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awholelottayeehaw · 2 years ago

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I know, another post by me. If you're going "oh my god not again just stfu Billie" I absolutely will not and I am not sorry so anyone who doesn't want spoilers, just skip over this, otherwise enjoy my 3/5 A.M episode 7 thoughts/theory.

Who's Behind the Betrayal?

I know, another post by me. If you're going "oh my god just stfu Billie" I'm not sorry so anyone who doesn't want spoilers or to hear my dumbass 3 A.M thoughts on who it could be just skip over this, otherwise enjoy. Or suffer. Whichever you prefer.

The Armorer

I know a lot of people have their eyes set on The Armorer, but I'm not completely sold on her being the one who sold everyone out. I could see The Armorer wanting Bo out of the picture so that she can go back to having a tight lead on her cult again and didn't plan on Din or even Paz getting hurt, but it's still a leap of faith to trust someone like Gideon to keep up his end of any bargain. One I can't see The Armorer risking. She's not dumb. But in terms of not wanting to get people hurt, I honestly wouldn't put it past her that she doesn't care. I know people may get offended over that but after 35+ years with Din, she was willing to toss him out the moment he admitted he had gone helmetless and that was all I needed to know that her loyalty ends the moment you stop following her standard of the Creed. Even her reaction to being at the forge surrounded by the empty helmets of following Mandos in Season 1 felt empty, like she's able to disconnect from loss like that and she either has experienced it enough to where it's water off her shoulders or she just doesn't care.

It IS suspicious as hell that Gideon's goons had Beskar armor, but she would have had to sneak away from the covert enough times to not be detected and I have a hard time believing no one would notice her constantly coming and going at all hours. Even if she came up with an excuse to go off world, it just feels contrived that no one would pick up on odd or questionable behavior like that. We're assuming one must be trained to forge the Beskar armor and isn't something anyone can just pick up and do, but someone from the Survivors on Mandalore or even Bo's fleet could easily have been Armorers before the Purge.

The other thing that tripped me up at first and I know many others is why she changed her mind so quickly to make Bo out to be this person of prophecy after dismissing her Mythosaur claim when she warned Din in BOBF that:

"Bo-Katan is a cautionary tale. She once laid claim to rule Mandalore based purely on blood and the sword you now possess. But it was gifted to her and not won by Creed. Bo-Katan Kryze was born of a mighty house, but they lost sight of the way. Her rule ended in tragedy. They lost their way, and we lost our world."

At first, I had a hard time believing The Armorer would willingly follow someone who she knows was the reason for Mandalore's downfall. But after re-thinking it, I realized The Armorer never went into detail as to how Bo was a cautionary tale outside of being a tragic leader victim of circumstance when the Armorer only mentioned "they" and not "she." Pair this with how she told the Mandalorian Survivors that

I realized The Armorer may not have any idea that Bo is the reason for Mandalore's current state nor does she realize that Bo had been a member of the very terrorist group she mentioned. The Armorer said she was from the Moon just like Din was, and it's possible that everything she heard was second hand information because she genuinely didn't seem to know that Bo has a crime rep sheet as long as she is tall.

Bo, throughout this season, has been made out to be a broken leader who lost her way and Bo has been playing into that. This is probably the first time she's had a semi-clean slate. And if the Armorer knew about Bo's past and is just fucking with her... I guess we'll find out but I genuinely do think that The Armorer wouldn't follow someone like that if she knew they were part of their people's/planet's downfall and is doing this purely out of a change of heart for Bo, but we'll see.

Koska Reeves

I know others are guessing Axe, but between him and the Armorer it feels way too obvious. We already know Axe's loyalty starts and ends with whoever he thinks is worthy of owning the darkaber, and we already know even then there's no true loyalty to Bo or anyone else from him, so I honestly wonder if the spy/whistleblower would be Koska and not Axe. Koska's loyalty to Bo is much like Axe's despite the fact that Bo treats her like a close friend/confident. When sitting together on the survivors' ship and Bo barely scratched the surface as to what she had done and her involvement in Mandalore's current state, Koska opened her mouth as if to spill the beans and Bo just waved her off like

Koska clearly knows of Bo's tragic past to some extent, probably the most out of any of the other Nite Owls, and would be the last Bo and Axel would expect to be a spy. However, I just can't think of a good motive for her to side with Gideon. But it's hard to rule her out when, as I mentioned, the whole fleet and even Din's cult behind Bo aren't there because she's a worthy leader to follow, but is someone that Din has put his faith in and is the current "owner" of the darksaber." Loyalty to Bo, outside of Din's naivety, doesn't exist. At least, not without major conditions. And this leads me back to...

Bo-Katan Kryze

Do I think Bo is the spy/traitor? No. At least not intentionally.

If you've seen Bo in CW and Rebels, there's two things that have always been consistent about her character: Bo will do anything to achieve her goals regardless of who or what gets hurt and she never learns her lesson. In the past, she worked under both Maul and Count Dooku until both betrayed her. Her loyalty starts and ends with who best benefits her goals, and that has remained the same even in Mando. When she mentioned:

“In exchange for submitting to the Empire and disarming, all remaining cities and Mandalorian lives were to be spared. It was the only chance I had to save our people.”

I couldn't put my finger on why that confession bothered me the way it did. And it clicked: that doesn't sound like Bo. This is Bo-Katan Kryze, the woman who joined a terrorist group because she disagreed with her sister's pacifist ways. This is the woman who burned down a village and enslaved the people there for fun. This is the woman who trusted TWO Sith lords to help her and her fellow terrorists to achieve their goals and only fought against them the moment they were betrayed and not because "Siths are bad." This is the self serving woman who will do anything to get what she wants, including hiding the Mythosaur from Din after gaslighting him that it doesn't exist, and I have a very hard time believing what she said is true when she's never done anything like that in her history as a SW character because it requires the type of sacrifice that Bo wouldn't do willingly. So her comment made me wonder if that was a white lie pertaining their current predicament.

I could see Bo originally planning on sacrificing Din and his cult to Gideon in exchange for them to leave Mandalore alone and the darksaber so she can rebuild the planet just as she's been saying she's wanted to for decades. It's the only reason I can think of (other than bad writing) to explain why she openly lived in a castle in the same sector as Mandalore despite knowing an Imperial presence was present. It would explain why she felt so confident walking around Mandalore despite knowing the true threats were Imperial and not the Troll species or angry robots. It would explain why TIE fighters chose to blow up her home only AFTER Din was in her presence and wasn't too bothered by it. And it explains why she hide the Mythosaur from Din. Bo losing her home means now having a reason to be welcomed into Din's cult and earning their trust to push them into Gideon's trap, but I don't think Bo expect to end up experiencing what it's like to actually like to have people around you who are there because of honor and loyalty and not because you're waving around an ancient, glowy sword that people need to listen to.

Bo witnessed first hand, finally, how respected Din is within his covert and even the people of Nevarro. She saw how much foundlings meant to them, and how far they'd go to ensure the safety of their people that didn't come with strings attached. She witnessed Din's selfless acts and how he gave her unfair credit for a lot they got accomplished and, even if all of that was part of her initial plan, I don't think Bo realized how good it felt to be seen and welcomed as a hero for once and not a terrorist. Although she made a weak attempt at admitting out loud how she may have had a part in Mandalore's current state, she still hid the truth from everyone to have control over the siege because she knew people would back out of helping her. Because until Din volunteered himself and Grogu

No one was willing to volunteer. As I said: no one here willingly follows or trusts Bo. She hasn't earned that trust between her history and her "onward!" and not "follow me" leadership tactic. So with Din not only volunteering but saying this to Bo:

Bo, for the first time, experienced someone believing in her and willingly following her as a leader and not as a resented leader who people only follow because she had the planet's royal talking stick in hand.

She expected Din to reject her as a leader after her weak admission to her sins and that look she gives him after he walks away isn't because she's fallen for him (I won't piss on people who want to see it as such), she's looking at him with awed guilt. She's touched that she finally has someone who respects her as a person and not as the Heiress and that makes her feel guilty if it is revealed that she had planned on sacrificing him and his covert to Gideon all for a chance to rule again and awed that maybe, just maybe, she could be something other than a selfish jinx to their people. Her expression is very bitter sweet.

So where I think, if my theory is right, that her intensions had originally been malicious, I think her experiences with Din's cult inspired her to try to turn the tables on Gideon. That would explain why he wasn't surprised to see her but was surprised to see her fleet working with Din's cult. I don't think Bo knew or expected there to be a full on base built right under her nose like that nor did she expect Imperial soldiers to have Beskar armor. I have no doubt her reaction to Din being kidnapped and Paz potentially killed was genuine, along with her trembling in panic not just from losing her two best fighters, but also from the grief of once again setting history up to repeat itself. I think she'll try to use the darksaber to get people to help her save Din and Paz but will be met with silence because she's not the person they followed and believed in in the first place. I can see her trying a last ditch attempt at winning everyone over by finding and riding the Mythosaur but will be unable to find it. I'd put money on Din, Grogu, or even Boba being able to ride it before Bo does. And I know some people may be upset by this, but I also wouldn't be surprised if she dies doing the first selfless thing with her people in mind in her decades long journey. When Din mentioned Bo's song was not yet written without realizing that it's been told three times over, it was a perfect set up for Bo's death to be a "Swan Song." It would honestly be a beautiful way for Bo to go and giving the saber and title to Din before going out with a bang, recognizing that he's the one that the galaxy and strangers on the internet trying to figure out how to get to him through their TV would follow and be the peace bringer the galaxy has longed for. But like I said: we'll see.

No One's a Spy

I know some of you may be wondering why I didn't mention the surviving Mandalorians they run into, which is fair, but I think they'd be too obvious to be the spies. I am surprised Bo and Din's respected people didn't suspect them of anything and trusted them right off the bat on top of them somehow not knowing that the Empire built a whole base without their knowledge and somehow either forgot or choose to forgive Bo for being the reason they're even like that in the first place, but I would put money on that being bad writing cause it would be really out of character for Din and his people at the very least to not suspect these strangers of any malicious intent. They're so distrusting it wouldn't be logical for them to be blindsided by the most obvious choice. So in the end, the other option is no one is the spy. No one set anyone up to be betrayed and it was an unfortunate circumstance cause by poor planning and strategy and now everyone's paying for it. But we'll see tonight/tomorrow!

I meant to post this earlier this week but I've had a bad chronic flare up from a food allergen. I'm fine, but I'm exhausted and in a lot of discomfort waiting for the flare to pass. Until it does, I'm curious to hear all of your thoughts and I'll see you on the other side.

#The Mandalorian #Season 3 #Season 3 Spoilers #Din Djarin #bo katan kryze #The Armorer #koska reeves #axe woves #the spies #betrayal #Bo-Katan #Billie Speaks #analysis #Season Finale predictions #sort of #Grogu #Death Watch #Swan Song #Death Predictions

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skyz8 · 1 year ago

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that's a nice theory, op! i want to believe in it too but it was announced before the show aired that ahsoka happens concurrently with mando season three so ahsoka HAS met luke before encountering baylan skoll. it's only that luke is far beneath her list of concern that she never thought of him 😔although the ahsoka show does recontextualize her refusal to train grogu and the motive behind her preventing mando to meet up with grogu in ossus. she convinced r2 to go to her instead of telling luke that mando came to visit. luke was never told and had to find out that mando visited when mando's ship was leaving. i'm sure her intentions were from a place of good but in the end she prevented mando to meet his foundling (something she would have known is important in mando culture because she spent time with bo-katan and sabine) and yet she didn't trust luke to handle it himself. she even mentioned how luke is like his father right after he confronted her about mando's visit. this is all very interesting because with the recent ahsoka episode, her actions in tbobf is recontextualized as something that's likely motivated by her trauma and issues that stem from her unresolved past. and luke was too polite to have his choice to confront mando and decide what to do with grogu alongside his student's parental figure basically robbed from him 😭

Hey anon, thanks for stopping by ♡

As far as I know there's no official confirmation from Dave Filoni or the official Star Wars website about the actual timeline of the Ahsoka series, there are some new articles still speculating about the timeline. But I think during SW celebration Natasha Liu Bordizzo was the only one who said that the show's events are happening along the same timeline as Mando S3. So, you could be right.

