dank farrik, he’s a fucking idiot.

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

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

But how?

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

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

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

Speaking of whom…

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

It kills him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Is she really attracted to him?

He has to know.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fucking. Bliss.

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

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

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

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

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

If only.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Part 2 →

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tags requested…

@aheadfullofsteverogers @alltheotps @axolotllover225 @burntheedges @copperhalfcent

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

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

@604to647 @cheekychaos28 @djarinmuse @gingerlurk

@joelalorian @kyberblade @readingupsidedown @sunflowersunlight7-blog

@thefrogdalorian @whataenginerd @wrathkitty

[wrathkitty]

Short Debts Make Long Friends - Chapter 24 Snippet

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

Paz, who despised you. 

The Armorer, who tolerated you.

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

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

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

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

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

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[kittyhasskittles]

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

Bonus Panel:

They're so silly.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Guess

Fandom: Star Wars, The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: PG13, fluff

Word count:

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

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

“Stop scowling.”

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

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

“I was not.”

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

“I do say so.”

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

Dinny Bear when she was intoxicated.

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

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

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

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

“Stop looking so grumpy.”

“You cannot see my face.”

“Yeah but you look grumpy.”

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

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

“Play with Grogu.”

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

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

“A drinking game.”

“Drinking is a game now?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You have….big green ears.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No moustache.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s not what I meant!”

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

“You’re kidding,” she said, scoffing.

“I’m not known for my humor.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What, no. A deal is a deal.”

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

“Lights out.”

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

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

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

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

“I am. Are *you* sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[chiriwritesstuff]

... in Every Universe - A Roswell-inspired Modern! Din Djarin x F! Reader Soulmates AU (Prologue)

Chapter Rating: M

Chapter Summary: At five years old, you're found wandering alone in a weird town called Roswell and have no recollection of how you got there. 20 years later, you're working at your adoptive family's diner and you can't help the connection you feel with the town's bounty hunter, who just can't stop staring at you... what happens when you're on the brink of death and the man in question saves you in a way you can't explain?

Chapter Tags and Warnings: Canon divergent, minor descriptions of violence towards the reader (she gets shot), flashes between different universes and POVs, eventual smut, explicit language, loosely based on 'Roswell' (the 1999 WB series), Grogu exists in all universes, no beta we die like men!

Word Count: 1.7k

Nova

"Here we go! One meteor shake and one Alien Blood for the lady!"

You place the drinks down on the table, a forced smile gracing your lips as you eye the eccentric couple across from you. Arching a curious eyebrow, you take in their vibrant Crash Festival shirts, suppressing the urge to snort. "So, are you two here for the Crash Festival this weekend?"

"We sure are!" the man excitedly says, placing an arm around his girlfriend. "It's our first time here in Roswell. Are you from here?"

"Proud to say my family's been in Roswell for at least the last four generations," you declare, a hint of pride coloring your words as you wipe your hands on your apron.  Sure, you think to yourself.  I was actually found wandering around town by myself not knowing who I was at five years old before being found by your adoptive father one night, but how would they know?

The couple's faces light up with excitement, drawing closer to you. "So your family must know about what happened all those years ago then?" the woman asks, her voice barely above a whisper. "...with the crash, that is?"

"Well, I guess since you both seem like nice folks, it wouldn't hurt to share this with you," you say conspiratorially, reaching into your apron and withdrawing a folded paper. "I assume you can keep a secret?"

The couple's eyes widen as they slowly take the photo out of your hands, their mouths agape in astonishment. Your coworker Omera rolls her eyes as she passes by, coffee pot in hand, chuckling quietly to herself. "You are so bad," she whispers in your ear. "You're lucky your dad isn't around, I'm sure Greef would sprout another head if he had to deal with your antics once again," she adds, offering refills to the two men at the table next to you.  

"Refill, gentlemen?" Omera asks the men, frowning as she notices their aggravated state.

"Does it look like we need any refills?" one of the men asks harshly, waving her off. "Just go away!" he shouts, glaring at her. She gives you a frown as she turns around.  

You wave her off quickly, turning your attention back to the couple.  

"My grandfather actually was working near the crash site when he was younger and managed to take a picture before the feds arrived to clean up the scene," you whisper, glancing to your side to make sure no one else can hear your conversation. The photo shows a grotesque alien amongst the wreckage of a crash site, obviously fake.  

"Does anyone else know about this photograph?" the woman presses, taking note of your hesitance.  

"Well, I know about it, and now you guys know, too." You say seriously, trying not to laugh at their obliviousness.  

"Woah, this is fucking insane!" the man exclaims quietly, looking at the photograph once more.  

"I'll be right back, alright?" you suddenly say, a serious look on your face. "Don't show that to anyone, okay?"

"Yeah!" they both sputter, the man folding the photograph and placing it in his pocket. "Your secret's safe with us!" the woman whispers, nodding.

You nod back at her, straightening yourself up. You catch up to Omera as she laughs at the mischievous expression on your face.  

"You are such a menace!" Omera playfully smacks you as the two of you make your way back to the kitchen, a satisfied smirk on your face. "Oh, and Din Djarin is staring at you again," she adds, discreetly nodding in his direction.

"No way!" you exclaim, pushing her into the kitchen. "Omera, that is so in your imagination!"

You turn to look in the direction of the man in question, your eyes meeting his as he clears his throat, quickly breaking eye contact and glancing at his young son seated next to him. Your breath suddenly catches in your throat as you nervously glance back at your friend, the collar of your scratchy uniform suddenly too tight and constricting. "Din Djarin? This?" you point to yourself, shaking your head at your best friend. "No, uh-uh."

"Oh, but with those cheeks and that smile of yours? How can that handsome brooding man resist the princess of Roswell, huh?"

"Omera, come on, cut it out!" you exclaim, waving your hands in protest. "...and even if he was staring at me, it doesn't matter. I'm with Cobb! He's steady, sexy, and totally into me!" you declare, nodding to yourself as if trying to convince yourself as well.

"It sounds like you're describing a golden retriever or something," Omera deadpans, walking back towards the dining hall. "Sounds awfully exciting, shacking up with the Sheriff and all that," she mutters to you, shaking her head. "Why have dependable vanilla sex when you can have exciting mysterious sex with Roswell's resident bounty hunter? I bet he could fuck you five ways to-"

"I gave you a week!" the man from the neighboring table shouts, jumping up and pulling out a gun from his pocket. "You're about to see what happens when you mess around!"

"Nova!" Omera's voice rings out suddenly. "Call your dad, things are getting crazy!"

Before you can react, the other man lunges at the one with the gun, struggling to disarm him. In the chaos, the gun goes off, and you feel a sharp pain as you're hit.

"Oh my god!" Omera exclaims, turning to the other patrons. "Is everyone okay?" She looks towards your direction, her eyes widening in shock as she sees you curled up on the floor. "Nova!" she screams as the dining room descends into chaos, the two men running out of the restaurant in a hurry before someone calls 911. "Someone, help!" she screams into the crowd frantically.

Din 

Din jumps as he sees the bullet go in your direction, glancing at his young son still seated in the chair next to him. "Grogu, are you okay?"

"Yes, dada," he shakily responds, his eyes glancing at your crumpled form. "Nova's hurt!" he exclaims, pointing in your direction. "Grogu help her!" he cries, attempting to get out of his seat.

"No!" Din shouts, "You stay right there, I'll help her, okay? Stay with Uncle Boba!"

"Din, no," Boba warns through gritted teeth. "We can't risk getting exposed-"

"I can't just fucking leave her to bleed out!" Din cries helplessly, looking in your direction. "I need to help her!"

As he rushes toward you, Omera follows closely behind. "Call 911!" he commands, using it as a diversion to keep her away, not wanting her near the two of you as he grapples internally with what he's about to do.

"Nova," he whispers, ripping your uniform away from your body, his eyes trained on the blood pooling on your torso. "I need you to look at me, can you do that for me?" he pleads, placing a hand behind your head. "Nova," he begs, "Please baby, I need you to look at me."

Your eyes flutter open slightly as he gazes intently back at you, his hand applying pressure to your wound with gentle urgency. Vivid images flood your mind as Din focuses on healing you.

In an instant, you're in a desert, brandishing a laser sword against a lizard-like adversary. A voice calls out, and you're struck from behind by a blaster shot. Then, as Din presses harder on your wound, you're transported to a spaceship, writhing in pain as you clutch your abdomen. A figure stands beside you, armored and mysterious, their helmet removed. But before you can identify the man in armor, you snap back to reality, meeting the deep brown eyes of Din once more.

Din breathes a sigh of relief as the wound on your torso closes, his eyes fluttering closed as he recalls the visions he shared with you moments before. She can't be, he thinks to himself, his hands cradling your face gently as he draws you closer to him, pulling you into the safety of his chest. "You're okay, Nova," he whispers against your ear. "You're with me, alright? Stay with me."

"Dada," Grogu's sudden cry breaks the moment, his face etched with concern. "Did you heal mama?"

"What did you say?" Din's voice is filled with disbelief as he looks at his son. "What did you call her?"

"Mama," Grogu repeats, attempting to reach you. "I felt her pain just now, I knew I saw her in my dreams-"

"Djarin!" Boba's sudden shout startles you, and Grogu protests as he's lifted up, reaching out toward both of you. "We've got to go, NOW!"

Din swiftly assesses the situation, gently setting you back down on the ground before grabbing a nearby bottle of ketchup. Squeezing it over your chest and uniform, he meets your gaze with urgency. "You took a fall and broke the bottle accidentally," he whispers to you, swiftly rising to his feet. "Please, if Cobb asks, just say it was a nasty fall, okay?" With that, he dashes towards the door, joining Boba and Grogu already waiting in the idling car outside.

You nod as Omera rushes to your side, helping you up as you watch Din jump into the car and speed away.

"Nova," Omera says, her voice filled with concern as she takes in your disheveled appearance. "What in the hell just happened?"

"I don't know," you stammer, trying to make sense of it all. You close your eyes once more, and it feels as though you're still in that spaceship, with Din's hands clasping yours as he gazes back at you, tears streaming down his face. Your heart races as you glance down at your wounded form, only to find yourself suddenly pregnant, your eyes widening in disbelief at your swollen abdomen.

"Stay with me, Nova," Din pleads in your memory, tearing away your tunic as blood gushes from your abdomen. "Please, stay with me," he cries, tears cascading down his face as he tenderly caresses your pregnant belly. "Please Cyar'ika, please don't leave me!"

"Nova!" Omera's desperate screams are the last thing you hear as you slip into unconsciousness, the world around you plunging into darkness.

[kidhellion]

POV: you forgot to turn your flash off as din takes the first bath he’s had in years

[whxtedreams]

Oath Broken and Soul Bound Masterlist

A WItch Hunter!Din Djarin x OFC!Witch Series

Tales of witch meetings, gruesome and horrific, were used to fan the flames of fear and ensure the harsh punishment and persecution of those accused of witchcraft. The subsequent actions born out of the fear and hatred for witches were far worse than the stories that inspired them. The persecution and killings of those accused of witchcraft were not just ruthless, but often downright brutal.

**Blurb is subject to change until i begin writing**

Astaria Lowell had sworn to never take a life. So when Astaria is staring down at the Kingdom’s deadliest Witch Hunter that she had nearly killed, she must do what she can to save him. Which involved bringing the Hunter into her coven… full of Witches. As his health returned, Astaria realised three things. Din Djarin had not killed her. He was now wanted by the Lords for breaking his oath and she was to be tried as a Witch. They were both set to burn for their crimes. They needed to escape the Lords, but they couldn’t do it alone.

A Witch with forbidden magic. A Witch Hunter turned oath breaker.  A pathological liar nobody trusts. A Dragon Rider without his Dragons. A grieving father with a trigger happy finger.

Five unlikely… friends, all needing a way out of the Kingdom for their own selfish reasons.

One impossible task they might be able to complete if they don’t get each other killed in the process. Or rather, kill each other.

Main Current Tags

WItch Hunter!Din Djarin, OFC!Witch, witch hunts, violence, author has researched but is still learning, forbidden love, Third person POV, fantasy AU, world building, pirate!Ezra, Dragon Rider!Frankie, Joel Miller just wants to be left alone,

Chapter List

word count // 1.8k

Part 1

1. The Hunter // 1.8k

Part 2:

Part 3:

Part 4:

Part 5

Part 6

the one shot that inspired this - The Hunter and His Witch

Other

Character Study

Notes

I am currently in a writers course and this is the story I'm writing for it. I am learning more as I write and may come back and edit things from time to time. The cover is hand drawn, don’t look at me - I tried. I was very hesitant to write an OC! instead of reader insert since I’ve seen a lot of people say they tend not to read them, but you will love Astaria I swear. She’s pretty cool. NOT doing a tag list for this series. If you want updates, you can subscribe to my AO3 and you will get emails when I upload.

[kenobiwanx]

here i am drawing din and my oc to let you know that my commissions are open! 🫢

[lovelessdagger]

Chapter Thirty-Four: The Repetition of Poetry

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC

Rating: Mature

Summary: So this is it. The end—or more accurately, its climax.

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Graphic Violence. Implied Torture. Derealization. Drugging. Angst. Medical Horror. Sith Nonsense. Someone loses a limb. Again.

Words: 8k

Summary: So this is it. The end—or more accurately, its climax.

A/N: Trying out a new way of formatting. The other chapters will be changed to reflect this eventually.

Masterlist | Starlight Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

Doctor Pershing insists on keeping Lumina restrained during their sessions. Her ankles are tethered to the legs of an iron chair. Her hands, free yet restricted in binders, inhibiting her access to the Force. He claims it’s imperative the holds not conduct electricity, a fear of intervention in his study. Monitors to her left attach to her skin and skull through stuck on wire.

Heart rate, oxygen, brainwave activity. A handheld device on the table remains constantly pointed in her direction, reading out any electromagnetic emission. He says she’s radioactive. She isn’t entirely sure what that means.

He asks, “Have you heard any more voices since beginning your medication?”

She answers no.

He requires she take three pills a day, one in the morning, one in the afternoon, and one just before night hours. The morning acts as a super nutrient, the middle for her supposed psychosis, the last for sleep. He watches her swallow, and checks under her tongue after each. 

“Any visual hallucinations?”

“No.”

She’d just taken the first of the day.

“Mania?”

“Depends who you ask.”

“Paranoia?”

She shrugs. “Always.”

“But no voices?”

“No voices.”

He types, maintaining eye contact. She looks away. He stands.

“You’ve made excellent progress,” he tells her. “You should be proud of yourself.” He kneels, untying her ankles. “Your levels have finally stabilized to a healthy rate. Many of your symptoms are from a typical trauma response. With time and more sessions they should fade as well.” He takes her wrists, removing the binders.

“Finishing early?” she asks.

He stands, but tells her no, not quite. He asks her to stay seated, and leaves saying he’ll return.

Lumina listens. 

She considers helping when Pershing returns, struggling to manually open the doors. Even without the restrictors, there’s no point in it. She sits with her head pressed on the table, sure to leave a mark when it rises. The emission reader pushes against her scalp. She couldn’t understand the numbers if she tried. 

“It wasn’t easy to get this approved,” Doctor Pershing says, grunts in-between as he closes the door again. “But, I considered it necessary. For both your healths.”

Both?

A baby coos. She gasps, sitting up and only feels slightly faint.

Grogu squeals, babbling with hands in her direction.

She wells with tears before she can think. “Can I hold him?” she breaks. “Please?”

Pershing nods. “Of course.” He passes the Child over, he clings to her. 

“Thank you,” she whispers. Again and again. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Lumina inspects every visible part of him. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” To Pershing, “What did you do to him? Did you hurt him?”

“No,” he says immediate, sitting again. “No I would never. He’s only a child. To be truthful, all I’ve done is extract a blood sampling. A majority of my time aboard has been with you.”

She ignores. “Did he hurt you?”

A wave passes through the Force; No.

She pets back his ears, nodding. “Okay.”

“You should know he’s incapacitated a total of eight stormtroopers aboard.”

“Did he kill them?”

“No.”

“Good.” She taps his nose. “Good job.”

“You’re proud of this?”

“He’s defending himself.”

“And how do you suppose he’ll react himself when he discovers you have rejoined the Empire?” He makes a wave to her uniform. “Is he expected to combat you as well?”

“If I ever to pose a threat to him, yes.”

He types again, clicking a persistent nuisance. “Were you ever expected to combat Lord Vader?” Readings on the monitors increase. “Yes or no,” he pushes.

“On his request. Yes.”

“Can you present an example of a request?”

Her foot taps. “When he first presented me with a second lightsaber. He threw it at me, turned on his own. The expectation was that I fight him.”

“And of the other times when he would become physically violent towards you. What was the expectation?”

Lumina’s head shakes. “That never happened.”

“No?”

“No.” Knuckles crack, pressed against her thigh. She grows quiet, confidence stripped away. “He never hit me. He wasn’t a monster.”

Doctor Pershing stutters. He says the Machine’s name, covered in disbelief. Like he were here in the room, standing behind her. She tries to imagine the Machine, feel his presence, his scratching electronics, his towering figure. The red eyes of his helmet, the pumping of his iron lungs sounding into their dead space of silence.

It offers little comfort, instead she’s supplied with resentment. She becomes the source of what he has left behind. Impatience. Intolerant. Arrogant. Miserable.

She becomes a vessel of her fathers torment.

Beeping from monitors become shrill cries. Doctor Pershing grabs the radiation monitor, waving it over her form. He remains unfazed by the results. He produces a lightbulb, holding it out. His datapad props up, camera aimed to her.

He announces the experiment. “Holo Log One-Twenty-Five under CF-318F1. Test eighty-seven.” She preforms her role, removing her gloves, taking the glass in her right hand. She holds its base, figures pressed around the metal. It indents her.

The results are null. She places the glass down, hands return to her lap. To the Child.

Doctor Pershing sighs, typical of this routine. The camera turns off. “That’s alright,” he says. “Let’s explore something else. Your bond to the Child. How did it begin?”

Lumina leaves him without response in favor of Grogu. Her fingers tickle his stomach, blowing kisses in his cheek. “You’re stinky,” she mumbles. “It’s okay. They didn’t clean me either. I’ll make sure you get a wash soon Bug, I promise.”

“Your relationship to him is greater than I suspected,” Pershing says, a glimmer of awe. “I never would have guessed you could be so… maternal.”

“I try,” she says. “I’ve only really known one before.”

“One mother?”

“Yes. She was kind. Gentle, but strong.” Lumina looks to Pershing. “You’ve seen my genetics. Do I have one?”

“Well,” he stutters. “Theoretically, every being has a mother.”

“So I’ve been told. But do I?”

“I… I’m sure,” he admits. “Though with no match in the database, it’s impossible to say who.”

“Do I have any matches?”

“I am not at liberty to say. I’m sorry.”

“Do you have one? A mother.”

He softens. “I did. Though it has been many years since her passing.”

“How long?”

“Decades. I was only a boy. She got sick.”

“Did you love her?”

“Yes. Very much.”

 Lumina nods, pensive. “Would you like to see her?”

He freezes. “Pardon?”

“I can help you see her again. If you’d like to that is.”

“How?”

“I can enter your consciousness through the Force, granting me access to your memories.” She bounces Grogu. “I’ve done it with him. It won’t hurt if you consent, and I won’t touch you if you’re too afraid.”

He’s hesitant. “How do I know you won’t harm me?”

“You don’t. Not really. I know there’s nothing I can say to make you trust me. I could snap your neck if I wanted to. Make your brains blow from the inside. But you’ve been the only one aboard to listen to me. Respect me. Despite, everything,” she says to the monitors. “And you brought him back. I have no reason to harm you anymore.”

Doctor Pershing stares at her, he removes his glasses, wiping it on his jacket. “Okay,” he whispers. “What do I do?”

“Close your eyes,” Lumina guides. “Think of her. I’ll go from there.”

The art of presentation of one’s self is not a endeavor to be taken lightly. Absolute perfection must be achieved, errors will not be tolerated. A single strand of hair for example, raised away from the rest, shows a carelessness in grooming, lack of attention to detail, insufficient use of styling tools, stupidity.

Fingers with scooped gel run over white hair. Ghost glares in the mirror to achieve a flawless partition along her scalp. “Regulation states you must straighten your hair,” she says to the girl behind her. “Or at least pull it back. You look like an animal.”

There holds no truth in the statement, an unnerving admittance. The assessment of a mane isn’t too far off however, it’s fitting. Voluminous dark curls not too loose nor too tight. Slept in, cared for. Framing bright eyes, alluring everyone into a dangerous trap. 

“I still prefer you with brown eyes,” she continues. Hers meets herself, ice blue into ice blue.  Chilling to the bone. “In certain lighting ours look the same.” She grabs tweezers, plucking a single hair from thin brows. “I should tell you I agree with Doctor Pershing’s assessment of you. You are unsettling. I never thought of it much when we were in our younger years, but seeing how we’ve grown… how you’ve grown. It’s undeniable. You’re a freak.”

Ghost turns around, approaching. “How did they do it? Preselect you with such precision?” She whispers, “It shouldn’t be possible.” She circles, a vulture to prey. A pit of darkness in her hungry stomach. Starved. “Who else are you taken from?”

There is no response.

“A Jedi, I’m sure. Your genetics are your only flaw, and yet it is the reason you’re so…” She groans in frustration. Her bun pulls tight on her head, inducing frequent migraines. “You should have been kept in a lab,” she says. “Let Lord Vader keep his mutt for play, not legacy. It isn’t fair. Every day, years spent competing for his attention when you were preselected the whole time. Created for this purpose alone, and you remain who you are. The rest of us were left to starve, fight. You lived in a palace. Everything you could ever want. Power. Money. Glory. It’s should have never gone to you, you’re ungrateful. Even now, when they all praise you for merely existing.”

It’s worse with her presence in practice than it was in theory. They watch her every step down the corridor, every request is met with unnerving acceptance. They salute, they bow, they excite in the knowledge of shared air. Like she were the first and last woman in the galaxy, the answer to every problem, an immaculate creation from the Force itself. They’re all ridiculous ignorant fools, clawing for attention.

She revels in it too, this much Ghost is certain. She has to, it’s only logical conclusion for their position. Unending gratitude for doing nothing at all. A crowd at her feet, submission willfully given.

That’s the worst of it. The power. It suits her, she wears it on her uniform, in every stitch. The meek stray from their mildness, the arrogant from their ego. Ghost has seen so much happen without understanding any of it at all. The most loyal troopers in steady conversation with her, spewing glory to the Empire until she touches them. Their arm, helmet, hands. The intimacy cannot be afforded and should weaken her, yet it does not.

She asks of their person, their interests, where they are from. Irrelevant anecdotal information with no use. No purpose. Wasting time, energy, resource.

They feed from her because of it.

And Ghost waits for the break every time, for the branch to snap, wood falling to echo. Someone will make a mistake. Cross the unspoken line. This is a ploy to goad them into false security. A lesson on trust and naivety. To prove her rank, be the reason for fear and nightmares.

Ghost was so sure it would have happened earlier, with the TK she spoke to. She believed he’d done it, unleashed the monster. Be the cause of revelation of the inhuman creation Gideon boasts of, that Pershing obsesses over. They’ll all fall in terror. Realize truth never lives to legend. Understand an idols facade is riddled in a constructed narrative.

Then, only then, will they crawl to Ghost. They’ll rally, worship. Beg for her to claim the mantle, rise to the greatness of the Sith stand by the Emperor. Become the daughter that should have been.

