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brokenbeskar · 1 year

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Chapter 12 of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 4.7k A/N: WHEW it's been awhile again woops! Sorry this is a shorter one, I'm already writing the next part though so hopefully it shouldn't be too long before the next update. I realized recently while reading other fics that as much as i love a good long chapter, i prefer the shorter ones because theyre easier to read. ALSO this was the only good place to end this chapter (you'll see what i mean) anyway! Thank you all for your kind comments on the last chapter I appreciate you all <3 Hope you enjoy!

“What’s going on?” You demand more than ask for an answer. The urgency in his voice causes your own panic to surge in your throat.

And then you hear a branch snap behind you.

You whip around to look behind you, but there's nothing.

“Coordinates! Now!” You barely hear the mandalorian shout through the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears, but it’s enough to kick you into gear.

You quickly punch your coordinates into your vambrace and send them his way, before rushing to scan your surroundings when you hear more rustling in the distance.

“Be quick.” You warn him through the comm, with a shaky exhale “I don’t think I’m alone out here.”

You aren’t one to lose your composure easily, but something about the panic in the mandalorian’s voice–the fear. It’s so unlike him and that alone is enough to send a sharp chill through your veins.

“I’m not far. Stay put.” He barks through the comm, and the static stops when he signs off.

The silence is deafening. Stay put. Easier said than done. Every part of you is telling you otherwise. You glance up to the shredded bark above you. It’s not safe to stay put. You pull the kid closer to your chest and cautiously scan the dense line of trees, barely even breathing so you can hear anything before it can even think about sneaking up on you.

Not even a minute has passed, but Maker it feels like an eternity. Fuck it, you’re going to head back towards the creek. It’s not that far from the coordinates you sent, the Mandalorian was smart enough to find you, and truth be told, you were starting to feel far too claustrophobic in these trees.

Just as you go to take a step in the direction of the creek however, you hear more rustling from behind you, but this time when you turn you see something dash just past your vision. You don’t hesitate a second to pull out your blaster, pointing towards where you saw the shadow and–

And then it’s gone.

Like it was nothing more than your mind playing tricks on you. Only you can still hear whatever it is somewhere in the dense treeline. You take a couple steps back slowly, quickly shifting the aim of your blaster to either side of you. Darting from one spot to the next, trying desperately to make out where this damn thing is hiding. The nature of the forest makes it sound like it's coming from everywhere all at once.

Cautiously you just focus on one step back at a time. You didn’t have a choice now, you needed to get into some kind of clearing for visibility’s sake. You need a clear shot at whatever it is that's out here with you. One more slow step–

SNAP

Your heart jumps to your throat with the sound echoing through the trees like a damn gunshot, you don’t even have time to register if it came from you, or someone else before you see a shape dart past the trees again. Much closer this time.

You shoot blindly in the direction you think it went, but nothing but bark splitters from your shot. You don’t waste a second before turning around and sprinting as quick as you can towards the creek, the child pressed tight against you.

And then you find yourself hoping the Mandalorian reaches you quicker than you originally were hoping when you hear whatever it is following close behind you, snapping through the branches and tearing through the bark behind you. You don’t even turn to look, you just need to get out of there, and fast.

You dip frantically between trees, under branches, and over roots. You’re not even sure you’re heading in the right direction. Your vision tunnels to any clear space between two trees and can dive through. The child in your arms lets out small sounds of distress and you can only keep your clutch on him as you keep running, the creature only a few paces behind you.

You think you can see a clearing ahead of you, just a few feet away where the light coming through the line of trees seems brighter than anywhere else in the forest. You quickly pick up the pace, careful to avoid colliding directly with any foliage. You hear him before you see him, the Mandalorian is catching up, you can hear his rising phoenix somewhere above the treeline, and he’s close. Thank the Maker. He shouts to you when he catches sight of you and dives down into the treeline to grab you.

You hear whatever it is behind you let out a horrible screeching sound, and it sends a chill through your bones. You hear it crashing through the trees behind, the horrible rip and tear through the bark and the snapping beneath its weight just as the Mandalorian reaches to grab you. You turn your head for just a moment, you want to know how close it is, want to know what it is that's following you.

What a mistake that was.