But what still makes me suspicious of the timeline is that a few days after the two-episode premiere, the official Star Wars website omitted TBOBF ep 6 from the list of essential episodes to watch before the Ahsoka show. Which is...weird.

The last recommendation in the list is her appearance in The Mandalorian s2. So why is that I wonder?

We start the Ahsoka show with Morgan Elsbeth being rescued by Baylan and Shin as she was being transported to Coruscant for her trial, the last time we saw Morgan is when she was defeated and captured by Ahsoka in Mando s2. I don't think it'll take the new republic 2+ years to transfer a prisoner to Coruscant for their trial, so it's safe to assume that this happens after a few months max from her capture by Ahsoka. So at this point I don't think we reached TBOBF timeline yet...

As for Ahsoka preventing Din from seeing Grogu in that episode, I didn't like it, and at the time I didn't get the concept of no-attachments with Jedi (I became a Star Wars fan after the Mandalorian S2 finale & haven't watched the animated shows yet at the time) but then I read some other fans' analysis of that scene and I understood why Ahsoka was adamant about it. The thing is Grogu has a BIG attachment issue to the point of not being able to concentrate on his training, as Luke said, his heart wasn't in it. That kind of attachment and conflict within his heart along with being very strong with the Force can be dangerous for him because he'd be susceptible to the dark side. I think @gffa explained Ahsoka's reasoning well here.

I know there are different views in the fandom about the Jedi Code of no attachments, canon vs legends...etc, and I personally think that this rule is not being examined or conveyed in a clear way or in a good way? in live action tv shows, but it seems Dave Filoni is continuing George Lucas's views about attachments with Jedi, that this rule is not wrong. So I think Ahsoka wasn't preventing Din from seeing Grogu out of her own trauma, her reasoning was solid.

Having said that, as much as I enjoyed Ahsoka being with Luke in TBOBF (it was beautiful ngl), I personally don't think she should've been there in the first place.

For two reasons:

A) As you said, it robbed Luke of an important moment in the story that would have added so much to his character and also Din's. Luke should've been the one to talk to Din about Grogu and have some interesting meaningful discussion with him about what it means to be a Jedi and what it means to be a Mandalorian (seriously how tf could filoni and favreau pass on this marvelous opportunity??!! PFFFT), and if they want to save the reunion with Grogu for later they could've let him nap deeply while Luke and Din have a chat.

B) How could they throw Ahsoka and Luke casually talking with each other at the audience WITHOUT SHOWING THEIR FIRST MEETING TOGETHER?!! It's a big thing! Like, it still boggles my mind! So I think Ahsoka meeting Luke for the first time should've been in her own show.

But anyways, back to our topic, there's a moment in TBOBF where Ahsoka tells Luke to trust his instincts, and if you remember one of the Ahsoka teasers a while ago had Anakin's voice talking to Ahsoka (A flashback? An old hologram?) telling her to trust her instincts (perhaps it's coming up in one of the remaining episods?)...So maybe that's where it stuck with her and then she told Luke the same thing later, you know 😭😭😭

Sorry for the long rambling answer anon.

#ahsoka tano #luke skywalker #anakin skywalker #grogu #din djarin #star wars #ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka series #ahsoka show #the book of boba fett #tbobf #sky answers

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ev-pierce-writes · 3 years ago

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The Promise

The Heir Chapter 3

Pairing: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12K

Warnings: I can't even remember.

Note: Oof its been a while sorry

___

The council meeting was where everything started to go wrong. The members of the Neutral Systems were always dismissive and condescending toward you, but the presence of the Mandalorian made it worse.

"These people are not easy to convince, Din," you warned him before stepping into the meeting. "I don't know what your plan for Mandalore is but you are either about to make great allies or terrible enemies."

"I'll follow your lead," he said.

"You brought him here?" General Tarrow questioned incredulously the moment you appeared.

"Is there a problem with that?" you countered. Din sat silently beside you, helmet on, surveying the situation.

"You were always one to flirt with danger, Your Majesty. But I never expected you to court the enemy," Prince Cornith, representative of the Angor system, said. You hated his smug smile and arrogant posture. And his implication stoked an anger in your chest.

"And yet I'm not surprised at your apparent prejudice towards someone you've never met. The Mandalorian is not an enemy. He's an ally in need of assistance to fight for his people."

"How are you expecting this to play out? A little catfight amongst warrior clans who know nothing but to fight?" the General asked. A wave of laughter spread through the representatives. You did not join in.

"My people have seen Bo-Katan on Mandalore. She's gathering the people around her. Readying for battle. She needs to be stopped before this escalates and it spills over into other systems."

"So what you're saying is to prepare for war?" General Tarrow's questioned, jumping to a fairly major conclusion.

"I'm saying we need to be prepared for the possibility of one good Mandalorian having to face a hundred bad ones."

"Why should we even get involved in this? This guy can't be trusted," Cornith said, pointing an accusing finger at Din. "Take off the ridiculous helmet and then we'll see for real. Maybe he's a deformed monster under it all."

You bristled against the blatant insult but managed to remain collected. The Prince enjoyed getting a rise out of you and you knew no one would stand up for you if you fired back.

"If the wrong person ends up on the throne, and Mandalore returns to its militaristic ways, they will encroach on your territory. They used to control entire systems. Bo-Katan can and will take yours."

"We are prepared to deal with that if it happens."

"When it happens, General, it will be too late. None of us are a match for a well-organized Mandalorian army. We need to get ahead of this."

"Who's to say he's even the one we should be backing? We are the Neutral Systems for a reason. We don't take sides."

"Djarin is a good man. I trust him. Societies don't rebuild themselves overnight. We need to lay the right bricks now to build a foundation that won't just fall apart and take the whole structure with it. Djarin is the one to do that."

"I hate to argue with you, Your Majesty--" This was a lie. The Prince loved to argue. "--but I'm afraid your judgment is clouded by your shared history with Mandalore."

"And I'm afraid your judgment is clouded by your selfishness, Prince Cornith."

He stood. "I act only with my people's best interests at heart."

"As do I." You stood as well and stared the Prince down. General Tarrow watched the interaction from his seat, just as distrustful as Cornith but less vocal.

"What happens if Bo-Katan does take control and finds out we've been going behind her back to form an alliance?" Cornith said. "The rest of us are done for. Nhora might have the firepower to protect herself, but we don't."

In a way he was right. If this failed, everyone, including Nhora, would take the heat. Din had remained silent the entire time, unsure if he was even allowed to speak. But finally, he did. "You're right. I can't ask you to put your people on the line. All I can ask is that when the time comes you will support my people and their wishes. I just-- I want to protect my family. You can understand that right?"

Cornith eyed Din with distrust and then shook his head. "I'm out. Whatever deal you're going to try to make, I won't get involved."

"Can you at least promise not to align yourself with Bo-Katan?" you pleaded.

He sighed, almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, but I can't take that risk. I'll do what I think is best to protect my people. I'm out."

Cornith's hologram flickered and then disappeared. Two others followed, leaving only you and General Tarrow. And though he still hesitated, Din's words had appeared to make a dent in the tough General's shell. If he wasn't going to listen to you at least he would listen to Din. He sat up and leaned forward, completely ignoring you when he spoke and looking only at the Mandalorian.

"How many soldiers are we talking? How many will it take for this little operation of yours."

"Six," Din said.

"Six?" both you and the General exclaimed at the same time.

"At most."

"And here I thought we were arguing over hundreds. Six we can manage." That was far fewer than either of you were expecting. Din hadn't explained to you what his plan was yet. And if he was being honest, he wasn't quite sure himself. But this was a start.

"You do realize what you are up against, Mando," you questioned. "She'll be expecting you to make a move."

"I once took out an Imp base with fewer than that. Bo-Katan doesn't want a war. She needs to defeat me in battle, fairly, to regain the saber. I just need to get in."

"And then what? Kill or be killed?" The thought made your heart constrict.

"I hope not. But probably."

The room fell quiet at the gravity of his words.

"I'm going with you," Zena said abruptly. She had remained silent throughout the meeting but now spoke with determination.

"Absolutely not," Din said. "No offense but I need trained warriors for this."

You could tell by the look on Zena's face that she'd already made up her mind. "It wasn't a question, Mando," she said. "I'm the best warrior on this planet and I'm going with you."

Din was silent. "Okay," he consented, though sounding a bit taken aback. "That's one. I'll need that Jedi too, Skywalker."

"Good luck finding him," the General said. "I'll discuss this with my Lieutenants. We'll see about filling out your team. But I'm not making any promises, Mando. And you're going to have to deal with the consequences of the Angor system potentially aligning with Bo-Katan. Prince Cornith will follow whoever offers him the best price."

And then the General was gone as well. You sighed, finally able to let down the hardened exterior you had put up for the council meeting. "That did not go as well as I'd hoped."

"I hate that Angor guy," Zena said with a huff.

"Me too. Eyed you like a slab of meat," Din said quietly. It was the harshest language you'd ever heard out of his mouth, almost protective of you. But he moved on quickly. "I was expecting the worst. At least we might have the General. I have a...friend on the inside as well. But I'll need help getting in contact with her."

"I'll take care of that," you said, sinking deeper in your chair, now only thinking that Din's plan might be a suicide mission. Din followed your movements, noticing the stress that radiated from you in waves. You'd taken quite the verbal berating from the council. He wanted to reach out and ease your worry the way he had last night but was too conscious of Zena's watchful eye. So he settled on speaking.

"You can back out," he said. His words caught you off guard. "I can go forward without you. You don't need to put your people on the line like this."

"Too late for that, Mando," Zena said, answering for you. "Once she makes up her mind there's no going back."

---

Zena was right. Your mind was made up. You were suspiciously silent through the rest of the morning's meetings and disappeared directly afterward to your chambers, reappearing again only for lunch. You were planning, turning things over in your mind, wondering how best to move forward. The next logical step seemed to wait on the reappearance of the Jedi and his ward.

Din noticed it all, the concentrated look on your face, your abnormal silence. He wanted to draw you out of your shell, tell you it would be alright, but he didn't know how. So he focused on Zena.

"I didn't know you could fight," he said to her. Zena had offered to give him a tour of the grounds of the palace, and you trailed along behind, eager for a distraction from the stressful morning. The three of you had come upon the sparring grounds, piquing Din's curiosity.

"I come from the longest line of warriors on Nhora," she said. "My mother, her mother, her mother... Not that they passed on anything cool like beskar armor. Is it all beskar?"

"Yes. Though mine wasn't passed on either. I got it through more... dubious means."

"And that? Also beskar?" Zena motioned to the staff on Din's back, topped with a sharp spearhead.

Din unclipped the staff from his back and handed it to her with surprising trust. She took it gingerly, feeling out the balance in her hands. "It's very light. Do you fight with this?"

