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acourtofsnakes · 3 years

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Ret'urcye Mhi - Rogue, Chapter 7 | The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: Can things go back to normal after the Mandalorian saw you break down? Or have walls been torn down that can’t be replaced?

Warnings: Light swearing, I don’t want to give it away but no smut but… a ‘moment’ with some certainly hot thoughts and pining but nothing heavy though, reader has a back tattoo, let me know if I forgot anything!

AN: I have brought in Cara Dune in this, and she will be a frequent character. I by no means condone what Gina Carano did, and I am pleased and relieved that she is gone. However, I do like her character, as many others do. She IS only mentioned in this one briefly but will be a main character in a few future chapters.

Also, Readers tattoo is loosely based on this design!(link) I’m not sure who the exact creator is, but it was posted by Urban Threads on Pinterest, but if you know, please tell me! ❤️

Word Count: 8231

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs

Mando’a Translation: Ret'urcye mhi - Goodbye

Neither of you mentioned that afternoon.

It hadn’t come up in the 3 days since, and it hadn’t come up today. You made sure of it.

Every time Mando looked at you, and you just felt he was going to mention it, you’d change the subject. Or just walk away. You didn’t need to have that conversation with him. You couldn’t have that conversation with him. Or anyone.

The Mandalorian had sat there, holding you for the hours it took for you to cry yourself out. When the shuddering sobs had given way to hitched breaths and a numb stare, he’d still sat there. Rubbing your back in gentle circles, in time with Duru’s tail gently swaying over your arm. He hadn’t uttered a single word either, just letting you break down in his arms.

When the quiet ambiance of the ship and the pressure of his hand had lulled you into sleep, he’d carried you to his bed – well, the narrow cot that jutted out from the wall in what was supposed to be the medical area. He’d given up his sleeping compartment to Grogu a long time ago, to keep the little creature warm and safe.

He’d laid you in, covering you with the blanket and then one more that he pulled out from a unit.

You were asleep, so you hadn’t seen the way his gloved fingers gently brushed back the hair from your tear flushed cheeks, the way they’d lingered for a moment as he’d looked down at the soft strands gliding over his fingers. You hadn’t felt the way he’d frozen when a sudden want crashed through him, to yank off his gloves and run his bare hands through your hair, feel the silkiness and the texture for himself.

And you also wouldn’t have noticed the way his breathing went ragged for a moment and he’d lurched back, stumbling away so quickly he nearly overturned a box on his way out of the door.

Your sleep hadn’t remained easy. Only a few hours later, you had woken up screaming, unsure of where you were, why you were on a thin cot that smelled like metal and smoke and something distinctly unique and almost like sandalwood. It was somehow comforting, soothing. You had inhaled the scent, trying to calm down your pounding heard and regain control of your breathing.

It was only when you could suck in a full breath that you realised where you were, who’s bed this was.

A feeling of gratefulness had crashed over you, only to be immediately wiped out by shame. You had broken down in front of him, spat such awful, awful things to his face.

And when you heard footsteps outside the compartment door, the husky baritone of his voice as he called out your name softly, you’d gone still. Like you were back on the run, mere inches away from a hunter and one move would mean disaster.

He’d lingered, you could see by the shadows of his feet under the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. A wild thought had come to you, that he had his hand pressed to the door and you could just.. open it. Open it and let him come in, let him carry the burden of your nightmares and your feelings even If it was just for a little while. You could share some of those plaguing thoughts that you’d unleashed today. And he would listen. You didn’t know him that well, but you knew him enough to be confident he would sit there, let you talk. He knew what it was like to be alone, to have emotions and worries that you had no choice to bear yourself.

The temptation was so strong, you craved that contact and connection so much that you were halfway across the room before your snarling argument came back in full technicolour. The things you’d said to him. The appalling way you’d acted.

No.

You couldn’t see him. You couldn’t face him after that. After what you had said and the way you had cracked. You shook your head firmly, waiting until you heard a sigh so soft you might have imagined it and retreating footsteps.

It was only then you that you returned to the bed, pulling the twin blankets up high over your shoulders.

You’d deal with seeing him in the morning, but for now, all you could do was bury your face in the thin pillow and try not to notice how it smelt like him.

Something had changed between the two of you since that afternoon. He had glimpsed a part of you that you normally kept perfectly hidden, even from yourself.

…

You were on your way to another bounty, one of the last couple of pucks that Mando had left.

Mando had mentioned it was a hot, desert planet and he’d prefer it if you stayed in the ship with Grogu. It’d be far too hot for the little guy out there. You had obliged happily, more than fine to stay in. You didn’t like to be too hot, it made you uncomfortable and agitated.

The cockpit was quiet, a peaceful silence had descended upon it as Mando flew the ship.

You’d found yourself drawn to watching his hands lately. There was something… oddly soothing about it. Watching him work the controls, hold Grogu, clean his weapons.

You wondered if he missed the sensation of touch, and then wondered if yours and the kids presence here made it harder for him. Meant he had less chances to take off his armour and be free of it.

Of course, that had then led you onto the thought of wondering if he slept naked when he was alone.

The thought of him lying there, nothing hiding him, separating him from the world.

The thin blankets sliding over the body you knew was toned, yet soft enough in all the right places.

It made your mouth a little dry, your cheeks a little pink and you struggled to find something else to think about.

Your eyes drifted to his hands again, remembering the sound of the gloves being drawn off the other night.

They were mesmerising, agile, and you couldn’t stop thinking about them in your hair, on your skin.

Stars above, get a grip, girl.

You mentally scolded yourself for these thoughts, trying to steer your damned imagination onto something more appropriate.

Luckily, your saviour came in the form of Mando himself. He tilted his head back slightly, enough for you to know he was talking to you, “What’s your favourite planet? Or one you’d like to visit?”

The question surprised you, you had to admit. You weren’t used to people asking about your likes and dislikes. You smiled though, perhaps this was his gentle way to break any tension left over. “Hmm… I think… I’d have to say the planet I’d like to visit most... either Hoth or Coruscant.”

Mando laughed, that gorgeous rough, honey laugh, “Okay, Coruscant I can understand, but Hoth? Really?”

You pouted at the back of his head, “Yes!! It sounds beautiful.”

The Mandalorian laughed more, “Beautiful? Sweetheart, it’s covered in ice. It’s freezing there. All you would see is ice and snow… and more ice and more snow.”

