#while bo-katan has short ones

[furious-blueberry0]

Ok but what if having short hair is actually a symbolic aspect of Mandalorian culture?

Maybe it's something that just started out of necessity (keeping hair under the helmet) and then over time it acquired more and more meaning.

Maybe for mandos having short hair is like having some hidden knives, not something that you 100% need to be mandalorian, but certainly something to have just to be safe.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Gold Chain

Din Djarin x Female Mandalorian Armorer Reader

Content & Trigger Warnings: fluff, light angst, slightly jealous / possessive Din, Mandalorian culture, canon-typical swearing, reclaimed Mandalore, Din’s POV

Word Count: 4.3k

Din intended to take Grogu with him back to Nevarro after Mandalore was reclaimed. Duty kept him in the ruins of Sundari, helping Bo-Katan and the other Mandalorians in their efforts to rebuild. Over time, an Armorer from another tribe caught his eye. Din is drawn to you, visiting repeatedly. Seeing everyone else around him find happiness, Din finally decides to seek it for himself.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // fluffuary 2024 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: cyar’ika – darling / sweetheart ka’rta beskar – iron heart Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum – I love you Ori'haat – It’s the truth riduur – spouse / partner Vor entye – thank you

The Great Forge of Mandalore is not a singular forge but several.

The large, tree-like monoliths are connected to each other like the collective beating heart of the Mandalorian people. Only three of them are in use as the rest sustained damaged during Imperial aerial bombardment. Like the people they represent, the dead forges are undergoing repairs.

Soon, they will burn and build again.

It requires more than a lone Mandalorian Armorer to keep the fires lit, to shape and bend the beskar, to smelt and refine the metal, to dig into the earth and excavate the ore. For a small covert on a distant planet, one armorer is enough. The forge used is special but tiny. A drab replica of the real thing.

That is no longer the case.

Mandalore belongs to the Mandalorians again. Its people flourish. They thrive, and the urge to rebuild—not just the cities but to grow as a people—is an innate, desperate need felt by all. It is a pounding, driving force like the beat of ceremonial drums.

The air should ring with the sound of a hundred hammers. Foundlings and younglings should be roaming freely, their shouts of joy floating in the breeze. The clans, while different in the ways they adhere to the Way, should be a united front.

All of this deserves to be true, but that is not the reality.

The air does not ring with the sound of a hundred hammers. It only rings with a few.

Foundlings and younglings are not free to roam. There are too many dangers lurking in the dark.

The clans are not a united front. There are plenty who are stuck in their ways and refuse to budge for the sake of the whole.

Some Mandalorians perceive this as a failure.

Din Djarin does not see it that way.

For him, he remembers a time when his ideas about what it meant to be Mandalorian consumed his reality. His covert and their principles were the only thing that mattered to him. The urge to adhere to that life was severe to the point that Din pushed other Mandalorians away.

He no longer holds to those strict ideals. Every Mandalorian here and elsewhere are important to him. Every foundling. Every youngling. Every clan and tribe. All of it.

They deserve to be protected.

They deserve to live on.

They deserve to endure.

That is why Din skulks in the shadow of the Great Forge like a kriffing idiot. He is looking for someone—a woman. Behind the visor in his helmet, Din observes the massive room. The Mandalorian Armorer from his tribe stands near one of the forges. Several helmeted younglings surround her in a short half-moon. They hang on her every word while in her hands is a raw piece of beskar that she turns end over end.

Din is not here for her. He is searching for you, and you are always here. You, who has been on his mind these last few months.

His gaze rolls past the Armorer, finding you near a mountainous pile of beskar. Like the Armorer of his tribe, you are also a Mandalorian Armorer, but there are no younglings or foundlings at your feet.

Picking up a piece from the pile, you examine it, turning it over between your hands before depositing it into one of three nearby bins. Some of it is raw and untreated but there are also helmets, pauldrons, and other pieces mixed in. All of it pulled from the Mines below.

Din has never seen your face, nor does he care. He only knows what his heart wants. It is an insistently nauseating need to be close to you. Solitude and clan are comforts to Din, but they are not enough. Not like they used to be. Every day, Din watches other Mandalorians find happiness and contentment. Their peacefulness is like spice to him, causing him to wonder about what his life could be.

This idea plagues him, and it is why he comes to the Great Forge every day. To see you.

But what is today’s excuse? It’s almost always Grogu.

Din will bring him along and casually mention the importance of watching the Mandalorian Armorers work their craft. At some point, Grogu will be handed off to someone, and then Din lingers near your workstation while he attempts to make conversation.

Attempt is the important word here. Small talk is a genuine failure of his. He doesn’t understand. What comes out of him is fragmented bits of conversation that don’t entirely make sense. Din is awkward, stumbles over his words, and is genuinely flustered by your presence.

Moving out of the shadows, Din ascends the stairs up to the Great Forge. The Armorer briefly glances in Din’s direction before returning her attention to the younglings. You haven’t noticed Din yet, and he takes this moment to admire you.

The armor you wear is unique and unlike anything Din has seen before. The beskar is painted black, the mid-day light reflecting off its shiny surface as you pick up another chunk of untreated ore. Around the t-shaped visor and the ka’rta beskar, is golden paint. But the focal point are the horns on the helmet.

The Armorer of Din’s tribe has horns as well, but they are small and only five in total. Yours curl out and around like Bantha horns. From the base of the bottom-most curl, thin gold chains hang down from small puncture holes in the metal. The ends rest against the fur that lines your shoulders. One of the holes is empty, clearly absent a chain.

At first, Din thought the choice odd, but it’s a nod to your people and how they revere the title of Armorer. It’s ceremonial. Not functional.

Din strides toward you, and when you finally notice his approach, you immediately place whatever you’re holding down, turning toward him. Warmth instantly blooms everywhere, rushing through Din’s limbs like the heat of Tatooine.

“Din Djarin,” you breathe, and it is a gentle sigh.

He loves the way you say his name, as if it’s a secret between the two of you.

“Armorer,” he replies, just as softly.

You laugh and Din flushes behind the helmet. He wants to hear your happiness all the time. “You can call me by my name. We know each other well enough.”

Din inclines his head but does not use your given name. It feels too personal. Too forward. This is new territory for him. He longs to draw you close but fears accidentally pushing you away.

He’s taking things slow. He’s taking things carefully. You are important to him and he doesn’t want to mess it up.

“Where is Grogu?” you ask.

“School,” Din replies instantly, knowing he cannot use the foundling as an excuse.

“That’s wonderful. Lady Kryze mentioned they were trying to put one together.”

Din shrugs. “It keeps him busy.”

“First day?”

Din nods.

“You’re nervous,” you observe.

You’re good at reading him which is startling to Din since he never removes his helmet. Your clan allows it with immediate family and one’s riduur, a fact Din is highly aware of.

“That’s normal,” you continue. “You love him. Want what’s best.”

“We’ve rarely been apart,” replies Din quietly.

“He’s safe.”

“I know.”

The two of you fall into silence and Din doesn’t know where to go from here. He almost always starts these conversations by asking if you’re in need of anything like beskar. Kriffing hell, he’ll even run errands for you. Fetch whatever you ask.

As long as it keeps him in your proximity.

“I—” he begins, cutting off quickly to try and formulate the next thing he wants to say.

“Yes?” You step closer, your arms nearly brushing.

Din is losing his nerve. You’re so close, and Din leans in a bit, pretending that this is more than what it is.

He clears his throat. “Did you need anything? Can I be of service in some way?”

You pause, helmet glancing toward the overflowing piles of beskar. “More of it comes from the Mines every day. I’ve been taking inventory as it arrives.” You sigh heavily. “I worry about the groups that descend into the Mines. I shouldn’t but it’s dangerous, and us Mandalorians are already so few.”

“Your clan helped with that,” says Din, because it’s true.

Bo-Katan had to explain it to him, that your tribe left Mandalore almost a thousand years ago. Disagreement ran rampant, and they headed for a distant planet far in the Outer Rim, nearly into the Unknown Regions. Flourishing where they landed, your people left the galaxy to its own troubles.

“I suppose we did,” you answer.

But they heard the call to return, and Bo-Katan only knew about your clan’s existence because of the Night of a Thousand Tears. They were too late to help, but they went on to save as many Mandalorians as they could, even going so far as to raid Imperial vessels and storage facilities that held beskar.

“You could help with that.”

“Yes,” he says slowly. “Anything.”

“Anything?” you ask, and Din hears the tease in it. The soft way it drops from your lips.

Yes. Anything.

“Command me at your pleasure,” purrs Din.

You clasp your gloved hands in front of you. “Your help pleases me, Din Djarin.”

He melts into the floor. Becomes a puddle. “What would you like me to do?”

You glance at the massive pile behind you. “It all needs to be sorted. Unrefined beskar goes here.” You point to the barrel on the far left. “Helmets, vambraces, or anything with wiring needs to go in that bin.” You turn toward the final bin. “Everything else goes in there.”

Din might not forge armor, but the structure and functions of it are as natural to him as breathing. He approaches the pile, begins sorting. The two of you work in tandem, and anything he’s not completely sure about, he brings to you.

The best part of this is your presence. The worst is that Din wants to talk to you but isn’t sure how. His tribe is not one for small talk, and this is excruciating to him. Din desires to hear your voice, to keep your focus on him, even if it’s a fleeting moment.

Din picks up a dented chest plate and deposits it into the correct bin. “Do you have everything you need?”

You glance up from inspecting a vambrace, looking around the area directly in your vicinity. “Yes?”

“I meant outside this.” Din extends one hand outward, indicating the Great Forge.

Slowly, you drop the vambrace into the bin next to you. “Am I missing something?”

Me, thinks Din. You’re missing me.

“Adequate food? Shelter?”

“My basic needs are met.”

Din picks up a helmet and places it into the correct bin without looking. “And beyond that?” He strides toward you, wanting to find something in your life that he could insert himself in to. Even the smallest thing is enough.

“What do you mean?”

There are so many ways to answer that. What Din truly wants to know is if there is anyone else in your life. If there is anyone else he might have to compete with for your affection. It’s not like he hasn’t subtly asked around or kept a careful eye on the other Mandalorians you speak with on a daily basis. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t missed something.

“Are you happy, cyar’ika?” The word of affection slips out without thought. Din cannot take it back.

There is a gentle shift in the way you draw back. It’s not from revulsion, disgust, or even anger. It’s only surprise. He has startled you, and Din is unsure if this will derail everything he’s tried to build.

“Yes,” you respond after a short stretch of silence. “But I could always be happier.”

Hope blooms in Din’s chest, slithering out like vines to wrap around his ribcage. He moves closer, one gloved hand reaching out, itching to touch.

“Din Djarin.”

You and Din turn abruptly.

Bo-Katan Kryze lingers near the edge of the stairs, her helmet tucked under arm. “I need to speak with you.”

Din turns back to you and your nod. Placing your hand over your heart, you bow your head. Din knows this greeting and goodbye. It’s normal for your clan to use it with people they’re close to. But then you extend your hand outward, gloved fingers lightly brushing the side of Din’s helmet before dropping away.

“Vor entye.”

Din inclines his head, stepping away from you and toward Bo-Katan. His heart pounds in his chest, the sound rattling in his ears, making the helmet seem small and claustrophobic for the first time in his life.

Din’s gloved thumb rubs up and down the small gold chain in his hand.

It’s thin enough to be a necklace, but that is not its purpose. The gold chain is a replacement piece for the one you’re missing. He discreetly asked the Armorer to make it, and she did so without question, taking great care to create an exact match to the ones you already have.

He holds it in one hand, absently stroking the material as he walks toward the Great Forge. There is no plan to hide in the shadows this time. With the gold chain clenched in his fist, Din strides forward with purpose with the intent to give it to you just like all the other gifts he’s given.

As the enters the large room, Din’s gaze first knocks the Armorer, but when he finds you, and time comes to a grinding halt.

You are not alone.

Another Mandalorian, a man that Din has seen around but doesn’t know, talks with you near one of the working forges. The armor he wears is red and faded. He stands entirely too close for Din’s liking but that isn’t what truly irritates him.

This man keeps touching you. He’s not grabbing for you or forcefully entering your space. Every movement is light and delicate. Sometimes he briefly rests his hand on your arm, waist, or shoulder. He leans in like he can kiss you through his helmet. And Din cannot tell if you’re receptive or not.