You instantly trip just before the Mandalorian can grab you, and by instinct you reach out and grab at him, snatch a handful of the cape bunched up by his neck in an attempt to catch yourself. Instead you throw him off balance and next thing you know, you’re both tumbling through the forest floor, in the chaos hes not able to disable his boosters, so the both of you end up slamming tree, against tree, before quickly being redirected in a different direction, like Mandalorian pinball.

You’re spinning and tumbling so fast you can’t even see where you are or what's going on, the only thing you can hear above the roar of his rising phoenix is the pained grunts from him and yourself and a shriek from the child. It’s a blur of brown and green and grey, and you think you're going to be sick until suddenly there’s a long flash of blue–and you realize you're free falling. What you know must be seconds feels like eternity as the three of you burst through the treeline, and directly off a cliff. The air stops short in your lungs, stolen away in the sudden loss of gravity.

With the three of you still spinning, your free fall is short lived, his boosters end up accelerating you in the wrong direction, and you go slamming painfully right into the rocky cliff side. You aren’t really sure what happens next. You get a couple flashes of brown, dirt filling into your helmet, pain, and the repeated reminder to protect the kid at all costs.

-----------------------------------------------------

You startle awake on the dirt ground, your heart kickstarts back to what it was during the chase, and you scramble to try to get to your feet in a panic.

“Relax. You’re safe.” A familiar modulated voice tells you, and you shoot your gaze over to see the Mandalorian sitting on the other side of the fire.

Fire? You realize you can’t see shit. Your visor is caked in so much dirt from the fall it's making the picture all blown out and fuzzy. You quickly run your gloved hand over the front and wipe away what you can for the moment.

You take a quick look around and realize not only is it dark out now, but you’ve been out long enough for the Mandalorian to clear out a small camp and assemble a fire. He’s got his pack open, his medkit out and rummaged through, you see why when you notice the kid with a couple bandages sitting happily next to him kicking his feet while he pokes at the fire with a long stick.

You slowly relax and settle down to sit on the dirt, sticking one leg out in front of you when you realize how much pain you're in.

“How long was I out for?” You ask, absentmindedly running a hand over your right arm to make sure you’re still intact.

“Few hours.” He replies plainly, watching the kid intently probably to make sure he doesn’t burn himself.

You groan and lay back down onto your back. Maker, everything hurts. You feel like that's becoming more common these days, more often than not you and the Mandalorian are getting into some kind of trouble that results in either you, him, or the both of you seriously beat up. You’re exhausted.

“Get some rest.” He finally looks up at you, “It’s best we stay here until morning.”

You loll your helmet in his direction, feeling the dirt grind against the back of it, “you seemed like you were in a rush to get out of here earlier, now you want to stay until morning?”

He tilts his helmet to motion to where his rising phoenix sits propped up next to him.

“Rising Phoenix got damaged in the crash.” He looks in the direction you assume the three of you fell from, “It’s going to take us a couple days to get out of here.”

You sigh and look up towards the stars twinkling in the distance.

“So much for an easy job” You scoff to yourself, and the Mandalorian hums in agreement.

You listen to the crackle of the flames from the fire, as you continue to stare out to the stars. You shift your eyes, without moving your helmet to watch the Mandalorian and the child out of the corner of your visor undetected. You can’t help but be intrigued by him, he sits intently watching the fire appearing as calm as ever. You can see his chestplate move slightly with each breath he takes, the reflection of the flame shifting slightly as he breathes.

It amazes you, how calm and collected he can be after everything that just happened, how he manages to stay so put together despite everything going to shit. Then you remember how he sounded earlier, how his voice sounded earlier today–panicked and urgent. You find it weird he hasn’t mentioned anything about it yet.

“What happened out there?” You finally decide to ask, “When you were out there alone, why did you comm me?”

He doesn’t look up from the fire, continues peering into the flames.

“I saw something.” He tells you, “I’m not so sure it’s as relevant as I first thought though.”

You wait for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t and the two of you sit in silence longer than you’d like.

“Well…what was it?” You finally ask, turning your head to look at him fully.

He looks up from the flames for a moment to regard you, as if debating whether or not to tell you, and you find yourself growing impatient. You feel the two of you have been through enough that he can trust you. Not to mention whatever it was seemed pretty serious, you feel like you have a right to know.

“I saw an imperial shuttle in the forest.” He finally relents.