And it should have happened. He touched her. He grabbed her arm. No warning, no context, only a firm hold. She stopped talking, animated gloves frozen. Her head turned. It should have happened. They should have been made to believe she is none other than Lord Vader’s child. She should have snapped his hand. His neck. Push him through the Force, impale him on her saber.

Ghost should have watched every light behind every visor fade to misery.

Her arm moved, her hand cupped. He should be hit, tortured, executed.

She should have done every horror imaginable.

The demon from her capture, the one who tore limbs and bathed in blood. She should arise.

Instead, her hand fell gently on his. It squeezes, then rests. She nodded. His shoulders shook like he cried. 

“I’m sorry. I’m certain they miss you as well,” she told him, quiet. 

Ghost didn’t understand at first. Having no lead of conversation to source from. It didn’t make sense, she didn’t make sense. It came upon her later, through an overheard conversation between Pershing and Gideon. 

“I theorize her abilities could be useful during interrogations, should the captive party not be willing to divulge information. It would be far safer than a mind flayer.”

“How do you mean?”

“She’s done it to myself, with my participation of course. She’s able to infiltrate consciousness, resurface memories I did not know I possessed. I saw my mother, heard her for the first time in years like she were here. It’s extraordinary Moff Gideon. Like I could speak to the dead.”

Ghost understood immediately, and suddenly years of TK programming flushed away. 

“You’re a disgrace to the Empire,” Ghost says. She reeks of venom, it drips from every word. She looks to the air.

“It should have been me!” She shouts. “You promised me everything! Where is it? Have I not done enough for you? I expect my dues!”

The air rings hollow until a knock comes at the door. She grants entry. An officer, one of Gideon’s pets. His favorite. Kane.

“Thirteenth Sister,” she says, holding a data pad. “A report has come in from your Inquisitors on Coruscant. You’ll want a look at it.”

“What’s happened?” Ghost asks, taking it. She skims the words.

Code cylinder, Inquisitors, New Republic, Arkanis, investigations, the Senate, information leak.

“It seems the effects of the initial reprogramming weren’t as successful as we once believed,” Kane says. “Gideon has already been informed. He’s awaiting your word of action.”

“Where is she?” Ghost asks.

“Her quarters. Preparing for her last session of the day.”

“Is the alien with her?”

“Yes. It hasn’t left her side.”

“Tell Moff Gideon I will meet him in the bridge momentarily.” Ghost looks behind herself, static figure remaining. “Until then, you’re dismissed.”

Officer Kane bows, the doors close.

In an instant, Ghost’s lightsaber flies into her hand. The right end powers on, she swings rapid at the girl, a feral beast. Her red blade passes though the illusion with no reaction.

She screams at it. She thrashes like a child. She forces the figment to crane its neck, instills fear in its eyes. She makes it bleed.

Somehow, even now, it’s still perfect.

A gentle waterfall washes over the Child’s face. He growls annoyed, feet kinking in the sink of his bath. “Look at you,” Lumina coos. He splashes, giggling at floating bubbles. “You’re so handsome.” 

And decisively less dirty.

She pours water over him again, taking extra care behind the ears. “Your dad is coming,” she whispers.

The room they’ve given her isn’t a far shot from her previous home of a cell. She has a cot, a desk and chair. One tall lamp. A mirror. A small fresher area with a door that refuses to close. She’s been assured there are no cameras in the space, her own detection skills confirming. Still, there’s never a thing as being overly cautious.

Grogu perks up, ears standing alert.

“I heard him,” she goes on to say, draining the basin. “He found out where you are. I think he’s coming today. That’s why we’re washing you now. So you’re nice and clean when he comes. He’ll be so impressed.”

Lumina lifts the Child onto the counter, wrapping him in a towel. “Don’t worry. Come tomorrow you’ll be back on the Crest and no one’s gonna hurt you again. I promise.”

Grogu calms, but falls into this type of silence she hasn’t seen in ages. He knows. He has to, he’s smarter than he looks. Stronger. He asks no questions after, yet Lumina finds the urge to explain regardless.

“I can’t go with you, not anymore. But it’ll be okay. You’ll be with him again, that’s all that matters.“ She pulls his coat on, fixing his feet. “You’ll have to take care of him now. Make sure he’s okay like how he does with you. And you have to listen to him. Be good, do what you’re told.” She taps his nose. “But stay sweet. Keep training. Not be afraid.” Adjusting the collar, Lumina takes him in her arms. “Do you think you can do that?”

He nods. A promise of sorts.

“Good.”

Suddenly, something shifts in the Force, the unbalancing of a scale, slowly tipping. Grogu senses it too, she’s sure. He tries to stand, examining the room. It’s a cold presence, whiskers on his head upright. 

“Okay,” Lumina whispers. “Grogu I need you to listen to me. I don’t know how much time we have, but we have to play a game. We have to play pretend, and it might be scary. But it’s just a game, okay? Remember that. It’s not real.”

He listens to her every word.

A recorder clicks, a holoscanner powers on. Doctor Pershing introduces the recording as their hundredth and twenty eighth. He’s granted her freedom from his machines, just this once she’s sure. Lumina holds the Child in her arms, rocking him steady in a bundle of her old cape. The Mandalorian’s old cape, technically. Debates are still out to whom it gives greater comfort to.

In front of her, a green medication bottle, a cup of water. The second pill of the day. She takes the single dose, drinking away the taste, unusually bitter.

“How are you?” Pershing asks.

“Fine,” she answers, soft. “He’s been hungry, no one is answering my request for food. I’ve had to give him my rations.”

“I apologize for that.” He’s sincere, a growing frown and lines of worry on his forehead. “I may have something in my lab for him. Would a travel biscuit suffice? I have plenty to share.”

“You’re getting travel biscuits?” She asks in disbelief. “I’m lucky if I have more than one piece of nuna jerky. My portions are less than half of what’s normal.” 

“That is to do with the medication,” Pershing explains. “Your nutrients, most of your allotted income for a day comes in the pill. You aren’t starving, I assure you.”

Lumina makes no comment on herself. How she wore the torn shirt she came in after a wash and it hung to her differently. Her muscles less defined. “He still needs food,” she argues. “Real food. Meat especially, he loves it.”

“I’ll make a note.”

“You’ll do,” she pushes. “I’ve made it clear I don’t care what’s done to me, he needs to be taken care of.”

“Of course. I’ll speak to the Moff.”

“Thank you.” Lumina locks onto the recorder, she presents better, more fitting to her station. Her chin lifts, a facade of pride, her feet plant on the ground. “Let’s begin,” she says. “I’d like to spend the rest of the day with him in privacy.”

Pershing presents her files, adjusting his glasses. “Certainly.” He coughs, reading the screen. Though, quite uncharacteristically, he puts it down. “Let’s try something different,” he says. “There are pressing matters we should discuss.”

Blast doors slam open, an echoing bang into the walls. Moff Gideon enters, three troopers follow. They keep their blasters aimed for assault, focused on Lumina.

Pershing flinches. “Moff Gideon.”

Lumina asks, “Why is he here?”

“You promised me one more session, we aren’t done.”

“You are now,” Gideon says, then to his men, “Hold her down. Grab the Child.”

At first step, Lumina startles bumping the table, glass spilling. Commotion ensues, her chair falling back, left hand extended. Troopers begin to yell. They say they’re prepared to shoot. Pershing tries to intervene.

“Moff Gideon you must not hurt her!” He’s somehow more scared than she is, stepping between her and the blasters. “You can’t!”

“I am well aware,” Gideon says. “Worry not doctor, it will be delivered to your new laboratory as expected.”

“You’re not taking him again,” Lumina fights. “I just got him back, you can’t take him!”

Something crosses Gideon’s face. Something sick, activated. He looks at her like a starved to a meal. She could swear he salivates, smiling, teeth and all. “I don’t want the Child,” he says. “I want you.”

Lumina’s hand dashes to her hip. She ignites her saber, red blade waving it out. “Call them off,” she says. “Call them off or I kill every single one of them.”

“Moff Gideon, please,” Pershing begs.

“Quiet,” Gideon barks. He steps forward, between the troopers. “You have a child in your arms. You’re in no position to fight,” he tells her.

“You should know not to underestimate me,” Lumina says. “Last time you did that half your fleet disappeared.”

Moff Gideon repeats a similar motion to her, his hand drawing to his hip, gripping a cylinder of black metal. A blade ignites from it, dark and light all at once. Humming at a rapid and dangerous pace.

She stills. “What is that?”

“You aren’t familiar?” Gideon hums, matching pitch to the saber. “You will be.” In a violent strike his arm raises above his head and swings down on Lumina. She blocks, plasma clashing inharmoniously. Instinctively she turns out, creating space between Grogu and the scene.

“I’ll give you one chance Gideon,” she says. “I don’t play fair.”

“Neither do I.” And his blade swings again, lower. She matches, a scorch mark on the floor.

The stormtroopers fall back, lining the wall. They know better than to intervene, Pershing follows though his guidance comes with fear.

Gideon swings again, and again. He uses two hands on his hilt and all the strength he can muster, the full weight of his body. Lumina predicts his moves, the sole explanation he can think of for her excellency. Still, he moves in, taking advantage of her occupied left side. 

It doesn’t work.

Nothing works.

He can’t win.

In a desperate urgency, Moff Gideon miscalculates. For the duration of their spar she’s worked solely on the defense. Until now. His blocking is just a second too late. Her swing, right on time. Moff Gideon’s saber flies across the hold. His hand goes with it. Cauterized at the point of impact. He crumbles to the floor, clutching to his chest what was once his hand, now a deformed burnt stub. He screams.

Stormtroopers and their weapons flood Lumina’s eye line. Her saber powers off.

She says, “You forget what I come from.”

“I haven’t forgotten thing.” Gideon snarls, a beaten animal. He glares at Pershing as if he were responsible for this outcome. “Has sedative been delivered?”

Pershing answers, quiet. “Yes.”

Sound fades, hollowed in a canyon. Lumina’s vision darts to their table, green medication bottle toppled. Pills spilt. Her heart drops to unsinkable levels.

“What did you do?” She asks, shaking. “What did you give me?”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“Grab her,” Gideon barks.

They do. The troopers, in her shock they swarm her, yanking her arms. The Child falls. She snaps out of her daze when he yips. Pershing picks him up. Struggling, Lumina’s lungs burn with rapid breath. “What did you do?” she asks again, screaming. “What did you do to me? Ghost! Let go of—Ghost!”

“I’m sorry!” Pershing cries. “I’m sorry! I had no choice!”

“Let go of me! Ghost!” Her breath moves faster than she can manage. “Let me go,” she sobs. “Let me go, please. I’m sorry. Please.”

“Moff Gideon—“

“I’m disappointed,” Gideon interrupts. He stands on bent knee. “I expected so much more from you,” he tells her. “I imagine your father would not take well to your behavior.”

“You know nothing about him,” Lumina snaps. 

“I know he wouldn’t tolerate you betraying the Empire. Leaking sensitive Imperial data directly to the New Republic. You have compromised the very foundation of your being.”

“What?”

“The Arkanis Imperial Academy is currently under siege by journalists and investigators. It seems your efforts have taken effect quicker than you expected.”

It hits. Relena.

“She did it,” Lumina whispers. Her eyes flash wild. “You’re fucked.”

“This, is merely a setback. We will overcome.”

“We?” Lumina asks. “This Empire is nothing. What forces do you have now? Admiral Sloane? Commandant Hux? Scraps of what once was? You don’t even have Thrawn. You won’t win. You can’t. It’s over Gideon.”

“I already have,” Gideon says. “I win because I have you.”

“I’ll die before I help you.”

“If you insist, that can be arranged,” he says. “If the reprogramming doesn’t take that is. Of course, once Doctor Pershing harvests your cells, you will no longer be necessary.”

“What?”

“The drugs should take any second now. I should warn you, hallucinations are a harmful side effect. Although,” he muses, “you’re no stranger to that.”

It’s comical, the activation on his word. The flash of heat, beading sweat. “What did you do to me?” Everything is light, floaty, words sound seconds after they’re spoken.

“I’ve done nothing. Yet.” He addresses the troopers. “Time to move.”

They echo, “Yes sir.”

One push, her legs give out, a second, her arms. 

“Sweet dreams,” Moff Gideon says. “318.”

A third, her head.

The last thing she hears, “Take her to the mind flayer.”

They throw Lumina on a type of operating table, room separate from the rest. Her head bangs against the base board, jolting consciousness. They strap down her arms, legs, chest, forehead. Nearby electricity stings.  Her vision flashes in and out, hazed at the edge.

“Moff Gideon,” Doctor Pershing says. Muffled, miles away. “I must protest.”

“I’ve heard enough from you.”

“Sir please—please. There’s no telling what damage the voltage will cause. Her body will not be able to process high electrical currents in the state its in.”

They had taken her to the mind flayer, hadn’t they? It would explain the burning. She’s heard stories, seen first hand what the machine does to its victims. 

Extremist electroshock therapy mixed with sensory overload. To put simply, her own personal hell. The results enough to make Tatooine shiver. Stripping the sentient of all identity. Soulless, they become trapped in a shell of their own bodies. Some lose the ability to speak, to walk, some become so far gone their own organs forget how to function.

They become nothing. A permanent member of the walking dead.

“Moff Gideon I am begging,” Pershing says. “Allow her to come with me unharmed. I assure you—”

Heels click, entering the room. “The Moff is not interested in your negotiations.” Ghost. “Your services are no longer necessary, Doctor. It’s time for you to go.”

“You’re her friend, are you not? Please, tell him to spare her.”

“Doctor,” she says. “Don’t tell me you’re attached to it?” Her face appears above Lumina. “Personally, I don’t care for mutants.” She rises, turning to the doctor. “If it dies, make it again. Make a million of it and keep one to fuck, I don’t care. It isn’t real.” 

“You’re wrong,” Pershing says. “She’s more human than you’ll ever be.”

Silence infects the room.

“Then she’s weak.” Shoes squeak against tile, turning. “You two,” Ghost says. “Escort Doctor Pershing to the hangar. A shuttle is waiting for him. If he resists, kill him.” Her face enters focus again, she grabs Lumina’s chin. “You once said you have an uncanny inability to die. Prove it.”

Bo-Katan Kryze is found on a planet called Lafete in the Outer Rim. Cara and Fennec opt to in the Slave I while Din goes with Boba Fett. Their brief discussion of a plan is the most they’ve said to another since Nevarro. Boba warns Din that he and Bo-Katan may not see eye to eye. She doesn’t like clones, he doesn’t expand, but something tells Din the river runs deep. The situation is far more personal than he can divulge from silence, but he knows not to push.

They agree to let Din do the talking.

He and Boba walk into the cantina, finding Bo-Katan with Koska Reeves. The younger one snickers, signaling Bo-Katan with a toe tap to the calf. 

He tells Bo-Katan of the Child. Stolen by Moff Gideon. He tells her they have coordinates to find him. Everything is ready, he just needs muscle.

Her interest turns. Din mentions her of his light cruiser, preemptively offering it to her. 

“You want to retake Mandalore,” he says. “You do it in that, not a gauntlet.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Boba mutters. “Mandalore? The Empire turned that planet to glass. There’s nothing left. Reclaiming is a spice dream.”

The domino starts here. Back and forth spats. Who is and isn’t Mandalorian. Boba’s armor. His father. His existence.

“You are a clone,” Bo-Katan sneers. “I’ve heard your voice thousands of times.”

He responds on instinct. “Does that include my sister?”

Her brows raise. “So, you’re the Imperial lapdog I’ve heard so much about.” Her stare flickers to Din. “You sure know how to pick your company.”

Boba responds before he can. “Where are they?”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

Conversation lulls. Din can sense Boba’s eyes on him, through the visor. Bo-Katan follows, exposed, she frowns.

“Where’s my sister?”

“I wouldn’t know.” She’s earnest. “Omega dropped off the map after the war ended. I haven’t heard from her since.”

Boba’s nod is robotic. Up. Down. “And the other two?”

“Alive.”

“Where?”

Intention falls behind every word Bo-Katan speaks, mimicking a knife’s edge. “If you know what’s good, you’ll leave them alone. They don’t need you in their lives. You clones have done enough.”

“Is that what you tell him when he asks of his father? I recall only clones being at the wake. If you care so much, where were you?“

She says nothing.

He continues. “The Empire has taken his child, you know how this ends. You’ve seen the effects. Frankly princess, I don’t care how much you hate me or my kind. But if I find out there have been days where you’ve looked that boy in the eye and told him that his father was a bad man—”

“I haven’t,” Bo-Katan says, quick on the draw. “His mother is one of the only friends I have left. She’s my family. I know what he did. The sacrifices he made. How happy he made her. I would never disparage him,” she says. ”I don’t know where your sister is, but I do know that none of them would want to see you. Not after everything.”

Boba is quiet, just for a moment. He doesn’t move, he doesn’t scoff or shake his head. He just stands there.

“They took her too,” he says. “Moff Gideon took her. She’s gone.”

Bo-Katan asks, “Who?”

Din answers, “Lumina.”

She looks at Boba. “How do you know her?” 

He answers slow, accent thick and low. “Why do you think the Empire hired me?”

Bo-Katan freezes where she sits. Din can’t make out much, she hardly gives anything at all. But he watches her eyes, how they flash. Her subtle but present hitching breath. She doesn’t look at Din, only Boba Fett. Boba Fett who says nothing else but nods. 

She nods back.

Koska looks just as lost as he is. He can find comfort in that.

“We will help you,” Bo-Katan says. “Both of you. In exchange, we will keep that ship to retake Mandalore.” Then to Din, “If you should manage to finish your quest, I would have you reconsider joining our efforts. Mandalorians have been in exile from our home world for far too long.”

“Fair enough,” Din says.

“As for the girl, I will take her—“

“She stays with me,” Boba interrupts. “I raised her, I’m the only one she trusts. She won’t go with anyone else. I will not debate this.”

Bo-Katan concedes. “Fine.” She turns to Din. “One more thing. Gideon has a weapon that once belonged to me. It is an ancient weapon that can cut through anything. Except for pure beskar. I agree to your conditions on the terms that I be the one to kill the Moff and retake what is rightfully mine. With the Darksaber restored to me, Mandalore will finally be within reach.”

“Help me rescue the Child and you can have whatever you want,” Din says. “He is my only priority.”

Capturing Doctor Pershing is a task easier said than done. Information from the data capture on Morak detailed a scheduled departure for the scientist on a Lambda class shuttle. Tracking coordinates included.

Boba makes quick work of it once discovered, blasting the fighter with an ion cannon. “Lower your shields,” he pings. “Disengage all transponders, prepare for boarding.” He turns to Din, standing behind. “That means you too.”

“Yeah,” he says. “I got that.”

He threatens Cara, or he tries to threaten Cara. The older of the two pilots. He shoots his companion dead for trying to negotiate. He brings up Alderraan, boasting at its destruction.

“I was on the Death Star,” he says. “My brother pulled the switch.”

Cara spares Din a look through the corner of her vision. “Maybe they were friends,” she says.

“Not the time,” Din mutters.

“Do you have any idea how many millions were killed on those bases?” The pilot asks. “Mothers. Fathers. Sons. Daughters. How many people were there just for a job?”

Funny, the point is less sympathetic when he says it.

“The Rebels slaughtered them with no mercy and the galaxy cheered.”

“Last chance,” Cara says, turning her blaster. “I don’t have time for this.”

He says, “Destroying your planet was a small price to pay to pay to ride the galaxy of terrorism.”

Cara shoots him between the eyes and steps over his body. She grabs Doctor Pershing by the arm, pulling him forward. “Let’s go.”

The room is dark.

No, dark does no justice to adequately describe the state of things.

The room is filled with ink.

There are no lights, no sounds, no breeze coming from ventilation shafts. Everything is off, not a hint of energy, not a spark. There are no wires, no monitors, no trackers. The Force itself ceases to exist.

For a long time, Lumina stays in the ink, unmoving. Hours pass with believing she still sleeps, or worse. Caught in a limbo, trapped in her own consciousness she’s rendered unable to move even muscle.

Feeling returns slow, unnoticed until recognition comes with the familiar pressure of fingertips against her thighs. A cool block against her back. In an instant her eyes flash open, greeted by the complete nothingness. Her nerves reawaken through pumping blood, a small fire throughout her body.

Slow and in desperation, she feels along herself. For each of her limbs, fingers, all still attached. She pinches her tongue, then runs it along her teeth. There are no cuts on her face, no tenderness which indicates bruising. She’s clothed, left in the base of a skintight suit.

She explores the cell in caution, running her hands over every inch she can. The walls are smooth, cold. Seams of panelling are flush, nothing is loose, not a screw out of place. The door is found by its indent in the wall, sealed shut with no forgiveness for movement. 

She knocks, startling herself with the echo.

She knocks again.

Mouth dry, her tongue sticks to the roof. Nothing hurts, not really. She holds tension in her jaw, a light headache but nothing more. 

She can’t remember much of anything, but against all odds she feels refreshed.

What happened?

Her voice is hoarse, crackling. “Hello?”  She coughs. “Hello?”

She can’t exactly call for anyone specific, names evade her at the moment. There’s no guarantee anyone would hear her anyways, let alone come. She slumps back, stepping to what she assumes is the rooms middle.

Very well. 

“This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser,” Bo-Katan says within the Slave I. “In the old days it would carry a crew of several hundred. Now it operates with a tiny fraction fo that.”

“Your assessment is misleading,” Doctor Pershing says.

“Oh great,” Cara snorts. “An objective opinion.”

“This isn’t subterfuge, I assure you. There’s a garrison of dark troopers on board and the Empire’s strongest Inquisitor. She is the one who abducted the Child—”

Something in the air shifts, tangible inside Din.

“What?” He asks.

“What’s an Inquisitor?” Koska asks.

“The strongest Force users left in the galaxy,” Pershing says. “In the case of CF-313, trained from infancy to be high grade assassins.”

“So, murderous Jedi?” Cara asks.

“Jedi killers,” Fennec corrects. 

“A crude definition, but yes,” Pershing says. “313 has taken it upon herself to enact as Grand Inquisitor, their leader. She possesses all the skill and strength of Jedi, only dangerous, violent. Unlike Jedi, she has no moral code preventing her from victory.”

“You’re saying she took the Child?” Din asks.

“Yes.”

“That’s not right,” he mutters. He feels the sensation of a migraine, lingering in the entrance of his mind. He swears under his breath.

Cara asks, “You okay?”

“What do you mean—she didn’t take the kid,” he argues. “She… Lu…”

Bo-Katan says, “Take him up to Fett.”

Cara grabs his arm, he pushes her away. “No, no. What are you talking about?” He asks Pershing. “What does she look like?”

“Mando,” Cara whispers.

He repeats. “What does she look like?”

Pershing shifts, his vision flickers from side to side. “Her physical make up places her height at 180. She is extremely pale, white hair, thin. Overall in excellent health.”

“Who told her to take the Child?”

“Pardon?”

“Someone gave her directives. Who?”

“To my knowledge, Moff Gideon prepared strict instructions to all forces that the Child… and you, remain unharmed. The Empire’s use for the Child is now minimal, his extraction was not necessary. She disobeyed on her own volition. The Moff was not pleased, I can assure you that.”

“Wait,” Cara says. “If you don’t want the kid, why attack?”

“To retrieve the Daughter, of course. It was at the demand of her that the Mandalorian and Child be left alone should Moff Gideon pursue a second bombardment following his failure on Daro. I’ve seen the communication myself, she was quite clear on her threat.”

Din discovers his voice travels without his knowledge. “What did it say?”