You’re not reacting. That much he can see. You do not touch back or lean in. Not like you do with Din. While that comforts him, all he knows is that someone else is pushing in and making a move into his space.

Din quickly ascends the stairs, his strides long and poundingl. The male Mandalorian shifts slightly as you glance over his shoulder before fully turning in Din’s direction. The moment he notices Din, he steps in front of you as if you need protecting.

Cold fury flares within him, igniting a path from his stomach to his head. You step around the stranger, brushing past him to reach Din.

“Din,” and your greeting is just like yesterday, breathy and soft. All that anger starts to melt away because you’re in front of him, and that is all that matters.

You come to a stop just shy of Din’s right shoulder. Gently, you rest your hand on his bicep, the part that isn’t covered by his pauldron.

Turning back to the Mandalorian in red armor, you dismiss him. “Thank you for coming by, Rhuk.”

Rhuk’s t-shaped visor is angled toward Din as he inclines his head in goodbye. “Be well, Armorer.” Din watches him go, tracking his every step until he’s down the stairs and moving away from the Great Forge.

So focused on Rhuk, it takes you three firm squeezes of Din’s arm to draw his attention away.

“Did you bring me something?” you ask, glancing down at his hand.

Din opens it, presenting the small gold chain. You glance up quickly.

“It’s a replacement,” says Din, nodding toward the side of your helmet with the missing link.

You’re hand automatically reaches up, fingertips lightly brushing against the empty spot. It hovers there briefly before falling to Din’s open palm. With gentleness, you slip your fingers under the gold chain.

“Would you like to attach it?” you ask, your helmet tipping upward. Even with it on, Din feels your eyes on him, assessing.

“Is that okay?”

You turn toward a collection of tools. Heading toward it, you select a tiny torch and bring it back to Din.

“Use this,” you offer the torch to him and he takes it. “Slide the chain through and weld it like the others.”

Turning to your left, you present the side of your helmet. Din tucks the base of the torch into his belt. With both hands, he hooks the end of the chain into the hole, pushing it through, guiding it until it sits equal on both sides. Removing the torch, he starts it, turning it to the lowest setting. Din switches, changing the angle of the torch from one side to the other, slowly fusing the two pieces together. Satisfied, Din turns off the torch and admires his work.

“I’m not an armorer,” says Din.

“It’s perfect.”

“You haven’t checked it.”

You shrug. “I don’t need to.” Pride swells in Din’s chest but he remains silent. “Are you staying?” The question hangs in the air, and that quick flood of pride fades a bit. You sound so hopeful.

“No. I can’t stay,” answers Din.

“Well. Thank you.” You lift your hand and tap one finger against the new gold chain. “Tomorrow?”

Tomorrow. You want to see him…tomorrow.

Din nods. “Tomorrow.”

Din begins slowly backing away from you. Turning at the last second, Din nearly misses the top step. He recovers quickly, but hears your soft, stifled laugh from behind him.

Heat flaring in his cheeks, Din descends, heading for the hall that will take him toward Bo-Katan’s council room.

“You should be honest with her.” The Armorer appears at Din’s side like a golden shadow. His head swivels in her direction. The Armorer continues looking forward. “Their tribe is different. You must follow their lead and do as they do.”

Din frowns. Why is the Armorer involving herself?

“How do I do that?” he asks slowly.

“The one that was here pursued her in the way that is custom. You must be as aggressive, Din Djarin.”

She’s giving him advice.

“That is not our way.”

It’s true. Din’s tribe is restrictive when it comes to personal attachments. There is the attachment to tribe, and there is attachment to one’s foundling. Everything is and has always been in service to the whole, never the individual.

“No,” agrees the Armorer. “But it is hers. And she is still Mandalorian.”

The Armorer made an exception with Bo-Katan. Now that all of the clans are together, are the lines somehow blurred? To Din, her words sound like encouragement.

“Then it is permitted?” he asks.

“You seek a happiness that will only strengthen us as a people. It is a noble act. A welcome one.” She pauses. “Do not fear it.”

Din opens his mouth, words forming on his tongue, but the Armorer is already walking away, disappearing as quickly as she appeared.

Bo-Katan’s council room is a blur. It is monotone voices and forgotten ideas. They fuse and dissolve into background noise that is a dull droll in the recesses of his consciousness. You consume his thoughts, occupying his mind, pushing everything else out. The Armorer’s words repeat in his head.

Din stands in the very back of the room, leaning against the wall. The council room is packed full of Mandalorians. There are representatives of multiple tribes and clans. There are updates on the mining operations, discussions about farming and food cultivation, and debates on how to design and start a working energy grid.

While Din keeps one ear trained on the room, the rest of him is elsewhere. Din has always considered himself a man of action. He takes initiative, he faces countless dangers even with the potential for failure, and he never gives up. But with you, Din is as cautious and unsteady as a Rancor’s temper. He only wishes to make you happy, for you to choose him over everyone else.

Aggressive. The Armorer said to be aggressive, to pursue you in the way of your tribe.

Din cannot wait until tomorrow.

The moment Bo-Katan dismisses everyone, Din is off like a blaster bolt, heading back toward the Great Forge. It is late, and there are long shadows across the massive room as he enters. The Armorer is not there, but you are. With your back to him, you have not noticed him yet, and Din takes these solitary seconds to calm his racing heart.

Nervousness seeps in like water finding the openings beneath his armor. The tips of his fingers buzz with anticipation, and all of Din’s senses are heightened and alert like he’s facing down a Mudhorn and not simply about to tell you how he feels.

Swallowing down the trepidation and solidifying his resolve, Din heads for the stairs, taking them two at a time.

“May I speak with you?” he calls out, voice ringing loudly in the empty hall.

You start, turn, shoulders immediately softening when you realize who it is that is speaking. Already, you’re moving toward him and Din’s heart hammers with how quickly you respond. He strides forward, meeting you halfway.

“You came back,” and there is such joy in your voice that Din cannot help himself.

One hand reaches out to rest against the lower-half of your waist just above your hip. Instinct rushes in, and Din’s gloved hand tightens, drawing you closer against him. Your own hand rises, stopping at his chest plate, finding respite just shy of the ka’rta beskar in his armor.

“I needed to see you,” replies Din. Absently, his other hand brushes through the gold chains, finding the new one, only for his fingers to lightly twine around it.

You press in a bit closer, and Din relaxes into the embrace. There is a naturalness to it, the way the two of you stand together. It is its own thrumming drum, something that sits within Din’s chest, beating beside his heart. It moves and twists, the feeling snaking outward to slither between rib bones and around his lungs. Everything comes together, and Din knows that this is right.

This is how it should always be.

“To talk?” you ask.

“To talk.” Din’s fingers release the newly added gold chain. That hand falls, coming to a stop at your elbow. “Come with me.”

You turn with him, the two of you heading deeper into the shadows of the Great Forge. There is no one else in the room but Din wants no interruptions.

“Is there something wrong? Is it Grogu?”

“No,” says Din quickly. “He’s fine.” Reaching out again, Din draws you back to him. You go without resistance, the two of you nearly fused together.

Din needs to just say it. Why have any doubt? You’re hanging on his every word and literally hanging on to him. Every day, Din comes to you. Every day for months. Every day you greet him with tiny touches or gentle greetings. You are always so open, always so warm, and Din misses it—misses you whenever you’re apart.

So, he says it, plainly and without hesitation.

“I missed you.” Your fingers tighten on his arm, chest rising slight, and Din catches the small inhalation. “I miss you all the time,” he continues. “The moments I’m not with you are lonely ones.”

“But you see me every day.” Your voice is a whisper, one so soft that the voice receiver in your helmet hardly picks it up.

“And it is not enough.”

“Din—”

“I wanted to leave after. To take Grogu and return to Nevarro. But I stayed, not just from duty, but because I was drawn to you.” Din shakes his head absently. “I didn’t understand at first. I didn’t want to. But as I spent more time with you, I never wished to leave your presence. I needed to be near you all the time.”

Your arms start to slide around him and Din melts into the touch, the two of you coming together in the shadows.

“I wake and my first thoughts begin with you. Before I rest, my last thoughts end with you. My happiness and future are tied with your own.” Din lowers his voice. “I only make an offer and hope you’ll accept.”

Din’s next inhale is a shudder. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.”

“Din,” you sigh, and he has no idea if you sound happy or sad.

“Ori'haat. I say these words from my heart.”

You place one hand on his chest, this time right over the ka’rta beskar. It slides upward, and gently cups the side of Din’s helmet. He leans into the touch, sighing with contentment.

“You’re an honorable man, Din Djarin. To hear you say this brings me joy.”

Din immediately tightens his hold, every nerve in his body telling him to take you away, to exchange the words and be done with it.

“I am happiest when you’re with me,” you continue. “I am always at ease. At peace. Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, Din. I wish to never be apart.”

Din lowers his head, his helmeted forehead pressing lightly to your own.

The instinct to kiss you flames within him, but Din does not remove his helmet. It remains in place. In time, it will happen. In time, he will gaze upon your face and find peace within your eyes. All of that will happen.

He has gone without you for this long.

Until it is official, Din can wait a little longer.

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[duchess-of-mandalore]

I cannot tell you how over-the-two-moons-of-Mandalore I am about the Bo-Katan we got in “The Mines of Mandalore.” While I was hoping they’d treat her character with nuance and not make her a villain, I did expect that they’d immediately set her up as an antagonist to Din’s story. I also expected that we’d pick up in Season 3 with a Bo who was angry, frustrated, despondent, rude, and impulsive and I was ready to defend every one of those emotions.

I never expected the Bo we got in this episode.

She’s fierce and tough, depressed and hurting, but then we also get these sad smiles and longing looks and these beautiful moments where her gentler side comes through.

She’s wields the Darksaber with skill and precision and the expertise that comes with both practice and willingness to connect with the saber the way Kanan taught Sabine to do. That’s her sword.

But she’s honorable. She could have killed Din (or at least let him die) several times over. She could have taken the Darksaber. She could be bitter about the fact that he has it. 

Instead, we see her wield the Darksaber as an expert, and then place it back on the ground with the rest of Din’s weapons. 

I was scared we’d get a Bo that disregarded her character development in Rebels, but she’s proven that she’s still committed to fighting honorably for her people, just as she told Sabine to do.

And she’s just so ... beautifully soft.

We saw Bo be soft so rarely in TCW and Rebels, but Katee is leaning into giving Bo that gentle side.

Her immediate concern when Grogu shows up alone and willingness to go find his dad even though at first she’d been like “It’s Din Djarin. Let’s get rid of him once and for all.”

Each and every time she talks to Grogu, she’s so tender and calm. She encourages him when he’s scared and pushes his pram out of the way when she senses danger. She talks to him and knows he understands and tells him at least generally about the connection she’s had to Jedi in her life.

(In short, Bo loves babies!)

The way Grogu looks at her tells me he already likes and trusts her.

Plus she’s saved his dad several times now.

To be clear, I’m sure there’s going to be tension going forward, and I don’t expect Bo to always act as calmly and nobly as she did in this episode. She can be catty and rude and violent and I love that those are all parts of her character, too. 

But I also think it’s already clear that in terms of her desires for her people, this former terrorist is done fighting over petty differences. She doesn’t dismiss Din even though he’s a part of a group she considers a cult (and she would know) because he’s still her people. And she’s still has no higher desire than the reunification of her scattered people and for them to be able to live in peace in spite of their long history of (and her own participation in) civil wars. 

“I am not my sister.” 

No, but Bo-Katan is currently more like her than she ever has been.

[galactic-rhea]

Tbh clone wars has some really "wow they went THERE" moments when it comes to sex stuff.

There are several moments where the show just shows literal sexual harassment or asult and just... brushes it off, Padme, Ahsoka, even Anakin are victim to this (unwanted kisses being the most common, but If I remember correctly some death watch guy smacks Ahsoka on the butt once)

Also Ahsoka gets almost sex trafficked(???) A few times. Like what was the implication soposed to be with the Zygerrian arc, or when Hondo tries to sell her?

At least with Hondo we can assume he mightve just been trying to sell her to the separatists but also... dude wtf?

There's also several instances where the clone wars show tweets woman in a... yikes way, some just seems fairly realistic for a war (the Ryloth dancers, the clones having pin up posters, a few comments here and there)

Idk where I'm going with this but long story short: I agree with you on that clone wars arc, Anakin felt so out of charecter and I almost always hate jealous boyfriend arcs becuase they're so often ooc and kinda sexist???