“Imperial?” You immediately sit up to face him fully. You find yourself even more confused now, a million questions burning on the back of your tongue, “The empire is long gone, it was probably abandoned.” You try to reason.

“No. The empire is very much alive.” He’s quick to assure you, “The ship was operational, just idle. I saw heat signatures from where I was hiding out. I couldn’t get close, I didn't want to risk it.” You sit there perplexed for a moment. You find yourself with more and more questions with each passing moment. You had heard of some remaining imperials scattered throughout the galaxy, but nothing to be worried about as far as you knew. And what would they be doing here? More importantly, why would this shake him up to that degree?

It’s only at this moment you realize just how much you still don’t know about him.

“Do you…have trouble with the empire?” You ask with a slight tilt of your helmet. You were desperate for information, but you didn’t want to press any further than necessary, worried he might shut down completely if you try your luck.

“They’re after the kid.” He nods in the direction of the child, “An imperial warlord by the name of Moff Gideon has been after us since I took the child in my care.” He turns back to face you fully.

“When I saw it and realized it was operational, I got worried this job was a setup to get the kid.” He explains.

Suddenly everything makes a little more sense now. His sense of urgency, his worry about the child…But to think this whole time you’ve been traveling with him he never once brought it up.

“What do they want with him?” You watch as the child in question tilts his head at you with an inquisitive stare.

“Not sure,” The Mandalorian admits, “But I assume it has something to do with his powers.”

“Powers?” You nearly shout in shock, “What do you mean ‘powers’?!”

“It’s why I’m looking for a jedi to take him on.”

You sit there absolutely dumbfounded. You’ve been traveling with the two of them for months now and somehow this is the first time you’re hearing about any of this.

“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?”

“It didn’t come up.”

“I feel like that is important information for me to know.”

He stays silent for a long while, and you think that might be the end of the conversation until he speaks up.

“I’m sorry.” He starts, looking back to the fire, "You’re right, that is important information for you to know if you're going to be traveling with us.” He pauses and looks back to you, “I didn’t think about it especially with everything else going on, so I’m sorry.”

You stare back at him in disbelief. It felt sort of out of character for him, or at least…felt out of character for how you imagine him. Ultimately, it didn’t change anything. The reality is you’ve been unknowingly putting yourself at risk by traveling with him, making yourself a target to the empire just by working with him. You don’t really care though. You appreciate his apology more than you thought you would. You feel like if a similar conversation would have happened earlier in your time traveling together, he would have doubled down and not admitted fault or acknowledged your feelings. More than that, you're surprised how readily you're willing to fully accept his apology.

It’s interesting just how quickly things between you evolved, you wonder how much of it is him and how much of it is just you. A part of you knows you are particularly critical of him, resistant to see the best in him. You can’t help it. You find it so difficult these days to fully trust anyone, especially him, and you’re realizing how much the two are still truly getting to know each other. So much of him is still shrouded in mystery for you, like some kind of armored enigma that simply exists next to you.

It doesn’t help that some part of your brain still hasn’t fully registered the reality of him–he doesn’t feel real. You don’t fully comprehend that he’s a person under all that armor, that he too has thoughts, feelings, and memories as complex as your own, that his heart probably pounds as much as yours does in times of stress.

You’re realizing this whole time you’ve been almost defiantly resistant to seeing him as a person, you see him more like a passing shadow, a ghost, noise in the background of things you have to do. He’s just kind of…there. Like one day you’ll wake up alone in your old ship again, like him and the kid never truly existed in your life. It all feels so…temporary, you realize. Him, the kid, you, the job–like nothing has any real consequence, like you’re just going through the motions now…

“It’s okay.” You finally tell him with a nod, “We’ve been busy.” Your gaze settles into the flames in front of you. You watch as the flames dance and shake, the wood pops and small embers quickly dissipate as they hit the cold air. He doesn’t say anything back, and the two of you sit in silence for a long while.

“Did you see what it was?” You finally ask, bringing yourself back to the present, and feeling the need to fill the silence.

He doesn’t reply, just looks back up at you, as if wordlessly asking for you to elaborate.

“The creature that was after us. Did you see what it was?”

“Didn’t get a good look at it.” He admits, “What information did you get when you first heard about it?”

You shake your head, “The manager at the coffee shop just said it was a customer rumor. I never had a description other than what the mayor gave us.”