"Is that a challenge, Zena?"

"Hah, I could take you, Mando. You want to go a round?"

Din didn't need to be asked twice. He was eager to see how your royal advisor fared one on one.

You stood above them on the observation ledge of the sparring grounds, watching as they faced each other below, knowing this would be a good fight.

Zena tapped the staff against the ground. "Where's your weapon, Mando?"

"No weapon. Wouldn't want to give you an unfair disadvantage." Though Zena took those words as a challenge they were not said arrogantly. Din's cool confidence was built on experience and success.

But Din was not prepared for what he would get hit with next. Specifically what Zena hit him with next. Zena struck out with the first blow, slamming the staff in a dangerously accurate hit to the side of his head. The beskar sent vibrations through his helmet and he stumbled back in surprise. Taking advantage of his disorientation Zena dealt a second blow with her foot to his side, and Din gasped, bending over in pain. He'd forgotten about rule one, never underestimate your opponent. And rule number two, no distractions. Having you as an audience was a damn good one.

Zena lunged again, though this time Din was ready, taking hold with his gloved hands of the staff and hauling her forward. But Zena anticipated the attack and counterbalanced, shifting her weight down and using the staff as a lever to launch him onto his back.

Din landed with a groan on the ground. Watching a Mandalorian get his ass kicked by your advisor was a very sufficient diversion.

"Unfair disadvantage, Mando? You seem to be the one at a disadvantage," Zena taunted as Din hauled himself to his feet. "Perhaps you're distracted by a pretty woman on your mind."

"We both know you're trying to impress her too."

Your heart began to flutter. He was trying to impress you.

"Ah yes, but the difference is I've already impressed her. You are behind."

That comment finally got to him. Din struck next, easily knocking the staff from Zena's hands and pinning her arms behind her back to immobilize her upper body. The staff went clattering to the ground. But it wasn't the end for your advisor. She kicked out her legs and took both her and Din to the floor, reaching out and taking hold of the staff to swing at his head. Din rolled out of the way, but not without having to relinquish his hold on Zena. She lept to her feet gracefully and lashed out her leg, planting a solid and swift kick to one of Din's pauldrons, sending him back to the floor.

"You should really work on your hand-to-hand combat, Din Djarin. I expected better from a lifelong warrior."

"I'm good enough to get by," Din said with a huff, finally making his way to his feet again.

"Good enough isn't good enough, Mando. You need to be better. The best."

"Fine, if you want a fair fight, you'll get one." Din pulled something from his belt. It was hard to tell what it was, just an oblong object in his hand. But then he pressed a button and the full length of it emerged, glowing and humming with electricity. The Darksaber.

"So when I defeat you, does that mean I'm the new Mand'alor?"

Zena was taking the appearance of the most powerful handheld weapon in the galaxy in stride.

"If you win, yes. But you're not going to."

The saber met the staff with a crash, sending reverberations across the sparring grounds. You felt a jolt of electricity spread over your skin, vibrating your body down to the core. Din suddenly took on a new appearance, powerful, intense, confident. The shift was small but compelling and you thought perhaps the vibrations spreading through your body were not just from the force of the saber.

Din attacked again, forcing Zena backward in a fight that had taken on a new energy. Zena was skilled and agile. She anticipated Din's every move and blocked his strikes. But she was no match to the Darksaber in Din's hands and found herself forced to step back with each blow until she was up against the wall. The staff narrowly prevented the loss of her head.

"How about now, ready to tap out?"

Zena held up a fist in response, letting him know she knew she was done for.

"I take that back. You are good."

In an instant, the Darksaber was gone again, just a hilt in his hands. "No, the Darksaber is good. You were right. I could use some practice. And I wouldn't mind getting it from the best around."

Zena laughed.

"I train at dawn. See you there, metalhead." With an affectionate rap of her knuckles on his helmet, she handed Din back the staff. "I've got work to do. Perhaps Her Majesty could finish the tour."

She bowed toward you with a dubious smile and exited the sparring grounds, leaving you alone with Din. You walked down the stairs and met him in the center of the ring, the power of the Darksaber leaving your skin vibrating slightly with its intensity.

"So, did it work?" Din asked, his tone level and unreadable.

"Did what work?"

"Did I impress you."

You couldn't suppress the shy smile that danced across your lips. "The Darksaber certainly did."

It wasn't the answer Din had hoped for, but he'd broken your silence, which was enough for him. Without Zena around to watch you, he felt a bit more emboldened to pursue your fleeting smile.

"Give me your hand," he said, voice still serious.

"Why?"

"Just--" He didn't wait. Din grabbed your left hand and placed the Darksaber in it, wrapping your fingers around it with his own. "Point it away from your face. And anything else you value. Then press right here when you're ready."

The Darksaber was in your hand. You stood frozen in shock, unsure of what to make of this gesture. Din was putting his most valuable, and most controversial, possession under your control.

"Go on. I know you want to."

"Are you sure I'm allowed to?"

Din shrugged. "I don't really care. I didn't ask for the thing."

You took a deep breath and then held your arm out from your side, worried you would accidentally slice your own leg off. But Din was right. You wanted to. Another breath and then--

Vroom. The shaft of the saber extended from its hilt with a jolt and you took an involuntary step back. The glow was even brighter up close, and if you listened carefully you could hear the crackle of electricity. You weren't sure why you'd expected it to be heavy, it seemed such a heavy object, carrying the weight of a people and a planet within it. But it wasn't.

Din stepped behind you, you thought to get out of the way of your swing, but then he placed a hand on your hip, showing you how to plant your feet and stabilize you. The left reached out and wrapped around yours.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice soft and guiding in your ear. Oh Maker, he was so close that you could feel his beskar armor against your back. The hand on your hip was gentle but strong, grounding you not to the floor but to him. You couldn't speak so you nodded in reply.

Din brought your hand up to your opposite shoulder and then guided it into a swift slash across your body, leaving a flash of white light in its wake that seared your eyes. The air sparkled, electrified. A gasp escaped your mouth at the sheer amount of power you held. But only one thought entered your mind.

"Can I cut something in half?"

Din laughed, in awe that this was your only request. "Sure, as long as it isn't me. Remember to balance yourself in your hips. Keep your feet planted. And maybe use two hands this time."

He released you and you stepped across the grounds toward one of the sparring dummies. Din watched, and though you walked gingerly, a bit wary of the saber, you held your head high. You were more powerful than you thought.

"Sorry, bud. This is for a good cause," you addressed the motionless dummy. Plant your feet, balance in the hips, and two hands on the hilt. Check, check, check. Draw back and slash. The Darksaber sliced straight through the sack of hay and sand, spilling its guts across the floor.

You squealed in delight. "Oh Maker, I think I could get used to this."

The beaming smile on your face lit the world on fire. Din found himself staring not at the mess you'd just made but at your expression of pure joy, glowing white from the light of the Darksaber. He wanted to make you feel like that all the time, he realized.

---

"What are the people like on Mandalore?" you asked, guiding Din around the palace library. It was quiet today, especially between the stacks, as everyone seemed to be enjoying the good weather outside.

Din sighed, unsure how to answer the question. "They need help. But they're stubborn and won't ask."

"Sounds familiar," you said and Din laughed in response. You wished you could see his face at times like these when the conversation flowed easily and he let you tease him.

"You know, some people on Mandalore don't even believe you're real."

"They don't?"

"They think you're a figurehead. A distraction from the real people in charge. That you only show up to make appearances at official functions."

It wasn't that surprising for you to hear. You rarely left the palace and never left the planet. But there was another reason you suspected their disbelief.

"I think I know why," you said.

Din's silence urged you to continue.

"Meet me outside the palace. At four. I'll show you."

When Din stood at the grand doors of the entrance to the palace, he thought for a moment you had forgotten about him up. He was looking for the regal version of you, the version where you wore your extravagant robes and were surrounded by guards. That is not the version that appeared.

Instead, you were dressed modestly, having abandoned your synthsilk robes for brown linen pants. A dark green cape was wrapped around your shoulders, the hood hiding your face, but the heat signature on Din's visor was clearly yours. The transformation was astounding.

Din bowed as you approached. "Your Majesty," he addressed you.

"Stop that, you'll give me away. You should use my real name."

Your real name? He hadn't yet been offered the privilege of that knowledge, and it embarrassed him to discover what an intense reaction the thought of it elicited from him. His heart rate picked up erratically and he thanked the Maker for his helmet to hide the blush on his cheeks.

You leaned in, beckoning with a finger for him to come closer, and whispered to him in a soft voice. Your name. Your real name. It was a beautiful secret, a name all for himself to possess and wrap around his tongue. It suited you, Din thought.

He repeated it back to you, testing out its weight. You liked the way the syllables rolled around his mouth, even through the modulation of his helmet.

"Come on, we'll start at the market first. I have forty hard-earned credits to spend."

Din trailed behind you through the late afternoon crowds, weaving this way and that over bridges and around stalls. There was no way Din would have been able to find his way around, but you knew the place like the back of your hand, following the paved stone paths, recognizing your favorite shopkeepers, and pointing out the best spots.

Once fully immersed in the throng and away from any guards who may have recognized you, you let your hood fall from your head, tilting your face toward the sun and smiling contentedly. Though your face was no different than it always was, you had changed somehow. No one recognized you or even gave you a second glance, other than perhaps to admire the beauty of the sunlight reflecting from your untamed hair. At least, that's what Din was staring at.

And finally he understood, that beneath it all you weren't just a queen, you were any other person who could blend in with the crowd. He was jealous. He wanted to disappear like that.

"Keep up, Mando," you said, and reached out behind you to grab his hand. You did it to prevent him from getting swept up and lost to the swarms of people, but his heart fluttered at the intimacy and ease of the interaction as you pulled him closer.

"Why are there so many people?" he mumbled into your ear as you paused at one of the stalls to take a look.

"Tomorrow's the fertility festival. After the last day of planting the year's crops, everyone celebrates and prays for good yields. The city will be even more packed tomorrow, so the market prepares for the influx of people." You moved on, dragging Din along behind you. "But today is really the day to come. Fewer people and a better selection."

Selection of what? Din almost asked until you pulled him to a stop. Somehow, you were back at that stall Din had noticed during his first trip here, the one with the delicious smelling food that he'd been in too much of a hurry, and too poor, to buy. Din lingered behind you, eyeing the small pastries and steaming bowls of...something. He wasn't exactly sure what. But it still smelled just as amazing as he remembered, even through the filtered sterile air of his helmet.

"I'll take three of those," you said, pointing at the largest pastries on the top row of the display. The woman running the stall silently slid them into a paper bag, completely oblivious to your identity. You loved the liberating feeling of not having anyone call you by your title or even recognize who you truly were.

"And for the Mandalorian?" the woman asked, glancing slightly nervously at Din's hulking shape hovering just behind you.

You turned toward him. "Are you super hungry or just really hungry?" you asked with a grin.

"Oh, no thank you. I can't afford that."

You pulled a stack of credits from your pocket and handed them over, completely ignoring his comment. "We'll take two more fruit pastries and two of the vegetable ones, thank you."

And then you were off again before he could protest, guiding him further away from the palace and into the market. From the top of a bridge, you flagged down one of the canal taxis, stepping down the bank as it slowed to a stop.

"Now where are we going?"

You didn't respond, just pointed at the flat-bottomed boat, indicating for Din to get in. He did as he was told, jumping in easily, and you moved to follow, sitting on the edge of the stone wall to reduce how far you'd have to jump. But Din stopped you with his hands on your hips, lifting you easily with his arms into the boat so that you wouldn't have to jump.