Oh, agreed, they really did. I think partially a lot of that has to do with the fact it was done in an era where...that sort of stuff was way more common in shows, lol

With the Death Watch thing, it was Bo-Katan who smacked Ahsoka's butt. And after she said she was engaged to Lux, not less. It's funny if you try to not think too hard about it 😭 I guess is more acceptable if isn't a guy the one doign it,,,,in Cartoon Network standards, i suppose.

Also yeah, I have a strong distaste with Ahsoka's treatement during the Zigerrian arc, like truly awful, and truly a bad look on Anakin, Obi-Wan, and anyone who agreed with it (and it doesn't help that Anakin's actitude was so...cocky, sure, dude, whatever). The Zigarrian arc is such a weird case because in one hand I'm all for inflicting more trauma and whump onto Anakin,,,,on the other, his actitude and total disregard of Ahsoka's safety is extremely frustrating (you could argue neither Obi-Wan nor Anakin really expected the plan to go wrong in any way, still very bad, not good guys). Then again, if I recall, the plan wasn't quite their idea at all, and in the comics Anakin is way less confident about it, and Ahsoka was the one insisting in going, but yeah, yeah, just another case of weird writting wiwth mixed results.

But yeah, it was the episode with Hondo capturing her that reeaaaally made me go "was that necessary", it can be very messed up, and is true that it's barely aknowledged. I suppose the difference with the Clovis arc, is that in that episode they do make more clear that it's wrong, they just don't allow Padmé to have any agency about it, it was just used to make Anakin jealous.

Overall: I think I have said it before, but TCW main problem is that it tackles stuff on a very surface level due being short-episodes, with one-time plots, and being a kids show. So the characters aren't allowed to react too much about their messed up circumstances. Almost everything is always reseted after an arc ends. Anakin isn't allowed have moments of reflection or to show how things can be affecting him on a deeper level. And the same can be argued with other characters.

Sadly all those instances with Ahsoka are treated like jokes. And all the very unsubtle implications of Anakin being assaulted in the Zigerrian arc isn't dealt with beyond having Anakin consider whatever slavist nonsense the queen tells him. While other things, just like you said with the dancers, does make the world seem a bit bigger and more deep, as messed up as it can be.

[padawansuggest]

I just realized that if Grogu found a kyber chip for a saber he could ask (lmao pantomime more like) the Armorer to make him a saber hilt but it would be super funny if they legit didn’t know what Grogu was asking for pieces (maybe even stick a very thin Beskar plating on the outside to keep the crystal from getting close and shorting out but enough that it won’t be broken or felt by dark side users) and one day he’s got all the pieces and they’re all gathering around (while Bo-Katan, the only one with the braincell to realize it’s a saber hilt, is just fucking laughing at them all) while Grogu makes his first ever personal saber and then turns him on OH MY GOD THE BABY HAS A PLASMA BLADE SOMEONE STOP HIM OH SHIT HES WAVING IT AROUND OH NO HES GONNA USE IT ON A STORMTROOPER- nvm that’s a good use for his blade, that’s chill.

Listen I just really want her to make his saber hilt (to his cute little specifications lmao, maybe with a mud horn on the end) because he asks her one day after finding a kyber chip and hiding it in his little pockets for a month.

[perigilpin]

a little mystery to figure out

Bo-Katan x The Armorer

The royal warrior fallen from grace and the steadfast spiritual leader, ideological opposites with a common goal. It’s the sun and the moon, now perfectly aligned in an eclipse, and no one can look away.

Written for the @swfemmefrenzy prompt Mand’alor

——————————————————————————-

At first it simply reads as a strong showing of solidarity between the two factions. The pair’s mutual respect and partnership is a sign of understanding that all walks of life, all ways to be a Mandalorian, will be honored here on thier home world.

Such it is that when the Mand’alor speaks to the crowd, it is always The Armorer at her right hand. And when the Armorer leads ceremony at the Living Waters, the Mand’alor always stands not far behind her, in support.

Yet it is not just pomp and ceremony that tie the two together. It is no secret that they can often be found side by side by side talking on this or that, in the trenches rebuilding, overseeing the foundlings training, or just sitting by the fire. (At least one observer has even claimed to have seen them walking through the gardens together while talking in hushed tones.)

In short, where one goes the other is sure to follow.

So it’s no shock that the rumor mill is set ablaze. It’s a common ground a both groups have vested interest in, and they trade peices of information like currency.

( “The Mand’alor used to be involved with a Jedi”, a Nite-Owl whispers to a member of the Covert as they haul debris together to clear room for a larger camp.

“We don’t even know The Armorer’s real name. I don’t think anyone does.” he replies.)

Perhaps the first whispers started back on Nevvaro, within the Covert, when then now Mand’alor emerged scandalously bare faced from the humble forge, walking side by side with thier leader. Or maybe it was during the battle for Mandalor, as silver and gold sliced and swung in perfect sync as they led the charge.

It’s quite the tale really.

The royal warrior fallen from grace and the steadfast spiritual leader, ideological opposites with a common goal. It’s the sun and the moon, now perfectly aligned in an eclipse, and no one can look away.

So of course people talk, as they always have, as they always will.

Sparring partners debate as they clash. (“I heard they got secretly married right after the battle for Mandalor.”

Then the adamant reply, “No way. I bet they actually hate each other. It’s gotta be be just for show.”)

Friends whisper to each other in the dining hall.(“Do you think the Manda’lor has seen her face?”)

There is one thing everyone agrees on though, and that is that there is much work to do.

Especially so in the forge. The Mand’alor has been leading parties in to the destroyed imperial base. First as search parties, now to gather the fallen imperial’s pieces of bastardised beskar.

The shiny white armor plates begin to stack up in the back of the forge, and while it means much work, it also means new armor for foundlings and repairs for those damaged in battle.

On this particular day, a curious gaggle of both helmeted and bare faced young Mandalorians watch The Armorer from a distance in the shadows of the cavernous great forge hall. She hammers at the forge, methodically working a large peice of metal until the sound of a small vehicle breaks her from her trance.

It’s the Mand’alor, backing up a speeder full of shining white imperial helmets, chest plates, and miscellaneous pieces.

The helmetless woman jumps straight of out the seat over the side of the speeder, and gestures with a flourish to the bounty. She says something playfully that, even straining, the group can’t quite manage to hear.

What they do hear is a laugh tempered with the lightest static from a voice modulator, that resounds throughout the cavernous chamber. The Armorer then closes the gap between herself and The Mand’alor, gently placing her gloved hands on the other woman’s shoulders before letting them fall, tenderly grazing the length of her arms on the way down.

“Ooo! I told you!” One of the foundlings squeals from the shadows , “They’re definitely in love.”

“They are not” her friend parries, not as quietly as they should have , “Just because YOU are in love with our Manda’lor does not mean everyone else is too.”

“Phstt, shut up! You’re just mad you lost our bet.” She playfully swats at her friend but the beskar on beskar contact sends a high pitched ping throughout the chamber and both Bo-Katan and The Armorer turn thier heads to to look in thier direction.

“Run! Let’s get out of here.”

“You owe me 10 credits!”

“I do not, that didn’t prove anything!”

Their voices carry throughout the chamber as they scurry away, despite their best efforts.

In the distance, on the grand pedestal of the ancient forge, Bo-Katan smiles despite herself focusing her attention back on The Armorer.

“I have to get this speeder back to the landing platform, but after that...” she lifts her hand to play with the ruffled furs on the edge of The Armorer’s cape, “I’m plenty free to prove anything you’d like.”

“Well my tracinya’ika” she replies in the soft voice that Bo-Katan has come to know is just for her, “I might have a few ideas.”

“This is the way.”

[wannab-urs]

The Spreadsheet Digest - Vol 14

Howdy folks <3

Just a few recs this week and several I read a while ago. I read a shit ton this week, but it was all WIPs I've already recommended, so you're only getting a few new ones. I found some really interesting fics this week, though, and I'm very excited to share them with y'all!!

As always The Spreadsheet can be found here and all my other fic recs can be found here. Feel free to tag me in your fics!!

Recs below the Pedro <3

Says It Feels Like Heaven To Him - a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes

Just a really fucking good PWP. Joel comes home from poker night and he's horny and it's really fucking hot.

That Should Be Me - a Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

Reader is an idiot who hasn't told Din her feelings and gets jelly over Bo Katan and Din is an idiot who also hasn't told reader his feelings and then they bang. Oh and the razor crest is there bc AS IT FUCKING SHOULD BE. Miss her sm. Love an idiots to lovers story <333

Honeyed - a Joel series by @softlyspector

he touch averse reader concept is so so cool, I really like it. I love this cozy little slow burn so much. Watching her build trust with him and the way you hold true to the one step forward two steps back thing you introduce early on ahhhh. I like that she can handle his touch but it still makes her uneasy because it wouldn't feel as significant if he was just the special chosen one she can touch with absolutely no qualms about it. Anyway I hope there's more coming after part 2. I adore this <3

Be good - a Joel one shot by @hier--soir

motherfuckin submissive joel but like you can tell he's not the most submissive person on the planet he just really wants to make you happy and it also obviously gets him off. This is so fucking hot. I love every word of this UGH

The old college try - a Joel one shot by @proxima-writes

OH MY GOD. Slutty frat dad joel!!!! His slutty lil basketball shorts. The beer pong! The keg stand! THE SMUT!!!! This was so fucking hot. I... have no words. Gimme gimme.

With Cherries on Top - a Max Phillips series by @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa

Ok so I adore The Proposal. Great Rom Com. I'm such a slut for fake dating. (Someone should go back and see all things I've said I'm a slut for. It's a lot) Anyway... I really fucking like this. The way the vampire lore is adjusted to fit the story and woven in is excellent. I fucking love the bickering. I'm a banter ass bitch. Max is so good in this. Perfect amount of total douchebag with a heart of gold. Also I want him to bite me...

Decoherence - a Jack (Whiskey) series by @prolix-yuy

I hadn't seen Westworld when I read the first fic in this universe and I still haven't and I still don't care... This is such an insanely good fic. The world building and characterization is just absolutely mindblowing. I adored getting to see reader adjust to life post-Cognitive Dissonance. I'm hoping we get a pretty good insight into what Jack has been doing for the last year. I fucking love that they reunite exactly one year after their previous meeting ugh. I'm so fucking excited for this series, LJ, you fucking genius <3

Sunshine - a Din series by @zialltops (AO3)

This is such a sweet soft tooth rotting ass din fic. It's adorable and I love it <3

----------- oldies but goodies ----------

Soaked - a Javi P one shot by @joelscruff

say it again - a Dieter one shot by @ezrasbirdie

Dieter Bravo x Roommates AU - a Dieter one shot by @fuckyeahdindjarin

The Plan (and all its iterations) - a Dieter one shot by @prolix-yuy

No One Else - a Din one shot by @beskarandblasters

I'm Coming Back for You, Baby - a Dieter one shot by @jazzelsaur (AO3)

In a perfect world, you love me - a Din Series by @theidiotwhowritesthings

Carry out - a Javi P one shot by @soullumii

The Saint, the sinner, and the devil - a Joel/Javi P Series by @joelsgirl

Pretty When You Cry - a Joel one shot by @violentdelightsandviolentends

Wrap Party - a Dieter one shot by @write-and-buried

You Make Loving Fun - a Frankie Series by @redahlia-writes

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

P.S. If you like Andor... @beskarandblasters has been writing excellent Cassian fics recently!!

And to my mutuals who have written new stuff this week that I didn't read I am so sorry... I'll get there eventually!!

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

Happy Reading!

[mandalorianchronicles]

Bo-Katan's Journey and The Road Ahead

The latest episode of The Mandalorian has begun to shed a bit of light on the beginning of Bo’s journey (as well as raising yet more questions about the timeline).

Adonai Kryze, Bo-Katan and Satine’s father - and the warlord of House Kryze - fought and died in the The Great Clan Wars (approx. 41BBY-39BBY). He witnessed Bo recite the creed in front of the Living Waters. Bo says that he was proud of her because she “didn’t embarrass him in front of everyone”. When Din said he sounded like an interesting man and commented he would have liked to meet him, Bo says that he was a “great man”, before sharing that he died defending Mandalore.  