“In short,” Pershing says, “Moff Gideon extended an invitation into the Empire and a total pardon. The Daughter declined. She stated should Moff Gideon attack again it be directed at her alone. Harm to you or the Child would result in an attack to his family.”

Cara reacts first, physically at least. Din’s stomach drops and twists. She bumps his arm.

“Who said this?” She asks.

Din answers, breathless. “Lumina.” 

No one else speaks, not until Bo-Katan raises the question. “Where is she now?”

Pershing adjusts the map. “When our final session concluded, she was delivered to this holding cell.”

“Session?” Din asks.

“We hold various appointments throughout the day. Psychoanalysis, medical, physical, etcetera. At the time, we had completed one for her psychology and mutations.”

“Let’s move on,” Bo-Katan says.

Din ignores. “What mutations?”

“She exhibits a variety of genetic anomalies. Strength, intellect, standard organ function.”

“Energy?” 

“Yes,” Pershing says. “Yes precisely. She’s a remarkable piece of bioengineering. I’ve never met anything like her.”

Cara voices Din’s thoughts. “Bioengineering?”

Fennec interrupts. “Your dark troopers,” she says. “They’re droids, right? Where are they bivouacked?”

The map changes. “They’re held in cold storage in this cargo bay,” Pershing says. “They draw too much power to be kept at ready.”

“How long to power up?”

“A few minutes, perhaps.”

Din asks, “Where’s the Child being held?”

“The brig, here. Under armed guard.”

“Is the Inquisitor?” Koska asks.

“Perhaps. More likely the bridge. Wherever Moff Gideon is, she will follow.”

“Very well,” Bo-Katan says. “We go in two parties.”

“I go alone,” Din says.

“Our strength is in numbers.”

He repeats. “I go alone.”

“Fine. Phase one, Lambda shuttle issues a distress call. Two, we emergency land at the mouth of the fighter launch tube, cutting off any potential interceptors. Koska, Fennec, Dune and myself disembark with maximum initiative. Once we’ve neutralized the launch bay, we make our way through these tandem decks in a penetration maneuver. Afterwards, Fennec and I will retrieve Lumina before entering the bridge. There, I will challenge the Moff. If the Inquisitor is an issue, we leave it to Lumina.”

“You’re kidding,” Cara deadpans.

“I wish I were.”

“What about me?” Din asks.

“We’ll be misdirection. Once we draw a crowd, you slip through the shadows, get the kid.”

“What about the dark troopers?” Cara asks.

“Their bay is on the way to the brig.” Bo-Katan looks to Pershing. “Can he make it there before they deploy?”

He nods. “It’s possible.”

“Here. Take his code cylinder and seal off their holding bay. Anyone else, we can handle.”

Din responds, “We’ll meet at the bridge.”

So this is it.

The end—or more accurately, its climax.

The end is yet to come, when it does it will not be mistaken. The end will arrive slow, with agony, lingering words unsaid, and acceptance. This is not that, it is entirely too calm. 

At a vain attempt to track time, Lumina counted three hundred minutes before giving up. No one has come for her. No one has knocked. 

If this is the afterlife, she isn’t impressed. Though, it is fitting for one of her station. Whatever that may be.

Admittedly, the stoic peace is a welcomed wash from the usual chaos filling the day to day. As a part of her training rituals, the Machine would place her in rooms just like this. Completely isolating her from the outside world. In hindsight, he may have meant it as a way to desensitize her to torture, but she always enjoyed it more than she should have. Now is no exception.

Is this the future in which she swore to resent the past? What an odd declaration of intent when taken into consideration that her whole life—every broken fragment of her being, every lie, every name, every mask, every droplet of forced anger, every will she has held for good or evil—has been in reaction and the direct result of the past. 

This has all happened before, in one way or another.

The Machine, the war, the after.

Becoming a waitress, a mercenary, something to be wanted but never kept. Someone recognized but never placed. 

She has never been of herself.

Not really.

Those days, the before, they have no greater reason to be hated than the rest of it all. There’s no point in it. Directed anger towards one but not another. Acceptance of one but not all.

Why waste thought? Why bother when loss is inevitable?

Lumina looks to the ceiling, head tilting. She can’t see anything, true, but lack of proof does not equate to a lack of existence. The first outward sound she heard echos, turning metal. Landing in her hand, round glass. A lightbulb.

Commotion comes from the outside, a siren alarm, boots running across tile, shouting.

Truly, nothing has changed. 

It ends in the absence of peace, as it always has.

She suspects it is night.

Though an argument can be made that night as a concept holds no meaning here. Not in space.

The story has concluded long ago and there is still dark. Ink and tar.

And she resents no one—not for the lack of rivers, forest, mountains, farms. Not for the missing child to hold and call her own. Not for the Mandalorian—not even herself.

She has nothing left.

Finally.

No flowers.

No sun.

No stars. 

Though, somehow, through some conception unknown to all but the Force itself… there is light.

It flickers, just now in the palm of her hand. A faint golden glow. There it is again, quick as lightning.

Just as before.

When it comes a third time, it is violent. The door opens, gears rusted, light from the corridor blinding.

"Get up." She hears. "It's time."

So it is.

According to Din Djarin’s internal display, it's been exactly three minutes and eighteen seconds since Bo-Katan departed into Moff Gideons cruiser.

She instructed him to wait for five.

In the allotted time since, he has removed and replaced his helmet eight times. Once every fifteen seconds. Now, he removes it again.

Nine.

When before he was trapped in a slow moving vessel of spacetime, praying for the days end. Now, he prays for the vessel to stop. Time refuses to wait for him.

He stares at his own reflection in the window with no visible emotion and nothing but turmoil inside. What does he do? What can he do?

Nothing.

The headache grows.

Boba said it should have faded days ago. That she used to do the same to him, its only ever lasted three rotations. He refuses to dive into specifics.

Din isn’t sure it would make a difference anymore.

Hands rub across his face, sighing. He welcomes the fresh air like it were his first experience with it. It might as well be. This is something he cannot become accustomed to. No matter his personal wants. 

Delusions.

Fears.

It’s all the same.

All meant to be locked away.

The time for thought has passed.

His priority is in the Child, as it should have been all along. He must rectify his mistakes. Retrieve the Child, discover his covert, atone for his sins. Disappear. Forget everything. 

Okay, he thinks, okay.

The countdown on his vambrace rings. Five minutes. 

The Mandalorian lowers the beskar over his head until it hisses and clicks.

Ten.

This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force. This has all happened before. It was inevitable. Nothing has changed. It is the will of the Force.

There is a reason attachments are forbidden.

It is the repetition of poetry.

Chapter Thirty-Five: Apocalypse

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

[hunnythebee]

Stow Away Preview Day!!

Chapter 11: Finally Free

New chapter tomorrow at 5pm PST

Jo finally wakes up after a week long period of sedation. The bacta has healed her almost completely of her wounds and she is able to finally take in everything. Friends, new and old, the rekindling of an old flame, and a surprising new development guarantee that even though Jo has her freedom, that her adventure is not over yet.

[djarins-cyare]

Never Look Down

✮ MINISERIES MASTERLIST ✮

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

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

Pairing: Din Djarin x Original Female Character (part 1 - his POV) / Din Djarin x Reader (part 2 - her POV)

Word Count: 13,160

PART 1 - DIN’S EVENING

PART 2 - MAIA’S (YOUR) MORNING

➤ MAIN MASTERLIST

[the-mandawhor1an]

The future

Chapter 10 – Guided by the stars, connected by the force

Masterlist

⇐ Previous chapter | Next chapter ⇒

Chapter summary: Din and his allies infiltrate Gideon’s cruiser to rescue Grogu. When all seems lost and their lives in danger, two ships approach. Is this the reunion Din is hoping for, or just the Jedi Grogu had called out for?  

Warnings: Canon-typical violence; Gideon is a dick as usual; angst angst angst; the helmet comes off; Jedi ex machina;  FUCKING KISS ALREADY!!!!; Bo-Katan hits us with the lore; jealousy; fluff; the return of the bathtub; only one bed; 

Words: 12.2k (I’m sorry I can’t stop yapping)

A/N: Alternating POVs in this chapter, peeps! I’ve ultimately decided against doing one block of just Din and then jumping back in time to show where Maia has been, having POVs change like cameras would in the series makes more sense (also could be my roleplaying background playing a huge part in this). The bathtub scene never happened in the roleplay, if anyone is interested I can yap about this more on Maia mondays. I hate dialogues, y’all. 

With the help of Dr. Pershing’s shuttle, making it onto the cruiser wasn’t too hard. While his allies made it up to the bridge to cause a distraction, Din took a different route towards the brig to save his foundling. There was little intervention by Stormtroopers. The Darktroopers, however, made Djarin worry. As Pershing had just let them know, the newest iteration were no longer humans. It was droids. As if it wasn’t stressful enough to infiltrate an Imperial cruiser with only 5 people, Din would have to face droids. 

On his way towards the holding cell, Din just happened to stumble upon the bay where the Darktroopers were stored. To his luck, it seemed he had just made it around the corner when they had finished charging and made their way towards the hallway. »Osik,« he cursed and practically threw himself against the door controls, shutting the doors before all of them could make it into the hallway. The closest droid to the front had just enough time to react to hold the door ajar and slipped out, leaving all of the other machines locked behind the heavy doors. In an instant, the Mandalorian was on edge. They would break the doors and if he didn’t manage do decommission the one currently opposite of him, he’d be broken too. 

Upon first contact, Din was thrown across the hallway, sliding along the reflective floor like he had weighed nothing. Thank the stars for the padding under his armor which softened the blow at least a little. Pulling the blaster out, he took a few shots at the droid, desperate to find a weak spot, but being unsuccessful. Every shot just ricocheted until his enemy was just opposite of him. It grabbed Din’s arm and twisted it, forcing him to let go of his blaster. The droid’s other hand grabbed the human by the throat and lifted him up, pressed him into the wall behind him. It rammed its fist into the Beskar helmet again and again, right in the center of the visor, slowly denting the metal wall further and further with the force of the impact. The bang of metal on metal was unbearably loud in Din’s ears, the vibrations causing a headache. Perhaps he would come out of this with yet another concussion. 

Despite the noise and lack of oxygen he had to escape the Trooper’s death grip, one way or another. Behind his opponent he saw the other droids working to break the doors in, the small transpari windows already cracking. He had to be quick. He aimed his flame thrower into the droid’s midsection, hoping to melt some key component to destroy it, but to no avail. What came to his rescue, however, was said droid flinging him through the air once more, which allowed Djarin to catch his breath and attempt to open the air lock. Before he could pull the lever, however, he was pulled away again. The Trooper decided it would now use its blaster against Din, who had no choice but to activate the whistling birds. It felt like a waste of this weapon, and it probably was, but he needed the time to whip the spear out from behind him. 

He rammed the Beskar weapon into the droid, just beneath the head, and let out a relieved breath when he saw the glowing read eyes flicker and turn off. Just before the doors’ integrity was too compromised, Din opened the air lock and saw all of the other droids get sucked into space. He took a few steadying breaths before he continued onward. After this confrontation, there was no more playing nice for him. 

This came rather unfortunate for the two Stormtroopers that stood between him and his child. Their deaths were considerably quick, but brutal nonetheless. All Din wanted was to grab Grogu and get out of here. The rescue looked to be over when he reached the controls to open Grogu’s cell door, but when they opened, he found none other than Gideon with Grogu. He was holding a strange blade in his hands, black but at the same time glowing. The closest weapon he could have compared to it was a lightsaber, but then again, it didn’t look like the one he had seen Maia use. Maia… if only she had been here with him now. But then again, would she not be in danger, so close to Imperials? 

»Drop your blaster, slowly,« Gideon ordered, and Din didn’t hesitate to do as he was told. »Kick it over to me.« The blaster hit the wall somewhere behind Gideon. Djarin wanted to make his reasons clear, so he said »give me the kid.« The Moff didn’t budge, waving the blade above the child’s head. »He is fine where he is.« He waved the blade a little more, the low hum the blade made sounded somewhat like a lightsaber. »Mesmerizing, isn’t it? It used to belong to Bo-Katan.« Go figure. So this was the blade she had mentioned back on Trask. The darksaber. 

»I know you’ve been traveling with her. A friendly piece of advice, assume that I know everything. Like the fact that your little wrist launcher fired its only salvo. Or that – to my disappointment – Maia is no longer traveling with you.« Din’s heart sank. It wasn’t so much that Gideon mentioned Maia, it was more that he was disappointed. That only confirmed for Djarin that the Imperial had some kind of plan for her. Maybe the experiments they had witnessed on Nevarro. »Where is this going?« he rather asked the Imperial. 

»I’m guessing that Bo-Katan and her party have arrived at the bridge and are looking for me, or more specifically, this saber. And, in their frustration to not find me, have killed everyone on the bridge, like the murderous savages you are,« he responded. He was probably right. Din didn’t react to it much, he focused on the child. Grogu was surprisingly calm, given the situation, but the child was most likely exhausted. Who could blame him. »And now they’re beginning to panic. All Bo-Katan is here for… is this.« Gideon held up the saber. »Do you know why?« He didn’t even wait for an answer. »Because it brings power. Whoever wields this sword has the right to lay claim to the Mandalorian throne.« Din didn’t care much for power or a throne, but it made sense why Kryze was so adamant about getting it back. »Keep the blade, I just want the kid.« 

And for the first time, Gideon was surprised. Perhaps he had thought he could get Djarin with the outlook of power and a title. He had miscalculated. The pause was long and a little awkward, but ultimately, he deactivated the blade. »Very well. I already have what I want from him. His blood. And because the other donor I had in mind has decided to … not stay with you after her little interjection on Nevarro, there’s no more blood we can study.« Din really tried his hardest to not let any kind of emotion slip. Gideon didn’t need to know that he would absolutely kill him if he ever laid hand on Maia. »This child is extremely gifted and has been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring back order into the galaxy.« Sure, like they had tried with the mothers and ultimately failed. Gideon looked over to Grogu, then back to Djarin. »I see your bond with him. Take him, but you will leave my ship immediately and we go our separate ways.« 

Din went to grab Grogu, but of course Gideon had to ambush him. A fight broke out, ending with Gideon on the ground and Djarin deciding he would spare the Imperial’s life. The Moff would get a trial, probably an execution at the hands of the New Republic. 

Gideon’s plan suddenly revealed itself when they had made it up to the bridge. Din had the saber in one hand, Grogu on the other arm, when he guided his captive towards the others. Suddenly it made sense why Gideon was so surprised by him declining the to take the blade. He wanted Kryze to turn against Djarin, who was now the rightful owner of the darksaber anyway. Of course, Din tried to surrender the blade to Kryze straight away, but she snapped at him. She would have to win it in a fight, otherwise her claim to the throne was illegitimate. 

They could and probably would have bickered further, hadn’t it been for the radar to alert them about approaching vehicles. Said vehicles turned out to be the Darktroopers Din had already forgotten about at this point. Of course they would return in the most unfortunate moment: When it looked like they had won. 

Din had struggled immensely fighting one, now they would have to deal with multiple. Neither blasters nor his other weapons had done much harm, only the spear had really helped. And they only had one, maybe two weapons to damage the droids; if the saber could actually cut through anything as Kryze had said. He had to think about something quickly. About 10 were marching towards the bridge, while others spread across the way to the hangar just in case the group made it out the bridge alive. He looked over to Grogu. All of this could’ve been prevented had Maia stayed. But then again, they had mutually agreed to split, as to not risk his creed, which he had broken either way at this point, and for her to gain control over her emotions. As much as he hated himself for the thought, he wished she was here with them, a last line of protection for Grogu. Could she maybe hold out for a little longer than the others would? She hadn’t been scared of the dragon either. Would a lightsaber help with the droids? Probably. 

And with every bang of the droids’ fists against the heavy metal blast doors, with every creak the steel made under the impact, slowly bending until it would ultimately burst, Din’s heart sank a little deeper, until the realization had settled in properly. 

Maia had abandoned him despite her promise to be there for him and Grogu. They would die at the hands of droids. And his foundling might survive, but would have to witness his protector be killed, just like Din had witnessed his parents die. 

If only Din had the same intuition a Jedi had. He would have known that Maia would keep her promise.

»I can sense the tension in your body. You’re nervous,« Luke said over the radio, causing Maia to roll her eyes. »Thanks for mentioning it. Putting attention to it isn’t helping. I can feel Grogu and it’s agitating me. He’s scared.« Ever since Grogu had channeled himself in an old Jedi monument, Luke had been able to sense him and now they were so close, she could too feel what was going on in the child. 

»I can feel it too. It won’t be long until we’re there,« Skywalker tried to soothe her. It wasn’t helping too much. Grogu was one of her concerns, the other she didn’t want to talk about. Din would be there and she wasn’t sure what to expect when they met again. It had been some time since they had separated. While it felt like it had been forever, it was a couple of weeks at most. If even that. The moon she had been on with Luke had shorter days, she imagined, and she had never bothered to count how many sunsets she had witnessed there. How long had it been for Din? Did it feel like less when he was in space most of the time and he had no natural day-night cycle? 

Back on the bridge, the radar alarmed them of approaching vehicles once again. Two spots came closer and Bo-Katan looked at the screen. »Two life forms, an X-Wing and an ARC-170.« Cara Dune sighed »oh great, we’re saved.« »Incoming crafts, identify yourselves,« Bo ordered via the radio, only to be ignored. Din looked to Bo-Katan, then towards the ships they could see fly past the bridge. Could this be their salvation? The helmet turned to Grogu, who was a little more alert now, looking over to his protector and his ears twitching. 

As the ships landed in the hangar, the banging on the doors stopped. It was as if the whole bridge was holding a collective breath before Fennec finally broke the silence. »Why did they stop?« Did it matter? Din looked over to one of the security monitors. All of the Darktroopers had in fact stopped in their movements, not only the ones right behind the blast doors. They all turned at the same time, now all of them facing the hangar. The group closest to the strangers started walking, a different camera showing the cloaked figures exiting their ships and walking towards the main exit. 

The sight of lightsaber blades was familiar to Bo, so it was no wonder she immediately said in disbelief »those are Jedi?« Din’s helmet snapped around towards Kryze, not sure he had actually heard right. Jedi? Was it Maia after all, coming to save him and Grogu in the last second? 

Maia walked next to Luke, one saber in each hand. »We’ll find out if the training was worth it now, huh?« Luke chuckled. »These are droids, I’m a little insulted if you struggle with them after training with me.« She shook her head in amusement despite him being right. A droid shouldn’t be too much trouble, unless one decided to blow up in her face again. »I will look for a terminal,« she announced when they entered the first hallway. »I need to check my file.« 

»Are you sure you need to find out about your past? There will be no gain from it, all it will do is cause pain.« Luke wanted to shoot her a look, but the blaster fire called for their attention. The droids weren’t too much of a problem for them, equipped with sabers that easily cut through these machines and the ability to throw them if they came too close. »Nothing,« Maia responded, throwing the scrap she had turned one of the troopers into through the hallway. »Nothing in my file could be more painful than what the Empire had made me go through.« »I can’t tell you what to do and I won’t try,« Luke reminded her, swinging his saber with an ease that was astounding. »You should focus on the future, your past can’t be changed.« But if she couldn’t change the past either way, why would it change anything about the present to know? »I’ll think about it.«

Din walked over to Bo-Katan, who still had the two Jedi on the monitor. They made fighting these machines so easy, cutting through them like it was nothing. He could neither make out the blade colors, nor any features on the strangers. They were almost the same height, not necessarily tall compared to the Troopers they were fighting. Deep down he wished for one of their hoods to just fall back so he could see if one of them was in fact Maia. He so desperately wanted her to be here. None of the fighting styles looked like what he had seen Maia use. The stranger with one blade used stronger swings. 

One of the two steered away from the path towards the bridge. Why would they separate? Then again, it looked like the Troopers had no chance against them, maybe one was here for a different reason than Grogu. Gideon must’ve realized the droids’ inferiority to the Jedi at the same time. Taking out the blaster he had hidden away underneath his cloak, he took a few shots at Bo-Katan. Of course, her armor deflected the shots and she remained unharmed. As if Din could sense what he would do next, he leapt towards Grogu simultaneously as Gideon aimed at the child. The child was fine. 

Seeing both of his plans fail, Gideon turned the blaster upright underneath his chin, only for Cara to hit not only the blaster out of his hands, she landed another blow to his face to make sure he behaved. He wouldn’t get the easy way out. She sat him down on the steps again. Din’s ribs were pulsating with pain from just throwing himself on the ground, but it was fine as Grogu was okay. The small child had climbed up one of the tables and had his hand on the monitor, showing one of the Jedi coming towards the bridge. Just as the stranger had entered the elevator, they saw the droids in front of the blast doors grab their blasters. 

Maia wanted nothing more than to just run up to the bridge and jump into Din’s strong arms. She wanted to cover the helmet in kisses, but then again, she was nervous. Scared to face him again after he had – quite cruelly – sent her away last time. Perhaps looking for her file was a distraction, a detour she took to have some time to think about this. Luke was likely right about her past, but then again, the three days with Din had impacted her in a way. If there was a family still out there looking for her, she needed to know. She would have to find them. Looking for a terminal wasn’t too hard, and she went to work. 

Up at the bridge, it didn’t take long for all of the Troopers to be turned into expensive scrap. It was a little impressive and intimidating at the same time, seeing someone deal with almost a dozen of these at the same time while Din had struggled with just one. Especially when Din saw them squeeze the last droid into a brick with the force, he was certain that person was a Jedi, a strong one at that. 

Grogu extended his hands towards the door and looked over to Din. The helmet dipped to face the child, and he picked the little one up. There were no words needed, the child’s reaction to the stranger told the Mandalorian enough. »Open the doors,« he ordered, but no one moved. »I said open the doors.« Fennec was the first to regain her voice. »Are you crazy?« With a sigh he sat the child down again, opening the doors himself. 

The mist of escaping hydraulic fluids and dust engulfed the stranger, their light saber coloring the clouds around them bright green. They were not particularly tall, but their presence was imposing, just like Tano’s had been. The blade of the light saber retracted into the hilt and they clipped the metal to their belt. They pulled down their hood to reveal a fairly young looking man with dirty blonde hair and friendly blue eyes. Contrary to what they had just seen him do, he looked harmless. »Are you a Jedi?« Din asked, to which the stranger nodded. »I am.« 

The stranger extended his arm, offering a hand to Grogu, who just shyly looked in between the Jedi and his protector. The child cooed and looked to Din, let his ears drop a bit. »He doesn’t want to go with you,« Din translated. Maybe he didn’t want Grogu to go, either. Letting the child go would mean he’d be all alone again. He’s gotten so used to being around someone, would it be worse now, with both of his Jedi companions gone? 

»He wants your permission,« the man opposite of him explained. »He is strong with the force, but talent without training is nothing. It is dangerous.« »I understand,« he replied. It was the same with Maia, all over again. 

Maia lifted her head from the terminal as if she had heard her name despite being alone in the room. She listened for any sound, her eyes darting around the room. Nothing. It was no use to stay here anyway, the whole database had been wiped and she was not equipped to restore deleted files. Closing her eyes, she felt for Grogu and Din up there. The pain that radiated off of the Mandalorian was intense. 

The green eyes shot back at the screen. Why did it matter? Her past was nothing more than a few 1s and 0s at this point, the family she had 25 years ago most likely dead anyway. Her future might be up there on the bridge, broken-hearted and alone. »Let go,« she reminded herself and she left the room, walking towards the elevator that would lead her to Luke, to Grogu, and hopefully, back to Din. 