"Where to?" the helmsman said.

You pointed along the canal in the direction opposite of the city. "Just follow on up that way."

"Lady, you're going to hit marsh. I can't go that far without my boat bottoming out."

"Just go until you can't anymore."

The taxi maneuvered up the canal, at first following the stone walls that lined the waters edge. Soon, however, they turned to grass as you left the boundary of the city, the market fading slowly behind you. The man was right. The canal quickly became more of a creek, marsh grasses and reeds growing up around you.

"This is as far as I can take you. Not sure why you'd want to be here, but I'm not coming back so good luck."

How kind. Din helped you out of the boat, a bit wary of your strange plan. There couldn't have been anything out here. But you were scrambling onto the grassy embankment, paper bag of food in tow, and he followed diligently behind.

"I'm starting to think you're a bit crazy," Din teased. He'd roughed it before, and this was by no means roughing it, but he hadn't expected this from you.

"I know what I'm doing, Din. Just follow me."

The ground leveled out, marshes to one side of the creek, a smattering of trees on the other. The two of you walked along the shrinking stream of water, a soft blanket of grass beneath your feet, until you found what you were apparently looking for.

"When I was a kid, I would hide out here. No one could find me."

Din wasn't surprised. The small clearing was absolutely secluded from the rest of the world, the city skyline was gone, the sounds of the market reduced to nothing. Around him, the chirping and croaking of wildlife was the only noise besides the rushing water of the shallow stream. The air was warm today, warmer than it had been in a while, and though the evening was waning, you pulled off your cape and tossed it to the ground.

Without a second thought, you plopped down on the ground next to the stream, back against a tree, and off came your shoes so you could dig your toes into the sandy bank. You opened the paper bag, fishing around for the first pastry. When Din didn't join you, you patted the ground next to you, inviting him to sit.

"You're sure we're safe?"

"Of course we're safe, Din. I know my way around my own planet."

Finally he sat, looking slightly out of place in all his beskar. But he removed his helmet when you handed him one of the vegetable pies, helping him to look a little more relaxed in these unfamiliar surroundings. He leaned back against the thick tree, looking around to better gauge his environment. You, and the planet you called home, never ceased to surprise him.

"Have you ever left?"

"Where? Nhora?"

"Yeah."

You looked up toward the sky where the sun was starting to set, casting an orange and pink glow through the clouds. But you weren't looking for the sunset. You were looking for the moons, already rising.

"There. See the smallest moon, up and to the left?" Din nodded in the direction you pointed. "It's actually the biggest, only it looks small because it's so far away. That's where I was born. But no, otherwise I haven't."

Din nodded solemly and took a bite of the pie. You weren't sure why he'd posed the question and he didn't seem inclined to explain. You watched as he chewed slowly, crumbs from the crust spilling onto his armor. And then his eyes went wide with enjoyment. The soft buttery pastry melted in his mouth, sweetness contrasting with the salty filling.

"Wow, this is delicious."

You smiled in satisfaction. That reaction was all you'd wanted all day, to see him blown away by the things you called home. He finished the first pastry in silence and then held out a hand, asking you wordlessly for another.

"I once visited a planet with no atmosphere," he said abruptly. It was surprising to hear him speak like this, freely, with no prompting. You held your tongue because it was the only way to encourage him to go on. "Then there was the planet where I couldn't stop moving unless I wanted to be someone's lunch."

He paused, thinking. "I know four languages. Aside from basic."

That one was impressive. You realized this was him opening up. Sharing. It made your heart tingle with warmth. Then Din fell into silence, indicating it was your turn.

"I can fly an x-wing," you said after a moment of thinking. "Not very well. But in a pinch. And I've never punched anyone, though I really want to punch that Angor prince sometimes."

"You can try it out on me."

"I think I'd rather not break my hand on your armor," you said with a laugh. What else? "I'm twenty-six years old."

Din took a deep breath. "I don't know how old I am. Maybe thirty-nine. Or forty."

"You look older than that."

Din glanced at you to gauge if you were joking. You were, in fact, joking, a big smile filling the round apples of your cheeks, mouth full of flaky pastry. "Alright, very funny. Your turn."

"I--" Where did you want to take this conversation? Din's presence next to you made you feel comfortable and warm and something about that inclined you to dig deeper, let him in a little more. "I don't know who my father was. Or is, I guess."

Din let out a quiet breath beside you. You were both watching the sunset, not one another, but you didn't have to see his face to feel comforted by his presence. "My parents are definitely dead if that makes you feel any better. No doubt about that."

The admission was a difficult one for him, and he was glad you didn't press any further. But then suddenly your hand was on his leg, gripping his knee tightly and telling him to be quiet.

"What's wrong?"

"Shh!" For a moment Din thought you were in imminent danger, but then he saw no alarm on your face, only excitement. "Don't move," you whispered.

The final light of the sun had dimmed, leaving you surrounded by a deep blue twilight. And yet, you still managed to spot the creature, sitting on a rock across the stream from you. You stood as quietly as possible, moving slowly so as not to scare it away. Without bothering to roll up the legs of your pants you stepped barefooted into the shallow stream, the cool water rushing around your ankles, not yet warmed by the sun of the warming season. But a little cold water wasn't going to stop you from catching the small creature.

Din watched as you bent over slowly and then snatched as quick as lightning, grabbing at something sitting on a rock. When you stood, triumph on your face, he nearly laughed. "What is that?"

"It's a glow frog, remember?"

Of course, he remembered. The animal you'd compared Grogu to. You were grasping the frog firmly but gently, holding it up for Din to see. It was a comical sight, a woman normally so regal and queen-like, shin-deep in marsh water, wild animal in her hands.

"So is the glow part just for kicks or..." The frog was not living up to its name. No glowing in sight.

"Just wait. It takes a second." The sun had fully dipped below the horizon now, the light from the three moons overhead the strongest source in the night sky. But then it happened. The small creature in your hands began to illuminate, green and fluorescent. It started slow, almost imperceptibly, until it shown bright, casting its glow across your face.

And you were right. The resemblance was uncanny. The frog opened its wide mouth, eyes large, and it croaked, surprising you enough into dropping it back into the water. You giggled, and suddenly Din spotted the youthful shine reappearing on your face the way it had the other night in the kitchen.

"They respond to pressure, releasing a chemical when you surprise them. I used to catch them all the time out here. The only downside is this," you said, holding up your hands which now fluoresced as well.

"That doesn't seem healthy."

"Oh, its fine. Look, it just washes off." You rinsed your hands in the water, the green fluorescence washing downstream, most of it coming off, though not all. When you pushed the hair out of your face with a wet hand, you left green glowing streaks behind on your cheeks. You glittered in the moonlight.

Din had never seen you so happy. What happened to you?

"What did you say?"

Oh Maker, he'd said that out loud. He hadn't meant to. And he could tell by the fallen look on your face that you had definitely heard him, only wanted him to repeat it to be sure. Din regretted the words immediately, watching as the joy faded from your face.

"Nothing. Forget it." But it was too late.

You waded back across the stream, a sudden chill running through your body as the night air cooled. You sat heavily, pondering the implications of actually opening up to the man next to you. You'd spent so long trying to bottle up how you felt, pretending it didn't exist, pretending you weren't attracted to him, that the tender gesture of Din replacing your cape around your shoulders forced it all out in one go.

Once you started speaking, you couldn't stop. And he listened.

"I was seven when the Clone Wars finally came to an end. It was a...brutal, destructive end. After my grandmother died, my grandfather came back to visit sometimes. He promised to protect us, even though it went against our customs. Something about Mandalorian creed. I'm sure you understand," you said, gesturing vaguely in Din's direction. "But Nhora seemed safe from the war. I was still living on Lunar Post 3 with the rest of the kids from noble families. It was easier like that, educating us all together in one place."

You took a breath, coming to the hard part.

"I had an older sister, Tia. She was so...perfect. I looked up to her. She was going to be queen and even though she was eleven years older than me she treated me like the only star in the sky." Tears pricked behind your eyes but you kept going, kept yourself steady by gazing up at the sky. "She and my mother came to visit for my birthday. It was the last trip she would make before her coronation. But everything went wrong. I don't remember it well, but when the explosions hit there was no one there to protect us, not the guards, and especially not my grandfather. The first one killed my mother. Tia died in the second, shielding me.

"The blasts were meant for me and the other noble children, the second borns, the replaceables, the one's who could be eliminated and then played like a bargaining chip to force my mother's hand to help the Independent Systems. I didn't understand. I'll never understand. I was too young. But instead they took out the royal line and left only me. And so began eleven years of non-stop training for a position I was not born to have. I wanted to escape so badly, to any planet as long as it wasn't this one, just to mourn them even. But this was all I had," you said, gesturing to your surroundings.

Din was silent, unsure what to say, but you were grateful for that. You preferred silence anyway.

"The scars have healed with time. Maybe one day they'll be gone."

"Emotional scars never heal," Din finally said. He was watching you, one knee propped up to support his elbow as he leaned against the trunk of the tree.

"Well, that's true, but I don't mean emotional scars. I mean physical ones."

"But you're so... well, you're so whole, so undamaged." He was thinking about your soft hands and how smooth they'd been on his face.

"That's not true. I have scars."

Din narrowed his eyes, prompting you to continue.

You shrugged your cape off again and started to unbutton to top buttons of your shirt. You had nothing to prove to this man, didn't need to do anything to earn his respect. And yet you wanted to show him the most vulnerable parts of you.

"You don't have to--"

You yanked the collar of your shirt down, effectively shutting him up, and putting the scar that sliced along your clavicle on full display. "Here's where the first blast hit."

Then you turned away, kneeling with your back to Din, and fully unbuttoned your shirt, letting it slip from your shoulders and gather at your waist to show him the second scar, another long slice that curved around your right shoulder blade. Both scars were old, softened and faded over the years from having grown much bigger than when they were inflicted. They no longer hurt to touch, though the searing pain of the memories was still there.

"How..." Din couldn't finish his sentence. He was too preoccupied with the sight of your bare back, smooth except for the line that hinted at the intense trauma from your past. And the scars were beautiful; you were beautiful. He realized with a shudder that you were now naked from the waist up, giving the marsh a show he'd been thinking of catching a glimpse of for a while now.

You heard Din move, heard him shift and lean forward, felt his warm presence behind you. You wondered momentarily if he would touch you and found you liked that thought.

You didn't feel him reaching out until a single finger touched your back gently, gliding along the path of your scar and sending a shiver down your spine. The goosebumps that followed his touch did not go unnoticed by either of you. You looked back over your shoulder, watching Din from the corner of your eye as several waves of emotions washed over him, pity, sadness, horror, fascination, admiration. But he couldn't seem to pull his hand away, ungloved, from the skin on skin contact.

"Do you miss your family?" His question was asked in barely a whisper.

"I don't really remember them anymore." It was difficult to admit that you had mostly forgotten what your mother and sister looked like.

"You can miss something you don't remember having." Din was right, of course, though he'd said it absentmindedly, thinking of his own family. His fingers were still tracing along the skin of your back, up your vertebrae, across your ribs. Something else had taken control of his hand, like he didn't know what he was doing anymore, unaware of his movements.

You could have stopped him. Brought him back from wherever his mind was floating up in space. But you didn't. You leaned into his touch, consenting to the reassurance of his presence. You let Din wrap his arm around your waist, place his warm hand against your bare tummy, and pull you in.