You scowled at him now, throwing the leftover wrapper of Grogu’s cookies at his helmet, “And? Snow and ice are stunning. They’re powerful and strong. I’ve only ever been in a proper snowfall once, and I fell in love. The way the flakes float down and.. dance even if there’s the faintest breeze. And then when they land on your skin or your eyelashes like little cold kisses… The sound it makes under your boots when you walk on a fresh fall. And it softens everything, makes it easier on your eyes to see across the landscape… it’s quiet, muffled… Besides, I like the cold.”

Little did you know, Mando was grinning like an idiot under his helmet, adoring the way you defend it to him, the way you describe something as simple as ice and snow. “You like the cold, huh? Then why are you always grumbling that the heating is broken?” The teasing lilt to his voice was evident, so animated and content, compared to his usual cooler, calm silence.

You opened your mouth, then closed it again. “That is… completely irrelevant.” You looked at the back of his head, “What about you? If my choices are so hilarious.”

The Mandalorian made a thoughtful noise, “I wouldn’t say there’s one place in particular… But… there’s a few sanctuary planets dotted around. Places with really pretty, dense forests where you could walk for days and not spot anyone else. They’re protected and safe, no dangerous animals or anything allowed… literally sanctuaries. I’d like to take Grogu there… let him wander and have fun and eat things he shouldn’t without having to look over my shoulder.”

It was the most you’d ever heard him speak in one go, and there was a tenderness in his voice that brought tears to your eyes. This man truly loved his little green adoptive son and would do anything for him. “That sounds... stunning. I’ve heard of those planets and always wondered what they were like...”

He made a hum of agreement, fingers working over the control panel as he put it in autopilot. “One day…” He turned around in his chair, “What about your favourite colour?”

You moved to sit cross-legged in the seat, defying the concept of a chair. “Blue. Darker blues, like a midnight blue.” You swayed your chair from side to side slightly, “Actually, the same colour as the cloak you got me. So well done, kudo’s for you.”

Mando leant back in his own chair, tapping the side of his helmet before resting his hands on his thighs again. “This thing lets me read minds; you know.”

You began pulling the pins from your hair, “Mmhm, and I can fly.” You raise an eyebrow at him, grinning.

He chuckled, watching you intently behind the helmet though you wouldn’t know that, watching every pin get removed from holding up your hair, “It wouldn’t surprise me at this point, princess.” He tapped his thighs absently, “You wanna know the real secret?”

You nodded, reaching in for a pin that had become stuck deep in your hair, the last one. “Surprise me.” Got it. You yanked the pin out, letting your hair fall down and your fingers through it. You sighed a little in relief as you rubbed your fingertips against your scalp, chasing away any tightness from the day.

Mando didn’t say anything. He was too distracted, to struck into silence by the sight of your hair.

The light from the ship and coming in through the windows turned some of the strands to gold, igniting them with that fire that blazed within you – and that he’d been on the receiving end.

His hands tightened over his thighs, because he was overtaken by a craving, a need to remove your hands and feel your hair for himself.

It wasn’t the first time he’d had these thoughts.

Fuck, he’d been having these thoughts since he first saw you. He just hadn’t realised them until that night he’d nearly lost his life and woken up to you passed out on his chest.

He’d frozen, even his breathing stopping as he felt the warm weight of you, even though the armour.

He couldn’t bear to move you, to take away that pressure, the closeness of another human that he had missed for so long.

So, he hadn’t. He left you there. Spent hours watching you sleep, the warmth of your breath slightly fogging up the armour on his chest.

“Lori? Anyone in there?” You tilted your head, watching the man before you that was staring at you intently, his breathing somewhat ragged.

He startled slightly, coming back to himself, “Huh?”

You chuckled, “Where did you go? I was waiting for you to knock me off my feet with your revelation.”

He made a noise, “Uh… I.. actually can’t remember...” He tugged at his glove, an odd gesture so at odds with his usual confident demeanour.

You tilted your head, still smiling a little, “Are you okay?”

Luckily, he was saved from answering by the beeping of the controls behind him.

You’d arrived at the planet.

It was hot.

Beyond hot.

The air was warm, the water was warm, you were warm.

And already awake, having just calmed your breathing down from another nightmare, when you heard Grogu, his little coos and gurgled filtering down the hall to you.

The poor little creature had probably woken up from the heat. You had been on this desert planet for a couple of days, opting to stay in and look after the Child whilst Mando hunted down the bounty. The days here were scorching, a dry heat that sucked the life from you immediately. Even the nights were hot, unlike normal freezing desert nights.

Mando had returned this evening, panting from the heat after coming up from the carbonite chamber. “I swear it’s getting hotter out there.”

The cooling system on the Crest was just as temperamental as the heating, so it wasn’t exactly cool in here. The metal floors, which were normally always chilled, were warm underfoot. Mando had let you keep his room, and it was just as hot, being contained in with itself, so you’d been sleeping with the doors open.

Not that it made a dent. Every single closed space was like a heat trap, especially Grogu’s little compartment. So, no wonder he had woken up.

You stretched, then slipped from the cot and made your way to Grogu.

It didn’t take long to settle him, he was all tuckered out from the games you’d been playing today, so after patting his skin with a cool cloth, he had fallen back under.

You were now at the small ‘kitchen’ area in the ship, washing out the cloth. You huffed, splashing some water on your wrists and pulling out the pin that was holding up your hair, and falling out. Grogu had a habit of tugging the ends of your hair in his little fist.

You’d taken to wearing a thin floaty dress to bed, one you’d picked up in that market before it had turned into a horror show. The material was gauzy, allowing the heat to escape your body without it sticking to your clammy skin. What helped enormously was the large cut out in the back. It secured at the back of your neck, and then fell open, exposing almost your whole back before joining again at the base of your spine.

It was probably the flimsiest, most sinful thing you’d ever worn, but it was gorgeous and hey, it did the job.

You rolled your shoulders, pressing the cool cloth to your neck and you couldn’t help the sigh that escaped your lips and you could have sworn you heard a sizzle.

Footsteps behind you startled you, breaking you from your reverie, and then Mando’s voice filtered through the silence, “Are you okay?”

You turned around, smiling when you saw him because he was still in all his armour… not that you were surprised. He must have been boiling though, under all those heavy layers.