»I will give my life to protect the child, but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities,« their savior continued up there, and the Mandalorian had to remind himself once again, that this was necessary. Grogu needed to learn how to handle his abilities, how to deal with his emotions, even if that meant that his protector would feel abandoned. Din picked up the child to speak to him, say farewell. Grogu fussed and kept reaching for the air towards the hallway behind the other man. Not understanding what the child wanted to tell him, Din turned him around so the big, brown eyes looked at him. »I’ll see you again, I promise,« he told the little one, gathering all of his strength to not break down. He had to be strong now. 

Grogu just stared at him, reached his tiny hand forward and touched the helmet. Din would lose him too. First Maia, then his ship and his home, now his son. They would all leave him. He understood what the child was hinting at. He removed the helmet, slowly and carefully as he just had one hand to maneuver the metal off of his head, but it felt right. It didn’t matter now after all, he had already broken his creed back on Morak. 

What harm would it do for the child to see him before they said farewell?

Grogu stared at his protector and extended his hand once more, touching Din’s cheek and then resting his tiny hand on his jaw. Din closed his eyes, trying to memorize the feeling. Whether the child had intended it or not, it was the same spot that Maia had touched when she and Din kissed, and for a moment, it was like she was here with them. 

»Alright pal,« Din finally said, having to tear himself out of this moment before he told the Jedi to get lost and rather take Ahsoka’s advice. »Don’t be afraid,« he said softer, his voice cracking because he heard a little sniffle from Grogu. He sat the helmet and his foundling down, watching as he waddled over to the Jedi and the astromech next to him. The droid seemed awfully delighted to see the small, green child, chirping and wobbling on the spot. It just so happened that at the same time the elevator in the background dinged, but Din was too distracted, exchanging a look with the human, who then leaned over to pick Grogu up. 

And just when he thought he would be alone, he saw a familiar face in the hallway. 

Maia was so focused on Luke picking up Grogu that she didn’t even register the other people on the bridge at first. There was a man opposite of her master with short, dark brown hair and a pained expression on his face. She didn’t recognize him, maybe he was just a companion. The silver armor he was wearing didn’t even register in her mind, all she was focused on was his face and the tell-tale sting she suddenly felt when the brown eyes darted over to her. It was as if electricity shot through her when the dots connected. She froze, her eyes immediately glossing over with tears. »Din?« she asked, fully aware it had to be him, the armor and the sensation in the back of her neck giving her the confirmation she needed. »You took your helmet off,« was all she could say. 

»I did. For him, and for you.« As soon as she saw him take a step towards her, she ran over to him and practically crashed into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. Finding it a little hard with the jetpack and the spear on his back, she rested one hand just below the jetpack, the other on the back of his head. If she had more time she woul have removed her gloves to feel his hair, but this happened so suddenly. 

Din buried his face in the crook of her neck, looking for evidence she was really here and this wasn’t some cruel illusion. Her much shorter hair brushed over his face and he could make out the familiar scent on her, providing enough confirmation that she was back to soothe his broken heart. »You’re here,« he whispered against her skin and pulled her closer, almost lifting her off of the ground. This was a lot to handle at once. 

Sadness, grief, but also the faint shimmer of hope that had kept him going, and love. Din wouldn’t be alone after having grown so used to being around others. It also gave him hope that he would see Grogu again some day, that he would come back to him, just as Maia did. She had her face halfway in his hair as well, her eyes pressed shut otherwise she would start crying. »I told you I’d be there if you needed me,« she reminded him, a single chuckle escaping. 

Their heads separated from each other and moved back just enough so they could look into each others eyes properly. His were red and irritated, glassy and so were hers, welling with tears but none yet rolling down her face. Safe to say they both were happy to see the other, and they didn’t care if anyone saw. Din knew his allies would know to let them have their moment, and Luke was too fascinated by the two interacting, knowing that Maia and the Mandalorian shared a bond only few could relate to. 

It was Skywalker who called for Din’s attention, feeling his job done here. »I’ll keep my promise,« he assured Din, watching as Maia unraveled her arms from the other man to stand to his left. »Grogu will be safe with me.« He nodded towards Din, then turned his attention to the brunette. »Remember what you’ve learned,« he reminded her one last time. Her head tilted to the side, leaning against Din’s pauldron and her eyes sparkled when she replied »I won’t forget it. May the force be with you, and with you, Grogu.« She extended her hand, offering Grogu a finger to hold onto for a moment to say goodbye. She knew the child would be safe with her master. He had cared for her so well, she had no doubts Grogu would do well with him, given the child was willing to learn. 

Grogu practically hung over Luke's shoulder when they walked over to the elevator, waving at his protector and friend. Perhaps he wasn’t waving and rather reaching for them, but both adults knew this was the best way for the child to get adequate care. 

This moment could have been so bittersweet, so wholesome and tragic at the same time; if it hadn’t been for Gideon to ruin it by opening his mouth. »Oh, isn’t it lovely,« he swooned, but his voice dripping with disgust. »One foundling leaves… and another returns.« Maia rolled her eyes and turned to find the Moff on the ground, where he belonged. His bloodied nose told her that this wasn’t his first uncalled for comment. Din took hold of her hand, causing her to wonder if he wanted to stop her of if he just wanted to be close. Their hug could’ve been longer, she agreed. 

»You deleted my file,« she accused the Imperial, confused why he would refer to her as a foundling. Din and her were obviously closer, and she was a little too old to be adopted, right? »I did, with great pleasure, actually,« Gideon replied, returning her intense gaze. »I was a little disappointed you didn’t arrive with your Mandalorian friend here, but as it would turn out, you are as predictable as I had thought and would show up either way. I just wanted to have the opportunity to tell you that you won’t ever find your parents.« 

Suddenly, Din holding her hand was very welcome, because she could squeeze his hand and he could return the gesture, reminding her what was actually important right now. »Then speak,« she ordered, causing the Man opposite of her to grin. »You’ll never find them.« She raised an eyebrow, did he even have information? »Tell me something new.« »Your parents must be dead, either of natural causes or killed, by the Mandalorian we neutralized to get to you.« His words didn’t even register properly before she felt her heart stop. What? 

»Oh, I’m sure it’s tragic to hear,« he continued, reading the confusion in her face with ease. »He died fighting if that is any soothing to you. Who knows how long you had been with him before we found you.« There was only one conclusion for her, Gideon was trying to agitate her, antagonize her until she lost control again. He was lying. Mentioning a tragic death of her parents at the hands of a Mandalorian while three of them were in the room with her made sense. As much as she hated to give it to him, Gideon was a smart man, but she had changed. 

»Maia,« Din softly spoke to her and squeezed her hand, he felt her fingers tremble. She turned to him, her eyes were a little less friendly this time. It was obvious it was affecting her and even if Djarin wasn’t too concerned about her losing control this time, he wanted to ground her. Did Din know? She thought about it for just a second. »He’s not lying, is he?« she asked and he felt his own chest tense. 

Did he want to just tell her? Did she even want to know? »I saw your file. I found it on a terminal in an Imperial base. It got destroyed with my ship, I wish I still had it.« It sounded like a confirmation, even if Din was reluctant to actually say it. It made sense, in a way. Despite having a rather traumatic experience with Fett she felt safe in Din’s presence, but it could’ve been because of their bond. The sound of Mando’a was familiar to her, even if she had little inclination what the words meant. It would explain why she felt all warm and fuzzy when he called her mesh’la. 

“Oh how noble, a Mandalorian willing to risk his life, wasting time in an Imperial base just to find a little intel on his friend. Removing his helmet for a child he will never see again. Does it feel good? Do you feel special?« Gideon practically spit and Maia wondered why he was still allowed to breathe. »Tell me, 414, do you actually believe you’ll have a future with him?« That stung. She thought she did, she knew it. It was easy to guess the soft spot she had for the Mandalorian, given everyone present had seen how they ran into each other’s arms. Worst of all was referring to her by her ID, something Gideon did on purpose. 

»Jedi, Sith, what does it matter. You could have been so powerful thanks to us. What would that Mandalorian have done with your talent? There were no Jedi left after Order 66 that could have taught you. See what we had made you do, turn a whole research complex to nothing more than dust with one wrathful outburst.« Would he ever shut up? »Has he seen what you can do? Does he know how many died because of you when you were still a teenager? How their pleas fell on deaf ears in your blinding rage and no one survived?« Gideon’s lips formed a devilish grin. He wanted the others to be wary of her, scared and avoid her. Part of Maia struggled to keep her composure, the sound of bending and creaking metal roared through the ship, widening Gideon’s grin even more. »I take that as a no, but why would you care, huh? What are a few humans to you?«  

»Don’t listen to him, he wants to provoke you,« Din suspected, still holding onto her hand. Was he scared of her? Gideon scoffed »of course I want to provoke her.« Finally, one of the women offered to silence Gideon, her threat did not deter him from speaking, though. »Do you realize how pathetic you all are? A failed science experiment, a Mandalorian that breaks his codex for a child and a girl,« he looked over to the other women. »Heiress to the throne of a destroyed world, and the only item to strengthen her claim is in the hands of a friend; and her sidekick. An assassin working for the traitor Fett, and don’t even get me started on you, Dune.« It was a lot to take in at once, but the name Fett rang a bell. Boba Fett? 

With a sigh Maia finally let go of Din’s hand, walking over to kneel beside Gideon. »Maybe we are a pathetic bunch and you might think you’re superior to us,« she addressed him, placing a hand on his chest armor and pushing down, leaning in to push him into the steps beneath him. Part of her wanted to just off him, but he didn’t deserve to be let go so easily. »At the end of the day, you are the one in cuffs right now. I won’t be your instrument, nor am I the monster you want the others to see in me.« Finally, Dune took Gideon and left with him. The Imperial would be on trial with the New Republic and would get what he deserved. A nice long prison sentence, hopefully. 

The tension left Maia as soon as the elevator doors had closed and she could finally face Din again, who still had his helmet off. As much as she didn’t want to be stuck staring at him, she couldn’t help it, there was so much to take in. »What did my file say?« she asked him. »Do you want to know now?« They could talk about it when they were on their own, but Maia couldn’t wait. And as she would soon find out, she did good to want to hear it now. »They stumbled upon you during a patrol. You were about 4 years old and clearly showed signs of force sensitivity. You were with a Mandalorian at the time, they neutralized him.« »Neutralized. What a nice way to phrase killing yet another father of mine.« »I’m sorry,« Din touched her arm, trying to soothe her, but more gestures from him and she would start crying. »It’s okay. I have closure. We should leave.« She didn’t have to ask him twice, it had been quite a lot for one day for the both of them. Din grabbed his helmet, but before they could walk through the blast doors, the red-haired Mandalorian addressed her. »Maia, is it?« »Yes?« »I might know something about your family,« she explained. »You mean the Mandalorian that found me?« She shook her head. »Does the name Rayssa ring a bell?« Rayssa? The brunette furrowed her brows, it felt familiar, but it was a name. She could’ve heard it anywhere. »It might.« »I figured, you look just like her.« »I don’t understand,« Maia mumbled, and yet she somehow did, judging by how her throat became tight. »I’ve met a Mandalorian once who had lost both husband and daughter. Right around the time the Empire must’ve taken you in.« Now Din also turned around to speak to the other woman. »Are you sure?« he asked. They exchanged a look and she nodded. »I am, the similarity struck me as soon as Maia appeared here. I wouldn’t have mentioned it if it hadn’t been for Gideon.« 

»Wait, I’m Mandalorian?« Maia found it hard to believe, as much sense as it made. »You are and both of your parents were. Your name is Arana Vizsla, you were born on Mandalore to one of the oldest houses our kind has. One of your ancestors, Tarre Vizsla, was both a Jedi and a Mandalorian too. He forged the darksaber.« Eyes shot over to Din with the last sentence and he looked down to the saber hilt. »Then she should have it,« he responded after a moment, motioning to grab the hilt, but Kryze stopped him. »Di’kut! She would have to win it in combat, I’ve told you. Until someone defeats you, the saber is yours.« Maia didn’t understand anything, neither who Tarre Vizsla was, nor why Din suddenly had a weapon that looked and sounded like it was a lightsaber. And was that a Beskar spear on his back? And she was certain that there was another Mando’a word in there, and she would have to ask him what it meant. 

It was a little too much at once and she looked over to him, brows downturned and eyes big. »Can we please leave?« How was he still holding up so well, had they not been through a lot too? All she wanted was some time to process all of what just transpired as well as finally having him all to herself. There was a lot for them to talk about after the realization had finally settled in that they were reunited. »Let’s go,« he nodded towards the elevator. With a nod towards Kryze and Shand, he had said goodbye and walked alongside Maia towards the elevator. This must’ve been a lot for her to deal with, but he was happy she was back with him. It looked like she would stay this time. 

As soon as the elevator doors had closed and the lift set in motion, Maia pressed the e-brake and turned around to fall against Din’s chest again. He pulled one arm around her and pulled her in, buried his face in her hair once more. »I missed you,« he quietly confessed. He wasn’t sure how uncomfortable it was to hug him with the armor on, but she didn’t complain about any pain. She buried her face in his cape and sniffled, making him pull her even closer. »I’m sorry,« she mumbled into the fabric, barely audible if he hadn’t been so close to her. »It’s okay,« he reassured her. »You’re here now, that’s what matters. It’s a lot for you to take in right now, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about your dad at a better time, when we were on our own.« He felt her head move in a soft shake no. She leaned back to uncover her face to look at him. Her eyes were a little red now, making the green of her irises seem even brighter. Yes, this definitely was his favorite color. 

Maia freed one of her hands from its glove and cupped his cheek, stroking him with her thumb. The stubble of his beard felt rougher than on Tatooine, had he shaved just recently? »I’m exhausted but I’m fine. Aren’t you tired?« There he was and she took him in. He was handsome, more so than she had thought. Not that it mattered much as her feelings had been there before she knew his face. »It’s a little weird to suddenly see a face with the voice. I’m sorry if my staring is a little uncomfortable,« she explained. »Does it feel weird now that there’s no metal between us?«

His eyes were dark, much darker than she could have imagined even if he had told her. They were beautiful, mesmerizing. Like an endless ocean, dark and mysterious. »It is,« he confirmed with a soft nod. »No one has seen my face since I took my creed and suddenly there’s so many. Today, and also back on Morak where I had to remove my helmet in front of a whole room of Imperials. But it was worth it. Grogu is safe.« She felt for him and rose to her tiptoes to place a kiss on his cheek. He closed his eyes, his head twitching sideways ever so slightly. »If it felt right to take the helmet off, it probably was. Grogu might not understand what you’re sacrificing, and I might not understand fully myself, but it means a lot to me. One could even say you’re quite pretty underneath that bucket,« Maia told him with a soft smile on her lips. He smiled too, but there was still a bit of pain in his eyes. 

»You think I’m ‘pretty’?« »In a masculine way. Your smile is infectious.« They just stayed like this for a few seconds, looking at each other, faces so dangerously close. Maia really wanted to kiss him again, but she felt this wasn’t the right moment. Din was just as overwhelmed as she was, processing Grogu was now gone and possibly grieving. She would stay. They would find another time to kiss if he wanted to. She grazed the skin on his cheek one last time before she took her hand back, letting go of him entirely. »I assume the ARC is yours and you have a spot for me? We could also take one of the lambdas,« Din inquired. It was justified, she thought, Luke’s X-Wing couldn’t accommodate another adult. »It’s not the Razor Crest but I can take a copilot in. Do you have an idea where to go?« She loosened the brake on the elevator and they descended. 

»I lost everything when my ship was destroyed.« Din didn’t have to tell her again, she remembered when he reached out for her. His voice had sounded so broken. »We should get some money, I don’t carry that much with me. Maybe I have to take on some bounties for the time being.« »We might find you another ship, but you’re right, we’ll need money.« Bounty hunting? Would he be able to take her with him, or would she have to stay behind because it was safer? »You can be the pilot for now,« she let him know, stepping out when the elevator reached the level that would take them back to the hangar. »I don’t want to just take over your ship,« he said, but it really was no big deal. »Don’t worry. You know where to go, it just makes sense that you fly there. You’re probably the better pilot anyway. I’m … just okay.«  She walked beside him, taking the opportunity to take his profile in. Din seemed to be in thought, but he felt her eyes on him. »There is a space port I want to travel to next. Some of the Mandalorians, the covert that once was on Nevarro, might be there. The port is called Glavis, it’s a gigantic ring structure.« Maia nodded. Sounded like a good lead, and now that he had mentioned his covert, she had an idea. »Might they know my family?« 

It was possible, she wasn’t the first Vizsla Djarin had met. There was one in the covert, Paz. Perhaps he was related to her. »If anyone knows, it would be the armorer. House Vizsla is big, though.« He didn’t want to put her hopes up. If Kryze knew her mother, he had the suspicion that Rayssa had not been a child of the Watch. »You take the news relatively well,« he added. Maia shrugged »It is weird to suddenly just … be one of them. It explains why it feels so familiar to me, though, and maybe why I was so opposed to the Jedi codex from the beginning. Maybe I remembered my family deep down. It’s hard to accept, don’t get me wrong, I think I just have to let the news settle.« »It will take some time.« ��Will you take me on your hunting trips? If it’s safe?« Din hesitated. »It’s hard to say when it’s safe. It can change within a second, sometimes I have to be spontaneous.«

They walked past the Darktroopers, which were nothing more than piles of scrap now. Din had struggled so much with one, he was so lucky Maia and her master had arrived just in the right moment to save them all.  »You mean like you had to be with the dragon?« A sly grin crept up to her lips and he jokingly rolled his eyes. »I doubt there will be dragons.« They finally reached the hangar and it was time for him to put the helmet back on. There he was again, just how she had known him. Still, it was a little sad she could no longer look at his pretty face. »Last chance: Is it okay I’m flying?« His modulated voice was so much rougher than his unfiltered voice was. The tone didn’t change much, but it lost a lot of its warmth. »Unless you steal the ship and abandon me it should be fine.« He chuckled and shook his head. »I won’t, don’t worry.« 

They boarded the ship, Maia struggling to climb up the ship until she ultimately just jumped up there. As soon as the cockpits were closed, she opened up the radio channel so she could talk to the pilot. »How long will it take us to get to Glavis?« Din flipped a bunch of switches, starting up the engine. »A few hours. You can rest if you want to.« »I don’t think I can,« she sighed. »I could really use a shower and something to eat, maybe I can find some rest afterwards.« She really wanted a warm shower. Hot water on her skin and a perfect little occasion to just let all of the tears out she was holding back right now. While Din agreed they needed to rest, they would have to see how far his credits could take them. »One after the other. We’ll get some food and then find somewhere to stay. Deal?« »Deal.« 

It had gotten quiet back there, and Din asked after a few minutes of silence »Maia?« »Mh?« she sounded exhausted. If only he could’ve hugged her again. »Do you want me to let you sleep?« »I don’t think I can. My thoughts keep racing.« »Do you want to talk?« »About my thoughts?« 

He smiled underneath the helmet and leaned back. »About anything you want. I’ve missed your voice.« 

»I can tell you what I’ve been up to ever since we split.« »For example. I take it that the voice you had been talking about ended up being that Jedi?« He almost referred to him as ‘that guy’. He hadn’t put any thought into it earlier, but he was a little anxious knowing Maia had stayed with him for all this time. He must’ve been around her age too, and a Jedi, just like her. 

»Luke felt a disturbance in the force because of me and offered to help. I guess you could say I found the Jedi before you did.« Din chuckled. »You could put it that way.« So, Luke was his name. Not Master, not his last name. Luke. »He took me in and trained me. It was all we did while you and Grogu were out in the galaxy, probably experiencing one adventure after the other.« Oh how right she was, but most of these adventures had been anything but exciting. »Grogu and I have been through a lot,« he confirmed, his voice a little heavy with grief. The little troublemaker was gone. With Luke, who had spent a lot of time with Maia before taking his foundling in. 

Maia bit her lip, sensing she had struck a nerve when mentioning the child. It was a fresh wound, she didn’t want to keep reminding Din. But there were some things she wondered. »How did you even find the seeing stone? We could feel Grogu so clearly and from what I’ve been told, these old monuments aren’t on any map« »I found a Jedi. Ahsoka Tano.« Did the name ring a bell with Maia? »I helped her free a village and in return she told me about the stone.« 

So he had met a Jedi. Of course Maia had no idea who this woman was, but it didn’t matter now. But if she was a Jedi, »why wouldn’t she take him in herself?« Din sighed. Maybe Maia should change the topic. On the other hand, maybe it helped him to talk to her about this. She knew what Grogu would deal with now. If there was anyone that could help Din soothe his guilt, it was her. 

»She refused,« he explained. »It sounded personal. She said his attachment to me was too dangerous. Her recommendation was to just let his abilities fade and train him like I would a foundling. But I felt like that wasn’t right.« There was a bit of silence from the other end. »I didn’t even know we could lose our abilities,« Maia mumbled. »I doubt you could. You are a Jedi now, right?« 

Maia thought about it. Technically she was. »I haven’t thought about it to be honest. I passed the trials, so … that should make me a Jedi? I – If you think Grogu could have stayed with us, he couldn’t. Just as I had to leave, he will need some distance.« She thought Din had ulterior motives. He did, but his thoughts weren’t even with what she had told him just now. He had wondered what this would mean with her attachment. If she was even allowed to have feelings for him. The way she hugged him, even the way she looked at him, made him think there was something. Something he reciprocated.   

He hadn’t expected this kind of reply, but after an awkward pause he said. »I understand.« Maybe he would have to ask more directly next time. But how could he without stumbling over his words? He pressed his lips together, hoping she would just tell him in due time. »So,« he started. »What are the trials?« 

»Six tests to prove you’re ready to become a Jedi. That you have all the qualities needed to become a warden of peace. It’s trials of skill as well as testing the mind and resilience of an apprentice. For example one trial is enduring great physical pain.« She couldn’t even finish her thought before Din interrupted. »He hurt you?« Her heart sank, that’s not what she had wanted Din to think. »No, he didn’t. My injury on Nevarro was my trial. I – sorry. Bad example. It’s just one of the easier trials to explain.« 

Din took a breath, now realizing himself that his demeanour was a little too much. His jealousy got the better of him in this moment and he just wanted a good reason to justify not liking Luke. »So you trained with him all day?« That was a lot of time to spend with a man. She had only taken three days with him to get him to kiss her. »I did. It was a little strange, I have to admit, but we’ve gotten used to being around one another all the time. It’s better than being abandoned.« That stung. Whether she intended or not, it felt a little like she blamed Din for sending her away. And now she had stayed with a guy for the entire time they had been separated. »You must’ve grown close,« he suggested, dreading his words as soon as they had left his lips. He was a little too exhausted to not let the jealousy overtake him. 

Maia picked up on it. »I would say so. I consider Luke a friend.« Was that enough? Maybe she should change the topic. »Who were the two Mandalorians with you?« »Bo-Katan Kryze and Koska. Her sister was the last ruler of Mandalore before the planet got destroyed.« »How did you meet her?« 

So he told her. From picking up the frog lady on Tatooine, to their little stop on Maldo Kreis with all of the cave spiders and the adventure on Trask. At first Maia was quite responsive, asking questions ever so often, but her interruptions turned to more and more silence. By the time he told her about meeting Ahsoka, Maia was unresponsive and had likely fallen asleep. Maybe listening to him offered the distraction her mind needed. Something to focus on while she fell asleep. 