He didn't know what compelled him to hold you like this. He'd never wanted to touch anyone this way before. But you leaned into him, your body melting against his, a contented hum spreading through you and into the big hands that held you, and it felt like a piece of him he hadn't even known was missing had been returned to its rightful place.

It was oddly serene, this position of being encompassed by someone so much bigger than you. But he was hot against your naked skin, insulating you from the night air. He pressed his face against your neck, breathing you in, lips barely grazing your skin, and you thought you could sit like this forever, protected, safe, warm.

He didn't try to grope you, didn't try to get a peek at whatever you might look like from the front. It was intensely comforting, knowing that he respected you, knowing he wouldn't take advantage of you the way so many other men tried to do. He only wanted to inhale your scent and never let go of this feeling he had no name for. It was a feeling he'd only ever felt once before, while holding the kid for the last time, knowing he had to say goodbye. Neither of you wanted to move.

The sounds of the world melted away and it was only you and Din and his breath against your skin. You had no idea how long you stayed that way.

"We should go," you whispered. "Before someone realizes I'm gone."

Though reluctantly, Din pulled away, that all-encompassing warmth gone, and he helped you dress. He'd barely even seen you, barely even touched you, and he was craving more. He wanted to be linked to you forever, to hold your hand the way you had in the market, to kiss you. He'd never done any of it before and yet he knew without a doubt you were the person he wanted to be with. He just needed to know you felt the same.

"You don't have to do alone," he said, hoping you would understand what he was offering.

"Excuse me?" You turned back to look at him but the helmet was already on and you couldn't tell what he was implying underneath it.

"Rule. You don't have to rule alone. I know you can. I've seen you do it. But you don't have to."

You stood, suddenly feeling exposed though fully dressed again, like the Mandalorian had just read your mind and discovered every feeling that swirled around in there.

"Don't you dare tell me what I do or don't have to do, Djarin," you said sharply. But your voice cracked with suppressed tears."There are traditions to follow, customs I have to abide by. This is my place."

The words were harsh, more defensive than they should have been and you regretted saying them the moment they left your mouth. But Din had recognized in you what you truly wanted, to not be alone anymore, to have a family again, and it scared you.

"Are you afraid of heights?" he asked unexpectedly, standing as well.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your words still laced with annoyance and defiance. You were still feeling defensive, but now you were equally as confused.

He repeated the question and you shook your head slowly. What was he planning?

"Good, I'm tired of walking," was all he said before he wrapped his arms around your waist, powered up his jetpack, and shot straight up into the air. Somehow, you managed not to vomit at the sudden change in altitude. But Maker, you were flying, and incredibly fast.

One moment you were frozen in shock and the next you were screaming, your voice lost to the wind that pummeled your face. You hid your face in the crook of Din's next, holding on tight. No, you weren't afraid of heights, but that wasn't the problem here. The problem was you felt like you were going to fall at any moment, no matter how tightly Din held you.

But it was a short flight. You landed less than gracefully at the front doors of the palace, stumbling like you'd just stepped off a boat. Din caught your elbow and righted you.

"Dank farrick, Din! You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry. You were spiraling. I had to do something."

You realized he was right. The shock of adrenaline coursing through your body had completely distracted you from the emotions you had been overwhelmed with only a couple of minutes ago. But now they started to flood back, the loneliness, the fear. Why did you feel these things, but only now, with Din right next to you? Did he remind you of how hard it was to be alone, show you what you were missing? You had to get away, to be with your jumbled thoughts for a moment and collect yourself. You couldn't breathe.

"Thank you for... spending the evening with me. I--" You couldn't look him in the face, even though it was hidden behind the helmet. You didn't finish your sentence, just walked away, leaving the Mandalorian standing in the entrance to your quiet palace.

"You can't run forever." You were already halfway up the stairs when Din called out. You didn't stop, didn't turn around, just ran like the coward you were from the feelings you couldn't hide from him. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You were an idiot that couldn't tell the one good man on this maker-forsaken planet how you really felt.

In your bedroom you stripped, changing quickly into your pajamas and then curling up in bed under the covers. Maybe if you pressed your face into the pillow hard enough you could scream in frustration and no one would hear.

Din had watched as you walked, no, ran, away from him. He should have stopped you, should have told you how he felt. How did he feel, though? What words would he have to say to you, other than what he'd already said? And then what, just to have you throw his feelings right back in his face.

He didn't move until you'd disappeared from sight, only then making his way to his room. It wasn't often that Din got the opportunity to sleep without his armor on. He usually didn't feel safe enough. But here, in this palace, he pulled each piece off one by one and stacked it on the floor. Here, he could sleep in comfort, in peace, without anything to bother him--

Except that he knew he couldn't. Not when he felt there was something left unsaid. He hoped you wouldn't be asleep yet, hoped that when he saw your face he would know exactly what he wanted to say.

You didn't get the chance to scream into your pillow. Someone knocked softly at your bedroom door, disturbing your stress relief hours. You swore to the Maker, if it was Zena or one of your guards here to berate you for sneaking out again, you would actually scream, and not into a pillow but in their face.

But it wasn't Zena or a guard or anyone else. It was Din on the other side and you were wearing those damn transparent pajamas again like you knew what they did to him. But he had to focus. He had things he wanted to say. He'd caught a glimpse of the real you deep inside and he wanted it back, all for himself.

"I meant what I said." Din never raised his voice, but now he was becoming insistent. "You put so much into caring for others. But have you ever thought about accepting some help every once in a while?"

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your heart rate. Why did seeing his face like this make you so nervous? It excited you to find the Mandalorian standing patiently outside your bedroom, especially at this time of night.

"I don't need help," was all you managed to sputter out. Apparently, Din had made a stop in his room to shed his armor, the first time you'd seen him without it. You'd expected him to look smaller under it all but he still managed to fill your doorway and block your escape.

"Maker be damned, I'm trying to tell you that I want to take care of you. I'm not offering because I think you need me, I'm offering because you're allowed to need me." Din took a step forward, closing the gap between you even more. Written on his face was an urgency you'd only seen a few times before.

"I--" You didn't know what to say. I don't know how? "I can't think when you look at me like that."

"Like what?" Din's voice was low with earnest gravity.

"Like you care."

"I do care. I care a lot, but for some reason, you won't accept it." His hands found your face, holding your chin to force you to look into his eyes. "Somehow you think this is disingenuous. And I know you don't trust many people but let me be one of them."

Care. Trust. His words rattled around your brain and sent you spinning. He was so close, so warm. The world was hazy with that tingling feeling, the one that pulled you to him, made you reach out a hand to touch the dark fabric of his undershirt. You had no idea what you were doing, no control over the movement of your fingers as they took hold and dragged him closer.

"Stop running," he whispered softly, letting you pull your bodies together.

He cared. Oh Maker, he wanted you to lean on him, to give him some of the burden you carried. So you did, letting your hands find his shoulders and rest there.

"Do you trust me?" you asked in a hushed tone.

"Of course--"

"Then kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice, closing the last of the distance between you and kissing you with the same urgency that was written on his face.

You were it, the first and last. Your lips were like a siren's song, dragging Din to the depths of a passion he'd suppressed for so long, calling for him to relent to their addictiveness. He would drown in this taste until he succumbed.

Din kissed you tenderly, carefully, as if he was afraid you would disappear the moment he let go. No man had ever kissed you this way. They had all been greedy, triumphant, dominating kisses, as if you were a prize to be won, a conquest to be conquered. But Din, Din kissed like he had everything to lose and nothing to gain in return. He only pulled away when you did, breathless and panting for air, foreheads pressed together.

Your hands were still grabbing his shirt greedily as you dragged him into your bedroom. Din was so lost in capturing your lips with his again he barely noticed being pushed onto the bed until he was flat on his back with your body stacked on top of his. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing your hips flush with his, your knees straddling his waist in return, and your elbows leaning on either side of his head.

No matter how tightly he held you it wasn't enough. He needed to fit that missing piece back into the hole in his heart. But your lips were a start. It was impossible to tell where yours ended and his began and that's how he liked it.

Was this what he was missing out on his whole life? When you prodded your tongue against his lips, he let you sink deep into his mouth, moaning in response and sending vibrations through his chest and into yours. He ran his hands up and down your sides, memorizing every curve and contour, wishing the clothing that separated you two would disappear but not knowing how to make it happen.

You broke away to run your fingers through Din's hair, his really fucking soft hair, and place a kiss on the nose that was simply begging to be kissed. You'd wanted to do that for a while.

"How do you taste so good? Like heaven on my tongue," he mumbled. His words sent shivers down your spine and you pulled away to look at his face. Din's eyes were closed, heavy with bliss and experiencing the greatest pleasure of his life. Your body tingled with excitement.

"Have you never been kissed properly?" you asked teasingly. It was meant as a joke.

"Never been kissed," was his short reply, eyes still closed, a dumbstruck look on his face.

You stopped in your tracks, abruptly pulling away further and sitting up.

"What?" you asked, a bit louder than you'd intended.

Din's eyes flew open. He wasn't sure what to say. He'd thought it was obvious, considering how awkwardly unaware he was of what he was doing. "I've worn a helmet for three decades. Doesn't really aid in building romantic relationships."

Suddenly you felt like apologizing, afraid you'd forced him into something he didn't want. "Oh Maker, I'm sorry, if I'd known I would have--"

"Woah, slow down, Angel." You were speaking too fast, tumbling over your words a mile a minute. Din sat up as well, holding onto your hips to keep you straddling him, grounding you and letting you know it was okay. "Don't apologize. I want you. I need you."

Fuck, he needed you. The sincerity in his eyes and his tender use of a nickname eased your worry. But you were still unsure. What if this was some part of his Mandalorian creed, and you were breaking it? Din seemed to recognize the concern on your face, the way he always did.

"Look at me." You did. "I want this. I promise. I've dreamt about kissing you since the moment I met you. Fuck, you have no idea. I dream about holding you and touching you and making you feel good. I just--I don't know how. Tell me how."

This was...new. Uncharted territory. Men usually knew what they were doing. Or at least thought they did. Generally, they were arrogant enough to believe they were pleasuring you, even when they weren't. Never had anyone asked what you wanted. The fact that this man, the greatest warrior in the galaxy, was absolutely clueless but asking for your help, turned you on even more.

If he thought that kiss was good, you were about to blow his mind.

Din had seen naked women before. Once, he'd chased a bounty into a strip club and shackled the man as he was paying for a lap dance. But nothing could compare to you. The urgency that had dominated your kiss was gone, replaced by a deliberate craving. You guided his hands to the buttons of your shirt, urging him to take it off himself. He did, fingers grazing your skin as he slipped the item from your shoulders, leaving your heaving breasts bare before him. You were breathing rapidly and Din burned, knowing that he was the reason why.

"Tell me if you want to stop."

Din nodded, eyes roving all over you, from your face to your chest to the soft plane of your stomach. Between your breasts hung the round pendant of your necklace and he watched as it swung gently back and forth. You could tell he wanted to touch you but was unsure if he should, or how he should. So you took his hand, holding his fingers gently to place them on the soft skin of your neck.

"Follow your fingers with your lips."

At first, he was confused, but then you began to move his hand, dragging his fingers down your neck, along your collarbone, over the tender flesh of your breasts, across your hardening nipple, and down toward the hem of your pants. Din did as he was told, placing soft, open mouth kisses everywhere his fingers went. He placed his free hand on your back, stabilizing you as you leaned back to give him better access. He lingered on the soft mounds of your areolas, taking each into his mouth and sucking gently. He did it instinctually, not knowing what reaction he would receive from you, but taking immense pleasure in the moans he elicited from your mouth.