You nodded, lifting the cloth from your neck, “The kid was awake, but I settled him down, he was really warm.”

His head was covered, naturally, so you wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes followed a bead of water rolling down your neck, and the unbidden thought of his tongue catching it “Thank you for seeing to him, I didn’t hear..”

Weird. Normally he was so attuned to Grogu, hearing him before he even woke up if you were sitting together. Maybe he was tired, from his hunting.

What you didn’t know, couldn’t know, was that he had been staring at the ceiling for the 3rd night in a row. Having thoughts that he should not be having, his body yearning for things it shouldn’t.

You shook your head, still smiling and turned back to the sink area, “It’s no worries, I was awake anyway so… And you’ve been hunting. You deserve the rest.” You set down the cloth, running your hands through your hair and reaching for your pin to secure it back up. You faced him again, gathering your hair in your hands, “How was it?”

But he wasn’t listening.

He suddenly moved forward, and then he was in front of you. “Wait.” His voice was low, almost strained. There was a husk to it that hadn’t been there before, but it ignited something within you.

You froze, your hands still stuck in your hair. You looked up at him, raising your eyebrows slightly, “What..?” It was only now he was right in front of you that you could see his chest, rising and falling rapidly. “Mando, are you okay?”

He shook his head quickly, his helmet tilted down to you, his hands curling and uncurling at his sides, “Let your hair down.” His voice was still that rumbly order, and it was such an odd request that you did just that, letting it tumble back down again. Your own hands trembled slightly as you lowered them.

A shudder seemed to roll through his body, and he rocked forward on his feet, lurching toward you in a movement that lacked his usual smooth elegance. It was unsteady, unsure.

He stopped when he was a mere few inches away, the closest you’d been to each other since that afternoon.

This close, you could practically feel the heat roiling off of him under his armour, and you tilted your head up to meet him, concern in your eyes, “Mando, you need to go and have a cold shower.. You sound like you’re burning up… do you feel flushed?”

He shook his head jerkily, his hands raising, “Shh… please. I just.. I need to..” He broke off, a sharp intake of air cutting his words.

Something else began to curl through the worry in your belly, like some instinct knew things you didn’t. You swallowed, your voice low when you next spoke, “You need to what..?”

The Mandalorian was shaking, his body tensing and untensing like he was fighting himself, telling himself not to do this. “I.. I need to touch your hair.”

Stars, you could feel the flush that crept up his neck and cheeks, like it burned through his helmet but you stayed completely still.

His words were whispered through gritted teeth, like he was physically trying to bite them back, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-” He sounded like he was in pain, still breathing raggedly.

Heat flared through your blood, igniting a flame within you that was irresistible. You nodded, letting him see you, “Okay.” Like you could say no to him.

The vocoder nearly didn’t pick up the huff of relief that escaped his lips and he curled his hands into fists again, “Turn around. And close your eyes.” That rough command was back and you were more than obliging to let him navigate this moment.

You turned around, facing the kitchen area, looking over the darkened surroundings before shutting your eyes. It immediately threw all your other senses into overdrive, so you could hear every single rasp of his breath as you exposed your skin to him, and the pounding of your own heart.

“You have to keep them closed. You cannot turn around or look.” There was a desperate plea in his voice, an edge to it that hurt your very soul. He was audibly torn, between his Creed… and this desire that he seemed to have given into.

You nodded again, aching to reach back and reassure him, “I won’t. I won’t open my eyes or turn around until you tell me, I swear on it, Lori.” You let every ounce of truth and understanding seep through your words, praying that it would be enough to convince him he could trust you.

Seemingly, it was, because the next noise that you heard could have struck you dead.

It was the sound of leather rubbing against skin, the friction as they were pulled off, then a soft thump of the material on the floor.

He had taken off his gloves.

He was standing behind you… with his hands bare.

You. A person he hasn’t known for very long at all, and he was partially bare, uncovered.

Your head exploded, a million thoughts racing through it once, sending your heart into overdrive and your own breathing rapid and unsteady.

There was a pause, like he was steeling himself and then… then the slightest sensation, like he was catching the ends of your hair, just brushing them.

That simple movement sent a shiver down your spine, and it was enough to get him to move more. He lifted his hands and then you felt fingers slide into your hair at the back of your head, then slowly, slowly, drag down the length.

You heard a sharp intake of breath behind you, and then a soft mutter, “It’s so soft..” You barely picked it up, even though the ship was silent. The fingers ghosted through your hair again, and his voice was bewildered, “How do you get it this soft in that tiny ‘fresher..” It was like he was talking to himself.

You couldn’t help the soft laugh, a release of tension from this whole thing, “I can’t reveal my secrets, Lori. Can’t have your hair being softer than mine. There’s only room for one on this ship.”

He chuckled, and it ran over your bones like honey, dousing them in such a sweet sensation. “I’ll get it out of you one way or another, princess.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t get the chance to speak because then his fingers were running up your scalp from the base of your head to the crown, with a light pressure and the feeling was so unbelievably good, that you couldn’t help it. Your head leant back into his touch and the faintest sigh left your lips. “Keep doing that..” Your cheeks flushed, embarrassment crashing over you. Why did you have to say that?

The Mandalorian’s hands had paused, absorbing that soft sigh of pleasure and trying to cool his body. But you had a hold over him, he couldn’t say no. He merely did it again, with a firmer press of his fingers against your scalp, a light scrape of his nails just to get you to make that noise again, to be convinced that you were enjoying this just as much as he was.

You didn’t stop the next sigh, this one louder, more delighted. It was like you knew what the other was thinking, could read each other that well.

He was driving you insane, rendering you speechless just from playing with your hair.

You don’t know how long you stood there for, his hands running through the soft locks.

He lifted it slightly, then made a soft noise. “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.”

A tattoo? Oh right.

It was true, you did. It was a delicate piece, spanning from the top of your spine to just above your hips, lining your spine. It showed the phases of the moon, drawn in a minimalist style, with small stars and additional lines coming out of every other piece.

You nodded quickly, “I’ve had it for years.” Fuck, could your voice sound anymore needy?

“What does it mean?” His words were murmured and then the next thing could have had you on your knees.

You heard a sound that had haunted you since the night he nearly died, the sound of leather sliding over skin. The soft plop as it fell to the floor.