They made it to Glavis some time later, Maia waking up from her nap when she felt the ship touch ground. While it felt good to get some rest, it was nowhere near enough and she was a little disoriented. She almost fell when she jumped out of the ship. »Let’s get you some food, mesh’la.« Din had his helmet on, who would’ve guessed, and called her mesh’la again. She was pretty to him, even if she looked a little sleepy right now. They walked away from the landing platform, finding a little shop where Din could buy something to eat for the both of them. Maia had regained her energy a little while walking, looking at the credits in his hand. »How much do you have left? Is it enough for a bed?... two beds«

»I don’t think so but maybe we can arrange something. Pay part of the cost now and the rest after I have found a bounty contract. Some cheap motels might be willing to make a deal.« Din didn’t need much to be comfortable. He had lived in his ship for the past couple of years, mostly. »Can I make a counter offer?« Maia asked. The thought of a dirty, run down motel room was a little disturbing, even if she didn’t have to worry about her safety too much. »Sure,« Din shrugged, taking the two containers of stew and continuing the way down the street. »I could abuse my power and get us a nice hotel room. And a bathtub.« »Alright.« That easy? Ultimately it was safer to get a nicer room, and Djarin was curious if she actually could just get them a room for free. It might come in handy in the future. 

Fueled by Din’s permission, Maia guided him towards the less shady part of the station. More and more neon lights showed up on the buildings, tinting everything in pink and blue. Every hotel they passed looked ridiculously luxurious and definitely out of their price range and he wondered by which criteria Maia looked for the perfect accommodation. His heart sank a little when she entered one of the giant hotel towers. He couldn’t even stop her before she halfway jumped on top of the reception to wave her hand in front of the front desk personnel, a humanoid woman. 

It was a little scary how her eyes unfocused as soon as Maia had raised her hand. »You’ll give us a key for the best room you have. With a whirlpool. No one will bother us, we don’t have to pay, and you’ve never seen us. As soon as we are in that elevator, you will delete the security footage.« Din’s helmet turned towards Maia, who did this with an alarming ease. Had she done this before? How must it feel to be influenced like this? He looked over to the receptionist, who slid a keycard over. »Suite 1217 is on the 12th floor. Please enjoy your stay.« 

The brunette turned to him, keycard in hand and a wide grin on her face. She and Din walked over to the elevator, his facade breaking as soon as the elevator doors had closed. »That was a little creepy.« »How else would we get a suite?« »A normal room would’ve been fine for me.« He didn’t need it. He was fine with just a mattress if he had to be honest. »I’m sure you’ll think differently when we’re inside.« The elevator dinged and they were on the 12th floor. She opened the door to the suite and it was … big. They had a table, a bed, and a ridiculously large window that showed the neon-tinted city beneath them. 

Din set the two containers down, removed the spear and jetpack and took off his helmet, sitting beside the table to eat before he would walk all over to inspect the suite. Maia sat with him and they ate. The stew was warm, and while it wasn’t the tastiest meal he ever had, it was satiating. They had a small kitchenette in here, so they had plenty of drinking water as well. »How’s the food?« he asked her in between. »It’s okay. Better than the stuff I had in the recent days,« she explained. Nutri-bars were really anything but tasty. They both smiled. 

Din finished his serving first and he leaned back into the chair. »You can have the shower first.« Maia nodded. »Thank you. I hope it has a tub at least, I want to be cooked a little before I go to bed.«  

After the small but satisfying dinner, Din started taking off his armor while Maia entered the bathroom and was greeted with the blinding white light. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust until she could make out everything. A toilet, a shower, even a washer was installed here. The latter’s presence surprised her, but this was a suite after all. Next to the door hung bathrobes of a very soft and fuzzy bright white fabric. 

Behind a semi-transparent wall, there it was, the whirlpool she had specifically asked for. She dimmed the light to be less offensive to the eyes and debated for a second if she should take the opportunity and use the washer. She quickly undressed and chucked her clothes in the machine, delighted it even had the option to tumble dry. She took one of the robes and went behind the privacy screen. There it was, the pool, flush with the ground level, hidden behind transpari steel that probably was mirrored from the outside. The neon lights were also visible from here, but less stark. Maybe the window in here was tinted for more privacy.

It didn’t take long to fill the pool up with water and she entered the warm bath, leaning on the edge to watch the neon lit city outside. Ever so often she’d see a ship fly by in the distance. The port was busy and yet it was so quiet up here. 

After a while there was a knock on the door. »Maia?« »You can come in,« she answered. Din entered and looked around for a second, somewhat relieved that she was behind that matte screen. »Do you mind if I take a shower? Doesn't look like you need it right now… I can’t see you from there either.« »Go ahead. You can put your suit in the wash, I haven’t started the cycle yet. Don’t worry about me, there’s nothing new to see here for you. Still tattooed, and the back is still covered in scars.« She heard the zipper of his vest, thought for a second about him undressing just a few meters away from her. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the arms she had crossed on top of the pool edge. 

Din wasn’t too amused to hear her talk like this. His voice was softer when he replied »scars tell a story. It’s horrible what you went through. The scars are a testament to the horrors you’ve endured. You survived them. Every Mandalorian would tell you that you’re so strong for persevering.«

Maia scoffed. »Strong. All the Empire did was make me weak and unstable.« For a second the rustle of his flight suit halted. »You’re not weak. Don’t say that.« 

»Of course I am. I’m emotional. Spiteful. I can barely contain myself if I feel like crying. Worst of all, I was isolated for so long, I barely knew how the world worked. I still struggle with it sometimes.« 

»You’re loving despite all of the trauma. They couldn’t take that away from you. It’s commendable.« 

»What is it worth to be loving in such a cruel galaxy? I’m a broken person. My body is mangled. Who could love that?« 

»Maia…« he came closer to the privacy screen. She turned around, seeing his silhouette through the semi-transparent material. He didn’t dare to move a muscle when he heard the water swirl around her moving body. He knew she could see him. »Don’t be so hard on yourself. Your body is still worthy of worship.« 

He just stood there, letting his words marinate. She blushed, undoubtedly so, too taken aback by his words to even speak. While she couldn’t see his face through the screen, she saw his shoulders rise and fall with an audible sigh. His head dropped just the slightest bit as he continued. »I think you’re beautiful… if that matters.« He knew it did. She knew too, but she didn’t say it. 

Din showered in silence, his clothes as well as hers in the wash while both of them enjoyed the hot water separately. There was an uncertainty in the air Maia couldn’t deny. Was it because of all that happened on the cruiser? Gideon’s words still lingered, taunting her and effectively ruining what should have been an important moment in her life. She and Din were reunited and yet she wondered if there was a future with him. She had feelings for him, she had known for a while, and it seemed he did too. But it was a lot. He had broken his creed, with the nice side effect that she was now allowed to see his face, but the consequences would find them soon enough. She had suddenly found a part of herself she had lost so long ago. 

What if Gideon was right?

When the washer let them know their clothes were clean and dry, Din exited the shower, dried off and opened the machine to take out their clothes. Maia, halfway asleep in the warm water, listened to the rustle of him putting his clothes back on. It was Din’s voice, now soft and silky, that pulled her out of her half-dazed state. »Are you okay in there?« She slowly blinked and raised her head to watch him through the privacy screen. »I’m just relaxing, don't worry about me. I haven't drowned yet, it's just so cozy in here.« Maia bit her lip before the invitation to join her in the bath could escape. As enticing as the thought was, Din wouldn't do that with her.

Or would he?

»Din?« »I’m still here.« She saw his silhouette behind the screen, watched as his unruly hair moved when he turned his head towards her. »What are we?« she asked. His shoulders tensed visibly, before he took a breath and replied »whatever you want us to be, cyar'ika.« So she wasn’t opposed to attachments despite being a Jedi? Seemingly taken aback by his own response, Din left the bathroom relatively quickly, leaving Maia to marinate in this feeling of breathlessness. At least she avoided inviting him into the water this way. 

Cyar’ika… she was certain she had heard this word before, but where? And why was Din so adamant about using Mando’a when he knew she didn't understand it. It only ever came out of him in kind of emotional moments. 

She closed her eyes and focused on the word. She heard it before, she knew she had. A different voice, still male, echoed deep in her mind. 

‘Cyar’ika where are you?’ the male voice called out, only to have a female voice reply, ‘We’re in the kitchen, cyare.’ She watched as a woman with long red hair appeared in her peripheral, and then a man joined in. There wasn't much to be seen, dark hair and the rest of his features were obscured. It was like looking through water. Were tears in her eyes? ‘How is the little one doing?’ the man asked, promptly lifting Maia from her seat. And there it was, an unfamiliar face that slowly became clearer as it came closer. ‘She’s been crying ever since you left,’ the woman explained, wiping the small child’s cheeks with her fingers. She was beautiful, and she in fact looked a lot like what greeted Maia in her own reflection. A large hand rested on the child’s back when the man pulled her up to his face, practically burying it in the child's belly. ‘I’ve missed you too, my little star.’ ‘Think you can handle two girls being obsessed with you now?’ the woman teased, causing the man to erupt in laughter. ‘Of course I can. I love you, cyar'ika.’ ‘I love you too, cyare.’ 

Maia opened her eyes, confused what she had just experienced. That was, she was certain, a memory of her parents, pulled back to her conscious because of Din. Tears began to well in her eyes, partially from the sighting of her parents, partially because that meant that Din had just used a term of endearment.

It was finally time to leave the tub, her hands had pruned significantly and the sensation in her finger tips was uncomfortable. She put on her panties and her undershirt and tried to regain her composure, to no avail as Din must've felt the heartache radiating through the bathroom door. Another knock came from the door, but instead of answering, Maia opened the door, her eyes glassy and facing the floor. 

With his thumb and index at her chin, he gently pushed her head upright. »What’s wrong?« His voice was a mere whisper, barely loud enough to hear over the single sob that escaped her lungs. »I’m sorry,« she replied, barely able to contain her voice. »It’s just too much.« She knew she worded this wrong when he let go of her. His hand wandered to her upper arm, resting on her skin as a means to comfort her. His hand was warm and surprisingly soft on her skin. »Do you want to talk about it?« was all he asked. Din was certainly as overwhelmed with the situation as she was, not much of a talker himself usually. Before he had met her, actually. 

»I’m trying. Trying so hard to be good, to not let my emotions rule over me again and ever since I've been back, all I feel like is crying. I was fine with forgetting about my past to focus on the future. Now I know a bit about my past and all it does it haunt me. My parents are most likely dead anyway, like Raymond.« Another sob shook her, tears running down her cheeks. »You just gave Grogu away and have your own grief to deal with, and now you're stuck with me, alternating between crying and a lovesick teenager.« 

There it was. A little confession of feelings, wrapped in between self-pity and justified sadness. 

Finally she found the courage to look at him, his beautiful features tinted in blue, pink and purple. Din looked down at her, his breathtakingly dark eyes staring into her soul. There was a softness and empathy in his down turned eyebrows. »Can I –« he began but sighed and pulled her into his arms, caging her in an embrace. His forehead rested gently against hers. She wrapped her arms around his back and leaned in. Din's chest was so warm and welcoming, only his shirt and hers separating them in this moment. It felt good to be caught in a hug, feeling his heart pound against his chest and hers as well. »Mesh’la,« he began after a moment of silence, pulling her even closer when he felt her lean in. »There’s nothing that could feel better than having you with me right now.« 

She hugged him a little tighter as one of his hand caressed over her back. »I'm sorry about your parents. I'm sure you had a lot of questions and it's unfortunate that they're not here any more. I will help you where I can, I promise.« His head moved away from hers, allowing him to look into her eyes again. »I know that Grogu is in safe hands and that he might return one day, just like you did.« 

She watched as his eyes wandered downwards to her lips for a second. There was a traitorous sparkle in his eyes before he leaned forward and stole a kiss from her. Before she could reposition her hands, however, Din pulled back. His cheeks had turned colors, now a nice shade of red, presumably. It was hard to tell when the whole room was tinted purple. »I’m sorry, was that okay for me to do?« 

She took both hands from his back, cupping his face in them. »Never apologize for kissing me,« she hushed and leaned in for another kiss, more passionately this time. His hand landed on the back of her neck and pulled her in closer. It felt like time was running in slow-motion when their lips connected, sparks flying and her heart rate quickening. She leaned back to allow herself to take a breath. When her eyes opened she saw Din lick his lips before smiling at her. »I’ll remember. I could get used to this.« Did he know what he did to her with just these few words? It seemed he wasn’t done whispering sweet nothings, either. »You’ve turned my world upside down, cyar’ika. Are you aware of that?« 

Maia stroked his cheekbones, trying to find the right words to respond. Because frankly, all she wanted was to kiss him over and over again. »We’ve both sacrificed a lot for this, cyare.« Her hands wandered down his chest, feeling his heart pound underneath his ribs. His heart was racing, as was hers. »You’ve said we are what I want us to be,« she began, trying to find any change in his expression. All she could find was affection. 

His stance was clear. »If you want me, you can have me. If you don’t, we should stop this; I’m sure you can guess which I would prefer.« His hand was still on her neck, his thumb tracing over her skin. »I want to be upfront, I don’t know what my future will look like, but I’d be happy if you were part of it.«

As much as her impulse told her to reply with an ‘I want you’ or say no for a joke, she chose her words more carefully. »Guess that means ‘you and I against the rest of the galaxy’, huh?« He chuckled and nodded. »This is the way.« Her head tilted to the side when she repeated »the way?« Instead of explaining it, Din leaned forward and kissed her forehead. »We should go to bed, it was a long day and we can’t stay here for long in the morning.« He was right, but Maia dreaded having this moment end. 

»No fighting about the bed this time around?« she asked and let go, slowly walking out of his embrace. »Unless you’re not willing to share,« he replied. The bed was definitely big enough for two adults to comfortably sleep in. Something told her a smaller bed would’ve done fine as well, as she would probably take the opportunity to be as close to him as she could. He allowed her to crawl into bed first, and the first reaction she had was to practically melt into the mattress. »Oh kriff I should go back downstairs and get us this room for an entire week,« she whined into one of the numerous pillows, not properly registering when Din also snuck under the cover. Judging by the groan he let out, his back must’ve not had the pleasure of such a soft bed in a while. If ever. »Would you? Stars, I don’t think I’ve ever slept in a bed as soft as this.« Din looked over to her, didn’t have to say much. He was on the side, all it took was for him to raise his arm and she scooted in, snuggled right into his chest. It was a pity that neither him nor her smelled much like anything besides the hotel soap. Still, Maia had her face buried in his shirt and his face was in her hair. »Good night, cyar’ika,« he whispered into her hair, to which she replied »good night, cyare.« 

Notes underneath the chapter whaaaaat 

I don’t really want to add any more of my blubbering, the chapter is long enough as is (and actually I had to split it, there was SO MUCH MORE supposed to happen but I realized this would be a 20k+ chapter. no one needs that) 

I want to take this little break down here to show something that is awfully fitting with the setting in this chapter. My dear friend Rocket (whos also obsessed with Pedro and the color purple) posted a Din piece some time ago and I just… I gasped. 

Do you see the vision? Neon lights (aka Bi lighting) and Din without the armor???

HELLO??? THAT IS DIN IN THE SUITE OKAY 

Props to Maia for not undressing on the spot because gurl I would 

Give Rocket some love:

[lokischocolatefountain]

Daddy Issues

Other fic(s) in this series: Guess

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: PG13 for some smutty talk

Word count: 768 words

Summary: You and Din have Daddy issues— your dad hates him— but you both get past it for now.

A/N: Characters co-created with my friend @lokislittlevalkyrie. Check out their amazing Din fic. 💜

You kissed the top of his helmet, the cold beskar familiar to your lips. You shrieked as larger hands pulled you into bed and held you tight like you were one of Grogu’s soft squishy toys. You giggled at his enthusiasm and placed the box of food you’d brought him on your side table before settling into your mandalorian’s warm embrace.

“I brought breakfast,” you said, looking up at him from his chest. “Dad made a mixed vegetable fry.” From your vantage point, you saw a patch of the beard that still made your skin burn from how he kissed you. The bulge in his neck that wobbled when he spoke. His skin… Oh his skin that was soft and rough at the same time. All things he allowed you to see despite his strict adherence to The Way.

“He cooked for me? It’s definitely poisoned,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.

“Oh, not you too!” You chastised, slapping his beskar clad chest lightly so as to not hurt yourself. Your dad had made it clear that he did not like the man you brought home. He was charmed by Grogu, as was your mom and little brother. But on the Din front, he was strongly opposed.

“What? He’s made it clear that he hates me,” he said, shrugging it off. You sighed and agreed with him, knowing he was right. The first thing your dad had heard about him was you sobbing into his chest over your break up. Things had gotten better and the two of you were back together. But your dad’s rage only continued to grow.

“Eat, okay? I’ll be back when you're done.”

“Don’t go…please,” he said softly, his vulnerability melting you.

“You need to eat, Din,” you attempted to reason even though you knew you would eventually give in to his request. Your separation had not been easy on either of you and now that you’d found each other again, you were determined to make the best use of every minute you had together.

“I’ll eat you,” he said, hand crawling up your thigh and sending shivers all over your body that made every hair on your arm stand up. “Your dad made you too and you’re definitely my favorite out of his creations.”

“Din!” You squealed, somehow shocked by his brazenness though all he had been throughout your relationship was brazen. A giggle escape you unconsciously but turned into an unattractive snort, making you bury your face in his chest.

“I need to have you, sweet girl,” he said as he explored your body. “I’m starving.”

“You had me last night, you sex fiend!”

“So?” He asked, head tilted. “Want you everyday. Twice. At the very least.”

“You won't have time for anything else,” you said, reasoning him out of his sweet delusions.

“That’s alright by me…” he trailed before removing his hands from you abruptly. You whined at the loss of contact even though you’d been the one who was trying to get him to eat so he would leave you to go eat with your family.

“Close your eyes,” he said, and you followed, eyes shutting out the world at his command as they’d become accustomed to do. It was a familiar one. You knew what came after. Shuffling, heavy metal against a surface— wood, your side table.

“Blindfold me,” You said, elated that he trusted you this way, yet doubting yourself. What if your curiosity got the better of you and you looked? What if you opened your eyes accidentally? You were never in control of your senses when you were drowning in his passion.

He returned with a piece of cloth, presumably from your wardrobe if you had to guess from his footsteps. He wrapped it around you, covering your eyes, and tied a knot in the back.

His lips found you and you kissed him back eagerly, searching his lips for your love, for the soft heart behind the hard beskar. He did not disappoint, pouring his passion into you, electrifying a part of you that you’d never felt before with anyone else. With the kiss, the insecurities of the past few hours melted away. It did not matter that you’d separated once. You found each other again. It did not matter that your dad did not like him. He would come to like him soon. It did not matter that he would be off-world to rebuild Mandalore and you would be right here, on your planet, far away from him.

Nothing mattered except the present. And at present, you were in bliss.

.

.

.

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[itsjuststardust]

Heaven in Hiding - Chapter 18: Heaven in Hiding

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Chapter Summary: "I push up on my toes you call me sweet thing And breathing down your neck your body's screaming" - Halsey

Word Count: 15,989

Author's Note/Chapter Warnings: Um, I think if I say that this chapter is 🌶️NSFW🌶️ and tell you that it was partially written by a particular smut monster, that will cover the chapter warnings 😈

Chapter/Main title inspired by the song 🎵Heaven in Hiding🎵 by Halsey.

MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY

Chapter 18: Heaven in Hiding

The next day passed in a hazy, sleepy blur. 

The three of them slept off and on for ninety-nine percent of it. The only way he could tell time was passing was that the sun was in a different position every time he opened his eyes. The light from the sun lit the hold in different patterns of light and shadows as it tracked through the sky until it disappeared, bringing the darkness of night with it. The few fleeting minutes they were awake were never at the same time. All Mando knew was one minute, he blinked his eyes open, and Alaina was sprawled on top of his chest, and in the next, he was on his side with his body cocooned around Alaina’s with the kid in some inconvenient position. 

The whole thing was awkward and uncomfortable, but it didn’t matter. He was never awake long enough to move either of them and too exhausted to try. Not to mention… he just didn’t want to.

This continued throughout the day, night, and into the next day until he was awoken by a certain excited toddler banging his helmet.

“Kid,” he groaned, blearily swatting the womp rat away from him. Unfortunately, when the kid was awake, the kid was awake, as demonstrated by his determination to wake him by immediately jumping back on his chest.

“Mmmmm,” Alaina hummed in her sleep as she moved to sprawl over his chest, effectively shoving the kid off him with a quiet oof. When he wrapped a loose arm around her waist to hold her to him, she burrowed her head into his chest and mumbled, “You’re warm.”

A slow, content smile crept across his face as his eyes began to drift close again. He would probably regret sleeping on the floor for so long, but at this very moment, with Alaina’s warm body lying on top of his, he found it difficult to want to be anywhere else.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

With a sigh, his eyes opened to find the kid’s head staring down at him. He must have been standing directly behind his helmet because from this position, the kid was upside down, and the only thing he could see was the kid’s enormous eyes and equally enormous ears looking down into his helmet. “Bah.”

“Okay, okay,” he groused, attempting to get up from the floor.

“It’s early,” Alaina mumbled sleepily, spreading her arms and legs over him to sink her weight into his chest to prevent him from getting up.

“We slept an entire cycle,” he countered, wrapping both arms around her petite frame to hold her against his chest while he sat up. He grimaced at how his back and joints protested after sleeping on the metal floor for over twenty-some-odd hours.

“It’s still early,” she argued, pulling a face at being disturbed but still refusing to open her eyes.

Mando couldn’t argue with that. The sun was beginning to peak over the horizon, bathing the landscape in a warm pink color as it continued to climb into the sky. 

He carried Alaina to her cot, tucked away in the corner, and deposited her there with minimal grumbling. Once on the cot, she immediately buried herself under the blankets and drifted back to sleep.

He watched over her with a tired smile before returning his attention to the kid. “Breakfast?” he asked, voice still thick with sleep. The kid smiled up at him with a large, toothy grin at the question. “Come on,” he said, motioning for the kid to follow.

Mando shuffled around the hold, tidying up the mess they had left from their last dinner while the kid followed him, babbling excitedly. He turned the electric kettle on to heat some water for instant caf and then searched their remaining supplies to scrounge up something to feed them all. Their supplies were slowly dwindling, and while he could hunt to an extent, they couldn’t stay here forever. They’d been here almost three weeks already, and aside from the last time he crashed here, this was the longest stretch of time he’d remained stationary with no job. However, to purchase supplies and rations, one needed credits, which meant he needed to find a job.

For the first time in Din Djarin’s memory, he found himself annoyed that there wasn’t more of an opportunity for downtime.

He sighed as he divided the rest of the yellow berries the kid and Alaina had picked the other day into a couple of bowls. He passed one down to the kid and dropped a protein bar in his lap. The kid squealed and immediately tore into the berries. Mando grabbed the other bowl and added a couple more protein bars before he fixed two cups of instant caf with the hot water and moved to sit next to Alaina’s cot.

He placed Alaina’s cup and the bowl of yellow berries on the floor near her head and leaned back against the wall. He sneaked bites of his protein bar under his helmet, alternating with sips of his caf under his helmet while he continued to consider their options.

The problem was there were plenty of options out there for work. All perfect, under-the-radar (ish) crews who preferred you not to be in the guild as most of their members had a puck out for them. Ranzar Malk still reached out from time to time with jobs, hoping to entice the Mandalorian back to his crew… and if he didn’t have the kid and Alaina with him, he would probably agree to come back. However, he did have others to consider now—others who shouldn’t be exposed to the likes of Malk. Not to mention, there was a high likelihood that Xi’an still ran with his crew, and the thought of Alaina meeting Xi’an was not something he wanted to happen. Ever.