This is our first big clue in canon as to who influenced her most in her younger years. We know that Adonai sent Satine away to Coruscant to keep her safe, and it is presumably while she is there that she begins to change her affiliation to that of the New Mandalorians, since her father was obviously not a pacifist. Bo’s narrative suggests that she sought to make her father proud, so she probably did all she could to align her allegiances with his. Since Satine is the older of the two, it makes sense that the second-born would be even more desperate to please the father to gain more favor and attention. Depending on when Adonai died, he may not have known that his eldest daughter and heir decided to switch her affiliation to the New Mandalorians. But if he was alive when Satine made her choice, Bo would have gotten a front row seat to her father’s feelings, which were most likely those of disappointment and betrayal, just before his death at the hands of the faction that Satine now served. One can easily see how Bo might have come to hate her sister and want revenge.

Dave Filoni has stated that he had a back story in mind where Bo-katan and Satine were twins. Initially, I had dismissed this as a mothballed idea when Katee Sackhoff was chosen to play Bo in the live-action series, since she is now 42 years old and nowhere near the right age to play Satine’s twin. If Satine is the same age as Obi-Wan, they would be 66 in 9 ABY, plus however many years have passed since season 1 began (which is “many years” according Favreau). But, if it is true that Bo recited the creed in front of her father before his death during the Great Clan Wars, he might not have given up on that idea after all. Even if she recited the creed at 12 years old in the last year of the war (39 BBY), she would still be 60 years old in 9 ABY. Maybe she was in carbon freeze for a couple decades, maybe she has an excellent skin care regimen. In any case, Bo is definitely FAR older than she looks. But her advanced age fuels the idea that there could have been a much deeper animosity between the sisters than if there was a significant age gap. 

I assume Bo was not exiled with the Old Mandalorians to Concordia, since she was still too young to fight in the war, but at some point, she joined Pre Vizsla and gave her allegiance to Death Watch and began actively seeking her sister’s demise. Later, when Pre’s bid for power led him to join forces with the former Sith Lord, Maul, Bo-katan vehemently objects to the alliance. She knows Maul will double cross Pre, and she feared he would not win the confrontation. Her instincts proved to be right on the credits. Maul murders her sister and takes over Mandalore. We don’t yet know if Bo’s motivations for turning on Maul were simply because he was an outsider, or if his murder of Satine made her regret the path of vengeance she had chosen - but in either case, Bo organizes her Nite Owls into a resistance to oust Maul from power. Palpatine does her work for her, killing Savage and imprisoning Maul, and Bo seems to lie low for a short time. But when Saxon and the other super commandos loyal to Maul spring him from prison and he regains a foothold on Mandalore, she asks the Republic for aide. We know the rest. The Siege of Mandalore is a success, Maul is captured, and Bo is made regent. But when she refuses to bend the knee to Palpatine, she is replaced by Saxon.

Seventeen years later, Bo is still actively resisting the Empire’s hold on Mandalore, seeking freedom for her people. When Sabine Wren offers her the reclaimed Darksaber, she refuses it, claiming she failed as regent to protect her people. In the conflict that follows, Fenn Rau and Bo-katan agree that Sabine shows much leadership potential, despite her young age. After the insurgents come together and finally oust Gar Saxon and his brother, gaining a major victory, Sabine once more offers the Darksaber to Bo, saying that she has proven herself to be a worthy leader. Bo reluctantly accepts the heirloom, gaining the support of the remaining Kryze clan, House Vizsla, Clan Wren, Clan Rook, Clan Eldar, and Fenn Rau, the last Protector (but not The Children of the Watch, who were residing on Concordia). Ultimately, their rebellion prompts the Empire to strike back by utterly destroying the entire surface of the planet in the Great Purge. 

Over a decade later, we find her still fighting the good fight against the remnants of the Empire and trying to regain the Darksaber to once more unite her people and restore Mandalore. But because of one blunder by the unsuspecting Din, she could not lay claim to the sword, and refused to accept it as a gift once more (nor fight him for it). In the The Mines of Mandalore, we see Bo refuse to lay claim to it again, even though Din had lost it in his struggle against the cyborg crab. Though she obviously has no trouble wielding the blade - the same of which can not be said of either Din or Paz Vizsla - she still returned the precious weapon to him. Though she had the *perfect* opportunity to take the saber from Din (and technically creed compliant), she did the honorable thing and saved his life, returning the weapon without a word of argument. Time will tell if she continues to act as honorably, but I see no reason to doubt her, especially now that she has clearly begun to take a liking to Din.

There is a wide range of feelings concerning Bo-Katan in the Star Wars fan base, and understandably so. Personally, she was redeemed in my eyes when she changed course at the end of The Clone Wars. She appeared genuinely remorseful of her sister's death when she spoke to Obi-Wan (though ultimately, she had not been the one responsible). She has spent upwards of 35 years atoning for the choices of her youth. Let's be honest, it's not as though she's the first Star Wars character who set themselves on a path of evil in the name of vengeance and then turn away from it later. She isn't perfect, but she has acted honorably and with humility in regards to the Darksaber since it was first offered to her.

Bo has been raised to believe that the myths and legends of her people are just that - stories. She believed, like many others, that the mythosaurs had gone extinct generations ago. They were once real, but the stories about her people's encounters with them have been reduced to legend, like many of the fables that we have in the real world (ex: Excalibur and its ability to choose a worthy king; St. George and the dragon, magic-wielding wizards, etc.). It's as strange for her to believe in Din's myths as it would be for someone living in the 21st century to believe Excalibur really did choose King Arthur. Jedi and lightsabers are real to be certain, but no other lightsaber chooses who is worthy to wield it (of which Bo-Katan is fully aware).

Now that a mythosaur has apparently been residing in the depths, perhaps she'll begin to believe. Or maybe she'll just accept that they obviously didn't go extinct and the timing is just very convenient to herald in the restoration of Mandalore. Perhaps it was a Force sensitive individual who first had the vision to begin with, seeing the destruction of Mandalore and catching a glimpse of a new leader rising alongside the great beast. Their future is uncertain, but I believe that this season will show that the ideal future for Mandalore is somewhere in the middle of their extremes. Bo will be able to experience some spirituality (or the will of Force) permeating her strictly realist belief system. Hopefully, Din will discover that he can still be a Mandalorian without following all the fundamentalist restrictions of the cult in which he was raised. They both need to accept that fighting isn't the only application for Mandalorians.

I also suspect that Din will discover that The Armorer is not the most trustworthy of historians, but she'll have her reasons. One thing is certain: Mandalore can have no future as long as their individual beliefs are exclusive to others. Like Bo said, it is painful to see her people fighting each other for generations for reasons too complicated to explain. It has to stop, and I believe balance will only be achieved with Bo-Katan and Din working together.

[itberice]

One of the biggest complaints about The Mandalorian Season 3 was that it was messy.

I disagree with that notion, and I'm hoping people are willing to give it another watch now that they have the full story. It is only because of Din's journey to redeem himself that Bo-Katan does too. It's only because of Bo-Katan joining Din's covert that they start to work as a team. It's only because of this unity and the Mythosaur that The Armorer can see something larger happening. It's only because of this that Bo-Katan and Din work to reunite the two sects of Mandalorians. It's only because Din and Bo-Katan that they all work together to take back Mandalore from Gideon. And it's because they destroy Gideon, and the Mandalorians succeed, that Din and Grogu can have some peace before moving towards the future.

Here is a further, more detailed explanation of why I disagree that the story was messy:

Chapter 17: The Apostate: Definitely an episode that was setting up the rest of the season. A lot of plot was carried over from season 2 and TBOBF. Also a lot of plot was introduced for the rest of the season. Din's plan to go to the Living Water, attempting to rebuild IG-11, the pirates that would later attack Nevarro (under Imperial influence). This episode really focuses on Din's desire to be redeemed and become a Mandalorian once again; both in traveling to the Living Waters, and later going to Bo-Katan and attempting to join her.

Chapter 18: The Mines of Mandalore: This episode is major for the show. Din finds out that Mandalore is still inhabitable (and later allows the Mandalorians to return there). He is able to see Mandalore, even though it's just ruins, and what his people once were. Obviously, both him and Bo-Katan renew their faith and commitment to the Way of the Mandalorians. It's a rebirth for them both, in different ways. This episode is a great base for the relationship between Din and Bo-Katan, which is so important because they are the force that reunites the Mandalorians moving forward. And of course the major reveal: the Mythosaur.

Chapter 19: The Convert: This is the episode that had the biggest backlash, and a lot of it is deserved. They spent WAY too long on the Coruscant plot. I understand what they were trying to accomplish but they did not need to spend so much time on it. However, this episode does play an important part in the overall plot. A lot of this episode illustrates how the Empire has survived after Return of the Jedi. They still have power, people and influence all over. We see it when Din and Bo-Katan get attacked, and we see it with Elia Kane. Also important is that Elia Kane works hard to make sure that Imperial cloning secrets do not fall into the hands of the New Republic. And we know that cloning is important with Gideon in the last episode and, obviously, the sequel trilogy. And while Din may not have a lot of screen time this episode, it is big for him to be accepted back into his covert. Bo-Katan is also welcomed into the covert. A major step for the unification of the Mandalorians.

*Also now that we know Dave Filoni will be directing a movie that ties together The Mandalorian, TBOBF and Ahsoka against Thrawn and the Empire, it makes sense that The Mandalorian spent time building up the conflict. This season definitely had some parallels between how the Mandalorians survived and how the Empire survived. And also how they will both make a come back.*

Chapter 20: The Foundling: This is a big episode for a lot of reasons. First, we see Din try to assimilate Grogu into Mandalorian life now that he has returned to the covert. A big step for Grogu's future. We also see more of Grogu's past (Kelleran Beq!!!) and how he was rescued during Order 66. This is also a major episode because we see the covert start to work together as a team to rescue Ragnar. They work as one unit to achieve their goal. It's an organized effort. Bo-Katan's short time with the covert has already had an affect. This is just step one and leads into the story of the next episode very well. Also major is Bo-Katan telling The Armorer about the Mythosaur. That changes the trajectory of the Mandalorians.

Chapter 21: The Pirate: The covert works together in the last episode and this episode takes another step. It introduces the Carson Teva and Din dynamic that we now know will play a part in season 4. This episode also shows one of the plays of the Empire, backing pirates to attack and cause chaos in the Outer Rim. Din asks for help fighting the pirates and the covert agrees. It's a nice moment that shows the community that they have built. The covert working together in the last episode changed their relationship. Bo-Katan and Din save the day. Their success moves them away from hiding in a cave. It brings them a new home and new hope. The Armorer sees this change among the covert. Din and Bo-Katan have brought new life into this group of Mandalorians. It's a big moment when The Armorer tells Bo-Katan that she will reunite the different groups of Mandalorians, especially since we know that Bo-Katan does not really want to lead anymore.

Chapter 22: Guns for Hire: This is a fun episode. The calm before the heavier story. Grogu gets knighted (as he should), Din hates on some droids, and they make some allies on Plazir-15. And then the end. I know everyone has different opinions on the Darksaber and how that story should have played out but I do think they handled it well. This whole season showed how silly the myth of the Darksaber really is. Some people laughed about the transfer of ownership of the Darksaber in this episode, that the cyborg creature from The Mines of Mandalore was actually the ruler of Mandalore for the short time. That it really should have belonged to this character or this character... And that's the point. Being in possession of one object doesn't mean you are capable of leading people. Bo-Katan had to stop focusing on the Darksaber and start by helping Grogu, saving Din, uniting the covert to help save Ragnar and Nevarro, helping the droids and people of Plazir-15.... it's these moments when she steps away from the Darksaber and works to help people that she becomes worthy of being the leader of the Mandalorians. Din helps her work towards that, even if she doesn't realize. Din knows that she is a worthy leader. But when he sees that others need her to have the Darksaber to do it, he gives her the means to lead. She returns the favor and respect by defending him in front of everyone. It is a nice moment of character development for her. It is also a great moment of validation for Din, which we know he deserves.