No way. Has he just..

His fingers, his bare fingers ghosted down your spine, following the line of it with a touch so fleeting it almost made you whine.

In fact, it did, a whimper rising from deep in your chest.

He was touching you.

His bare skin, skin that he had sworn by Creed to keep covered and hidden until marriage, was trailing down your spine as light as wings.

Pleasure shot straight though you, making your nerves and blood sing, making your knees shake and your belly hot.

A tug on your hair, a tug that was sharp enough to send a faint tinge of pain through your scalp had you moaning, you couldn’t help it. Your lips parted and the moan fell from them, soft, a little high and drawn.

Mando swore under his breath, his whole body twitching behind yours, “I asked you a question, sweetheart.” There was a hoarseness to his voice that hadn’t been there before, a straining note like your moan had shot right through him. Which is had.

What does it mean… what does it mean? Focus!!

“Um… right. When I was on the run, initially in the beginning, I never had a place to call home. Everything I knew had been torn away, and I could never settle anywhere. Every night, I would look up into the sky and watch the moon. No matter what planet I was on, no matter where I was, or if there two moons or 4, it was always there. I only had to look up, and there was something up there to ground me, give me some sense of comfort. It might look smaller, or be a different colour, but it was still the moon. And it made me feel… safe. Like it was a… a companion in a way. I just had to look a little closer, beneath the colours or the distance and there it was. It was always in the sky, so I wanted to get it tattooed so that it would always be with me. No matter if I was outside, as free as I could be, or inside and trapped.” You flushed a little, “That probably makes no sense and sounds so stupid.”

You could sense the Mandalorian shaking his head, his voice still low and soft, “No.. I think it’s beautiful. And I get it. I move around so much too, there’s only a few things that always remain the same. So I know the value of having something familiar.” He ghosted his fingers down it again, trailing all the way down to where the cut out portion of your dress stopped and then back up again.

When his hand reached the top of the tattoo, he slid it up further, cupping the back of your neck in his broad, warm hand.

It sent electricity shooting across your skin, that blazed as he wrapped his thumb and fingers around either side of your neck, just a gentle pressure there.

You moaned again; you didn’t even try to hide it. Your head fell back, exposing your throat to him in a sign of instinctual submission, even though you knew he wouldn’t kiss you. You didn’t mind, you just needed more, more than this teasing touch, more than the faint brush of his fingertips. Your chest shuddered, knuckles white as you gripped the counter in an effort to stay still, “Lori…” You whined his name, hoping it would spark something in him, would force him to do something.

You felt him shudder again, felt his hips draw back from your body like he was trying to hide just what these noises did to him.

Fuck.

It burned you, turned your belly molten and the power that washed over you was heady. You had turned him on just from your hair, your skin and your moans.

The voice that came out was equally as tight, husky and you might have lived and died inside the low baritone “What is it, princess?”

Your fingers curled around the side of the counter in front of you, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face when you whispered, “Please..”. Your voice was low, pleading and aching.

You felt him shudder behind you, a tiny groan echoing through the helmet.

His next words nearly undid you there and then, “Like I could say no to you.”

Then his fingers pressed into your spine, caressing down your back over the tattoo with such admiration, such warmth that it arched slightly, chasing more of that sensation.

Your head was spinning, convinced you were dreaming, that this wasn’t real.

This didn’t happen between you both.

You flirted, sure. But that was harmless, playful.

This… this was real. He was letting you feel his bare skin, uncovered and unhidden.

And it was tearing you apart.

The scrape of his thumbnail on your skin tore you from those thoughts, ripped you back to the present as it ran down the curve of your back. If your eyes had been open, they would have rolled into the back of your head.

Your head fell forward, back arching completely into him and the sound that you let out was sinful. You could only concentrate on the that sharp, pleasurable hurt that you felt in your belly, the feeling of his other hand as it held your shoulder, holding you in that arch.

Heat pooled low in your belly, and every dream, every thought you’d been trying to suppress about him came blasting into full technicolour. All because of his hands.

Those damn hands you’d been pining over since saving his life.

His head was so close over your shoulder that you could hear the low pant of his breath, the coolness of his armour barely brushing your shoulders as you pressed back into him.

Fuck, did he want this as much as you did?

By the way his hand tightened, he had to. You didn’t know how you knew it, but you did.

You swallowed, licking your lips to say something, anything, spur him on but a harsh beeping suddenly broke through the thick tension on the room. A light was flashing, and by the time the fog of pleasure cleared in your head, he was gone.

Gloves picked up and yanked on, boots disappearing up the ladder into the cockpit to check on the autopilot.

The taut sensation in your body snapped, making you sink to the floor as though the strings had been cut.

You lifted shaking hands to your face, burying them in them with a low noise. Your head was a mess, you couldn’t get over it. Couldn’t stop feeling his fingers on your back, your hair. Hear the ragged pant of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against your shoulders.

It was just touch, just the simple act of touch but it had igniting something so fierce within you.

Something had changed.

What the fuck was that?

You sat there on the floor for Maker knows how long, before dragging yourself up and hurrying off in search of a very, very cold shower.

You weren’t quite sure how to face him the next morning.

You had taken your cold shower, and it had done nothing to cool the fire in your blood so you had to take the initiative, hoping the crash of the water and the fact you were biting down the back of your free hand would cover the desperate moans you made.

Little did you know, the Mandalorian was going through the exact same thing, back arched, lips biting into his lip to stop the groans.

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, stop thinking about what had occurred between you.

Surely it broke some kind of rules of his Creed?

He had touched you with his bare skin. You weren’t married. You weren’t together. You didn’t even know his name.

Yet he had touched you and.. reacted to you.

Maybe that was just instinct, his body’s natural response to such things.

But he had carried on… until you were disturbed anyway.

Your head went round and round in these circles until your body had calmed down enough to sleep.

…

You rose early, wanting to be washed, dressed and ready and doing something to occupy you before you had to think too much about what you were going to say. Maybe just… Good morning?

Sure. Good morning was fine.

Normal.

It totally didn’t reveal what you’d had to do in the shower, or the thoughts you were still having about it.

You had this discussion with yourself all the way up the ladder of the cockpit, and when you rose to your height, you blurted it out in a cheery voice before you could bail, “Morning!”

Breezy. Nailed it.