“You think too loud,” Alaina grumbled as she roused herself from the pile of blankets. 

He tensed at her words as the events of the day before slammed back into his mind. His chest filled with air, making him feel like an overinflated balloon. That really happened? Some kind of sorcery linked the three and then were stuck in Alaina’s mind for hours while they tried to figure it out. It wasn’t possible, was it? To hear someone’s thoughts?

He couldn’t help the trepidation from rising. A bond, Alaina had called it. Was that permanent? Was he forever connected to them now? What if everything fell apart? What if he stuck his boot in his mouth again, and Alaina finally came to her senses and left him for good? Would he still be able to feel her from parsecs away? Even just the thought of that made him go cold.

Alaina sniffed and looked down to find the caf and food waiting on the floor for her. “Breakfast in bed,” she hummed appreciatively, giving him a sleepy smile as she grabbed the mug and the bowl of berries. Mando noted she, unsurprisingly, left the protein bar behind on the ground. She moved to sit back against the wall and clutched the warm cup to her chest for a moment before she took a sip of the brown liquid, scrunching her face at the taste, “I miss tea.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t hear my thoughts?” Mando asked, still nervous about whatever happened between the three of them. He was only just getting used to the idea of having them travel with him, but if they could hear his every thought—

“Stop panicking,” Alaina commented, tossing one of the yellow berries at his helmet. “We can’t hear your thoughts. It’s more like we can feel your feelings. I imagine it’s maybe not quite the same for you since you don’t have powers like us.” Mando hummed at her assessment and turned to take a sip of caf from his cup. Alaina tilted her head as she looked between him and the kid, “We should probably figure that out. Might come in handy. Though, I'll warn you, the only thing that has come out of my afternoon meditation sessions with Grogu when we practice raising and lowering our mental shields is learning that most of his feelings involve being hungry.”

He snorted, “Why am I not surprised?”

Alaina studied him while she popped another berry in her mouth, “So, were you panicking about our connection when I woke up, or did something else make you grumpy?”

Mando sighed, “You were right last night—well, whenever that was when you said we can’t stay here forever. We’ve got a week's worth of supplies and rations left, which could probably be stretched out with hunting, but…”

“But it’s time to go,” Alaina finished sadly, popping a berry into her mouth.

“I don’t have a set plan yet, so we won't leave immediately,” Mando told her, and she shrugged. “We’ll come back,” he promised, resting his hand on her thigh, which was still hiding under the blankets.

“Mando?” Alaina questioned and then looked down nervously into her cup of caf. “Not to add to your list of problems, but…” she tapered off with a sigh, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze of her thigh. “On our first night here, you asked if I wanted to go get my mom’s trunk?” she asked, looking hopefully at him.

“You want to go get it?” he guessed.

Alaina nodded, “Mando, if Grogu’s memory was real… Why would she have never told me any of that?” she whispered.

“I don’t know,” he answered, taking his hand off her leg to toss her protein bar at her.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. We were so close. I just can’t believe she kept a secret like that from me. I mean, she already showed me her powers. She’s the one who helped me learn mine… I get her not telling me when I was a kid, but she didn’t even say anything when she was on her deathbed.” Alaina stopped to take an angry bite of her protein bar, and Mando stayed quiet to let her work through her thoughts. “She worked in the shops; we lived in a tiny run-down apartment… we were just… ordinary.”

“Yes, just two ordinary women with their witchy powers,” he teased and smiled at Alaina’s eye roll. 

“I just don’t understand why she wouldn’t have told me. We talked about everything. I would have kept her secret. Besides, what would I have done with that information? I was a ballerina.”

“She was probably thinking that if you didn’t know anything, you were less likely to be captured, interrogated, and used against her,” he answered her, his voice severe but quiet.

Alaina’s forehead scrunched as she considered that.

“Do you want my opinion?” he asked with a slight tilt of his helmet. When Alaina nodded, he continued, “If I were to take a guess, I think your mom went into hiding.” Alaina stared blankly at him as she processed that and continued. “Take the facts that you do know: she told you never to reveal your powers to anyone. She could have returned to Naboo, but she didn’t. She picked a highly populated, out-of-the-way planet where she took a simple job that wouldn’t raise any suspicions; she wanted to blend in. We got dumped in at the end of Grogu’s memory, but it’s obvious that the Empire was going after the Jedis, and they were on the run. We know that they are virtually extinct now.” He looked at Alaina and her emerald doe-eyes staring back at him and shrugged. “If I was in your mother’s shoes, that’s what I would have done. But the offer still stands,” he nodded. “If you want to get your trunk, we can go get your trunk.”

Alaina gave a weak smile and nodded. “She used to keep paper diaries. I was one of the only kids who could write with pen and paper for the longest time because she made sure to teach me. She didn’t journal all the time, but a couple of her diaries were in that trunk. Maybe they will have some answers?”

“Maybe,” he answered softly. “But to get there, we need enough fuel and food to get us there. Which means we need credits. Which means I need to find a job.”

Alaina nodded, and he watched as she shoved her feelings down. She shuffled around on the bed to cross her legs to give him her full attention. “So, what are our options?” she asked, taking another sip of caf and grimacing again.

“I have a lead with a crew I used to work with,” he started hesitantly. 

“Why didn’t you just say that?!” Alaina scoffed, shoving his shoulder playfully. “You seemed so gloom and doom about it.”

He sighed and cocked his helmet at her, “Because they’re all criminals who I wouldn’t trust as far as I could throw them. Not to mention that the moment they put the pieces together about you and the kid, they wouldn’t hesitate to throw me out the airlock to take the massive reward on your heads.”

“Ah,” Alaina nodded, “hence the gloom and doom,” she said, grimacing into her cup of instant caf.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to drink it,” Mando grumbled, taking the cup out of her hands to put it on the floor.

“But it’s warm,” she whined, snatching the cup back for another sip. “Bleh.” Mando rolled his eyes at her antics but allowed her to keep her mug. “So, what are you saying? Our options are going back to your old crew and risking you being shoved out of an airlock or starving to death on this moon?”

Mando heaved a sigh, “There’s maybe another possibility…” One that worried him for different reasons. On the one hand, he knew they would be perfectly safe and that Rhoam could be trusted not to turn on them. However, on the other hand… Rhoam was… well, Rhoam. The man was the biggest flirt in the galaxy, and even he could begrudgingly admit the man was attractive. The hoards of women who fawned over him seemed to agree. However, some of that could be because the man was a King. Not to mention, his Chief of Security made him… uncomfortable. “I have someone who owes me a favor. He rules a planet near the border into wild space—”

“I’m sorry. Did you say he rules a planet?” Alaina cut him off and raised her eyebrows in disbelief.

“Yes.”

Alaina’s mouth dropped open, “Like, he rules the planet like a King?”

“Not like a King. He is the King.”

“And he owes you a favor?” she asked skeptically, still unable to close her mouth.

“Yes,” he answered in a slow exhale, already knowing their answer.

Alaina blinked stoically at him before saying, “So, you’re struggling with picking between a group of thugs or working for a King? I can see why you're struggling so hard to decide between the two,” she deadpanned.

Mando cocked his head at her and snatched her mug out from her hands. “Hey!” she grumbled, but he ignored her as he picked up the rest of their dishes to take to the sink. The kid smiled brightly at him, and Mando chuckled at the yellow stains around his mouth, no doubt from shoving the berries in his mouth as quickly as possible. “Get dressed. We’re going to take advantage of the next couple of days to stretch our legs. You’ve had a couple of days off. We need to get back to training,” he ordered, grabbing the kid’s bowl and dumping everything in the sink to rinse off.

“Actually,” Alaina started and shared a look with the kid before continuing, “we had a suggestion for training today.”

Mando sighed restlessly as he sat in the cockpit in his chair. Now redressed in his flight suit, armor, and a couple of weapons, he tapped his fingers impatiently on the chair’s armrest, eying the timer in the corner of his HUD. He had the chair facing away from the viewport and at the door while he watched the numbers on the timer slowly tick down.

Hide and seek.

He scoffed at her suggestion when she made it and scoffed again, just thinking about it.

“You realize that I’m a bounty hunter, right? I play hide and seek for a living.”

Alaina glared at him and bounced Grogu on her hip. “Okay, but hear me out. The three of us are connected now. We've been given a gift—"

“What good is that going to do if we can’t read each other’s thoughts?”

“But you can still feel us!" she argued. "The only reason why Grogu and I have any kind of advantage is that we have powers already. You don’t. It makes you… quieter, muted, but you’re still there.”

“And a game of hide and seek will teach me how to feel you?”

"Do you have another idea?" Alaina shrugged. “You give us an hour head start before you come looking for us. After an hour, you can only use the senses you have, old and new. No fancy tricks from the helmet,” she said, tapping the beskar helm on his head. 

He simply stared at her, trying to figure out what the point was. He didn’t understand what Alaina or the kid felt; he just felt something… warm.

“Please?” Alaina pleaded, blinking up at him with those damned eyes. “Mando, you’re so worried about us getting hurt and traveling with you, but what if you could feel us like we can you? What if we can teach you? Think about what it would be like to feel if we’re happy or sad or injured?”

“Or if the womp rat is hungry,” he countered sarcastically.

“I’m being serious!” Alaina growled and swatted at his chest. “What if we’re in a scenario where we’re all separated, and the only way to find each other is by following the little string that connects us?”

Mando found it hard to argue with that logic. 

“What? Scared you’ll lose, Mandalorian?” Alaina challenged, smirking at him while she wagged her eyebrows, enticing him to take her dare.

“You’re on.”

Unfortunately, after fifty-seven minutes of thinking about it, he felt like an idiot for agreeing to this.

An hour headstart… There was no telling how far they could get in an hour. The woods were dense and a good hiding place, but they could hide just as easily in the lavender field. The only thing he could use was his eyes and… witchcraft. Mando let his helmet fall back against the chair at that thought. Now, he regretted agreeing to be the bloodhound, all in the name of Alaina’s research.

The timer inside his helmet finally went off, and Mando leaped out of his chair, jumping at the bit to get started. He bypassed the ladder altogether by dropping down into the hold and immediately stomped to the ramp to assess the situation.

Right off the bat, he noticed prints in the mud. The rain and storms had softened the ground enough for Alaina's boots to leave visible prints. He rolled his eyes. He respected Alaina’s idea, but this would be child’s play.

He followed the set of prints as they walked away from the Crest and headed toward the forest. At the forest’s edge, he paused and looked at the ground with a frown. 

A set of tracks went into the forest, but another set turned left and walked down the perimeter of the tree line. He turned left, following the bootprints that walked along the tree line until they turned left again, half a click away from the Crest. His hunt continued to take him in one giant loop around the Crest, and he discovered that in addition to the path that deviated into the woods, there was another one that went in the direction of the lake and another that continued through the lavender plains, heading toward the mountains in the far distance.

He smirked when the loop led him back to the clearing where the Crest was parked. She knew that he would go with his senses he knew first, and when she saw her boots left distinct tracks in the mud, she must have decided to change her plan.

“Clever girl,” he murmured, congratulating Alaina on her ingenuity. 

He looked at the timer running in his helmet and saw that almost twenty minutes had passed. Alaina had an hour head start, so the faux paths she made couldn’t go very far before she finally had to pick one to take. He immediately ruled out the one in the lavender plains that headed toward the mountain range. They’d never explored that far out, and even with the tall purple grass, there weren’t enough places to hide along the way. Besides, the range was far enough away that it would take the rest of the daylight hours to make it there. So that left the woods or the lake.

To him, the woods, with its numerous blackened trees, seemed like the obvious place to hide. The trees alone could provide plenty of shelter, and there were enough roots and vegetation that she could hide her bootprints… but this was Alaina he was tracking. Alaina didn’t like the dark and always refused to go hunting in the forest with him because it gave her “the creeps.” Of course, she could have headed into the forest to throw him… but when he looked between the forest and the emerald green lake, he couldn’t explain it, but something tugged him toward the water.

He started toward the lake and analyzed the slight glow of warmth that began to radiate in his chest. Was that what Alaina was describing? Was he just supposed to follow that feeling blindly? He looked back at the forest, and the small ball of warmth faded away completely.

Mando turned to stare at the lake, and the feeling changed slightly. The small ball of warmth returned, but there was something else there.

“We can’t hear your thoughts. It’s more like we can feel your feelings.”

Smugness. That’s what he was feeling—a slight undercurrent of smugness.

Alaina was somewhere where she could see him struggling over which direction to take, and wherever she was, she was apparently feeling quite proud of herself.

His lips curled at the challenge. “We’ll see how smug you are after I find you, Tranyc,” he murmured to himself, hoping she could feel him coming for her.

He stalked off toward the lake. He walked parallel to her tracks but only spared them half a thought. Alaina could fake her steps or cover her tracks, but she couldn’t cover her feelings. 

Mando concentrated on that little golden rope of warmth tugging in his chest, and he put aside everything he’d been taught about tracking to instead rely on a bit of sorcery to lead him to his targets. It felt as if the cord in his chest was now something tangible—something real and warm he could physically hold in his hands, even though that wasn’t the case. At all.

When he reached the lake, he stopped to analyze the shoreline and surrounding areas, trying to determine where she and the kid might be hiding. He could feel a tug of disapproval from the other end of their shared rope, and at first, he thought it was disapproval because he’d found their hiding spot already, but it tugged again as if telling him he was wrong. If she wasn’t disapproving of him finding them, then what—

Realization dawned on him. She could only see him looking for them and likely thought he was going against the rules and using the bonus features in his helmet to help track them down. “I’m not cheating, Tranyc,” he murmured.

When the feeling didn’t change, he grumbled in embarrassment, feeling like an idiot standing in the middle of the black-pebbled beach with his eyes closed. But if they were going to learn to use this little gift, he supposed they should figure out precisely what they could and could not do.

Mando grabbed onto the warm golden string and tugged back. The rope flashed hot in excitement; this time, he felt the kid’s excitement entwined with Alaina’s. 

His eyes snapped open, and his head snapped a distant spot on the shoreline to his right. If someone were to ask him how he knew they were there, he couldn’t tell them how he knew. He just knew. “Gotcha,” he growled. His confident grin grew when he felt Alaina and the kid try to shield their emotions. Grogu was evidently better at it than Alaina because the kid faded away entirely, but he could still feel a trace of Alaina. “Nice try, you two, but I’ve got you now,” he said as he took off down the shoreline.

He prowled the pebbled shore, looking around the rocks and bushes that lined it in search of his two companions.  The water from the lake washed away any evidence of her trail, so he was left to look for other signs (hand prints on rocks, broken vegetation, or another set of tracks) for where they were. When he reached the same rocky platform he jumped off with Alaina, he climbed up the black rock for a higher vantage point.

Mando reluctantly admitted that he was enjoying himself. His initial assessment of Alaina’s little training exercise was wrong. This was different. Exciting. And, if he was honest, it was a little bit of a turn-on. He could almost feel the same undercurrent of anticipation coming from Alaina. It was muted and subtle, but it was there. He practiced tugging on the cord that now bonded them together. He almost couldn't feel anything if he didn’t concentrate on it. He had to focus on it. It was strange. Bizarre even. He was his own self… but… he wasn’t alone. 

Not only was he learning how to harness his companions' magic, but he was also learning that Alaina was an adept hider. That was promising for their future training exercises because as much as Mando needed her to be able to defend herself, sometimes, it was better to learn how to hide.

He smirked when he felt Alaina’s shield slip, and he tugged at the cord but didn’t get an answer. 

“You did good using your bootprints to your advantage back there,” he paused to nod toward the ship. “That was smart. I like it when you show me how clever you are.” He felt a soft warmth through their connection. It reminded him of when Alaina blushed. Soft and delicate, but still there. He smirked when he realized his words embarrassed her. “You like feeling me be proud of you?” he asked to nothing but raised his voice loud enough that he hoped Alaina could hear his question from wherever she was.

The only response he got was that soft, warm feeling in his chest flare, alighting hotter. She was either embarrassed to admit anything or trying too hard to conceal herself, which meant she was nearby.

Mando focused on the landscape around him, looking for any clues. “I am, you know?” he yelled again, looking for even the slightest stalk of grass to shake. “Proud of you,” he continued, eyes landing on a dense bush beside a tree across from him. “Always proud of you, Tranyc,” he purred as he jumped down from his platform.

His chest flashed hot at his words, and he knew he was close. They had to be hiding here somewhere. From this vantage point, Alaina could have seen him back at the Crest and on the shoreline, and if he could feel her embarrassment, then he was close enough that she could hear him even when he didn’t yell.

Mando lunged for the dense shrub in front of him. “Got—” he cut himself off when he only found a bright purple lizard that scurried away when he moved the branches away. Damn, he’d be sure they were hiding—

The sound of a rock falling made him spin to look behind him, but he didn’t see anything out of place. 

He couldn’t see anything out of place, but he definitely felt the kid’s amusement. He smirked and hunched over to take a ridiculously huge step as he hunched over, stretching his hands out. “Alright, you womp rat,” he called out, hoping to get a giggle out of the kid.

His eyes flicked in every direction while he tried to feel where they were through their connection, but it was quiet.

His chest rumbled from his quiet growl of frustration. They were toying with him. They were taking advantage of the fact that he didn’t know how to work their newfound connection, that he couldn’t shield his emotions from them, and were toying with him. Oh, he was so going to get them back. 

The sound of the lake lapping against the shore in the distance was the only thing he could hear. He was sure they were here, but maybe they were watching him on the other side of the lake. Hell, for all he knew, they could be hiding in the forest, laughing as loud as they wanted because he couldn’t hear them. Mando shook his head and sighed. The wind blew, rustling the leaves in the tree behind him, and he moved to straighten up and start his search over—

Something heavy dropped from the tree and landed on his shoulders, sending him toppling forward. His gloved hands frantically patted at his neck at the feeling of something, or someone, rather, locking their legs around his neck. It was too late, though. Mando couldn’t keep from toppling face-first into the ground. In a last-minute twist, Mando watched Alaina through his helmet, lean forward, and tuck in before letting out a loud scream as she used their forward momentum to flip him over her. She kept her legs locked around his neck the entire time, following him through the summersault and refusing to let go even after their backs simultaneously crashed into the ground.

“Gotcha,” Alaina panted on the ground above him. She briefly tightened her legs around his neck one more time before releasing him and resting her feet on top of his shoulders.

Fuck, she got him, alright. 

Not to be outdone by a ballerina, Mando latched onto her ankles and rolled them both onto their stomachs. He tried to pull her back to him, but she kicked back sharply with her left foot, breaking free of his grasp. She tried to push off the ground, but when that wasn’t successful, she rolled over onto her back. He didn’t need to ask if she was okay. He could feel it. There was no doubt, fear, or flashbacks in her emerald eyes. There was just determination staring back at him.

It was fucking sexy.

She smirked at him and used her free leg to kick at his helmet, but he grabbed it quickly and used his hands to tug her under him. Mando used his larger frame to box her in with his elbows and knees before he leaned down to whisper, “What was that, Tranyc?” next to her ear.

He looked down at Alaina panting under him. She had to be getting stronger than he realized if she had been able to pull a move like that off with him in full armor. Mando couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate her. Her blonde hair was braided back, but pieces had come undone in the scuffle, giving her a manic, wild look. Her cheeks were flushed a shade of pink that matched her parted lips. His eyes couldn’t help but continue their inspection, taking a moment to appreciate the tight black top that hugged her curves and noted with an evil smirk that he could make out her pebbled nipples straining against the top, and then had to immediately bite down on his bottom lip to keep from groaning when he realized she wasn’t wearing her breastband under her shirt. Fuck. He could just slip his hands under and—

“My eyes are up here,” she teased, returning his attention to her smiling face. “Ready to admit you lost, Mandalorian?” she whispered, giving him a smoldering look.

“From my vantage point, I think I’m the winner,” he purred back, but his eyes pulled back down to her chest, still heaving as she tried to catch her breath, allowing him to admire her soft curves. He was so distracted he missed the sly smile stretch across her face, and his entire body shuddered when he felt her hands come to rest on his sides as her delicate fingers worked their way to the tender places on the sides of his chest that weren’t protected by armor.

“You forgot one very important thing,” she whispered under him. 

Mando gave her a lazy hum as an answer, enjoying the feeling of her hands stroking his sides. He’d long lost the fight to keep his attraction hidden, and having Alaina panting and heaving under him was the final nail in the coffin for him. He fully intended to ensure she knew he didn’t forget a thing. Especially when the last time they had been on the verge of something, it had ended so spectacularly.

Alaina’s fingers dug into his ribs, and the Mandalorian was once again brought out of his daydreams and back to reality when his body shuddered for an entirely different reason. He couldn’t hold the surprised bark of laughter that escaped him. She used his moment of shock to double down on her actions and then used her hands to roll them so that he was now on his back, and Alaina sat on his stomach, trapping his torso between her thighs. “You’re ticklish,” she told him, grinning as her fingers dug into his sensitive ribs.

Mando laughed and grabbed her wrists to pull her hands off his chest. “I can fight dirty, too, Tranyc,” he threatened. Alaina’s serious mask broke, and she began giggling and weakly keeping his hands away from her as he tried to return the favor. After a moment of playful struggling, he decided enough was enough and slowly rose from the ground. Alaina’s body slid down as she lost the fight with gravity until she landed on his lap with her center directly over his awaiting, eager bulge, straining through his trousers to find her warmth. He gripped her hips tightly in his hands, appreciating the way her pink blush now flushed down her neck and across her chest. “But my way of fighting dirty is a little different than yours, sweet thing,” he murmured, using his hands to grind her over where he desired her.

Alaina’s mouth fell open in a soft ‘O’ shape as she sucked in a quiet gasp of pleasure.

“Ready to admit defeat?” he murmured, moving his helmet to gently nuzzle her cheek, smiling when Alaina's arms wrapped around his neck to hold him—

“Patu!”

The adults blinked before they realized they’d forgotten one very important thing.

“We have a kid,” Alaina whispered as Mando’s helmet dropped to the top of her shoulder in defeat, and she gave him a friendly pat on his shoulder. 

Mando stiffened as a thought occurred to him… “Tell me that when you say that we can feel each other, the kid can’t…” he faded off, not even wanting to speak it.

Alaina let out a surprised snort and gripped him tightly as she laughed into his neck. “Um, honestly, I hadn’t thought about that, but um,” she paused to smile at the kid trying to scale his armor. “But his mental walls are stronger than mine, so I think we’re just gonna have to hope that he knows what to tune out?” she finished, sounding more like she was asking him a question instead of answering his.

Mando groaned and gently banged his helmet against her shoulder.

Alaina’s sweet giggling continued as she hugged his neck. “Look at the bright side. Most couples have to go through this long, arduous process of courting and getting to learn about each other and their bodies… and we… we get to skip all that and go straight to being the boring married couple with a kid.”

“Kriff,” he muttered, frustrated in more ways than one, and, taking a page from Alaina's book, collapsed dramatically to his back. The kid took advantage of his new prone position to bang excitedly on his helmet.

“Come on, little one,” Alaina chuckled, grabbing the kid before he could slap his helmet again and got up to head back to the Razor Crest.

With a deep, calming breath, Mando shoved down the urge to toss the tiny green cock block into the lake and climbed to his feet.

The kid looked back at him over Alaina’s shoulder and squealed excitedly. Mando looked the kid in the eyes before sending a very irritated message to the toddler down their new form of communication. The kid’s ears perked up at the wave of irritation directed toward him from the Mandalorian, and he tried to give him a sweet, innocent smile. Mando shook his head. The womp rat would have to nap at some point and the moment that happened…

Mando stopped walking to blink in disbelief as the kid was being carried away and jogged to catch up with them.