Chapter 23: The Spies: Definitely one of the best episodes of The Mandalorian. I could write a whole essay on the Shadow Councils conversation and the characters. That conversation shows how much the Empire is still manipulating the story. It connects together a lot of pieces from earlier episodes. Din's covert and the Mandalorian mercenceries come together AND start to work together. Bo-Katan shows how hard she tried to save the lives of Mandalorians. Din shows how much he respects Bo-Katan; really cementing how important their relationship is to this season and the unification of their people. This also shows that Bo-Katan has always been trying to serve and save her people. That these are her moments of strength and when she's just chasing the Darksaber, it doesn't work right. But when she's focused on the people of Mandalore, it is right. This revelation shows the shift of the Mandalorians too. They realize that Bo-Katan having the Darksaber is not the important thing but that she wants to protect and serve them.

And while we see Bo-Katan's strengths in this episode, we also see Din's strengths. He is an honorable warrior, a fighter. He will do anything to protect his people and Grogu, even let Grogu keep his annoying IG-12 suit because it's protection. He is the first to volunteer for Bo-Katan, he's at the front of the battle after they are attacked, he fights until he can't anymore before his capture. And this leads us to the next episode.

Chapter 24: The Return: Again, we see Din's strength as a warrior and protector in this episode. He fights like crazy to protect Grogu and his people from Gideon. He wants Mandalore for his people, he wants Grogu to have a safe place to grow up. Grogu and Din work together better than ever to fight against the odds. And all the Mandalorians work together to take back their home. It's only because all of the Mandalorians work together that they are able to win. Grogu, Din and Bo-Katan stand against Gideon together. That's really what this season was about, The Mandalorians finding common ground and making a stand together. And they succeeded. The Mandalorians can now rebuild, the flame of their forge is re-lit!

Din adopting Grogu is a beautiful moment that we were all waiting for. But it's another great moment that shows a lot about Din. Din did not officially adopt Grogu until it was needed for Grogu's future. The act is for Grogu, not for himself. He adopted Grogu so that Grogu can have a safe future with the Mandalorians. And the ONLY reason that the Mandalorians are a safe option for Grogu is because of Din's actions!!

I know a lot of people had complaints about the amount of screen time for Din and Grogu and that it seemed like they were side characters on their own show. But this season was an important part of their future! Din and Grogu now have this huge community of friends and allies. They worked hard as a group to build something and it all came together because of them. The only reason the Mandalorians even knew that Mandalore could still sustain life, Bo-Katan's journey of redemption and seeing the Mythosaur, Bo-Katan reuniting the Mandalorians... Din was not only there but the reason it all happened. The show needed this for the future plot of Thrawn and the Empire but also for Din and Grogu. They accomplished something great for their people and now they get to relax before going on to fight Imperial remnants to help Grogu train. A lot of this season was about rebuilding and healing. All of these characters have already gone through horrible things, they deserve some peace and success. They accomplished so much by coming together and helping each other.

This season was not a mess but a natural transition from Din and Grogu on their own to a larger community of Mandalorians. Din and Grogu worked with Bo-Katan all season to help pull together all the pieces. It is a part in their story and a part of the Mandalorians coming back from so much destruction.

[vvitchering]

Have some mando ficlet where Din and Paz have a conversation they won’t be allowed to have in the show

I know we’re not gonna get anything like this because this season is allergic to any kind of personal dialogue or introspection but I think it would be great if Din and Paz got to chat for a while.

Maybe Paz invites Din to come spar with him. He doesn’t know the full story, no one does, the Armorer deemed the specifics of Din’s blasphemy unimportant. But Din is back now. Redeemed. Darksaber still swinging on his belt. Paz has some complicated feelings about that still but Din beat him fair and square and so goddamn honorably that it’s water under the bridge.

And now Bo-Katan Kryze is the one walking the line for them. Something doesn’t sit right about that with Paz, even if Din doesn’t seem bothered.

So they spar. In between blows, Din tells him his story. Finding out the child is a Jedi. The Empire’s plot to capture him and use him for cruel experiments. All the people Din met along the way willing to put their lives at risk for him and his child.

Din losing the child.

The horrible choice to remove his helmet that was never really a choice at all because not doing so would have resulted in the death of his foundling. His child. His son.

Their reunion cut short by another impossible choice to let his child embrace his own heritage.

The months spent alone and aimless, seeing less and less point in being careful or cautious because what did it truly matter anymore? Dar’manda. Soulless, blasphemer, apostate.

The tiniest glimmer of hope in an old legend promising redemption. Again, there was never really a choice.

Paz knows the rest.

Din lands a hit and the sound of struck armor rings out around them. He looks up, startled at Paz allowing such an obvious strike past his guard.

“I misjudged you.” Paz says.

“This is the wa—“

“No. This is…unfair. What was done to you was excessive. Cruel.”

Din is silent. He’s been quiet since his return, like he’s afraid to call any attention to himself. Nothing like the strong willed pain-in-the-ass beroya Paz remembers.

“The Armorer says Bo-Katan walks in both worlds now. That she will be the one who unites our people.” Paz gestures at Din’s side, where the darksaber rests. “That weapon says otherwise.”

“I didn’t want any of this.” Din finally says, so softly Paz barely hears it.

“Maybe not. But is this not a cause worth your effort? The people won’t follow a false prophet.”

“I’m—I’m no prophet. I’m not special, I’m not anyone important. I don’t want to lead.”

“That is exactly why you should, Djarin. You walked between worlds. You possess the darksaber. You gave up your soul in service of your foundling and then risked your life for mine.”

“I am no one.”

“You are Mand’alor,” Paz punctuates his statement with a salute, rapping his vambrace against his chest. The resulting ring of beskar striking beskar echoes around them.

“And I will follow wherever you lead.”

[the-kittylorian-writes]

"Battle Scar"

Type: One-Shot

Pairing: Din Djarin x Omera

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary:

In the aftermath of a battle on Mandalore, Din is confronted by a distraught Omera as she is further acquainted with a reality where her own authority is as revered as the Manda’lor’s, as his spouse and co-ruler. Amidst the chaos of miscommunication, Omera has been forced to issue a command out of duty which nearly cost Din’s life, and Omera was not happy at all. Arguments loom, and so do regrets. (TW: One-sided marital spat)

[Written for (extended!) Mandomera Week 2022, seventh prompt: “Forgiveness”]

Read here or on Archive of Our Own

"Battle Scar"

“Mand’alor, I was told that the Lady Omera was not at the debriefing,” Din Djarin’s aide-de-camp informed him as Din limped into the modest rooms he shared with his wife. 

The Sundari Royal Palace remained grey and bleak, unpolished from debris and dust in its slow recovery from the ruin brought about by the Great Purge. The Purge was but a dreadful scar in Mandalorian history, remedied by the grueling work of reunifying clans and creeds until all arrived at the same page, and unequivocally under Din’s rule.

The Palace had only partially been rebuilt, with its construction relentlessly interrupted by reports of impending enemy attacks. Din could count past his ten fingers the instances he needed to cut quality time with his family short. Omera would be the one left to govern the Palace while Din stormed into the battlefields with his fellow seasoned warriors.

Omera had continued to coordinate with Din and his officers while she remained at her post in the Palace’s headquarters. These incidents of prolonged joint command happened more often than they thought was ideal. There seemed no trouble at first when Omera willingly learned the various forms of leadership required of Din as well as her. She was taught the necessary protocols and directives in the event that her husband could not issue them himself, for any grave reason. 

For a long and arduous streak, Din was leading the charge most of the time; Omera assisted, sometimes becoming her husband’s aide as she fastened the armor on him. That ritual had transformed into stolen moments of spiritual intimacy between them. With every component of the beskar’gam she placed upon him, their gazes would lock, intense and sublime, and little words were exchanged. Tension would always follow—and suddenly Din was off with Bo-Katan Kryze or the Armorer or Paz Vizsla into war, his cape billowing behind him like a rallying banner, the Darksaber clipped to his side. 

Din couldn’t remember the last time he had properly shared the marriage bed with Omera since their wedding night. He was always away, awake, busy… and sometimes Omera would be awake with him, would join him in briefings if only to feel his warmth at her side. The only other way she found to compensate for these growing times apart was when she made dinner for him. Even then, it was hurried, and conversation was sparse.

This most recent battle could have been the last straw, and yet it was a victory which concluded a crucial campaign, thanks to Omera’s impartial and quick thinking. It was as if all her training culminated to this one victory, and she was ready to keep to the shadows, out of everyone’s way.

And as the aide reported—Omera had opted not to attend the debriefing. To date, this only happened once, and only because she needed to see Grogu and Winta off as they were transported to safety through their Jedi ally, Master Skywalker. Din, at the time, was in the middle of the most decisive battle yet—the one to capture Sundari, Mandalore’s new capital and epicenter of authority before the Purge struck.

A knot of worry formed within Din as pain bloomed like searing coals all over his body. This latest maddening fray to recapture Keldabe, Mandalore’s ancient and former capital, had sapped him of his strength. He sustained some debilitating injuries that were treated on the field and after, in the secure confines of the med-centre tent.

He had spent an entire week away from Omera, and months away from Grogu and Winta, capped by the wars that poured themselves unto his lap one after another… Yet, in spite of it, Din kept his resolve sharp and his spirit from falling into shreds. 

But tonight, he was more than bone-weary. He was utterly exhausted, and all he wanted to do was be in his wife’s arms, hear her soothing voice, feel her soft caresses as she inspected the medic’s work. The medics may have done their best… but Omera, she would always find ways to make it better, for the wounds to somehow close faster and his pains to fade away which bacta couldn’t mend. It was not sorcerer magic, but Omera was gifted in her on way. That was why Din had always been so drawn to her.

Tonight, he was met by an empty hallway as the aide left him to his privacy—no wife to greet him or to walk astride him from a debriefing as they entered the chambers together.

Din limped further in; he looked around—the lamps were lit, the heating was on (Mandalore had cold nights this time of year), and… to his relief, the dinner was set.

No wife, however, graced the table.

Din groaned in relief as he gingerly took a seat at one end of the table. His side burned; he kept his hand there, already shed of glove and vambrace, and waited for the brief rush of agony to subside. He grimaced, closing his eyes. He leaned upon the seat’s headrest awhile, letting the harrowing memories of Keldabe melt away. Paz had offered to clean up; Bo-Katan and Fenn Rau (whose revived Skull Squadron offered air support) remained at the debriefing. It was at Paz’s urging which led Din to return to Omera halfway through the meeting. If she hadn’t shown up from the beginning, she wouldn’t do so for the rest of it—and there was an acute reason for it.

Din’s eyes flew open when he heard footsteps approach. His half-drugged vision focused on the source, and Din sighed; a weight lifted off him when Omera appeared at the other end of the dinner table.

Din stopped short of his greeting. Omera’s eyes were bloodshot as if from a thorough cry. Her beautiful raven-dark hair and clothes were disheveled. She had already shed the armor she ceremoniously wore even as she remained in the Palace as the Mand’alor took to the battlefields.

It was Omera’s grating voice which hit Din like a shard of ice. “Please eat,” she prompted him tonelessly. “Don’t mind me—I have no appetite.”

“Omera—“ Din ventured. Omera sharply turned her head away, avoiding his pleading gaze.

“I’ll sit here,” she said at length, breathing out her statement in a shuddering sob, “I’ll sit here because you’re my husband, and I still respect you…”

“Omera…” Din called to her again. He winced at how his voice sounded so fragmented and weak. He realized how more acquainted he had become with Omera’s own suffering, even before she could completely relay her side of things. 

“… and because I love you, Din, after everything—everything we’ve gone through!” Omera unleashed the words. Her voice cracked. “Especially after this… this… call I had to make.” 

A call, in this context, was a tactical decision a commanding officer had to make amidst the odds, and in some cases—because of it. 

Din was silent as he let Omera pour her enraged heart out. She shook as she spoke, visibly fighting for vestiges of self-control. Din knew this, because she could be recovering from shock. Din felt guilt wash over him, because he also knew how proud he was of his wife’s mandokar, but sadly, at her expense. Omera had carried out a decision too difficult even for a battle-born Mandalorian to execute. The responsibility behind it was crushing should things fall awry. 

Weeks beforehand, the Keldabe campaign fell into a string of countless briefings, once they had gotten word that Imperial Remnant forces were amassing an offensive to retake the old capital. Omera was present in all those meetings when they reviewed the plans over and over again… she’d joked once, when spirits were relatively high: “I’ve heard these operatives so many times, I can recite them by rote in my sleep!” She had laughed then—uneasy laughter, but Maker, his wife still smiled, wide enough so her lovely dimples showed. The radiance still lingered in her eyes.