Mouth still tasting every inch of your bare skin, Din gripped your hips and flipped you around so that you were laying on the bed. He wasn't sure if it was what he was supposed to do, but it seemed like the right move. He continued to kiss you everywhere he could, meditating in the sweet floral scent that an evening spent in nature had left upon you. You nodded when he looked into your eyes, silently asking to remove your pants for you.

Maker, you were gorgeous. He took a ragged breath at the sight of you, slick with desire, all for him. You whispered his name, pulling his intense gaze away from your folds and back to your eyes.

"Watch," you said. And then you began to touch yourself, a lazy finger gathering your wetness and dragging along your slit. You let your legs fall open to give Din a better view as you pleasured yourself. With your middle finger, you found your clit and circled, easing into the satisfying feeling that you knew would build toward an orgasm. You added another finger, dipping slowly into your cunt and savoring the warmth you found there.

Din could tell you'd done this many times before, knew exactly how best to touch yourself. But now someone was watching you, intently, exploring your edges and lines with his gaze, cataloging every hitch in your breath and twitch of your stomach. He studied your patterns and movements like he did his bounties, learning what you liked, anticipating your reactions.

"Fuck," you cursed under your breath, the wicked voyeuristic sensation lighting something new in your core. What had once been your own dirty little secret you were now performing for an audience, an extremely attentive audience, and it was hot as fuck.

Din watched as your head flopped back in pleasure, a breathy moan escaping your throat, as your free hand came to your breast to pinch and twist the hard bud. Just seeing you this way, writhing beneath your own touch, was making his cock grow hard, but he wanted desperately to be the one to make you feel that way, edging you toward orgasm.

You noticed his need and grabbed his hand to replace it with your own, though not before bringing your fingers to Din's lips for a taste. He wrapped his mouth around your wetness with no reluctance, eyes sinking shut with heady desire and licking them clean.

Like heaven. He wanted you so badly, to know what every inch of you tasted like. He would have to be patient.

Everything about this was irritatingly slow, but it brought your craving for him to a new level. The urgency that had built as you worked toward your first orgasm had subsided to a dull ache without your consistent fingers, begging to be attended to. You knew you could finish yourself off, quickly and easily. But you wanted him to be the one to do. You wanted to know what it was like to unravel beneath the Mandalorian.

Din truly had no idea what he was doing and he couldn't sustain what you'd started. But he was curious, unafraid, and the acute learner in him caught on quickly. You gasped as a thick finger entered you, experimental and slow, and you grabbed onto his shoulders for both his support and your own. He added another finger, testing the velvet softness of your cunt and the ridges of your walls, filling you and stretching you in a way you couldn't do for yourself. He could get the angle right, you knew, better than your own fingers could, but it wasn't enough. You would have to show him.

You peeled open your eyes, unaware that they had even been shut in the first place, to watch him. He was taking you in with his eyes, leaving no part of you untouched by his gaze.

"Din, look at me." His eyes snapped to yours. "Like this."

You showed him how to curl his fingers, how to press his thumb to your clit at the same time. And when he did, Oh Maker, it was the sensation you'd always craved but could never perform for yourself. He filled you so well and only his fingers were touching you. A stifled cry left your lips and you gripped his shoulder harder, trying to ground yourself despite feeling like you were being lifted off into space. He leaned down, fingers still moving magically inside you, and took a nipple between his teeth, nibbling gently and soothing the searing sensation with a soft kiss before doing it all over again.

"Does this feel good, Your Majesty?" he asked against the skin of your chest, voice husky with arousal. It was utterly sinful, using your title while he was finger fucking you into oblivion.

You could barely do more than moan in response. He was catching on quickly, noticing how your hips jerked in response to the pressure on your clit and your walls clenched around his fingers when he simply curled them up and forward. You were falling apart slowly but surely, your breathing erratic, some very unqueenly curses falling from your perfect lips.

This was torture, this build-up, slow, consistent, inching. You could feel it coming, feel the heat pooling between your thighs and your pelvic floor spasming. But it was so fucking slow, like marching straight toward a cliff and not knowing when the edge would come, when the ground would fall out beneath your feet. And you loved every moment of it.

Din's face had fallen to your neck, his lips pressing heated kisses everywhere he could put them. He could feel your erratic pulse beneath his lips, the vibrations of your moans spreading through him. "Does this feel good? I need you to tell me. Tell me."

"Fuck, yes Din, don't stop. Don't-- don't do anything different. It's perfe--"

The words got stuck in your throat as you moaned into your approaching orgasm. You would cum any moment if--

And then, the edge of the cliff gave out and there was nothing beneath you but your crashing orgasm and Din's steady hand, guiding you through your pleasure. Oh Maker, the progress had been so measured and gradual you hadn't even known it was coming, but now you were falling and falling, only to be caught by Din's unyielding touch.

Din's face was buried in your neck as you came, your delicious cries breathed directly into his ear. It was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard, the sound of you fracturing into a million pieces by his hand. He cursed under his breath and you felt his words against your skin as you came down from your high, twitching and spasming.

"Are you okay, Angel?" he asked sweetly. He brushed the hair from your face to gaze deeply into your eyes, bewildered by what he'd just done to you.

"I'm more than okay," you replied with a giggle. You couldn't help the sound that bubbled up in your throat. "Come here."

You pulled at Din's shirt to drag him into a kiss and realized he was still fully clothed, the bastard. You wanted the shirt off with the rest of his clothes. You wanted nothing between you and him.

"Off. All of this off," you said, motioning to his clothes. Din complied and stood, tossing everything to the floor. You sat up onto your knees on the mattress so that you were at his eye level when he approached the edge of the bed once more. Reaching out to pull him in by his hips, you caught a glimpse of the amazing specimen before you. Broad and thick was the best way to describe him, both his shoulders and his cock. He had smooth, soft skin with hardened muscles beneath, no doubt from the taxing nature of his job, slightly tanned and beautifully scarred.

And he was hard for you. It sent a thrill up your spine to grasp gently at his thick length as he pulled you closer, lips against yours. He gasped into your mouth as he aligned his body with yours, bucking his hips involuntarily into your hand while you stroked him slowly. You took the opportunity to nibble his bottom lip, relishing in how fucking good it felt to press your skin to his. He was intoxicatingly warm, his big warm hands on your back, his big warm cock against your stomach.

"Can I ride you?" you asked against his mouth. Din groaned, eyes fluttering shut.

"I have no idea what that means but yes, please."

"Lay down." Oh Maker, it felt a little too good to tell this force of a man what to do and have him listen. But that was a feeling to be explored at another time. Now there was only fucking him into the next galaxy. You wanted to hear your name, your real name, from his lips.

You climbed across Din's lap, straddling him but not sinking onto him yet, instead letting his cock rest between your folds and tease your entrance gently. You were in no hurry, the high of your first orgasm still leaving you overly sensitive to touch, but you could tell Din was eager for release. He gripped your hips tightly as you leaned down, letting him take each of your breasts in his mouth, one by one.

When you began to grind your hips slowly against his, it took all his effort not to let the dam break right then and there. He'd gotten himself off plenty of times, even going so far as to hold back as long as he could to prolong the pleasure. But your folds were slick and warm against his twitching cock and he wasn't sure he could take the torture much longer. He needed to be inside you and he wasn't above begging.

"Are you going to take me or just fucking tease me all night?" Din huffed.

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his lips, wanting to taste his exclamations on your tongue when you finally sank your pussy around his length. And he did not disappoint. He was just as loud as you'd hoped he'd be, after finally lining your entrance with his length and easing down onto him. What you didn't expect was how good it would feel to have him inside you, your own moans mingling with his at the sensation. He filled you completely, stretching you further than his fingers had. It was slightly painful, but only in the sense that pleasure is often conflated with pain. You took him fully, feeling the head of his shaft press against the sensitive flesh of your cervix deep inside you.

Rolling your hips experimentally, Din jerked below you, trying to speed up your movements, but you wouldn't relent. With a hand on his face, thumb and fingers pressing into his cheeks, you maintained eye contact, the other hand against his chest for stability.

"Let me take care of you, Mando," you whispered with a hazy smile. He wanted so desperately to flip you over and fuck you however he pleased, but he held back, the sight of you beautiful and bare atop him mesmerizing and enthralling. The flush of your skin and the gentle bounce of your tits as you moved hypnotized him into obeying your request. He would do whatever his queen asked of him, he knew, without question.

You slowly picked up the pace, maintaining the rocking motion that dragged his cock along your g-spot and drove Din mad. He groaned and grunted beneath you, his sounds mixing with yours in the otherwise quiet bedroom. You leaned back, placing your hands flat against his thighs, and kept going, loving the way he let loose without inhibition or reserve. His hands gripped tightly at your hips, crashing you back down every time you rocked up, and you felt your second orgasm building in your core. It was now a question of who would come first. You suspected it would be Din.

It was his turn to fall apart, to lose control. You wanted him to relinquish his dignity the way you had to him. Finally, those precious words left his lips, at first a whisper and building louder, your name groaned over and over and over again. Your walls clenched at the sound and he choked beneath you at the sensation.

"Fuck, Angel, I'm gonna cum if you keep that up." You leaned forward again and noticed his eyes were screwed tight like he was holding back as best he could.

"Oh baby, that's the point. Cum for me, Din. Cum inside me, baby." The commanding words tumbled from your mouth, mixed with your shameless moans as you held back your own orgasm, wanting to clamp down around his cock as he came. With a jerk, you felt his cock twitch inside you, and Din cursed loudly with a groan. He seized your hips even harder than he had before, firmly holding you against his own as he came hard, his cum spilling deep inside you. With his heat filling you, you let go, releasing your own orgasm and contracting around his length, milking every drop.

You collapsed on top of Din with an overstimulated sob, not even bothering to pull off of his throbbing member. He wrapped his arms around your back and held you, his ragged breath in your ear slowly steadying and returning to normal.

"Fuck, that was beautiful," Din murmured. "You're beautiful. Oh Maker, you're so beautiful."

Din wasn't sure what was happening to him but he couldn't stop talking. Every thought, praises, rambling, absolute nonsense, that crossed his mind left his mouth, completely out of his control. You giggled, your own cock drunk brain unable to comprehend little else other than how sweet his soft grin was or how he had only one dimple on his left cheek.

"I'm going to just fall asleep like this if that's alright with you," Din said, rolling you over onto your side so he could pull the covers over the two of you and hold you. You giggled again as he rested his chin on the top of your head and you buried your face in his chest, letting his warmth wrap around you. "And then I'm never leaving."

Though he said the words lightly, it was difficult to ignore the finality they carried, so you deflected. "Didn't you promise Zena you would train with her in the morning?"

Din groaned at the reminder. "I did, didn't I?"

When you didn't respond, he looked down at your face. Your eyes had closed softly and your breath was deepening, sleep starting to tug at the edges of your brain. You hadn't realized how tired you were until you were hunkered down, feeling the security of Din's fingers pressed against your back, the rising and falling of his chest lulling you into a sense of safety.

Din pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, believing you to be asleep, but needing to say these next words anyway, needing to make up somehow the failures of your grandfather.

"I know I won't always be around. I can't always stay. But I'll always come back. I promise."

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 4 years ago

Text

Resol’nare - Part Nine

A/N: OH...HEY. Let’s all pretend that I didn’t just have like a three week creative crisis and just dive back in, shall we?? (I’M VERY SORRY.)