The Mandalorian was sitting in the pilot’s chair, fiddling with controls and levers, gloves firmly on. “Good morning. Did you sleep okay in the heat?”

You nodded, sinking down into the pilots chair and feeding Duru a treat, “Yes, thank you. Finally.” You stroked under Duru’s chin, your eyes straying to those hands as he slide them over some switches.

The same hands that had cupped the back of your neck and trailed fire down your spine.

A flush started to creep along your cheeks, so you quickly looked away, “Did you?”

The light bounced off of his helmet as he nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

Polite. His words were polite. Almost... distant.

Okay… Okay, so maybe he just feels awkward?

You bit your bottom lip, worried if you should say something.

No, leave it. He no doubt feels over-exposed and maybe shy about what happened last night. Don’t bring it up. Just act normal.

You nodded faintly to yourself and returned your attention back to Duru.

Mando was ignoring you.

You had been trying to deny it, but he most certainly was.

Yesterday, he had engaged in talking to you now and then throughout the day, but only passing comments and a few spare words.

You had spoken more when you were beating the shit out of each other.

You kept telling yourself that it was just lingering awkwardness from how to go back to normal after that night, but the gnawing in your gut told you otherwise.

It had been shouting at you this morning when he had parked the ship on a planet, announced he was going hunting and he’d be back in a few hours.

Then he’d just gone.

You had waited for him all day, mooched around the ship, played with Grogu and Duru and tried not to worry.

You sat up for hours, even when the little ones had gone to sleep, waiting to talk to him.

You’d convinced yourself that you should talk about. You should tell him you didn’t expect anything from him. That you didn’t hate him, that he didn’t hurt you or anything like that.

Just to tell him whatever you needed to stop this frostiness.

You had it all planned, had every phrase and comment worked out to stop this atmosphere.

About 15 minutes ago, you’d heard the ramp open. 3 minutes after that, the hiss and echo of the carbonite chamber.

Then you’d heard him go and check on the kid, then go to his quarters.

And now, it was his booted feet on the steps to the cockpit that held your attention.

You took a deep breath, prayed to the Maker and spun your seat to face him as he rose up.

The mere sight of that beskar-clad body set your heart thumping, but you coaxed an easy smile on your lips anyway. “Hey, how was the hunt? Cause you any trouble?”

Mando didn’t turn his head to look at you, just padded over to his seat and spun it to the control panel, “It was fine. Easy.” His words were clipped, not harsh, just… efficient. Straight to the point.

You swallowed, your courage faltering a little.

Mentally, you scolded yourself. You didn’t falter in the face of a man who’d touched you and now wouldn’t talk to you. You didn’t whimper and pander to a tense atmosphere.

You sat up a little straighter, pulling your shoulders back and you looked over at him.

Now or never.

“About the other night-”

“I’m taking you to Nevarro.”

What?

You had both spoken at the same time, your eyes now bewildered as you beheld him. “What?”

He said nothing, just fiddled with some controls.

“Mando, what do you mean?” Your voice was shocked, but steady. Did nothing to betray the shock that had just hit your chest like a punch.

You didn’t hear him swallow, only heard his words, “I’m taking you to Nevarro. We’re on the way now.” He said them softly, evenly.

Hearing it again only made your heart drop to somewhere around your waist.

He was leaving you. Dumping you on some planet. And going.

Your hand tapped your leg as sort of nervous habit, and then the words were out, “Is this because of the other night?”

It was his turn to sound bewildered, his head just turning to the side, but you knew he couldn’t see you in his peripheral, “What? What do you mean?”

Your heart was starting to beat uncomfortably in your chest, a sense of shame beginning to creep over you, “Because of what happened in the kitchen. I didn’t see you, I didn’t see your skin.”

Mando turned to face you, one hand still on the panel, his hair half turned but head rotated all the way to look at you, “No, no it’s not because of that-“

You cut him off, “You didn’t… you didn’t offend me. Or hurt me. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry if.. if my reaction made you feel awkward or think something. I don’t.. I don’t expect anything from you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I never have, so please don’t think that.” You flushed, the shame colouring your cheeks. You couldn’t help it. But this was the reason, right? The only reason why he would be dumping you.

He shook his head, “Stop. Stop..” His voice softened slightly, “No. It’s not because of… that. I know you didn’t see me. And I know you don’t expect anything from me.” He took a breath, “I’m taking you to Nevarro to keep you safe. That’s all. I have friends there, Cara Dune and Greef Karga. They’ll look after you. They’ve already set up accommodation for you, so you don’t need to worry about that.

They already knew?

Something like hurt flashed in your eyes, colouring your tone, “They… You already planned this..?” There was no bite in your voice like you would normally have in this situation, you were too shocked by the sudden change in direction your journey was taking.

Mando tilted his head, “I contacted them whilst I was on the hunt… I wanted it set up before we got there, so you wouldn’t stand out to anyone looking.” He still looked at you, “Is that okay?”

You sensed you wouldn’t have a choice in this. So you decided to take the high road. You wouldn’t whine about this.

You smoothed your expression over into a mask of calm, “Yes… I was just a little surprised that’s all. But thank you, really. I’ll… set about packing my things.”

He sounded confused, his head tilting back to watch you rise from your chair, “We have a couple of days yet.”

You nodded, “Oh, I know, I just want to make sure I have everything. And all the things I want to steal from you.” You laughed, even going so far as to nudge his shoulder before escaping.

You were gone to quickly, so you wouldn’t have seen the way he slumped in his chair, dropped his head into his hands. You wouldn’t have heard the pained sigh that escaped his lips at the thought have having to part with you.

The Mandalorian stood at the top of the ramp with you, staring out across the dusty, volcanic terrain of Nevarro. Your new home for… however long.

You said nothing, running your fingers along the edge of your cloak, observing the landscape and trying not to let any emotion show on your face. You had kept up natural conversation the past few days. Saying nothing of the wrenching pain that tore in your chest every time you remembered you were departing.

Mando cleared his throat, one arm holding Grogu and the other hand resting on his hip in a gesture that was becoming painfully familiar, “Cara and Greef know you’re coming. They’ll be waiting in Cara’s office for you.”

Grogu was sulking, squirming every now and then to try and get out of Mando’s grip. He had screamed the whole morning, and only calmed down when you hugged him and sung to him on the way here.