Now, those eyes were dull, avoidant, and awash with the shackling fear of a loss which could have been, had the call she made not ended up being the staggering success it had become, to their great unfathomable fortune.

“Danger close,” Omera spat, as if drilling into Din his own awareness of the weight Omera needed to bear, of the gamble she was doing before she even realized it. “In a fatal distance from your position! Had I caught the report earlier, I wouldn’t have made the call to set an entire fire mission meant for the Imps practically right above your heads!”

Din leaned further into the headrest, studying his distraught wife. He felt disembodied as he witnessed her grief, and yet with the bond they shared between them, they both knew that Omera was duty-bound to make the call herself. There was no way out of it save for dereliction, and with it the capacity to undermine her husband’s trust.

Omera had risked an entire company when an airstrike targeted coordinates dangerously proximate to friendly troops in order to eliminate enemy forces—hence the term, danger close. “The message got to me too late!” her tirade went on. “I’ve only been informed of your situation right after I green-lit the fire mission… all I heard before the comms went down was, ‘the enemy’s in position, we got them where we need them to be!’ Comms were completely dead for a full ten minutes, the longest ten minutes of my life, and I know—I know the engineers have worked hard to get the comms back up, but… you told me, the enemy was in position. It was now or never, or retaking Keldabe would drain more of our resources; it could be lost to us for a long time. What I’ve not known until the last minute, when I had to give the order because you can’t, and because the comms were down—was that your own position hadn’t changed! You were pinned in place, and hadn’t relocated to a safe distance where artillery wouldn’t blow you all to bits! Oh Maker—Maker, Din!” 

Omera growled and stuttered; she quivered as her voice grew louder with every portion of her tale, until she was as good as hysterical. 

That was enough for Din to ignore his wounded state as he got up from his end of the table to limp his way to her—but Omera flinched. Din’s heart fell. Omera had deliberately shifted her own seat away from his reach, and Din was only clutching air mere inches atop her trembling frame. He could almost feel the heat of her turmoil emanate from her body.

Din couldn’t speak. He couldn’t find the words, or express all of them at once—he was sorry, and yet pride overtook him, knowing his wife did what she had to do even as it went against the grain she had been raised in, among the peaceful krill ponds of Sorgan and only the annual harvest to preoccupy their minds until the Klatooinian raids happened. He knew that she knew that none of this was his fault, and he wasn’t faulting her either, but logic dissolved where emotions ran high and rampant. 

This could be a long night.

“What would happen if the fire mission failed despite danger close? You knew your position, you knew the enemy’s position, you knew mine—and that was to command Captain Fenn Rau and his squadron to fire on coordinates so close to you! And even Captain Rau had hesitated… but an order was an order. Tons of firepower a small distance from where you were crouched behind nonexistent cover, just so you could wipe the enemy out… I was going to kill my own husband—look at me, Din! (and yet her eyes remained averted)… Am I Omera, widowed again, but this time, by her own hand…?”

There, she said it; she told him what was tearing her asunder from the inside. 

Omera was a fragile leaf in a gale as she strung racing emotions into thoughts, and thoughts into words as best as she could. Fresh tears and mirthless laughter wove through Omera’s feat at coherence. Din sensed that she’d finally reach the peak of her dark despondency, and the white flames of her anger were whittling to embers. Soon, he could touch her again without resistance. 

Din understood, and it hurt him deeply, yet he found Omera blameless. It was he who had kept himself and his forces in harm’s way, but the willingness to sacrifice oneself for a greater good had always been the forefront of their arsenal. From the entirely challenging first year of his marriage to Omera, Din had learned how to decipher his wife—the outbursts, the occasional moments of silent treatment, the sobs of relief when he would return to her in one piece. She would then kiss and hold him as she had when he’d first offered his heart to her. 

He deciphered Omera’s grating, terrible confusion—how silly she must feel with these arguments, knowing well what she had gotten herself into when she married him, and when he made her his Queen and co-ruler over Mandalore and its neighboring worlds. She had made that pact with him, of bringing the Mando’ade together, of leading them together, and even leading them when they were physically apart. And the Mando’ade embraced the arrangement in turn, fully accepting her as their Queen, whom the Mand’alor had chosen to spend the rest of his life with whether on the throne or when that time had run its course.

Inching closer, he engulfed her in a tender, tenuous embrace. Omera was too vulnerable right now, after hitting a new level of reality. She knew as well as himself that Mandalore and its people came first, as long as Din remained their anointed leader, as long as he kept wielding the Darksaber and no one had challenged him—and his rule—for it.

If it meant losing the one she loved the most so that Mandalore continued to rise, so be it. It may sound cruel and counterproductive, as a leader usually fell with their kingdom, but not for Din Djarin. He had already planned two steps ahead for the loved ones he would leave behind, should his life end prematurely.

Omera was folded up on the chair, racked in quiet sobs. 

“Omera,” Din rasped out; it was taking his remaining strength to console her. He hadn’t slept and eaten well in days… but he needed to see to his wife’s welfare, after this awful trial by fire he had inadvertently put her through. “Y-you have to forgive me…”

His wife ceased her weeping; as if something snapped within her, she turned to him. Her eyes brimmed with fleeting concern. “Din, your voice—It’s scratched… Are you ill?”

Din smiled. With all his heart, he wanted to kiss Omera then and there. All her training, and yet the innocence borne out of her worry for him stood out to him like a flare in the dark. 

“I’ve been… screaming for all of ten minutes,” Din explained fondly, almost jokingly. “No comms, and I couldn’t get anything past a certain distance. I was yelling orders out manually. Thankfully, they all got passed down the ranks. We pulled through. Voice still got busted, though.” He had shed his helmet already beforehand; his gaze was full on her when Omera had tried to read his eyes, the shape of light in them, the shadows and this own unspoken words. 

“You’re hurt,” Omera remarked needlessly. Her expression had softened for a moment—then, to Din’s dismay, it grew distant once more.

There was a long silence again. This time, Din felt it sink well into his gut, into his system.

“Please eat,” Omera urged him one last time before she set herself to rights—dried her tears and smoothed her tunic down before she carefully rose from her seat. “See you in the morning, Din,” she whispered, resuming her cold treatment of him, but only after her beautiful almond eyes gently gave him a once-over—her lips parted. She thought twice and said nothing more.

She left him at the table alone; she had gone to their sleeping chambers as Din heard the door swish open and close in the wake of her fading footfalls.

***

Omera was startled awake by a chill in her bones.

She opened her eyes, and out of habit, she faced the side of the bed where Din should be—had he slept beside her that night.

Automatically, and in a sudden surge of loneliness, a palm reached out to smooth the empty space where her husband should be in his usual fitful, but much needed repose. 

The chill came from a half-empty bed. While there were times when Din would stay up so late in meetings or matters that needed his attention, long enough to leave his side of the bed bare before dawn, he would always return as often as he could. The bed would dent where Din’s weight pushed it down, and Omera would wake the exact moment her husband laid next to her. In a silent treaty, their foreheads met as they both returned to slumber. In a few hours, they would be up again, despite the limited hours Din had to recuperate to face another day as sole ruler.

In the past months since reclaiming Sundari, Din had been like water through a sieve—and she was the sieve. He was there yet not fully present. He was elusive even when he kissed her, but it had become dispassionate overtime. 

Omera sighed. The pillow was still wet whereupon she had cried herself to sleep that night. She didn’t need to check the chrono to reckon that it only past two in the morning. Mandalore had nineteen-hour days, lesser than most worlds and planets, but still falling in accordance to standard. Maybe, Omera thought, that was why she had felt that days flew by so quickly, and the nights were over in the blink of an eye.

She eyed the empty side of Din’s bed. Her lips quivered. 

She bit back the urge to loath herself. 

She had been horrible to Din at the dinner table. And Din, her sweet, noble, pure-hearted husband—he was simply there for her as he took all her scathing words in. She couldn’t even remember half of what she said, the burning statements she snarled out at him; she could only remember with embarrassment the blazing anger and confusion and helplessness she had meant to reel in, but ended in taking it all out on Din.

Now, in this moment of clarity hitting her like a slap, now that she knew that she may have hurt Din irrevocably and her heart had begun to hurt in turn—she recognized the rage which grew out of frustration over the situation rather than the people behind it. She had no way of channeling all the emotions that threatened to drown her in a misery she would have trouble delivering herself from. And there was Din: his kind eyes, his beautiful face, his serene disposition despite being almost taken from her by her need to momentarily command air support and artillery while comms were still running smoothly in the Palace. He was her shock absorber. And he was there for her every step of the way. And—gods, Omera felt nauseatingly dreadful. 

She was being petulant while her husband sat there, injured, patiently listening, waiting for a window to push forward and comfort her. 

Where did Din get all this self-mastery? How has being Mand’alor changed him in such an immense way, that Din the bounty hunter, Din the hunted—now held authority not only over the Mando’ade, but over his own once-turbulent soul?

Did he have any idea of the repercussions should the fire mission wipe them out with the targets? Omera knew Din had already been updating his will and testament. It was customary, Din had told her, of Mandalorian kings and queens. She shouldn’t worry about him departing this life too soon, and yet—he almost had. At least, she had thought bitterly, it would be a coveted warrior’s death.

Din’s hurt, was all her mind pondered afterwards as Omera rose from the bed, dressed herself in a robe and tied her hair up. Din was hurt, and he’s not in bed. She had to go to him, wherever he was. He should still be in the Palace. There was no way Din was still testing the limits of his mandokar after a week in a war zone.

Her steps moving out of their sleeping chambers felt like lead. Perhaps it was the guilt, the shame over last night’s hysterics which kept her from walking with her shoulders back and head up. 

The Palace seemed empty. Where were the other Mandalorians? After the Purge, there was so little of them left. Yet she had joined them, a new Mandalorian in their fold. She wasn’t Mandalorian-born, but wed to one, and through that custom, how quickly shall Mandalore rise again and be repopulated with new spouses and children?

Five steps, seven steps, nine…

She wove aimlessly down the empty halls where her footfalls echoed.

She didn’t know when her steps finally halted, but when she lifted her eyes to determine where her feet led her, she saw it was the door to one of the officers’ meeting rooms. She was surprised, however, when the door swished open—and out came Paz Vizsla, helmet perpetually on, but through his posture was visibly tired. She heard him sigh through the modulator, laced with heavy fatigue.

“Paz…” Omera called, and the heavy infantry warrior looked up to acknowledge her.

“Omera,” he answered back, his voice muted yet affable. He nodded his visored head. “It’s late. Should you not be in bed, my lady?”

Omera blushed. She could never get used to those titles, no matter how the likes of Bo-Katan herself, once so opposed to Din’s claim to the Darksaber, had convinced her that my lady was a noble title—and Omera was worthy of it. Bo-Katan had been very sincere, and very contrite.

Omera didn’t know what to reply. Her thoughts evaporated like steam.

Paz, to his credit, was no less understanding. He had been a stalwart friend to Din despite a history of scuffles and brief resentment over Din’s transgression of breaking the Creed. Paz had since forgiven him and took his place as a trusted comrade and brother-in-arms to Din in the battlefield. It was then no surprise to Omera when Paz offered, without her saying anything, “Din’s in there, my lady.” The large man motioned to the meeting room he’d just stepped out from. His deep baritone was gentle. “I bid you good night.”

“Good night, Paz,” Omera greeted back as Paz nodded and disappeared down the long hall to his own quarters.

The sight which met Omera had set her heart alight and broken at the same time.

Din was on a chair by the heating vent, shed of armor and only in his flight suit—he had not even changed to clothes fit for longer downtimes. He sat up but his eyes were closed, and that was when Omera realized that Paz had probably caught his brother sleeping, and had decided to drape a huge blanket over the man. It looked almost comical—an oversized blanket over her husband, but it also made Din look so small. So… mortal.

Omera bit back a sob as she made her way to the slumbering warrior.

She couldn’t help but admire his features: both soft and sharp and wonderfully handsome. Din’s self-consciousness over showing his face was long gone. He now treated the helmet as Bo-Katan or Fenn Rau did, like a piece of armor to be worn only when necessity arose, and not as part of a fundamentalist religious pact.

Din’s face in his sleep made him look so serene, but it was the serenity of one confident in their own strength, and reliant on the strength of those around them. 