He makes a noise in acknowledgement, returning his gaze to the flame.

“Why did you go to a coffee shop if you hate caf?” He suddenly asks you out of nowhere, and you’re blindsided.

You freeze. How do you even begin to explain it to him? There's no way he would understand. You aren’t even necessarily sure you know yourself. It feels so ridiculous if you were being honest with yourself. You weren’t really thinking about the job at all, just reminiscing about when life was more simple, when life was easy. When it felt like you had no worries other than being bored.

You stare into the orange flame of the fire between you.

Your earlier reflection weighs heavy on your mind.

Temporary.

The word echoes in your mind and you let out a deep breath.

“Felt like home.” You finally admit. You reduce all your complex thoughts and feelings of longing and nostalgia into those three words. You still aren’t sure he’ll understand, but you figure it’s better than leaving him waiting.

You sit for a second in the silence, you think back to your time on Naboo, the time you feel like the trust between the two of you peaked, when you were at your most vulnerable and he met you halfway. When you spilled your tears on his shoulder, and he only pulled you in closer. When you half-dazed and nearly drunk, sobbed your feelings into his arms and he readily held them for you while he walked you back to the ship, comforting you with understanding and words that you still repeat to yourself on occasion.

Temporary…

You think again, but you realize it only feels that way because you make it that way. You put up walls and avoid the truth. You haven’t bothered to see him as a person because you were avoiding him . You didn’t want to see him or the kid as anything other than temporary.

But you made a choice. You made the choice to continue to travel with them, you made the choice to stay .

You take a deep breath in.

“My um… my parents were mechanics. I hated the work, so I used to run a little caf take-out window out the side of my parents' hangar.” You force yourself to open up. Decide at that moment to make a conscious effort.

He tilts his head at that. You worry for a second he can hear your thoughts, that he knows the internal struggle you just went through, and is caught off guard by the fact you’re deciding to open up.

“Why, if you don’t like caf?” He asks.

You find yourself chuckling both in relief that he can’t hear your thoughts, and the simplicity of the question.

“I used to love it,” You explain, looking down at your dirty, gloved hands, “Used to love the taste, the smell, making it–I loved everything about it. I was always trying to come up with new things to try, find new ways to brew it, and find what tasted best. I took a lot of pride in my work.”

He watches you closely while you speak, but doesn’t say anything. He just…let’s you talk. He waits for you to elaborate, to tell more about whatever information you’re willing to offer. If you didn’t know any better, you would think it’s because he likes hearing you talk, that he also wants to get to know you better and open up.

“And I loved my customers.” You continue unprompted, “ I was in a commuter town, and because of my parents’ hangar, a lot of the customers who stopped by were only there while they waited for repairs or fuel. At the time I had never been off-world, so I would always pester them to hear their stories about the rest of the galaxy.” You can’t help the smile that forms on your face as your reminisce.

“What changed?” He asks.

You find yourself caught off guard, your smile quickly fading. You feel all your walls suddenly come back up at once. It’s not his fault, and you know that, but it was too much for you to unpack yourself, let alone to him. You clasp your hands together and squeeze, your gloves straining at the force. The sour feeling in your stomach returning all at once.

“Too much.” Is all you offer him, looking down at the ground besides you, avoiding his gaze.

he doesn't pry. Part of you hopes that since Naboo, the two of you have gotten better at figuring out each other's boundaries–when it's okay to ask questions, and when it's best to let the silence settle. You hope he doesn’t take it personally. That he understands that you each had your own struggles and traumas to work through, and that you respected one another to give the space to do that.

"we should get some rest." he reminds you, more gentle this time.

You give him a silent nod of your helmet and settle back into the dirt. you watch out of the corner of your eye as the Mandalorian does the same, laying on his back into the dirt but shoving his pack underneath his helmet for a makeshift pillow. The kid is quick to follow, nestling in the crook of his arm. which the Mandalorian is quick to pull him into his side. you watch as the kid lets out a little yawn before his eyes quickly begin to fall shut.