You nodded, also trying to ignore the thoughts swirling round in your mind as to why he was leaving you here. Was it because of your argument? The way you had broken down in front of him? Or was it because of the other night? The way his fingers had run through your hair, and then trailed down your spine, mapping your tattoo. His bare fingers. The things he’d whispered to you, “I just... I need to do this, please… I’m sorry, but I cant-”

“I’ve been thinking about this for days..”

Had he known then that he was going to leave you here? Or was it after that, that he’d decided he had broken one too many rules and had to get rid of you.

Words floated over to you, and you realised he was talking again so you hauled your attention back to the conversation at hand.

“-safe here. No one will come looking for you. Greef has taken all the pucks that have come through with your name on them and Cara will do sweeps every couple of days to make sure.”

You looked down at your feet, a bitter feeling leeching through your veins that was getting stronger with every moment you got closer to leaving the Crest.

“Hey… look at me..”

It was that honey softness of the Mandalorian’s tone that finally had you looking up at him, your expression perfectly masked to hide every ounce of emotion in you aside from a calm neutrality.

He tilted his head a little, turning his body toward you, “Please don’t think I’m dumping you here. I had planned to bring you here since I destroyed the puck and the fob.”

Like that made you feel any better.

He must have read the flicker in your eyes, because he stepped closer, his hand lifting to your upper arm, “I want you to be safe.” You could almost feel his eyes boring into yours, “I am more than grateful for everything you’ve done for me. And the kid. More than you’ll ever know. But, travelling with me.. it only increases the target on your back. People know you’re with me. I don’t want that for you.. you deserve to be free..”

And what about what I want?

You only smiled, forcing your expression to one of a lighter one and you nudged him gently, “Hey, I get it. You have to get rid of me because I’m showing you up on hunts. Can’t have anyone destroying your infamous reputation.” You rolled your eyes, laughing even if it did send daggers into your heart.

And his.

He squeezed your shoulder playfully, then dropped his hand. “You’re hilarious. I told you, the day you beat me is the day the stars implode.” You could feel a line of humour in his voice though, and it softened your shoulders, made you relax.

He was doing this to keep you safe. He had planned this for weeks so you could have a break, a chance to rest.

So, you lifted your head a little higher, your smile becoming more real. “Thank you, Mando. For everything. I can’t ever repay you for this, for what you’ve done.” You motioned to the outside.

He nodded, his hand resting at his sides again now, “We’ll call it even.” His head remained focused on you, lingering on you and then he reached into a pouch and held out his free hand, “Here.”

You let him drop the objects in your hand, a small stack of credits.

“It’s not much, I know, but it’ll be enough to get you some food and supplies you need. You don’t need to worry about a place to stay, Cara will show you but… You can get what you want and need.” He withdrew his hand slowly, almost reluctantly.

You swallowed, closing your hand around the credits and you slipped them into the pocket inside your cloak. “Thank you..”

The Mandalorian merely nodded again, leaning back against the threshold of the ramp, his thumb absently rubbing circles on Grogu’s belly.

It seemed that there was nothing else to draw this goodbye out, so you took a breath, straightening your cloak. “Well… I guess I’ll say goodbye then.” You looked up at him, then stuck out your hand for his, realising only a few seconds later how dumb that was.

Before you could pull your hand back, he reached out and clasped your hand in his own, wrapping his fingers around your distinctly smaller hand. “Goodbye… princess.” You heard the smirk in his voice, and you couldn’t help the chuckle and the eye roll again, not failing to notice the way his hand tightened involuntarily and then withdrew.

You looked at Grogu in his other arm, who was still avoiding looking at the pair of you, wriggling in his father’s arms. You bent down to draw your face to his level and you stroked his ears, “I’ll miss you, little guy. Make sure to keep your dad on his toes, okay? You gotta make up for both of us now.” You pressed a kiss to the top of his head, feeling his little hand pat your cheek with a mournful noise. Tears burned the back of your eyes, so you leant back, instead picking up Duru so she could say goodbye.

Grogu cooed sadly again, stroking Duru’s cheek, looking up at her with his glossy eyes.

You let Duru but her head against him, chitter a goodbye and then you stepped back, allowing her to climb up your shoulders as you looked up at Mando.

You just watched him for a moment, his armour reflecting the light on one side and then, with a soft inhale of courage, you turned and walked down the ramp, Duru padding at your feet.

You had only just cleared the ramp, stepping onto the hard, compacted ground when Mando called out, “Wait.”

You turned quickly, hope blooming in your heart, in your expression though you tried to stop it.

He had made a step onto the ramp, body poised like it was trying to run to you but he was holding back. He hesitated, almost as if he were torn with what to say – or what not to say, but all that came out was, “Ret'urcye mhi.”

You couldn’t help the shiver that licked down your spine, the way his voice turned into dripping honey when he spoke Mando’a. “What does that mean..?” You prayed he couldn’t hear the slight hoarseness to your tone.

He tilted his head down to look at Grogu, then lifted it back up to you, “It means goodbye…. And maybe we’ll meet again..”

Your heart swelled a little, a flush of pain going through it but you smiled softer, your expression melting and you inclined your head slightly, “I would like that.. very much…”

There were a million other things that threatened to roll off your tongue, pour from you but before they could, you turned around, walking toward the town and feeling his eyes on you the entire time, burning into the back of your head like a fiery brand.

You were about 4 metres away when you heard Grogu start crying, when your own tears broke through and spilled down your cheeks. You kept walking, even when your vision began to blur and go fuzzy.

So you didn’t see the way Mando hugged Grogu closer, whispered, “I know, kid, I don’t want her to go either.”

You’d be okay. It would be fine.

So you and the Mandalorian were parting. It was no big deal. You had helped each other; you had returned each other’s debts. You owed each other nothing.

The sound of engines whirring filtered into your ears, and you waited until you heard the Crest lift from the ground before turning round.

You paused, wiping your cheeks as the ship that had become a haven of sorts lifted into the sky. It hovered for a second, as if hesitating and then shot up higher, taking with it the two people that you had come to mean more to you than you realised. It felt like the Razor Crest had taken your heart with it.

How comes you hadn’t realised before how much they meant?

Too late now.

You remained watching the sky, long after the ship had vanished into the atmosphere.

With a shuddering breath, you wiped your cheeks. You kissed Duru’s tail, and then returned to walking toward the town.