“What are you doing?” Mando scolded Alaina as he caught up to them. He plucked the kid from her arms and placed him on the ground. When the kid turned his excited squeal on one of the nearby, unsuspecting purple lizards and chased after it, Mando looked smugly down at Alaina. “He has energy he needs to burn off,” he defended.

Alaina smirked and shook her head at him, but her cheeks flushed at the implications. When she turned to follow after the kid, Mando reached out and shoved his fingers down the small space of her waistband where it didn’t quite touch her back and yanked her back into him. “And just so we’re clear, the second the womp rat closes his eyes, I will be asking you to demonstrate that flexibility you teased about on Sorgan, so I’d start stretching when we make it back to the Crest,” he said darkly, pushing his hips into her lower back so she could feel his rigid desperation.

She leaned back into him and looped her arms around his neck before saying, “You know, some stretches require a partner.”

He bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes to keep his moan to himself, and for the first time since taking the Creed, he wondered if, instead of dying in battle, it would be a former ballerina who did him in.

After damn near six hours, the kid was still going strong. 

They had spent three hours exploring around the lake, giving the kid ample room to run and explore. They stopped near the water several times so the kid could watch (and try to catch) small schools of neon pink and orange fish. At one of their fish observation stops, Mando turned to check on Alaina, only to find her with one foot propped up on top of a rock with her body leaning over her outstretched leg. The karking temptress had the nerve to smirk at him while she stretched. “What?” she asked, blinking at him innocently before she lost the battle, and he saw the teasing tip of her pink tongue peek out from between her teeth. Mando could only growl and direct the kid to keep moving, hoping they would wear him out sooner rather than later.

By the time they returned to the clearing where the Crest was, the kid still showed no signs of slowing down. They spent another couple of hours with him, taking turns with the womp rat to keep him engaged in something. Alaina started one of their magic lessons, stating that when the kid has to use his powers, it usually drains him… However, after an hour of watching the kid float and play with the damned silver ball from cock pit, Mando snatched the object out of the air and grabbed the kid. 

If physical and mental activity wouldn’t work, then he was going to bore the kid to death.

Mando walked the kid around the hull of the Crest, pointing out every possible unique fact that he could. From the wing flaps to stories about how he got each scorch mark and nick from various battles. It didn't matter how soft or monotone Mando spoke; the kid just soaked in the attention.

Eventually, Mando was so wound up that Alaina took pity on him. “Why don’t you go hunt or something?” she suggested with a friendly pat on his shoulder. “We can dry whatever we don’t eat to add to our stores once we leave. Help give us a little buffer with our rations, yeah?”

“Fine,” he gruffed and stomped back in the Crest to grab his hunting supplies, ignoring Alaina’s smile. “But he doesn’t stop moving, and don’t you dare let him close his eyes until I get back,” he ordered with a threatening point.

“Yes, sir,” Alaina all but purred, and Mando spun away from her to head into the forest before he combusted right there.

Half an hour into his hunt, his mind and body finally calmed down enough for him to pay attention to the task at hand.

Mando used the time tracking to mentally plan their next few days, letting the more mundane plans help calm him down. He'd need to send a message to Rhoam soon to call in his favor and hope that the man's Chief of Security wouldn't block his attempts at finding refuge. Then there were the travel logistics. He could already guess it would take both companions time to adjust to life on the Crest again. Going from weeks of having all the room they could want to being confined to the Crest would take some adjusting to. Leaving at night would at least shorten the two days of travel to Rhoam’s planet. Enjoy what was left of today and tonight. Let the kid burn some energy off during the daylight tomorrow while they start packing and securing their belongings for takeoff. 

As his mental checklist for takeoff continued, Mando found himself unable to stop smiling at his visions of what life would be like with Alaina and Grogu. It was then that Alaina’s words from earlier suddenly struck him. “Look at the bright side. Most couples have to go through this long, arduous process of courting and getting to learn about each other and their bodies… and we… we get to skip all that and go straight to being the boring married couple with a kid.”

Mando froze as her words played on a loop inside his mind, utterly unaware of the rabbit right in front of him. Is that how she saw them? As a family?

He’d had a family before. He’d had a clan before… He’d already secretly come around to the idea that the three of them were a strange little clan. Still, something about admitting that he and Alaina were in a relationship and Grogu was theirs absolutely terrified him.

They had feelings for one another. Obviously. 

And, yes, there was a kid involved… but… 

Married? Married was a word that he had removed from his personal vocabulary. That was permanent. That was… love. A word that he only associated with his parents. Their love for him—Their love for each other… Besides, it had only been a handful of months since he'd rescued them from Nevarro. That was too soon, right? Before they'd become stuck in Alaina's mind, before everything blew up in his face so spectacularly, Alaina had told him she wanted to be his partner. She'd also said she wanted to be his lover, but she'd said partner.

His mind reluctantly reminded him that the Mando'a word for partner, riduur, like several words in the language, had several meanings. Not only was riduur used for partner, but it was also more commonly associated with a spouse. Partners appealed to him more, only because he could somewhat detach himself. He could detach himself for the day when Alaina no longer wanted to live his nomadic lifestyle. He could detach himself for when Alaina realized she deserved more than him—

The cord in his chest warmed, and if he closed his eyes, Mando could almost imagine that Alaina was here with him in the woods, placing a comforting hand on his chest to chase away his spiraling thoughts.

Maker, he was easily five clicks away from the Crest, and Alaina felt him. That was impressive—a little alarming considering his previous thoughts, but nonetheless impressive.

Her attempt to calm him only worked momentarily because what was he doing? He was out of his depths. He had feelings, strong feelings, for her but love... 

His mind flashed with memories of their last few months together. Of their day together at the lake. Of dinners in front of the fire. Taking turns playing with the kid. He could still easily recall how dull and defeated her green eyes were when he found her in the Imp’s compound months ago, and compared to the full, sparkling emerald green gems they were now when she looked at him, it was almost difficult to believe that they had made it here.

Who was he kidding? Being a part of a clan before was one thing… but actually having one of his own? He didn’t know how to handle that. He couldn’t remember what it was like to love someone, so how was he supposed to be able to love Alaina or Grogu?

Maybe it was because he saw his parents for the first time in almost thirty years or because he was able to physically hug his mother, but it was like the floodgates had opened, and memories from his past came rising up like the tide.

Older memories began filtering through new ones. One of his parents smiling and laughing together at the dinner table, followed by a memory of Alaina sitting next to him in front of the fire and leaning into his shoulder as she laughed over a story he told her about tracking down an old quarry. There was another memory of his father shushing him to be quiet in their darkened home as his mother walked through the door after closing the bakery. When his mother turned the lights on, they jumped out from their hiding spots, surprising her… it was... her birthday, he thought. He could still remember the look in his mother’s eyes when she opened them after his father spun her around the room and stopped, dipping her backward and giving her a searing kiss. That memory was followed by Alaina’s emerald eyes sparkling as she laughed when they breached the lake’s green waters after Mando jumped in with her in his arms. There was one final memory of him crawling into bed between his parents after he’d been startled awake by a storm in the night, followed by a more recent memory. A memory of him and Alaina sleeping in the alcove on the Crest with Grogu nestled comfortably between them.

And then he remembered what had happened when they were bizarrely stuck inside Alaina's mind. He'd never forget those bottomless black pools that took over her eyes, but she had been trying to tell him something.

“The foundation is constructed by four pillars,” Alaina said. “The pillars are linked together, bound by the strongest substance in the galaxy. Because of that, this room remains standing,” she murmured.

Mando let go of Alaina, keeping Grogu in his free hand. Alaina’s black eyes stared into space, and the kid stared at him with a massive smile as if he knew the answer to his unasked question. With a sigh, he looked back to Alaina to find her black eyes fixed on his helmet, patiently waiting for him to ask his question. “What is that strong?”

Alaina’s hand came to rest in the center of his chest, and both she and the kid were looking back at him with black eyes and smiles.

“Love,” she whispered. Mando scrunched his face in confusion at her answer. “Love is the foundation.”

Mando’s eyes snapped open as a cold gust of wind blew through the trees, and he looked up to see dark clouds signaling another storm creeping over the treetops.

“Your family is beautiful,” his mother whispered in his ear. “Are you happy?”

He returned the hug, savoring the gift he’d been given. “Yes,” he whispered with a smile.

His stolen moment in time with his parents… It was meant to remind him that he remembered what it was like to see two people in love. It was to remind him that he knew what love was because he had witnessed true love firsthand as a child.

Mando turned and sprinted through the forest's trees, their black glittering trunks, as he headed back toward the Crest.

Their stories had been interlinked and woven from the beginning. With their bond, memories may have floated through, but what if it was meant to show him something else?

What if Alaina's subconscious tried to show him they were her foundation? Her mother, the kid, him... that they'd kept her from cracking and crumbling apart when she had every right not to be here. What if she was trying to show him that he didn't need to be scared because she had already accepted him as an integral part of who she was?

Oh, he was an idiot. Here he was, agonizing over him not being enough for her, not being able to love her, not knowing how to be a family when her black-eyed alter ego had proved him so spectacularly wrong. Her subconscious opened him up to show him that he was a part of her foundation. She showed him that she had accepted his past, their past, as a piece of herself and that the love of her mother, combined with Grogu's love and his love, somehow held her together.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, and he was taken back to that night when she'd forced him out in the karking rain to force him to see the world how she did. She'd been right; it was beautiful but didn't compare to her beauty. It didn't compare to how the lightning highlighted the rain on her face, making her appear ethereal. 

"I'm not going anywhere," she told him, and he thought his heart would swell and burst right there in the middle of the storm.

“I want to be your partner. I want to be your friend… I want to be your lover,” she rasped, pulling his head down to capture his lips in another searing kiss. “I don’t want to be locked away in the closet whenever you leave the ship. If you want me to stay, we’re in this together.”

“Look at the bright side. Most couples have to go through this long, arduous process of courting and getting to learn about each other and their bodies… and we… we get to skip all that and go straight to being the boring married couple with a kid.”

If he was going to do this with her—with them—then he didn’t want to miss a thing. He didn’t want to skip over anything—not with Alaina or the kid. He’d already lost five years with Alaina over his poor communication skills and Alaina’s tendency to be rash in her decisions. He didn’t want to lose another second.

He shot out of the tree line and ignored the burning of his lungs as he looked frantically for his family in the silver grass clearing, but they weren’t to be found. He wasn’t worried. He could feel them. They were here somewhere—

“Hey,” Alaina greeted as she and Grogu rounded the Crest. She even had the kid on the ground, forcing him to walk—shuffle—next to her, each with a basket in hand. “We decided to go do some berry picking,” she explained, holding her basket to show him. “Is everything okay? We came back because you felt off. Did you get hurt?”

Mando shook his head as he crossed the clearing to greet them.

Alaina’s face scrunched in confusion as she studied him. “You struck out then? All the rabbits finally caught on to your hunting habits?” she asked, commenting on the lack of game he returned with. “Or did they form some kind of alliance, and it became the hunter being the hunted type situation?” came her weak joke as she tried to figure out what was wrong when he remained silent.

“Close your eyes,” he ordered, out of breath, as he approached her.

“Wait, what? Why?” she asked him, placing her basket on the ground. "What's wrong?"

“Alaina, close your eyes,” he ordered again, dropping his voice to a more intimidating octave. His hands came up to his neck, and he started to untuck his cloak from his breastplate. He came to a stop in front of her and cocked his helmet when she still didn’t close her eyes.

“Mando—”

“No,” he interrupted, shaking his helmet at her. “Alaina Corra, close your eyes. Please,” he added at the end.

Alaina’s emerald eyes studied him, and her uncertainty and concern grew when he finally freed his cloak and let it fall to the ground, covering the kid. Grogu squawked at suddenly being covered and struggled to free himself from under the wool cloak. She looked between the blanket-covered toddler and him and gave him one final skeptical look before she finally closed her eyes.

“I’m trusting you to keep them closed for me, Tranyc. Can you do that for me?” he murmured as he came toe to toe with her.

Alaina nodded, “But, Mando—”

“Use my name,” he interrupted her, lifting his helmet over his head.

Alaina stilled, and even without the added audio amplifiers inside his helmet, he could hear her quiet gasp of surprise. Mando watched her, greedily taking in how she looked in the daylight. Even with the sudden pop-up spring storm looming around them, the sun's last rays still managed to find her bright honey-blonde hair and make it shine.

“Djarin,” came her nervous whisper.

He crashed his lips into hers at the sound of his name leaving them. It had been so long since he had heard his name come from someone else, and never had he heard it as sweet as hers.

He’d never understood the appeal of kissing someone before, but after that night in the rain… he understood why people kissed. He poured every ounce of feelings he didn’t have words for into that kiss, hoping she understood everything he was trying to tell her. When he felt her loop her arms around his neck, he took the hand holding his helmet to wrap around her waist and buried the other in the back of her hair, holding her tightly to him. 

Alaina’s fingers wound in his overgrown curls at the base of his neck and tugged.

With her in position, he arched her back in a clumsy, awkward dip as he chased after her lips. Alaina released a surprise gasp against his lips but clenched her eyes tighter, and he rewarded her with another kiss. When he couldn’t take her any further without toppling them both over, he stopped and broke the kiss to murmur against her lips, “My name is Din Djarin.” He leaned back in for a gentle kiss and then pulled away again. “And we can be the boring married couple with a kid, but I’m not skipping over anything,” he whispered, biting her lip. “Not with you, Alaina Corra.”

With one last kiss, he got them upright, slowly placing his helmet back over his head as the rose.

Alaina stood there in a daze with her eyes closed. The kid was still by their feet, struggling to escape under his cloak.

“Din Djarin,” Alaina whispered with a whimsical smile plastered across her face.

“You can open your eyes, ya know,” he told her, bumping his beskar cover forehead against hers.

Alaina’s smile broadened as she bit down on her bottom lip and shook her head. “Din Djarin, kiss me,” she whispered, holding on to the top of his chestpiece.

Din Djarin’s smile overtook his face, and he tipped his helmet up to oblige the lady’s request. He could feel Alaina’s smile as large as his own against his lips.

The kid picked that moment to finally free himself and let out a series of disgruntled spitting noises, explaining in great detail how he felt about being left out of whatever the adults were doing. Alaina giggled at the sound, and with one last kiss, she let him go.

Thunder rumbled nearby as the clouds continued to gather, but Alaina stood there swaying slightly in the wind with her eyes closed in a daze.

When her emerald eyes finally opened to look at him, Din Djarin hoped that someday, he could look at them without the barrier between them. Without his helmet. He wanted to look at her eyes with his own.

“Come on, Tin Man,” Alaina whispered, with her smile still firmly plastered across her face. “Let’s go inside before you melt,” she smirked and nodded at the Crest. 

He had been so wrapped up in his thoughts and Alaina that he only now realized it was starting to rain. He watched her saunter back to the Crest with a shining smile still gracing her face and called after her, “Hey! You can use my name, you know?”

Alaina stopped at the foot of the ramp and turned back to give him a devilish smile that reignited a fire inside his chest before she said, “I intend to,” and turned back to enter the Crest. 

Dank farrik.

The kid chirped from his spot, still half buried under his cloak, and held his hands up to be picked up.

He bent over to grab the kid, his cloak in one arm and their full baskets of yellow berries in the other and shook his head at the kid. “Kid—Grogu,” he started, and the kid’s ears perked up excited by the use of his name. “My name is Din Djarin, and you have to cut me a break.”

The spring storm that forced them inside was much more intense than the last storm. The wind howled while rain and hail pelted against the ship's hull, all while the background noise of thunder rumbling sounded like it rarely stopped. He tried to leave the ramp open to let Alaina enjoy the storm for as long as possible, but when the wind started blowing the rain inside the hull, even Alaina told him to close up the ship.

“Bah!” Grogu yelled, waving his silver ball in the air.

The Mandalorian couldn’t remember the last time he admitted defeat, but sitting slumped on the floor of his own ship, back propped up against the wall, with the kid playing between the open ‘V’ of his legs, Din Djarin threw in the towel.

"I thought we decided you were going to cut me a break," he grumbled as he plucked the ball from the kid’s hands and tossed it down the hold. The kid giggled and squealed as if this wasn’t the hundredth time they’d done this and scrambled over his leg to go after the tiny beskar ball.

“You’re never getting that back,” Alaina teased.

His head swiveled to find Alaina exiting the fresher, scrunching the excess water from her hair with a towel. She’d changed out of her training clothes into his old tunic, and he quietly grumbled when he felt the kid crawl back over his leg to wave the ball in front of him again.

“You know,” she continued, and he could hear the smirk in her voice as she approached, “glaring at him won’t make him fall asleep any faster. We slept for over twenty hours. We’ll be lucky if he ever goes to sleep again.”

He exhaled an annoyed sigh and let his helmet fall back against the wall in defeat.

“Come on, little one,” Alaina cooed at the smiling toddler. “How about something to eat?” she asked, receiving an excited sputtering noise from the tiny goblin in response, and picked him up to hold him to her hip. “We’ll be up top, so you have the place to yourself for a bit,” she told him, her voice soft and sweet as she passed him, gracing him with an eyeful of her bare legs.

He watched her climb up the ladder to the cockpit, nodding and agreeing along to the kid’s excited babbles as if she understood every word he was saying. Probably why the kid liked her so much; she treated him like she would anyone else. Honestly, it was one of the reasons he liked her so much. It didn’t matter if you were a shrimping villager from a backwater skughole, a former Drop Trooper, a fifty-year-old green alien toddler, or covered head to toe in beskar. Alaina saw you for who you were.

Once he heard the cockpit door close, he forced himself to get off the floor and head to the fresher to clean up. He grabbed his sweats on the way in and began dismantling his armor piece by piece once he closed the fresher door to give him some privacy.

He stared at his reflection in the tiny mirror and frowned at how overgrown his hair and beard had gotten. Leaning closer to the mirror, his frown deepened when he noticed that more and more grays were starting to creep in. He shook his head as he splashed some water on his face and reached for his razor to tidy the scruff along his jaw. Since rescuing Alaina and the kid, he’d let his regular grooming habits fall by the wayside, and if his hair or beard grew any longer, it would become even more of an annoyance under his helmet than it already was.

Once the beard was gone and his mustache had been trimmed to a more respectable length, he took the scissors to cut his hair. He hated this the most. It always came out choppy and uneven when he did it. A not entirely unwanted image of Alaina trimming his hair for him flashed, and he had to push it away before he let him get too far ahead of himself. He stepped into the shower, turned the water on to rinse off the stray hairs and stubble, and stood under the warm spray, wondering why he had never bothered to replace the broken heating coil when it went out years ago.

His eyes opened at the feeling of the cord inside his chest glowing. When he concentrated on the feeling, he could tell that Alaina was feeling very smug about the fact that he was enjoying the warm shower. He rolled his eyes and grabbed the bar of soap to finish cleaning up. Even with the warm water, he was never one to shower long, and he was eager to join his companions to watch the rest of the storm from the cockpit.

Now, if a certain blonde, witchy, former ballerina decided to join him sometime…

He laughed when he felt their bond flush in embarrassment.

“Serves you right for spying, Tranyc,” he said to himself, returning to finish his shower.

He caught himself smiling like an idiot. Again. Only he doesn’t care. For the first time in months, maybe even years, things felt like they were how they were supposed to be. 

At least, he did think that until the lights went out.

He blinked in surprise in the pitch-black fresher, listening to the few functioning systems on the Crest as they systematically powered down one by one until even the shower slowed to a trickle before it eventually stopped altogether.

“Kriff,” he cursed, noting that his normal speaking voice echoed around the small room loudly without the background ambient noise of the Razor Crest.

Just one moment of happiness? Was that too much to ask for? Just one moment for them to enjoy themselves and be happy without some catastrophe happening.

He blindly patted his hand along the wall looking for the door and cursed when he stubbed his toe on the pile of beskar lying on the floor. “Come on,” he growled when the door wouldn’t even open from the lack of power.

The list of possibilities ran through his mind for the power loss as he worked to shimmy the door open. The storm was brutal, so a lightning strike was high up there, which would be extremely unfortunate, given that his repair tools were limited and the moon was uninhabited. Of course, there was always the possibility that some unknown threat had cut the power. Just because the moon was uninhibited didn’t mean he was the only person in the entire galaxy who’d ever been here. There was a chance that they weren’t alone.

That thought only renewed his determination to pry the door open and ensure Alaina and Grogu were okay. He couldn’t feel any panic coming from them, but this was all still so new, especially for him. The only thing working in his favor was that the ramp wasn’t operational with the power cut, so the only way in was for someone to carve through the hull.

When he finally pried the door open enough to enter the dark, powerless hold, he snatched his towel to wrap around his waist before going to investigate, hoping he wouldn’t regret leaving his armor on the fresher floor.

For as long as he’d lived in the Razor Crest, he would have thought that he could navigate blindfolded, but with all the doors shut and no light filtering in from up top, he moved slowly and cautiously, hoping that Alaina and the kid were okay and that this was something easily repaired—

He was surprised when he crashed into something—“Oof,” a familiar voice muttered in the dark—or someone. He scrambled to keep them upright, but every move he made seemed to comically tangle them worse until they tumbled to the floor in a heap, and he just barely managed to stick his arms out to brace himself and prevent his body from squishing Alaina’s.

“Ugh,” Alaina groaned from her spot under him. “Mando?”

“Alaina? What happened?”

“The womp rat,” she growled, and the irritation in her voice caught him off guard.

“The kid? How did the kid cut the power?”

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” she groaned. “I shouldn’t have left him alone. He was getting really crabby—like borderline tantrum levels. So, I thought I would be nice and get his stuffed frog because I was hoping that him getting crabby meant he was tired, and I thought if I got his frog, I could get him to finally go to sleep by the time you were out of the shower—"

“Alaina,” he interrupted her ramblings and brought his hands to rest on her cheeks. “Relax, Tranyc. Just tell me how the kid did it, and I can fix it.”

“I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“You don’t know?” He sighed when she didn’t answer and said, but he felt her head shake in his hand. “It’s pitch black. I can’t see you. Use your words.”

Alaina heaved an annoyed sigh. “I came down to the hold to get his frog,” she paused to pat the floor around them until she found what she was looking for and shoved the stuffed frog in his face to feel. “And we had the door shut to give you privacy, so when I made it back up to the cockpit, the lights just went out, and now I can’t open the door.”

He blinked as he processed her story and couldn’t stop the quiet chuff from escaping his lips.

“It’s not funny,” she grumbled, and he smiled at her tone because he could hear her pouting in the darkness.

His chuff slowly morphed into a full-blown belly laugh, and he only laughed harder when she slapped his chest.

“It’s not funny! I locked us out of the cockpit! The door won’t open or anything! We’re locked out, and this whole thing will probably traumatize Grogu for the rest of his life.”

Squeals of laughter floated down to them, and he rolled his eyes through his laughter at the kid’s antics. "You're right, he does sound traumatized," he teased, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

She slapped his chest weakly again, “You can’t see it, but I want you to know I’m rolling my eyes at you.” He hummed in acceptance and smiled when Alaina’s fingers ghosted over his chest. “You’re naked,” she whispered, and the innocence in that tiny declaration brought an entire day's worth of frustrations rushing back to him.

“I was in the shower,” he murmured, bringing his other hand to cup her face, enjoying the feeling of her soft skin under his fingers. “Was a little too concerned about you and the kid to worry about getting dressed.”

One of her hands left his chest to rest on his freshly shaved cheek. “But your helmet?”