*this story will regularly be using words in Mando’a. for a good list of references click here.*

Summary: The Mandalorian arrives on Nevarro to meet with Navina again, hopefully to trade information that could be valuable to them both. But before she joins him he receives a call with some concerning information. When she does finally get there, things come to a head. Quickly.

Warnings: Language, violence

Word Count: 5k

Nevarro.

A dry wind blew across the arid lava fields, his cape whipping behind him as he focused the lens of his visor on the horizon. He had already scanned the other three directions before setting his gaze East. So far though, there was no sign of a ship or speeder anywhere. Another harsh gust of wind tore through the open landscape, accentuating its emptiness. Nothing. He sighed, changing the lens back to its default setting. Crusty flakes of ash covered clay tumbled over the cracked ground and clung to his boots. The Mandalorian hadn’t been waiting long, and Navina wasn’t late yet, but he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was wrong. Where is she?

He shifted his weight, leaning against the lowered ramp of The Promise. Pulling his comm device from his pocket, he pressed the speaker button to check that it was still operational and was met with a crackling static sound that proved it was. She just hasn’t tried to contact me. Tucking it away again, he told himself that it was only because she hadn’t landed yet, not because she was involved in any sort of trouble.

His concern hadn’t come from nowhere though, and it wasn’t entirely in regards to the woman’s safety. She can take care of herself. The prickling feeling in the back of his mind had more to do with what he didn’t know about her than what he did. And there’s a lot. Shortly after arriving on the volcanic planet, before he’d even had the chance to check in with Cara Dune, he’d received word from Boba and Fennec back on Tatooine. Curious as to what would warrant the call when he’d last seen Fett only a few days prior- Fennec had been out on one of her missions- he answered quickly, pressing the button to activate the holo screen on the ship’s main control switch.

The blue light flickered and took shape, projecting the man’s image there in the cockpit. “Fett,” the Mandalorian greeted him with a nod. “What is-”

The man’s gruff voice cut him off then, waiving the need for any pretense, which the Mandalorian appreciated. “I’ve got something you need to hear, Mand’alor.” Fett tilted his chin down, his stone solid gaze trained directly at the holo as he spoke. He continued without waiting to be asked, Fennec stepping into view beside him. “Got a hit on that name you asked about. Harsa.”

He blinked, Navina’s face flashing in his memory as she told him her father’s name. That was fast. “I thought you said you hadn’t heard the name?” He tilted his head as he asked.

“I hadn’t,” Boba confirmed. “Still haven’t.” What? “It wasn’t me who came across it, and it isn’t the father, Gavil.”

Head moving back and forth he felt nothing but confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“I came across the name Harsa on a syndicate raid, Mando.” Fennec’s clear tone filled the space as she clarified. “Ixon? The scum I was… interviewing when you were here last?” He nodded and she raised one eyebrow, a look of self-satisfaction still lingering on her face at the way she handled that quarry. “He gave up the location of a Black Sun hideout on Corellia after some light persuasion.”

“And?” He still wasn’t sure where this was headed.

“And when I got there, the place was mostly abandoned. Found a few ledgers, stolen credits.” She scoffed. “Cowards run like rats in Coronet City.”

They do. It had been a long while since the Mandalorian set foot on Corellia or Coruscant. His bounties kept him mostly within the Outer Rim, and he didn’t miss the crowded streets or the types of people they were filled with.

“I was lucky enough to catch one of them though, one of their poor excuses for bounty hunters.” She clicked her tongue. “No accuracy, no skill, and as it turns out,” she grinned. “No loyalty.” That’s why they don’t work for the Guild. “One I caught? Duros. Sang like a little bird. Told me everything I wanted to know. Including who he was working with and what he’d been hired to do.”

Though he was glad to hear that she and Fett were making more progress in cleaning up the galaxy’s garbage, he was still confused about exactly how this raid related to Navina’s name. “Fennec, I’m not sure if I-“

“Just wait,” Boba’s serious, gravelly tone was back. “We wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t worth the trouble.”

He knew that to be true. While Karga enjoyed talking just for the sake of conversation, and Bo-Katan’s routine check-ins could be used to set any clock, Boba and Fennec only made contact when absolutely necessary. Which is almost never. He leaned back in his seat, clenching and unclenching his right fist atop his thigh. “Go on.”

“Turns out this fine gentleman I spoke with had orders to plant a tracking device on a target so that his partner could hunt them down and take them out in a different location. Team job,” she explained, her eyes suddenly looking down as she fumbled with something off screen. Looking back up, she raised her hand, a bounty puck lying flat in it. “This was the target, Mando.”

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he watched her activate the holo puck, Navina’s image flickering to life, her name listed in several languages below her rotating likeness.

“Not the Harsa you were looking for, Mand’alor.” Fett inclined his head towards the puck in Fennec’s palm. “Someone’s looking for her though.”

“Any idea who?” There were endless reasons as to why someone would hire an assassin or a bounty hunter, he knew that first hand. But if he knew who it was that wanted the woman dead, he might be able to reason out the why.

Fennec let the puck go dark and lowered her hand. “Well, you see that’s where things get very interesting.” They were interesting enough already. “Ixon isn’t- wasn’t- a very high ranking member of the syndicate, so he didn’t have any names for me.” Not surprising. “But what he did say?” She folded her arms over her chest. “It was a Mandalorian that hired Black Sun.”

“A Mandalorian?” Not even the helmet could hide the shock in his tone. Aside from the fact that paying someone else to do their killing for them was not at all the Way of the Mandalore, it was as unnecessary as one of his kind hiring a personal bodyguard. “Why would a Mandalorian need to hire an assassin?” They wouldn’t. Navina may be a skilled fighter, but the simple fact that she was not entirely covered in beskar put her at an extreme disadvantage when it came to fighting someone that was. Especially if she didn’t even know it was coming.

“An excellent question,” Boba nodded. “And one I think you know the answer to.”

“Discretion.” Whoever it is doesn’t want anyone knowing it was them. Most people contracted their dirty work out because they were incapable of doing it themselves, but he knew that there were others who were just seeking to keep their own hands clean. A sudden thought materialized and immediately took the form of a question. “Are all of our people accounted for there?”

He needed to know if this was an isolated incident; if Navina had garnered this target on her head because of choices she had made, or because of who and what she was...and who she knew. He needed to know if the rest of the covert, the rest of his kind, were safe or if whoever was hunting her down was also tracking other Mandalorians. Perhaps most importantly though, he needed to know if he had to be suspicious of anyone within the covert’s walls. Mandalorian history was full of infighting, different sects and cells with varying beliefs and loyalties often waging war on one another to claim more power and reputation. I won’t let that happen under my watch.

“Just talked to the princess herself, Mand’alor.” Fett grumbled, his upper lips pulling into the snarl it seemed he reserved specifically for Bo-Katan. “According to her, everyone is safe and she’s called for a full sweep of the facility to be sure there are no threats to your growing hive.”

Relief washed through him, and he was glad not only that Bo-Katan and her people were there to keep the others safe, but that at least for the moment it seemed that this was more a matter of personal vendetta against Navina Harsa and not against Mandalorians or their allies in general. It was short lived however, Fennec chiming in once more to remind him that the tracking device was likely still active if Navina hadn’t already been found and killed. “If they haven’t found her yet, Mando… she might be leading whoever is looking for her straight to you.”

He had ended the transmission thanking Fett and Shand for calling with the warning, hoping that Navina would arrive soon and that he’d be able to find and disable the tracker before it caused trouble for him. Or costs her her life. Though his first thought had been that she could be a danger to what he was trying to do for the Mandalorian people, his next line of thinking went in another direction. What if she was targeted because she’s meeting me? What if just knowing me, talking to me was what… Another fact about Mandalorian history that he had learned since becoming the owner of the Darksaber and the title that came with it, was that while the majority of Mandalorians accepted the wielder of that sword to be their rightful ruler, there would almost always be outliers in opposition who would see a different Mand’alor on the throne. He sighed, wondering if it would get worse once they had actually begun to retake the planet, when the throne was even more tangible and real and tempting. One thing at a time.

Scanning the landscape one more time, he tapped the button on the side of his helmet to cut through the hazy fog that hung low over the volcanic ground. At first he saw nothing, but then a wave of air was displaced overhead, and looking up he saw a small ship, maybe half the size of The Promise, beginning its landing maneuvers. That must be her. Tipping his head back, he watched as the craft wobbled upon entry into Nevarro’s atmosphere before the reverse thrusters were engaged, the hull of the ship leveling out, its descent slowing as it got closer to the ground to give him a clear look at the vessel. Dank farrik.

He was immediately reminded of the Razor Crest after he’d trusted the Mon Calamari dockhand on Trask to repair it following the crash landing on Maldo Kreis. Not that I had much of a choice then. Couldn’t get off the platform the way it was. He wondered if there hadn’t been similar circumstances for the woman and her ramshackle ship. There were outer panels that flapped where they lifted away from the rivets that were supposed to hold them in place, shoddily executed patchwork and second hand replacement parts making it almost impossible to imagine what the ship may have looked like when it was new. If it ever was. Cocking his head to the side as the engines powered down, he wondered if it wasn’t something that Navina or her friend had cobbled together themselves from spare scraps of retired ships.

There was another disturbance overhead, the hot air moving as though another ship were trying to cut through to land, and he shook all thoughts of her ship’s provenance and original model number away. He needed to stay vigilant, be on the lookout for whoever it was that was following Navina. The airlock hissed as she lowered the ramp on her ship, the steel plank stuttering jerkily as it dropped then freezing its motion with a grinding sound just shy of reaching the ground.

“Kriffing piece of-” He heard a metallic thunk that he would have wagered anything on had been made by her boot striking the mechanism that operated the entrance ramp, the door groaning on its fastenings as it plunged down to close the distance. “There.” Swinging her braid with a huff, the woman appeared in the opening. She wasn’t wearing any of her armor, her bulging bag slung across her body. He did notice the sunlight glinting off of the kal at her waist and recognized the shape of the blaster strapped to her thigh beneath the gray shawl she wore though, the woman seeming to put more stock in being well armed than well armored. In her case, it made sense, and he realized that if she did know someone was after her, she would only stick out more if she was wearing the beskar helmet and the thin plates she’d collected over the years.

Hopping down from her ship, a cloud of ash rising as her boot soles hit land, she waved one arm and called out. “Hey there, Mando.” Turning, she hoisted the ramp up manually and gave it a forceful shove to slam it shut.

In the same instant that the hefty door clicked to lock, the enhanced audio receiver in his helmet picked up another distinct noise; the nearly silent sound of a ship entering the atmosphere. The tracker. Snapping his attention skyward, he adjusted his visor lens and located the incoming gunship. It’s weapons already charged from what he could see, it would be within shooting range in a matter of seconds. Eyes flicking down to the woman still struggling to close the ramp, he realized that she hadn’t noticed the very imminent danger that she was in. And he didn’t have time to warn her.

Acting on instinct alone, he lunged forward extending his left arm and deploying the whipcord from his vambrace. She turned to face him as the cable wrapped around her body, eyes widening in shock as the restraint tightened to trap her arms against her sides. Sorry.

“What the-“

Her assumed string of swears and expletives was cut short by the zip of the line as he swiveled his wrist, the mechanized cord reeling itself back in. Overhead, a dark shape hovered above the clouds. Navina finally glanced up as the hum of the attacking ship’s guns announced their intent to fire. The expression on her face as she looked back down at him was a mixture of confusion, anger, and fear, adrenaline pulsing from her that he could almost feel himself. Hang on.