You’d be okay… right?

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin blurb #grogu #the force #star wars #rogue

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mandoclan · 3 years

Text

COURAGE // Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x F!Reader

A/N: I just really love Din, and this is possibly the easiest thing I’ve ever written. This is my take on a “5 times Din realized he loved me and the one time he did something about it.” Set about two months after saving the kid (middle of season 1). In my mind, it took over a year for Din to return Grogu to his kind.

Warnings: Mentions of violence and blood and a wound (you get shot), major fluff, conflicting feelings, marriage talk.

The first time Din realized he loved you, he froze. The sight of you with the sleeping kid strapped to your chest while you asked a trader in the market questions about your cooking arrangements on the Razor Crest warmed him. He overheard you asking about ingredients and cooking methods and snacks for the kid and even for him and his heart almost burst.

“Thank the maker for this helmet,” Din muttered as he watched you. He’d just settled the bill with another trader for some extra blankets and clothing for you, knowing you’d been nicking his tunics when you thought he wasn’t looking. He knew you didn’t have much from the planet he picked you up on, and hoped this would be helpful even if he couldn’t deny that the sight of you in his well-worn clothes was something he could get used to.

“Mando!” You called, breaking him from his concentration. “Are you ready to go? I got the supplies you asked for, but they’re a bit heavy and I don’t want to squash him.” You gestured to the kid, asleep and drooling on your shirt. You didn’t seem to mind though, and Mando found himself smiling at the sight, fingers gently rubbing the kid’s big, green ears. He babbled a bit in his sleep and you smiled down at his adopted son.

“I’ll grab the crate. Meet me back on the ship, okay?”

“Perfect. Thank you!” you pressed a kiss to his helmet where his cheek should be and walked away, murmuring to the kid as you did.

“Your dad’s gonna get the big heavy crate and then you can have some cookies later, you silly little womp rat. Your buir spoils you.”

He couldn’t deny it, he loved when you spoke mando’a, or at least the few words he’d taught you. Din shook his head, his cheeks heated as he picked up the crate and followed along behind you.

The second time Din realized he loved you, he smiled.

He’d been on a hunt for three days, one of his quarries giving him more trouble than he had expected. He’d come back to the ship to find you’d cleaned everything, put the kid to sleep, and even made up his sleeping area. He suspected you’d been cooking too, judging by the smell.

He’d caught a whiff of it when he came in, but hadn’t expected to find a plate with the food still hot up in the cockpit. You were up there as well, trying to put the silver ball the kid always liked stealing back on the controls.

“I made you a plate.” You smiled at him once you noticed him standing behind you, flustered as you tried replacing the ball. It wouldn’t attach, and Din placed his hand on yours to still you. You moved your hand.

“Sorry,” you stuttered, not making eye contact, “he took it again. I wanted to have it back on before you came up here.”

“It’s okay. He can keep it.” Din gave the ball back, and you smiled nervously. “Really, it’s okay.”

“Okay,” you murmured, heading towards the hatch. “Don’t let your food get cold.”

Once you’d left the room, he locked the hatch door and removed his helmet. Din had originally planned to move on to Nevarro immediately to hand over his bounties, but the food was enticing and won him over. After all, you’d said not to let it get cold and it smelled amazing after the ration bars he’d been eating on his hunt.

He took a bite and was a goner. “Maker, I don’t know what I did to deserve her.”

The third time Din realized he loved you, he hid.

He’d been coming back inside from cleaning his blasters to find you in one of his shirts again, singing softly to the kid.

Din didn’t recognize the song, it being in your mother tongue and not in the basic you usually spoke, but it was nice coming from your lips. From the look of things, the kid liked it too as he cooed up at you, his clawed fingers reaching for your cheeks.

You smiled down at the kid in between lines of the lullaby and he laughed when you tickled his little sides.

Din stayed where he was by the blast doors, just watching you both interact. He was struck with the thought that if this was family, his aliit, he wanted to keep it forever. But did you feel the same?

He frowned at himself, disappointed in his lack of courage. You placed the now sleeping kid in his hammock above Din’s bed and murmured goodnight before closing the door.

Din kept himself hidden outside until after you’d climbed up to the cockpit before replacing his weaponry in the hold. He didn’t want to interrupt you before, but now he missed your warm presence. He sighed, wishing he’d been able to hold you as you sang.

The fourth time Din realized he loved you, he sat there in disbelief.

He looked at his spare tunics and pants, then at one of his capes, and then his spare duraweave flight suit. All of them had previously been riddled with hastily sewn up holes (Din had never been very good at sewing). But now—now they were fixed. In fact, you could hardly tell they’d been damaged at all (except for that one cape he’d worn with a particularly nasty bounty who’d ripped huge holes in the cape. That one, you’d put patches in).

“Cyare!” Din called from where he stood at the edge of his quarters.

“Yes, Mando?” you looked up from your cooking to see him staring over at you. You didn’t know what the word meant, the name he kept calling you, but you figured it probably meant nanny or mechanic. After all, isn’t that what you were.

“Did you fix my clothes?” he asked pointedly as he lifted his cloak.

You smiled down at the soup you had simmering down on the stove range and nodded, not making anymore eye contact with the helmet’s dark visor.

“Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.” Din smiled under his helmet, but you shrugged.

“I didn’t want you to get sick from all the holes in your clothing. You should really be more careful, big guy. We need you here.”

Din didn’t know what to say, but he managed a curt nod and attached the cape to his shoulders.

“I’m going out,” Din told you and you looked up at him once more. “I should be back in a few hours, but I’ll use the comm link if something goes wrong.”

“Be safe.” you murmured as he disappeared down the ramp. You didn’t realize how much he loved those words.

The fifth time Din realized he loved you, he was holding his hand to a nasty wound on your thigh and cursing in Mando’a.

“Mando, please.” You whimpered in pain. It hurt like hell, but it burned at the same time.

“Hold on, cyare, it’s going to be okay.” He worked swiftly to stop the bleeding and sprayed some of his emergency bacta spray on the sizzling wound.

Din blamed himself completely. You’d asked to go to the pond near the landing zone for the Razor Crest before he’d set out for the new bounty so you could wash the clothes you’d all been wearing for weeks. His quarry was supposed to be peaceful, whatever the species, but it hadn’t been. It knew he was coming and it aimed for the both of you. In the process of you turning to shield his son from being hit, you caught a nasty blaster shot to the thigh.