It wasn't exactly ideal, sleeping in the dirt like this, but the warmth of the fire is a luxury you will never take for granted. you rest your hands over your stomach as you peer back out into the starry night sky. It's funny, knowing that one of those stars is your old home. it still feels unreal to you still. that somewhere, on one of those tiny specs of light, your hometown rests without you.

you can feel the dirt caked under your clothes, an uncomfortable grit under your gloves between your fingers, at the edges of your boots, scratching at your neck between the fabric of your under clothes. you take a deep breath, trying to close your eyes to sleep, but instead finding them open again, full of starlight.

involuntarily your mind wanders to home, to your little caf window. You wonder if it's still there, if your parents kept it or just started using it for storage. you wonder how your favorite regulars are doing–if they're still alive, if anyone in your hometown thinks about you at all, or miss the taste of your caf, or if they simply found somewhere else to get it.

Your thoughts float to your favorite regular. The one who you would wait weeks–sometimes months in anticipation for them to show up again, the one you would go out of your way to make their drink extra special when they stopped by, get caught up talking to for hours, and rarely ever charge, despite them trying to pay you anyway…

***

"Is it too late for me to buy a cup of caf from you?" a voice rings out from the customer window.

you reply with your back turned as you finish dumping the cleaner from one of your brewers, "I'm so sorry but unfortunately I am closed for the night–" you turn to address them fully, but freeze in your tracks when you see a familiar armored figure leaning against the window frame, holding your curtain open just enough for him.

"Hey..." he says quietly, almost shy when you turn to face him, trying to play it cool.

"Ko'van?" you gasp excitedly, dropping everything to rush over to the window, leaning enthusiastically over the counter, "What are you doing here?"

He chuckles lightly, "Well, funny thing…you see, I was working a job in the outer rim and my ship just so happened to get caught up in an asteroid field. Sooo I figured since I needed some repairs anyway, I uh…" his tone lowers to something much softer, much more genuine, "I figured I would stop by to pay you a visit." he leans forward a bit closer to you over the counter.

your heartbeat quickly picks up at the change in his tone and the sudden proximity. You find yourself completely in awe whenever you see him again, like you're seeing him for the first time, like you forget what it's like to be in his presence, drawn to him like a magnet, the haunting void of his visor, the intimidating nature of the armor.

But then a playful smile fills your features. you see right through him.

"There's nothing wrong with your ship is there?" You squint at him, leaning in a little further, accusatory.

He looks taken aback for a second, caught off guard by your accusation, and he fumbles, "w-what? of course there's something wrong with my ship, I told you, I got caught up in an asteroid field–"

"You also told me you're an exceptionally skilled pilot…" You stand straighter, crossing your arms in front of you, reminding him of his attempts to brag the last time he visited, "so either you aren't as skilled as you say you are…"

He goes to defend himself, but you cut him off before he can, "Or," you uncross your arms, leaning across the counter again with a soft smile, "You just needed an excuse to come see me again."

His shoulders instantly relax, letting out a breath as shakes his head with a quiet chuckle.

"So, can I still get some caf?" he tilts his helmet playfully, effectively admitting defeat by changing the subject.

"You hate caf." you laugh.

"I like it when you make it." his voice drops to a more flirtatious tone, and he leans in, an arm propped up on the frame of your window.

"I'm closed." you pretend to be annoyed, turning around to wipe down a counter.

"What time are you off then?"

you pause wiping the counter, smiling wide to yourself. It was impossible to resist him. With a deep breath in, you throw your rag over your shoulder, turning back around to face him fully.

"I can try to wrap everything up ten, is that okay?"

"I'd wait years if you asked me to."

"Would you shut up?" you laugh balling up your rag and chucking it at him playfully.

he catches it with a laugh, and carefully sets it back down on your counter.

"I'll see you in a bit." he tells you enthusiastically. he lingers just a moment longer, hesitating, just watching you, like he can’t bear to be away from you, before he finally lets the curtain to your window close, and waits for you to finish closing.

***

SNAP

You shoot awake at the sound, not realizing you had dozed off. The Mandalorian is already on high alert, blaster drawn and the child pulled tight in his arm.

“What was that?” You try to ask, still trying to regain your bearings as you hear more rustling through the treeline.

The Mandalorian doesn’t look at you, he keeps his visor trained on the treeline, focusing. The rustling continues, circling the treeline around the clearing of your camp. It sounded big and just as you put the pieces together, the Mandalorian’s voice drops down to a dangerous level as if reading your mind…

"it's back."

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