Again, there was no time to warn her before he acted, punching his fist hard to pull Navina as far from where she stood as possible. She nearly flew through the air to close the distance, the Mandalorian whipping his body around just in time to stop her momentum by throwing his arms wide and catching her in them. The instant he had a solid grip on her, he bent his knees and pushed off from the ground, jetpack igniting and lifting them both out of harm’s way just as red blaster fire streaked through the sky to hit the ship that she’d been aboard only minutes before.

He didn’t look back, focused instead on locating the enemy, already grabbing for one of the thermal detonators attached to his belt. But he didn’t need to look back to know the exact second that the enemy’s blast hit, her body stiffening noticeably as the explosion engulfed her ship, the sound of her incredulous gasp close to his ear. He didn’t need to see it on her face to understand what she was feeling. I hope there wasn’t anything… He recalled the moment he had found Grogu’s ball in the rubble where the Razor Crest once stood. I hope nothing she cares about was destroyed.

Shaking those thoughts from his head, he rose higher until he was close enough to one of the ship’s engines to toss the detonator into the turbine. Reaching down, he unbuckled another two of the spherical explosives, shoving them in after the first before diving back towards the ground. He hadn’t been able to retaliate right away when Grogu was abducted and his ship, their home, decimated. But I can now. His weapons ignited, tearing the engine to shreds and causing the ship to drop like a lead weight, falling hard and gaining speed.

The heat at his back as they plummeted was satisfying, but his thoughts quickly returned to the woman in his arms as they both touched down on the ground. Bracing for the impact of the destroyed ship’s impending crash, he tucked her head against his shoulder. Tilting his head down, he shielded as much of her with as much of himself as possible, widening his stance to lower his base as the ground rumbled underfoot. Charred debris rained down, a few smaller pieces bouncing off of his armor like fiery hailstones, and he kept her sheltered until he heard and felt them stop falling. As soon as it was clear, he released her, stepping back once he was sure that she was steady on her feet.

“Are you hurt?” He knew that he needed to check the ship’s wreckage to see if the assailant was still alive. But he wanted to make sure that she was physically alright before he did.

Mouth agape and expression completely stunned, she took a breath and then another, staring at the space where she’d landed her ship and seeing only a burnt out crater in its place. “I...I’m...no.” She answered, blinking rapidly before giving him a quick shake of her head. “You… how did you-”

Now’s not the time. Without another word he pushed off from the ground again, flying through the smoke plumes towards the torn and twisted remains of the enemy ship’s cockpit and main hold. Looking through the windshield, he saw the slumped form of a man in dark goggles, the tell tale tattoo marking him as a Black Sun member visible on his neck above the collar of his shirt. From what the Mandalorian could tell, the man was still breathing, simply unconscious, and the lack of movement among the rest of the wreckage paired with the absence of a second body in the co-pilot’s chair led him to believe that this was a solo operation. It usually is. He could count on one hand how many times he’d hunted with a partner, and he knew that most bounty hunters and assassins worked that way, too.

Finding the hatch to open the cockpit, he tried to peel it open but it wouldn’t budge, the hinges bent and damaged in the crash. Swearing under his breath, he drew his blaster and shot three times at the lock until the door fell inward. Kicking his boot down through the door, he opened it fully, dropping into the ship to extract the man who had just fired on Navina. In another circumstance, he may have let the man suffer the consequences of his actions and let fate decide whether he walks away from the flames. But then he’d be loose on Nevarro. If this trouble was somehow linked to him, which it was, because Navina was only there to meet with him, then he owed it to Cara and Karga and all of the people there to clean up his mess. And I’m sure Fennec will have questions for him. Slinging the tall but thin man over his shoulder, the Mandalorian climbed back out through the opening he made for himself, jumping from the top of the wreckage. The jets strapped to his back roared to life and he ascended as a fuel tank exploded right below him. That was close.

His next priority was checking that The Promise hadn’t suffered any damage. The blast seemed to have been a direct hit, so he wasn’t overly concerned. But it’s my only way out of here and it’s… He frowned as he landed. It’s not home but it’s… He sighed. It doesn’t matter. The ship was fine, far enough away that it hadn’t even been hit with any rubble or debris. Good. He dropped the man he was carrying in an unceremonious heap, an audible crack coming from his arm as it made contact with the hard ground, ignoring it as he turned back in the direction he’d left Navina in.

She was walking cautiously through the field of burning metal, her face streaked with soot and her blaster drawn. As soon as she saw the man crumpled at the Mandalorian’s feet, her face pulled into an angry scowl. “Kriffing scum!”

She coughed as she inhaled the thick smoke, and he realized that if not for the filter in his helmet he would be having the same difficulty breathing. We should get inside. She stumbled closer, and he could see the shake in her hand as she pointed her weapon at the figure on the ground. Don’t- He was about to reach for her to stop her from shooting the man, despite how badly he knew that she must have wanted to. She didn’t make him do that though, opting instead for a swift, hard kick as she stowed her blaster. Lifting her eyes up to the eyeline of his visor, she shook her head. “How did you kn-”

Another cough cut her short, and he flipped open the cover on his vambrace, tapping in the code to unlock and lower the ramp. “Go inside,” he shook his head and gestured at the black smoke. “You shouldn’t breathe this in. Go.”

He stooped down to lift the unconscious assassin from the ground, hoisting him over his shoulder again and followed Navina up the ramp into the main hull. As soon as he was in, he punched the switch on the wall to seal the door behind them. The air circulation system kicked in with a whoosh as the airlock clicked shut, and before he said anything else, the Mandalorian opened the locker where he kept three slabs ready at all times. Shoving the limp man into the frame of the slab, he held down the button that released a gust of super chilled carbonite to freeze his captive, then shut him away in the locker for transport to Tatooine. He’ll answer for what he did. He was certain that Fennec would squeeze every drop of information out of him and then make him sorry that he ever agreed to work for the Black Sun.

“Hey.” The curtness in her tone made him wince as he turned to face her, but it was understandable. “Are you going to tell me how you knew that was going to happen?” She crossed her arms defensively and he could tell that she was trying to keep her composure.

“I was tipped off by one of my people.” He nodded at her. “I had asked about your father, but they came across your name instead.” Pulling a device from the cabinet below the weapons locker, he went on. “Found a bounty puck on you in a syndicate hideout, and found out that someone had you followed.” Switching the small object on, he pointed it at her bag.

Pulling the satchel away from him, she stepped back. “What are you doing?”

Lifting the device, he explained. “This will find and disable any tracking devices on you so they can’t send backup.” She still seemed hesitant, and though he wanted to be sympathetic and give her time to process what was happening, he knew that they didn’t have that luxury. “Look, I just saved your life and I don’t even know who I saved it from.” Or why someone’s after you. He recalled the way that his subconscious had convinced him to trust her the last time they were together, and though he still didn’t understand why, he felt himself leaning into it again. “So you’re going to let me check you for tracking beacons, or I’m going to make you let me.”

She swallowed, not out of fear but frustration, glaring up at him, then begrudgingly held out her bag. “Fine.”

He swept the device over it, the thing beeping loudly over one of the pockets. “There.”

“What? There’s nothing in-” She dug her hand into the pocket, then froze, pulling it back out with a tiny silver circle between her fingers. “Dank farrik, what the… how-”

The Mandalorian took it from her, dropping it on the floor and crushing it with the heel of his boot. “Someone must have slipped it into your bag while you were distracted.�� He raised the scanner once more, making sure that there weren’t any other trackers or bugs planted on her person. Satisfied that there weren’t, he stowed the scanner back where he took it from and straightened up to face Navina again.

The anger and defensiveness were gone, the woman instead displaying concern. “I need to contact Firo.” She shook her head. “That… The Flare, it… that was his ship and I…Osi'kyr! Firo. I need to make sure he’s… that he and his family are safe. What if-”

“Alright.” He held up his hands. “Alright, you can use my holo screen. It’s in the cockpit.” She pressed her lips together and nodded, clearly worried. “It… my contact? They told me that it was only your name that was on record.” If that makes you feel any better.

He didn’t wait for her to respond, simply nodding at the ladder that led to the ship’s controls. She climbed wordlessly with him right behind her, and within seconds he had the holo up and running, allowing her to make contact with her friend. If I thought the kid was in trouble I’d… need to see him, too. There were things that The Mandalorian needed to ask her, but he knew that nothing would be accomplished until her mind was put at ease over the people she cared about.

Once she was satisfied that no one else would be in the crosshairs meant for her, she apologized again to the shaggy haired, amicable man that he had seen pick her up on a stolen speeder when last he was on Nevarro. He insisted that he didn’t really care about his ship, that he was just glad that she was safe, his relief genuine. Ships are replaceable. He looked around at the switchboards and panels that surrounded him. People aren’t. His eyes fell to the vacant seat that was still waiting for Grogu to occupy it. From what she had told him last time they spoke, she knew that all too well.

As she wrapped up her call, she visibly relaxed, no longer on the verge of hyperventilation from smoke or worry, but still a little on edge. Rightfully so. Someone just tried to- a Mandalorian tried to have her killed. One of my... The idea felt wrong to even think, but he had to ask. “Navina?” Her sharp eyes locked with his, again giving him the feeling that she could see through his visor even though he knew that was impossible. “Do you have any idea who would have,” he sighed. Just tell her what you know. “It was a Mandalorian. The person who put the hit out on you? They were… Do you know why a Mandalorian would be after you?”

To his surprise, she actually let out a dry laugh. “Mando, if I kept track of everyone who… everyone that I made an enemy of I’d never get any sleep.”

He was sure that she was right, but it wasn’t what he’d asked. “That wasn’t an answer.”

She frowned, rubbing at a smudge of black ash on her forehead. “No, it wasn’t.” Looking down at her lap, she let out a breath. “I…” she clamped her eyes shut. “Yeah. There are a… a few Mandalorians who might be...who want me-”

“Tell me why.” It wasn’t a command, regardless of how it came out. “Please, tell me why. I,” he paused, wanting to be sure of his word choice so that she would understand his line of questioning. I want to make sure that no one that I am responsible for was responsible for this. As the Mand’alor, it was his responsibility to uphold peace and hand out punishment to those that would threaten it. But she doesn’t know that I’m… He wanted to trust her like his brain was telling him to. But he didn’t want to be wrong, not at the expense of the rest of the covert. She hasn’t sworn the Creed. “I want to be sure that no one in my covert, my Tribe, was behind this.”

She opened her mouth then shut it, furrowing her brow before smoothing it out again, and he knew that she was trying to be just as careful in choosing her words as he was, the two of them playing a precarious game of strategy as they got to know one another. “I’ll… I’ll tell you about the Mandalorians I’ve…” She sighed, her eyes landing on the signet on his shoulder. “I’ll tell you about the Mandalorians I’ve made enemies of, if you tell me something. Like last time.”

He thought for a beat before answering, something in the way that she was eyeing the Mudhorn crest that he wore giving him pause. But that’s how this works, right? Give information to get it? “Alright,” he agreed. “Go ahead.”

As though she’d been practicing the question since the second she pulled away on that speeder three weeks ago, it rolled right off of her tongue to fill the quiet cockpit. “Are you in possession of the Darksaber?”

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tags: @something-tofightfor @alraedesigns @pheedraws @valkblue @malionnes @gollyderek @fific7 @becs-bunker @commanderlola @greatcircle79

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