“Can you see me?”

“No.”

“Then it’s okay. At least it doesn’t sound like the kid is in any kind of distress,” he joked, but Alaina didn’t laugh along with him. “Alaina, this isn’t your fault. The kid probably just yanked out some spark plugs. It's my fault for never replacing the cover when I broke it years ago. It’s nothing I can’t fix.”

Slowly, subtly, he felt her withdraw from their moment as her muscles began to tense under him, and he stroked her head. It was strange to feel something wrong before he heard or saw it. But the small, warm cord in his chest went cold right before a quiet sniffle came from under him, and he stroked her cheek, surprised to find an errant tear sliding down. “Alaina? What’s wrong?”

"I'm sorry, it's nothing," she murmured. She tried to brush the tears from her face, but he gripped her tighter.

"It's not nothing," he argued. "You can't lie to me. I can feel you now," he reminded her. Surely, she wasn’t so upset about something as easily fixable as this. 

He could feel her head shake before he heard another sniffle. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was going to bother me,” she whispered, and he could hear her trying to hold her emotions back.

“Alaina—” and then it hit him. He had her in exactly the same position he’d found her and likely in the exact same spot that carcass had pinned her. “I’m sorry,” he apologized and scrambled to try and get off of her, but her hands gripped his wrists and refused to let him go.

“No, don’t—”

He shook his head in the dark, forgetting she couldn't see him. “Stop, you have a right to be upset. I wasn't thinking—”

“Wait! It just caught me off guard. Please. I didn’t… Mando—Din,” she breathed out, and he froze at how she spoke his name. Her hands came to rest on his chest before she whispered, “Din Djarin, make me forget him."

He sighed and brought his forehead to rest against hers. "Alaina—"

"Please," she pleaded, and he could feel her warm breath puff against his face. "I'm okay, I promise. I want you, Din. Make me forget him. Please,” she whispered from under him.

There was nothing in the galaxy that would make him happier.

His lips and body came crashing down around her. His hands held her face tightly while softly kissing her in the darkened hold. He smiled into the kiss when he felt her fingers thread into his hair and her body melt under him. Her legs came up to squeeze his torso, and she tried to deepen their kiss, trying to spur him to lose control, but he held firm. He went for slow and languid with this kiss, savoring every moment he could.

Because he could.

Because this wasn’t goodbye, this wasn’t the end.

This was their beginning.

And he wasn’t going to skip over anything.

He was going to take his time and remember to thank the womp rat for this little stolen moment with Alaina.

Her lips veered away, running up his jawline all the way to his ear.

“Stars, Alaina,” he groaned when her tongue came out to trace along his ear before beginning its descent down his neck.

He became lost in the feeling of her. He became lost in the feeling of them. Because with her walls down, he could feel her desire, which only amplified his own. When her lips made it down his neck to his pulse point, he almost jumped out of his skin when he felt her timid teeth come out to nip the flesh under them.

“Fuck,” he groaned and pulled away to go back for her lips before beginning his own descent down her chin to her neck. “I’m gonna do it right this time,” he murmured between kisses.

“What was wrong with the last time?” Alaina asked. He smiled at her nervous question and brought his head back up to nuzzle his nose into hers before he pressed his lips firmly against hers.

“Nothing, Tranyc,” he told her, smiling when he felt her smile again. “But I’m gonna do it right this time, Alaina. I’m gonna show you how your first time should have been.” He pressed his weight into her, and Alaina’s legs rubbed up and down his waist.

He tore his mouth away long enough to find the hem of her shirt in the dark and pulled it over her head in one, smooth motion. Din ran his hands down her silky skin and returned his lips to her collarbone, leaving a trail of kisses as he made his way down her body. When he reached her breasts, he paid equal amounts of attention to each one and smiled into her sternum when he felt Alaina try to hold his head to her. There would be more time for that later. But for now, he had other plans in mind.

As he made his way down her abdomen, his fingers found the hem of her underwear and slowly slid them down her legs. He sat on his knees and grabbed her left leg to begin pressing kisses from her knee to the inside of her thigh all the way up until Alaina squirmed. He placed that leg over his shoulder, repeating his actions until he was settled on his stomach on the floor with his head nestled between her legs.

“Mando?” Alaina panted and gasped when he bit the inner flesh of her thigh. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Relax,” he soothed her, continuing his trail up her thigh until he reached her center. “And what did I tell you to call me?”

“Din,” she breathed his name out like she was saying a prayer, and he rewarded her by placing a tender kiss on her folds, forcing her to jump in surprise. Before she could say anything else, he flattened his tongue against her and slid through her. Alaina hissed and tensed when his tongue circled her clit. “Din,” she moaned this time, but he could still feel that her body was strained. She was nervous.

“Has no one ever done this for you before?” he questioned, lightly nipping at the sensitive skin before him.

“N-n-noo,” she stuttered and tried to close her legs, but his grip on her thighs tightened, preventing her from hiding herself from him.

“Relax, Mesh’la,” he purred, pulling her nub between his lips. He used his hands to massage her thighs while he sucked on her again. The faintest mewl came from her lips, and the sound almost broke him. “Let me take care of you.”

He could hear her suck in a deep breath as his tongue dipped back in for another taste. Din couldn’t stop his own moan at the taste and feel of his tongue sliding effortlessly through her slick. His fingers dug into the flesh of her thighs, and Alaina rocked her center into his face, forcing the delicate bundle of nerves hiding inside to knock against his nose.

“There you go, Tranyc,” he praised her, nuzzling his face inside her folds before he plunged his tongue as far inside of her as he could.

Alaina gasped, and her hips jolted into his face. “Mmm, Din,” she keened.

Din Djarin was in heaven. 

Having this remarkable woman quiver around him and say his name like that… should be illegal. Not to mention that she tasted like karking sunshine. But she still hadn’t fully relaxed for him yet. She was wound up and nervous, but he wanted her to relax and let him take care of her.

He withdrew his tongue from her channel and switched tactics. After a couple of unsuspecting laps through her center, spreading her sweet juices with his tongue, he latched onto her clit with his lips and sucked.

Greedily.

Alaina’s hand shot to his head and her fingers latched painfully to his hair, making him moan in pleasure. When she forcefully ground herself harder over his face, he rewarded her by sucking harder onto her nub. He attacked her as if his life depended on it. He sucked and lapped at her until the pitch-black hold was filled with a crescendo of Alaina’s breathless pants and moans.

“Din,” she mewled, tugging on his hair. “Din—I’m—” she gasped when he brought his teeth out and grazed her clit with them, and she came with an almost silent moan, but her thighs shook and quivered around his head, and her juices flooded over his tongue.

He drank her all in, lapping, licking, and sucking her through it until her orgasm dwindled to quiet pants, and her legs collapsed bonelessly over his shoulders as she melted into a puddle on the floor.

“That was—” she tried to start but couldn’t catch her breath. “That was—I hadn’t ever—”

“Did you like it, Tranyc?” he asked, already guessing the answer judging by the amount of her slick coating his mustache and chin.

“Yes,” she breathed, carding her fingers through his hair. His eyes closed at the contact, and he felt like he could purr like a loth cat from her gentle touch. “Would—I mean, I haven’t ever—well, that’s not—I mean—”

Din smiled at her nonsensical babbling to slide his tongue through her sensitive slit again, forcing her incoherent words to come to an abrupt stop and instead replaced them with a low groan.

“Would you like me to… um… return the favor?”

His brain short-circuited, and he rested his head in her lap at her nervous question. “Oh, Tranyc,” he purred. “As much as I want nothing more than to feel your sweet mouth on me like that—” he grunted as his body already responded to the image of Alaina on her knees, taking him with her mouth. “You would bring this moment to an end far too soon, and I have plans for you.”

“What kind of plans?” she asked. At the sultry sound of her voice, he smiled into her thigh.

He gripped her thighs and brought his mouth back to her center to distract her from his right hand moving from her leg to join his mouth between her legs. "You tell me, Tranyc," he purred as his middle finger ghosted a path through her slick middle.

Alaina's hips jolted, and her chest filled with air at his touch. "M-me?" she stuttered.

He hummed in agreement and felt her shudder from the vibrations of the low noise. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about this," he murmured, bringing his lips up to kiss her hipbone as his finger teased her opening. He slowly inched the digit in and had to bite back a groan when he felt her walls flutter around his fingertip. "I know you dreamed about it."

Her body stilled under him. "Y-y-you did?"

"Mmmmm," he hummed into her hip as he slid his finger in one smooth motion through her velvet walls to his knuckle. She gasped, and he could feel her chest start to take shallow breaths again. He eased his finger out of her heat until it completely left her, only for him to enter her warmth again just as slow and steady as he entered her the first time, and continued his slow, torturous pace until Alaina mewled and squirmed under him. "What were you dreaming about, mesh'la?" he whispered.

"S-s-org-gan," she stuttered breathlessly.

His eyes lit up at that new information, and he felt like a wolf smiling down on his unsuspecting prey. He increased his languid pace as a reward for this new crumble of information. "I've dreamed about you too. Do you want to know what I dreamed about?"

"Yes," she panted when he changed the angle of his slow massage.

He started peppering kisses up her abdomen until he reached her sternum and turned his head to lick her nipple. "I dreamed about our flying lessons," he said darkly, grabbing the stiff, pebbled flesh between his teeth. 

"Din," she moaned and brought one hand up to the back of his head and her other to rest between his shoulder blades. "You don't like our flying lessons," she said after another minute, sounding confused.

"You don't like our flying lessons," he reminded her, hooking his finger sheathed inside of her at the same time he moved his head to nip at the underside of her breast.

"Oh!" she yelped, her hips rocking into his hand, seeking more from him.

"You were being a brat," he continued the retelling of his dream, smiling into her chest while his lips across her chest and toward her neck.

"I'm no-not a brat," she stuttered, attempting to defend herself.

He shoved a second finger inside her to reprimand her for her sass. Alaina gasped, and her fingernails dug deliciously into his shoulder blades. "Oh, you can be a brat, Tranyc," he murmured, and she dug her nails harder into his back. "But I'll tell you a secret," he whispered, moving his lips to pull her bottom lip into his mouth while he continued to work his fingers inside of her. "I like it when you're being a brat to me. No one, and I mean no one, can get me as infuriated or as worked up as quickly as you can, mesh'la."

Alaina quietly giggled, and then that muted laughter turned into a gasp when his fingers started stretching her, preparing her for him. "Maker—Ohhhhhhhh!" she moaned loudly in his ear when he sharply thrust his fingers inside of her. "Diiiin."

"You were being a brat and wouldn't stop pushing my buttons, so I decided to teach you a lesson."

"I'm—not—a—brat," she eventually managed to get out between breaths.

"Mmmmm," he hummed into her lips before he kissed her. "That's what you said in my dream, too," he murmured right before he yanked his finger from her heat.

Din didn't give her a chance to protest. He grabbed her waist between his hands and tossed her over his shoulder before he climbed to his feet. He walked the three steps to the hull and felt around until he found the ladder leading up top. He gripped her hips in his hands and pulled her off his shoulder to line his eager, throbbing length up with her center. "Tell me again that you're not a brat," he ordered, dropping his voice an octave.

"I'm—not—" she began, but he wouldn't let her finish. His hips canted upward, notching the tip of his weeping cock inside her velvety soft walls. Alaina gasped at the feeling and clenched her walls impossibly tight around him, forcing his right hand to fly off her hip to grip the base of his cock to keep him from spilling right there. With only one hand holding on to her hips, Alaina started groaning and rocking her hips over him.

"Fuck," he moaned into her cheek. "You're just as tight as I remember."

Her body began to writhe between him and the ladder as she continued trying to take more of him in. She slid her hips up until he slipped from her warmth, forcing a hiss from both of them at the loss of contact. Blessedly, her hips sunk back down, finding the head of his cock and going slightly past it before she inched herself off of him again. She repeated this as soft sounds of her pleasure left her mouth as she continued to take him a little more each time, slowly allowing her body to adjust to his girth. "Din," she keened against his lips, and he could feel her face crumple in a mix of pain and pleasure.

Feeling slightly more in control of his body, and his hand left his cock to return to her hip again. He leaned into her head and found her lips with his, giving her a searing kiss that she returned just as passionately. "Say it again, Laina," he murmured between kisses. "Say my name."

"Din," she repeated against his lips.

"Fuck," he growled at the sweet way she spoke his name. His hips lost control and canted upward, allowing his rigid length further inside of her.

"Din!" she cried out, arching her back off the ladder into his chest.

"Again," he grunted.

"Din," she breathed out quietly, only to immediately scream it when he rammed his hips between her legs, spearing his cock the rest of the way inside of her.

His fingers dug into the flesh on her hips, holding her still over him while he ground himself so far inside of her that the head of his cock nudged her womb, and she cried out. "To think," he started and ran his lips along her bottom jaw, "you wanted just to skip over this part."

Alaina shook her head, and he bit down on her jaw, forcing her still. "No," she panted. "No skipping," she murmured, writhing against him. "Not with you, Din."

He pulled his hips back to slide his length out until he almost left her before sliding slowly back inside until she had sheathed his cock in her velvet walls to his hilt.

"Din," she repeated breathlessly. With her jaw still between his teeth, he grunted at the sound of his name. His hips were no longer his control. They saught her warmth. "Din," she whispered, and he slammed home. "Yes," she moaned.

"Again."

"Din."

He slammed back inside of her, pinning her hips to the ladder each time he thrust home. His forehead rested against hers, so he could feel it each time his name left her lips. Alaina repeated his name, sounding as if she had completely lost herself to the pleasure. Each time his name left her lips, he rewarded her by pumping his cock slowly in and out of her. Her hands left the ladder and took him by surprise when her nails came to dig into his shoulders at the base of his neck, and she used her new leverage to help move against his cock, meeting his thrust for slow thrust.

"Yes!" she cried out when he picked up the pace and started eagerly chasing after his cock with her hips.

"Fuck, that's it, Alaina," he growled through clenched teeth at the feeling of her slick walls bobbing eagerly over his cock. He rammed harder inside of her, and her nails dug harder into his skin. With another thrust, he felt her bare breasts jiggle against his bare chest from the force. "Tell me you want to be my partner," he pleaded, losing himself to the pleasure.

"Partners," Alaina agreed, slamming her cunt over him, forcing a shout of pleasure from both their lips.

"Tell me again you want to be partners. Tell me you want to be my partner."

"Your's Din. Your's."

He snapped at her words, and his hands left her hips to grab onto the ladder, pinning her tightly between his body and the durasteel ladder as he took her.

He bucked wildly inside of her, setting a pace that she couldn't keep up with. The slick from her juices drenched his cock, allowing his rapid tempo. His lips were against hers, but they weren't kissing. Instead, their combined breaths and grunts echoed around the quiet hull; the sound was made more obscene each time he pumped inside of her, allowing them to hear how much she was soaking him with her desire.

He felt the delicious burn low in his abdomen, signaling he was close, but there was something else there. With a shock, he realized that he could also feel Alaina's desire inside of him, and being able to feel her pleasure coiled tightly was a surreal feeling. It was her and him together, standing in the ocean, watching as the tide drew out from the shore, preparing for the next wave to come crashing into them.

"I can feel you," Alaina whispered against his lips. "I can feel you. Oh my—Din!"

Din slammed his lips over her as the wave swelled and crested. He growled into her mouth as he drank in her cries of pleasure. His thrusts became erratic as he moaned through the feeling of her velvet walls rippling over his swollen cock. The wave crashed into him when he felt her cunt squeeze him tightly in his grip as it flooded his cock with her juices. 

"Alaina!" he roared and then clamped his teeth over her pulse point as his hips stuttered and started desperately slamming into her, seeking his own pleasure. His cock swelled painfully, and he felt his balls draw up in anticipation as he started losing the battle.

Alaina's fingers wound into his hair, holding him to her neck as he moaned and ground deeply inside of her.

"Din," she whispered into his head.

Hearing her say his name in such a way was the final push he needed. Like a ship that lost a battle in space, his body silently imploded before his cock pulsed, and he exploded inside of her. His teeth clamped down into her flesh as he ground himself as deeply inside of her as he could while their bodies shattered. Alaina thrashed and wailed against him as her soft walls continued to flutter around his cock, milking him for everything he had, while Din roared into her skin.

His pleasure mixed with hers until he couldn't tell who was who. 

Slowly, the bright white aftershock faded away, and when Din came to, it was piece by piece. The sounds of their breathless pants filled his ears. He pressed a tender kiss to where he felt indentations left behind from his teeth. Part of him felt bad because he knew that would hurt once she came around, but the other prideful part of him relished in the fact that he'd marked her for everyone to see that she was his. Her body slumped against the ladder, and he had to bring his hands to grip her ass to keep her from sinking to the floor. Besides, he was still enjoying the feeling of being inside her heat and the feeling of his seed mixing with her juices as they slid out of her.

"That—" Alaina panted but struggled to complete her sentence. "That was—" Din smirked into her neck and brought his lips to hers, pressing a tired, sloppy kiss to them. "Is it supposed to feel like that every time?" He smiled into their kiss when her lips finally responded. "No one—No one told me it would feel like that."

His chest swelled with pride, and he smothered her lips with his before he finally pulled away. "This is just the beginning, Alaina," he whispered, pressing another kiss to her lips.

"Mmmm. I don't think my legs work anymore," she murmured bleerily into the kiss.

"I've got you, Tranyc." Din grunted and went to smother Alaina's pained gasp with his lips as he slid out of her and moved so he could hook her legs under one arm and her chest with his other while he cradled her limp body against him. "I've got you, Alaina," he whispered, brushing his lips against her forehead as he carried her to the other side of the hold to her cot.

When his leg found the low cot, he lowered her to the blankets and tried to stand back up, but her hands gripped his wrists. "I'll be right back," he promised, blindly brushing some of the hair that was plastered to her face. "I've got to see what kind of damage the kid did." Alaina dropped his wrists, and he smiled when he heard her breathing start to even out in the dark.

He felt like he was in a daze as he shuffled around the hold to return to the fresher. His hand blindly searched around the ground until he found his helmet and the sweatpants he'd brought in before his shower, leaving the rest where it was until the morning. With only a minor struggle, he managed to get his helmet and pants on before he found the ladder again, smiling when he realized he would be replaying that moment every time he needed to climb up or down it and headed through the hatch toward the cockpit. After a moment of fighting with the door, he eventually pried it open and was able to get inside to see what atrocities awaited him.

Din's gaze dropped to the floor, and he shook his head. There was Grogu, sleeping and oblivious, surrounded by at least ten spark plugs and his silver ball on the floor. Thankfully, the storm from earlier appeared to have passed, and the bright, glowing night illuminated the cockpit enough for him to fumble with the plugs to put them back in their places. With the final spark plug in place, Din flicked a switch, and the Razor Crest returned to life.

"Thanks, kid," he whispered to the sleeping child as he knelt to pick him up. With the kid tucked into his chest, he carried him back down to the hold and placed him in his hammock in the alcove. He turned around to search for the kid's stuffed frog and grabbed it from the floor to tuck in with him.

Once the kid was situated, Din turned to cross the hold, grabbing Alaina's discarded shirt and underwear as he went to open the ramp. Once the ambient light from the moon filled the hold, he shut the lights off and returned to the sleeping blonde. She had passed out on top of the blankets, leaving her exposed body for his viewing pleasure, now bathed in the soft light from outside.

"Maker," he whispered to no one as he went to join her on the cot.

As he made himself comfortable, laying next to her, he took one last lingering moment to soak her in before he turned her to pull her back against his chest as he covered them up with a blanket.

Din Djarin drifted to sleep with the single, sleepy realization that he'd lived his whole life without also knowing it was supposed to feel like that.

Of course, Din Djarin had lived his whole life without ever having a true partner.

Until now.

Author's Note #2: I hope the slow burn has been worth it 😈😜

For those of you in the US (and across the world) going into the holidays, please know that I am genuinely so thankful for every one of you. Alaina and her story would not have made it this far without your support.

With that said, for those of you going into Thanksgiving and the holiday season disheartened by certain recent events... Maybe you're in my shoes and have had to hodgepodge a Friends-giving together because you're not welcome to join your own families. Just know that I am saving a special seat for you, and you are not alone. Welcome to Clan Stardust. We're deranged, and occasionally, there is a smut monster that breaks out and wreaks havoc, but we're here. We are a safe space for all 💙

XOXO, 💫Stardust💫

Tag List: @racheldon @zenrobbins0021 @locked-ness @smoochispoof

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Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Next chapter in series - Chapter 19: First Light

[panakinthedisco]

Nibiru.

A planet untouched by the oppressive grip of the Galactic Empire, standing steadfast against the storms of tyranny and whispers of fear. Nibiru's strength is legendary, an impregnable bastion of courage in a galaxy often overshadowed by darkness. Their defiance earned its admiration from the farthest reaches of the Outer Rim to the beating heart of the Inner Rim, a beacon of loyalty and resilience.

Such tales of valor and fortitude fascinated Amalteya Romée, a woman whose heart and mind were cultivated as tenderly as the fields she nurtured. An agriculturist by trade and spirit, she was destined for greatness — poised to lead her field and her people as the head of a ministry dedicated to the lifeblood of the galaxy: agriculture. But Amalteya's soul carried more than expertise; it bore the weight of compassion for a galaxy scarred by the Empire's shadow.

The New Republic rose from the ashes of oppression, a hopeful yet fragile dawn that demanded innovation and unity. Amalteya gave herself fully to the cause, working tirelessly to heal famine-stricken worlds and bring abundance to planets ravaged by war. Yet, her unwavering kindness became a target for those who clung to the past. The remnants of Empire loyalists schemed, their poisoned whispers framing Amalteya as a conspirator against the New Republic.

Betrayal came from the unlikeliest of places — her own sister, Avaria. Accused of treachery and stripped of her position, Amalteya was cast out from the world she loved. Yet even in exile, she held fast to the lessons of her mother: that kindness, like the tiniest seed, could grow even in the most desolate soil.

Her faith was tested when a Mandalorian, his armor glinting with the resolve of a bounty hunter, came to claim her life. Din Djarin was a man forged by hardship, his heart a fortress of cold steel. But fate had other plans. Captured by her allies and imprisoned, the Mandalorian found himself observing Amalteya from the shadows, drawn to her quiet strength and unyielding grace. He, a man accustomed to survival, was captivated by a woman who fought not with weapons, but with hope and compassion.

And she, in turn, saw something extraordinary in him. Beneath the beskar-clad exterior was a protector, a guardian of a small green child whose innocence belied the chaos of the galaxy. Din's stoic nature began to fracture under Amalteya's gentle gaze, her warmth seeping into the cracks of his soul.

In a galaxy torn asunder by old loyalties and new deceptions, their bond grew like a fragile vine reaching toward the sun. Amalthea became his peace, a soft haven in a universe that had offered him none. And Din became her strength, a steadfast defender willing to confront the darkness that threatened to consume her.

For Din Djarin, Amalteya Romée was more than an exiled minister — she was the light he never thought he deserved. And for Amalteya, Din was not just a protector, but a promise that even in the harshest soil, love could bloom.

Together, they forged a sanctuary amid the chaos, proving that even in the cold expanse of space, hearts could find warmth, and even the most unlikely souls could find home in one another.

Because for Din Djarin, Amalteya Romée is worth fighting for.

pairings: din djarin x original character / original characters x canon characters

warnings: major character deaths (oop!) and violence

author's notes: this is a slowburn romance for dinteya! and this is the overall gist of their dynamics:

other notes: most of the graphics of this fic are made by me unless its stated.

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