The Mand’alor felt secure in this room where battle plans were hatched, and yet—not secure in his marriage bed, with his wife.

Worry tore through Omera when she noted Din’s slightly labored breathing. There were bruises and minor gashes on his face, but not to an extent where he could be unrecognizable. The cut over his nose had already been bandaged. Omera smelled the faint scent of bacta underneath the huge blanket.

Unable to help herself, she willed her husband to wake with a loving kiss on his cheek, so close to his mouth. How she missed this sort of warmth she could bestow on him, when her heart was full and free of darkness.

Din slowly stirred awake. A breath escaped him, and he blinked. Immediately alerted to a familiar presence, Din turned to face her. Puzzlement filled the sea of brown in his eyes, as though he hadn’t expected Omera to be at his side in this hour.

“Omera,” Din acknowledged his wife. The fatigue was palpable in his eyes and bled through the hoarseness of his voice. “I—I need to speak to you…”

“Right now, love?” Omera marveled at how Din could switch at once to a sort of business-like air, with both of them dressed down they were almost bare. Omera felt heat course through her body when Din had drawn his gaze over her entirety before meeting the warm depths of her eyes once more.

“Paz and I talked,” Din began, and he shifted his position so he sat up more fully. Din winced and Omera empathically winced with him as he registered the dull pain shooting through his body. “I… I know you’d want to find some peace again, after a long while.”

Omera’s brows knitted, not quite sure where Din was getting at. “Love—what are you saying?”

Din’s ever-so-gentle gaze kept her in place. His eyes were sad, so sad. Omera swallowed hard.

“He’s agreed to take you back all the way to Sorgan in two days’ time. I’ll have Skywalker and the kids know. I’ll accompany you as far as the blockade before the jump. I—I need to be on Mandalore, but you… Omera, you need to rest. I’m granting you this, and you should grant yourself that, too…”

“Din,” Omera shushed him, and she kissed him again, this time full on the lips but only for an instant. “Din—no, no. I’m staying with you. I’m not going anywhere…”

Omera felt her beloved’s gloveless fingers trace her cheek, then her jaw with a reverent affection she had missed so much that it ached. “You’re in need of a home now, Omera. Mandalore isn’t home. At least, not yet. Let yourself recover… I know I’ve put you through so much.”

She meant no disrespect at all, but she had chosen to deter her husband’s entreaty from sinking into her thoughts. Din loved her—oh, Omera knew that as much. But at this moment, he was being civil.

It shattered her heart even more, knowing Din was giving her a chance to reconsider their marriage, their eternal pact to each other, and he was bearing her no ill will over it. He would not judge her for it, and he would make sure that the rest of the Mando’ade would not begrudge their Queen her right to decide for herself, out of her own free will.

Omera felt those stubborn tears again. They hadn’t left her entirely since the night before. 

She felt great relief when Din accepted her embrace, and with it, a kov’nyn with foreheads pressed so close together, it could almost seem that they read each other’s thoughts. Omera wished that was so. She wanted Din to know.

“I’m staying, my love,” she whispered again, almost pleadingly. “Din—I’m so sorry about last night…”

Din was unrelenting, yet his scratched voice was compassionate. “You had every right to let me know how you felt.”

Omera nodded helplessly. She let her wet cheek grace over Din’s own, now covered in the stubble she had loved to brush her fingers over, when they still had their nights to themselves, when their marriage was raw and young. How everything leveled so quickly; how reality had set in so dizzyingly faster than a free-fall. “I could do better, my love,” she insisted. “I’m learning, still learning. You know that.”

Din had compelled her to meet his gaze without as much as a word. 

“Your welfare means so much to me,” Din added, superfluously. “Omera—you can never be happy on Mandalore, not while the war is still upon us.”

Omera had her mind set. She would hold herself accountable to it, once she’s relayed these words to Din. 

“I don’t want to be happy all the time,” she told him pointblank, her voice surprisingly calm and resolute. “Of course, happiness is a gift. I’d want to be happy—but not at the expense of us. I was scared out of my wits with that danger close call yesterday. Yes. I was so upset and hysterical. Yes. I wanted to escape that pain for a little while. Yes. But Din—I want to experience every growing pain with you. My love—Sorgan is an old life. I would love to return there, but only if you come with me. But that won’t be after a while but it doesn’t matter. Do what you need to do—and I will always be by your side.”

Din was looking at her incredulously, truly baffled that his queen would rebuff a chance at solace, when she could still afford to do so. With that bafflement came a genuine spark of joy when he smiled—small, but with a vibrancy Omera had not seen on her husband’s face for a long time.

“Now come to bed,” Omera concluded, suppressing a grin that a dimple cratered on her cheek. 

“Smooth,” Din joked with a furrowed brow, and Omera laughed—what a freeing thing to do. 

Their foreheads met once more, and before Omera knew it, Din was kissing her again with a rekindled passion that sent Omera immediately on fire. To her slight vexation, Din cut the kiss short, only for her to realize that the culprit was his pained grimace, as he pressed a hand to his side.

“Uh-oh,” Omera riposted with her own jesting air. “Looks like someone needs some TLC.”

It didn’t take much for Din’s own dimple to emerge from his stubbly cheek. “Then you forgive me?”

“Forgive you?” Omera feigned an aghast tone. “Do you forgive me?”

Din’s airy chuckle sent her heart dancing when he leaned forward to kiss her again. She ran her hands over his curls as he entangled his fingers over the lush length of her locks in familiar playfulness. 

“I forgive you,” he muttered in between impassioned kisses.

“Then,” Omera replied, sighing in this tender exchange, as if they were saying their wedding vows again, “I forgive you too, my love.”

Soon, the sun was high on Mandalore, and another day of unmistakable challenges was at hand.

******

Author's Notes:

Mando'a:

*Mand’alor - the sole ruler of the Mandalorian people *beskar’gam - Mandalorian suit of armor (lit. “iron skin”) *mandokar - the *right stuff*, the epitome of Mando virtue - a blend of aggression, tenacity, loyalty and a lust for life. *Mando’ade - the people of Mandalore (lit. “children of Mandalore”) *kov’nyn - a head-butt; a Keldabe kiss

Wikipedia as a reference is usually frowned upon in the academe, but for fic purposes, here’s the military definition of danger close - “If the forward observer or any friendly troops are within 600 meters of the impact point, to keep themselves safe, the forward observer would declare "danger close" in this last element.” I was quite intrigued with how something like that could work in a scenario like the one in this fic. I’m not an expert but sometimes writing about Mandalorians, a people well-versed in war, has you doing a bunch of research you don’t normally do. I’m not even entirely sure if I got this right, but I was curious so I went for it. ^^ Thank you for reading!

[tiptapricot]

HonESTLY? Favorite episode of the season so far, but still holds a lot of the issues that have been plaguing the story previous.

Loved getting to see more of the covert, more of their culture n practices n how those are carried out. Grogu getting to spar and Din being proud, Grogu getting his chest plate, Paz having a kid, etc were all lovely n I’m enjoying that family fleshing out, how important kids and parents are and the interconnected dynamics of saving them. It was also a more focused episode when it came to the main goal of rescuing Ragnar, and stuff felt pretty tight.

I can’t speak much on Grogu’s flashback as that time in the universe events wise isn’t my area of expertise, but it is cool to see more of how he escaped, and to have him existing as a character with more active struggles and fears and past traumas. I really want more of that. It gives a good texture to character dynamics and adds a motivating factor to how he develops, to his struggles and attachments and relationship to the force.

My critiques are that it was still a bit short, there’s still not really a clear direction I can feel, even though we’re now halfway through the season, and Din still feels sidelined. It’s like I’m watching a show around Bo Katan, around her development and feelings and struggles. And you can explore that as she’s an important part of the show, and I’m enjoying a lot of her plot, but when the focus and the narrative momentum is only related to her and not to Din, even when he has stuff like being?? Mand’alor?? To grapple with??? It makes for a very weird vibe when I actually try and dissect it. Again as I’ve said in the past, like the writers ran out of ideas for what to do with Din because they scrapped all the important plots already.

The previous seasons while a bit more monster of the week had a reason for that, at least, a direction they were going in each chapter that gave an explanation for things and built to something while exploring different parts of the universe and showing the bumpy way different lives intersect on one journey. But through all of it it was protecting Grogu, and then getting him to a Jedi, and then saving him from Moff Gideon, and then letting him go. I’m still not really getting that same thread from season 3, or if I look for it I’m only getting it from Bo Katan, with the mythasaur stuff, her own feelings on ruling, her experience joining the covert, etc.

Overall I’m happy with this episode, but the season still feels… lackluster so far, and strange. This felt like the most focused and direct piece of it all, but there’s been so many other messy plots and resolutions that it doesn’t hit in the way I think it could if it had better legs to stand on.

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

Thoughts regarding "The Apostate" and "The Mines of Mandalore"

I really wasn't impressed by the way this season began and I've been thinking about why.

Season one and season two do a very similar thing with their first episodes. I call it "I told you that story so I could tell you this one." Season one, this story about a stone-cold badass bounty hunter on the grey side of the galaxy far, far away is just the set-up for a story about family and love. Season two, this story about slaying a dragon and saving a small town as a side quest to finding a Jedi is the set-up for a story about deep life-changing friendship. Each closes with a twist, one introducing a brand new character who may remind us of an old one, the other bringing back an old character of whom some of us have never really got enough. This is a great season-opener structure for a show like The Mandalorian!

Season three really whiffs this.

The first episode is oddly short and inconclusive and feels like a bunch of bits stuck together. While the S1 and S2 openers are "I told you that story so I could tell you this one," they are each a fully-formed, interesting and satisfying story in and of themselves. Then the second episode takes the one thing that seemed purposeful albeit sorta out of left field about the first, Din's determination to revive IG-11 because he was his friend, and simply discards it. Peli convinces him to settle for a different droid. That's it. I don't appreciate feeling droid-baited!

Grogu had to see IG-11's semi-corpse reanimated and dragging itself across the floor with one arm trying to kill him only to promptly suffer a second death Looney Tunes-style for nothing. The cute scene in the Anzellans' workshop? For nothing, gratuitous. I'm not sure I even believe any more that the pirates are going to be back! The only part that turns out to matter is the scene with Bo-Katan.

If only Bo-Katan was ever going to matter, you could have had a far better season opener by removing virtually all the stuff on Nevarro and combining the first two episodes into one long one. Then you would have the same structure and the same switcheroo effect: This story about a quest for redemption is actually going to be about... Din getting to be a horse girl with an aquatic dinosaur?

In that way, it wouldn't feel quite so pointless that what was set up to look like the mainline quest of the season, finding the Living Waters in the mines and dunking Din, is out of the way by the end of episode 2, as it was only ever a set-up for a bigger story.

This still wouldn't truly please me, it would just be far better structurally. I wouldn't be really happy with it because:

I like IG-11 and would rather we were going to get some more time with him.

I don't particularly like Bo-Katan. I never get the impression she's really done the kind of self-reflection she needs to understand her true role and responsibility in everything that's happened. She's static as long as she doesn't do this and it makes her uninteresting and frustrating to me. If we got a more in-depth conversation between her and Din earlier on that made it clearer that she's despondent, that she feels like a failure not even worthy of redemption, that Din tries to encourage her to join him but she refuses because she's in too deep of a funk and only the news that he's in big trouble because of his dumbass quixotic quest that she refused to join him for manages to galvanise her into getting out of her Moping Chair and into action - then I would find it more satisfying.

Why should it be Bo-Katan? Why couldn't it be someone (if not IG-11) with whom Din has a warmer relationship? You know, like the ones developed across the past two seasons plus The Book of Boba Fett, which suffered badly from being not quite its own thing and not quite The Mandalorian season 2.5?

Even if we had to have Bo-Katan couldn't we have Boba too? The conflict between them and the ongoing exploration of very different styles of Mandalorian would make everything more interesting. Also, Din fucking owes Boba a couple of episodes. Also also, Temuera Morrison is handsome and charismatic.

Other points I wish to gripe about:

R5-D4 as a replacement for IG-11 didn't even make sense. How is an astromech droid suitable for spelunking? He can't climb. He doesn't have thrusters to let him ascend or descend without clambering. IG-11, being more humanoid, could climb or use a jetpack to maneouvre in the same way as Din and Grogu and thus accompany them into the more dangerous area where he would have been very helpful. What's more, when they get to Mandalore, Din has R5 take a sample of the air at the top of the civic centre complex where there's free air flow from the outside and decides from this that it's safe to go inside! He's going into a mine where there could be pockets of toxic gas much lower down where R5 can't sense them. It's all a lot of busy-work that ends up meaning nothing and doesn't make sense on its own merits. Your story should not make viewers think "Wait... so all that was pointless?"

The whole Mines part felt like they'd come up with a really cool setting with fun monsters, like a dungeon for an RPG, that they wanted to use and that was it.

HOWEVER

Din and Grogu's relationship and interactions this season so far are really adorable and I want more time for them.

[fission-mailure]

This season of The Mandalorian felt both weirdly directionless and weirdly without any kind of theme.

We sort of got fragments of themes? Early episodes bore the distinctive scars of an older version of the script where “Losing something important to you and trying to figure out how to live after that,” was a theme, but most of that had been scrubbed out. The last arc has a lot of moments that feel like they should be thematic, but all of them were orphaned. “Mandalorians are nothing without their trinkets,” feels like it should have been the culmination of something, but it’s just ... not. None of those fragments ever manage to add up to a single coherent theme or emotional narrative, though.

So, like. As a fun speculative episode, here’s how I would have rewritten the series. This does involve upping the episode count, which I usually avoid as a point on these lists, since episode counts are generally a reflection of budget -- but Disney has basically infinite money and The Mandalorian is a series that does well for them and is fairly proven by now, so. -- Wipe out everything that happened to Din in The Book of Boba Fett, have the first arc be about Din on his own after Grogu. Kick off a three episode arc with him returning to the cohort and being thrown out for losing his helmet, basically denying him that comfort while he’s still missing Grogu and throwing us into a ‘Din and Bo-Katan visit the Waters of Mandalore’ arc. Have Din actually get IG-99 repaired for this. -- Parallel Din wanting to be redeemed, and Bo-Katan wanting the Darksaber, but don’t give either of them what they want. Ye standard ‘there’s what they want (redemption and the Darksaber) and what they need (a sense of purpose and the will to reunite the Mandalorians without the Darksaber). -- This time, they find the Waters of Mandalore, but they’re corrupted and toxic. Din doesn’t get what he wants, he can’t get the redemption he’s seeking -- nobody will ever be able to again. As the arc ends, Din has to find something new for himself, and Bo-Katan willingly turns down the Darksaber. -- Move IG-99 becoming the marshal of Nevarro to here instead. Din is symbolically giving up an attempt to take comfort in the familiar.

-- One episode arc with Din joining Boba and Fennec for some Doing Stuff On Tatooine, essentially our breather arc, but also because Boba and Fennec are object lessons in the idea of remaking your life and finding new purpose. -- Have Din hired by Luke (via hologram) to find Kelleran Beq and Beq’s teenage apprentice, kicking off a three episode arc about that which also introduces the Imperial Remnant still trying to get its hands on Force-users. He finds Beq + apprentice in trouble, and we get the same flashback we got in the actual series, but from Beq’s perspective, as a story he’s telling Din. This then gets that Fun Grogu Backstory we got in the actual series, but it also means that Din gets a fuller understanding of Grogu’s situation: He was a Jedi, and then he lost everything. It also means that Din gets context for Grogu being a Jedi: Grogu was a Jedi for far longer than he wasn’t, and his return to the Jedi isn’t a ‘becoming a Jedi’ thing, it’s a ‘returning to something that was cut short’ thing. -- Also, this gives us a character who can be used for Jedi things without relying on that godawful Luke voice synthesiser. -- Have Beq’s apprentice be visibly unhappy and a poor fit for the Jedi lifestyle, though, and have Beq point this out, telling Din that he doesn’t think they’re necessarily happy being a Jedi. At the end, though, both of them return to the Jedi. Have Din have the option of talking to Grogu, and being talked to by Ahsoka or Beq about how it wouldn’t help, and making the decision again to leave without talking to him, as he did in TBoBF. This time, that decision would actually be a character development point, since he’s choosing not to give himself the comfort of familiarity if it will only confuse and unfocus Grogu, who’s also clearly missing him. -- One or two episode arc of Din doing something, essentially giving us another breather. Idk, maybe work in the Navarro siege here, have Din and Bo-Katan visit Plazir-15 (giving us another object lesson, since Captain Bombardier has remade his life, and Christopher Lloyd has not), with Bo-Katan defeating that one Mandalorian guy in a fight and using her victory there to recruit them to help out, and then Din and Bo-Katan visiting the cohort to recruit them, leading into the whole ‘save a kid from a bird’ episode, but with Din not joining them again, before they all go and save Nevarro. -- Three or four episode final arc of doing ... something, but not retaking Mandalore yet, building to a battle between the Mandalorians and Imperial Remnant. Maybe rescuing a group of captured Mandalorians or something, idek. Bo-Katan gets to tell her story about trying to surrender to Gideon and how he betrayed her. Bo-Katan briefly uses the Darksaber, it doesn’t get broken but maybe gets removed from the fight somehow, Imperial Commander du jour gets their ‘Mandalorians are nothing without their trinkets’ line. -- As part of this arc, have an episode focusing on Beq’s apprentice clearly not adapting well to Jedi-hood. Have them meet and talk with Grogu, who now can speak in at least rudimentary fashion (Grogu’s 100+ years old, he can’t remain a cutely squeaking baby forever). Give them the Luke ‘you can leave the Jedi, you know’ moment he had with Grogu. They leave, tracking, idk, some kind of transponder Beq gave Din, and can turn up for an obligatory big damn heroes moment. -- Bo-Katan wins the loyalty of the Mandalorians here instead, as a culmination of everything that’s happened so far, with the Armorer agreeing to follow/maybe encouraging her as well. Here, then, she doesn’t get that loyalty because she has the Magic Glow Sword, she gets it because through her actions she proved herself to be skilled and caring leader.  -- Beq’s former apprentice, having now left the Jedi, asks Din to be his apprentice. Din agrees, and gives them the Darksaber, since it’s a relic that belongs with a Mandalorian Jedi. They officially become a Mandalorian, Din does his whole working-for-the-New-Republic thing, now a new direction he’s taking with his life. Themes achieved. This isn’t perfect, obviously, Beq’s apprentice is a bit Original Sonic Character Do Not Steal and Din still doesn’t really get any kind of emotional arc with the Darksaber, but at least it a) Gives Bo-Katan an actual arc, b) Gives Din an actual arc, c) Gets in that ‘the Jedi will let you leave and hey maybe you could be a Mandalorian’ moment from TBoBF without completely invalidating the first two seasons, and b) Gets in that ‘Din looks after a kid’ thing going forward that Disney clearly thinks the show needs, except at least now it’s an angry, confused teenager and not just literally the same perpetual baby whose entire arc now makes no sense.

[butyoucouldberadiant]

As much as I miss Satine (why can’t we even have a name drop???), I can’t help but really enjoy Bo-Katan’s arc so far in the Mandalorian?

So at the beginning of this season, she’s like, ‘those myths of my people are just fantasy.’ Then, she goes on an unexpected pilgrimage to her destroyed home planet and ends up visiting a super sacred site from her childhood, where she sees one of those myths. Then, she finds herself having to seek refuge with the strict sect that Din is a part of, that she thinks is, frankly, ridiculous. But, because of the happenstance that she hadn’t taken her helmet off since saving Din from the water, she qualifies as one of them. So, she conforms to their way of life for a short while. And while she does it, she thinks on that accidental pilgrimage and the mythosaur, and she feels such a connection to her past and her heritage? So much so that when she needs a new piece of armor, she decides she wants to add the mythosaur’s image to it instead of her owl. She doesn’t choose the symbol of the nite owls, the elite group she led that she could be clinging to as she seeks to lead all of Mandalore (either because of what their reputation says about her or because she led them, or both!). She chooses the symbol of all Mandalorians, a symbol which is rooted in the mythic past that she previously viewed as nonsense, a symbol which she saw face to face in the ruins of her home. She doesn’t end up choosing the strict worldview of the Children of the Watch for herself, but her time with them has influenced her views on her heritage and beliefs.

Mainly, I just love her interacting with her heritage, and reconnecting with and reexamining it. But also - since I’m assuming her arc will continue with her becoming the/a leader of Mandalore - I like that she’s carrying the symbols not only of her sub group but also of her whole people. It’s a reminder that she leads them all, regardless of their sects, and that her loyalty is not only to the Mandalorians whose views she agrees with.

[alexversenaberrie]

This is another one of my Mandalorian OC you’re free to use for a future painting.

Name: Isabeth Shae Djarin-Kryze

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Year of Birth: 12 ABY

Place of Birth: Mandalore

Parents: Din Djarin (father) and Bo-Katan Kryze (mother)

Siblings: Grogu (adopted brother), Mirta (biological sister), and Alexi (biological brother)

House: Kryze

Clan: Mudhorn

Titles: Princess of Mandalore, Duchess of Navarro

Appearance:

•5’4

•Light olive skin(Caucasian X Latina)

•Athletic

•Short face

•Long, straight, ginger brown hair

•Brown eyes

•Visible freckles on both sides of her cheek

Notable Skills:

•Combat: Well rounded in different forms of hand-to-hand combat such as being skilled in the use of Westar 34, 35, and carbine blasters. She’s also highly skilled in the use of the recently reforged Dark Saber.

•Athleticism: Due to constant training under her father, Din Djarin, Isabeth is very athletic like the rest of her family clan.

•Intelligence: Above-average intelligence, excelled well at both the newly reestablished Royal Academy as a youth and in training with her clan. She has minor experience in piloting ships.

•Force Sensitive?: No

Additional Information:

•She’s the second of triplets to sister Mirta and brother Alexi.

•Served both Generals Leia Organa-Solo and Poe Dameron as a commander for the Resistance in the battle against the First Order.

•A gifted Musician

•While tight-knit with her entire family, she has a closer relationship with her father and adopted brother Grogu.

Strengths:

•Is well-rounded on the field of politics, thanks to learning experience from her mother, Bo-Katan.

•Has amazing determination, willpower and like her mother, won’t go down without a fight.

•Fearless

•Can speak Basic, Mando’a, Twi’leki, Huttese, Tusken, and Gunganese.

•Fast-thinking, makes effective split-second decisions, and can improvise.

•Constantly on alert

•Competent

Weaknesses:

•Can be stubborn at times

•Antisocial

•Has a fear of droids

•Has a fear of flying, which can explain her lack of experience with piloting ships.

•Mild temper

Armor:

•Helmet: A “NiteOwl”-styled helmet that’s a mix between both of her parents helmets combined. The decal on the helmet is the Clan Kryze signet.

•Chest and Neck Pieces: Typical Nite Owl chest and neck pieces with the chest piece featuring her mother’s “Kryze Mythosaur” signet on the right side of the chest piece and Mandalorian “peace” Lillie’s on its left side. At its center is a gold heart to symbolize compassion and kindness.

•Groin: Typical Nite Owl groin piece

•Pauldrons: Similar to her mother’s, Isabeth has a “Nite Owl” signet on the left pauldron and her father and brother’s “Mudhorn” signet on the right pauldron.

•Gauntlets: Similar in appearance to Sabine Wren’s, the gauntlets have the ability to shoot paralyzing darts, emit shields, repulse attacks from sabers and blasters, grapple lines, and the ability to throw barrels and use flamethrower.

Hand armor: Similar to her father’s.

•Thigh Plates: Similar to her mothers’s.

•Knee Armor: Galaxy-styled like Ursa Wren’s but can launch missiles.

•Shin Guards: Typical Nite Owl-styled shin guards like her mother.

•Jet pack: Due to her fear of flying, she doesn’t often use her jet pack, which is similar to her father’s.

Armor Color Scheme:

•Grey Blue

•Beskar Silver

Soft parts:

•Similar to her mother’s.

Belt:

•Similar to Sabine Wren’s with a double belt but with a light blue sash around it.

Weapons in Possession:

•2 identical Westar blasters

•Dark Saber, recently reforged by her brother, Grogu.

Here she is :). As she is a duchess of Navarro, I decided to give her the robe of Navarro's High Magistrate ;) And as she is royalty - I gave her other 'crown' like hairdresser of Satine

There is dark saber of course, I hope that it is visible.