“Just a little more.” He said, removing his fingers from the spot and holding you closer as the spray started to heal your leg. You cried out, struggling against his beskar. He knew from experience that the wound didn’t really hurt anymore, but the healing was uncomfortable.

“I’m almost done. You’re going to be okay, cyar’ika. You’re okay.” he said just loud enough to be heard with the vocoder as he shushed you.

The pain and desperation you’d been dealing with to keep the child safe had exhausted you, and Din soon realized you’d slumped unconscious against him. He sighed, struggling slightly to pick you up and set you in his quarters instead of your own. If you asked when you woke up, he’d just argue that his bed was closer.

While he blamed himself for your pain, he was overcome with how much he loved you. You would willingly have sacrificed your life for his foundling, and you were injured in the process, but maker did he love you. You were protective and so caring, and you’d won him over.

Din watched you sleeping for a moment, fingertips brushing your sweaty hair from your face. He sighed, wishing he had the courage to tell you how he felt. You didn’t even know his name, despite you traveling together for an entire cycle by now. Din closed his quarters’ door and stepped away, knowing if he spent any more time there that he might be willing to do anything for you, including giving up everything he knows. What would that feel like?

Two days later, you watched Din as he moved about the ship in hyperspace. He hadn’t said a word to you since you’d been shot, and you feared the worst. You were afraid he saw you as a nuisance now, not having been able to take care of keeping the child safe as well as yourself even though the kid was fine and you’d been the one who’d gotten hurt. Did he want you to leave?

“Mando,” you asked nervously, waiting for him to even acknowledge you.

He hesitated before answering. “Yes?”

“What’s going on with you? You haven’t spoken to me since, well—“ You cut yourself off and twiddled your fingers in your lap, unsure of his response. You heard a crackling through the vocoder and looked up to see him walking closer to where you sat on a few supply crates in the hold.

“It’s my fault,” he started, “that you got hurt. It’s my fault. You’re my—“ He stopped just as suddenly as he’d started.

“Your what, Mando?” you asked softly. He stood beside you, taking your hands in his gloved ones.

“Gar ner aliit.” He answered finally. “You’re my family, my clan. I love you.”

“Really?” you gasped, tears brimming your eyes. He shocked you with this confession, but in a very good way.

“I would never lie to you, mesh’la. I love you. The way you have cared for me and my foundling, and chosen me over and over again has won me over, cyar’ika.”

“Oh Mando—“

“Din. My name, it’s Din Djarin. You should know it.”

“You have a beautiful name.” Your voice was quiet as you continued, “All those things you said I do, I do it because I love you. I care for no one else in this whole galaxy more than I care for you.”

Din brought his helmeted head down to lean against your forehead in a keldabe kiss. Your eyes closed briefly and he brought your hands up to where his mouth would be beneath the beskar.

“If you would have me, I intend to make you my riduur, my wife.” Din said, the vocoder catching on his words. “And when I do, I will bare all for you as you have already bared my soul.”

Your voice shook as you breathed out a “yes” and surged up to hug him. He wasn’t expecting the movement and nearly stumbled from the force of it, but he smiled beneath his helmet and laughed happily. He would always be grateful for the courage he had to bare his soul to you and for you to take it and keep it safe inside your heart.

Taglist: @bestintheparsec @softpedropascal @sanchosammy @scribbledghost @clan-djarin

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #mandolorian x reader #mando #mando x reader #the mandalorian #fluff #baby yoga #grogu #Star Wars #mandoclan #mandoclan writes

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mandalwhorean · 3 years

Text

Trials in Parenting

Rating: Minor Depictions of violence, General Audience

Word Count: 1417

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN! Reader

Summary: Din is gone on a hunt, Grogu is grumpy, and reader has no patience left for any unexpected guests

Warnings: blood and minor character death mentioned.

X posted: AO3

Three days, he was just supposed to be gone for three days. That changed when Mando called through the comm link on the morning of the third day and told you that he would be gone for another week. Usually that would be fine, but this planet was too dangerous to explore. Mando had told you to activate the ground safety protocol which would mean you and Grogu were stuck on the ship.

During the first few days, keeping the child entertained was easier. The day would include dancing and singing with him, coloring on some paper, a nap after lunch, eating meals together, a bath to keep him clean, and storytelling before bed. There was a little routine when the beskar clad hunter was away, everything was going fine until suddenly it wasn’t.

Near the end of the week, Grogu didn’t want to dance anymore, his whining and pushing away was a clear enough message that he was unhappy in your arms. During lunchtime his soup wasn’t appetizing any more and he would spill it on purpose, insisting on only eating cookies. He also didn’t want to color on paper anymore, choosing to work on the side of a few crates while you were cleaning up his spilled soup. There was no after lunch nap, he would stand in his hammock and cry until he was released from the prison he called a bed. For dinner the child chose a protein bar over the cookies this time, but only ate half of it. After his evening bath that he was also starting to hate, he changed his tune and became clingy. Insisting on accompanying you even to the bathroom, needing to be in your arms to prevent him from crying. His little green claws held on to your tunic with the strength of someone twice his size. Even in his sleep he would let out an ear piercing cry if you tried to put him in his hammock above your bed.

This carried on for a few days when one morning you woke up to a beeping coming from the cockpit. Luckily the child was sleeping on his back, snoring softly so you carefully moved out of the bed, slipped on your boots and locked the door when you left the makeshift room. Ascending to the cockpit, you check the security and there were two lifeforms moving towards the Crest, two twi’leks and no Mando. You watched as they began to close in on the back of the ship, silently cursing, you looked down at your commlink before sliding down to the hull.

“He’s busy… I’ve got this.” You said to yourself, walking over to the storage where the weapons were kept and grabbed a viroblade to stuff in your boot and two blasters, one placed on your left hip in a holster.

Moving silently and quickly through the hull to hide, you open up the rear entrance to have the advantage of choosing where the invaders would enter. The sound of shoes against metal coming up into the ship alerted you that it was time to defend your home. Once the footsteps were close enough you jumped out of hiding and shot at the first twi’lek you saw, a blue one and she dropped the blaster as one of your shots landed on her hand. Ducking again for cover, you only take a few breaths before peaking up and shooting at the other green twi’lek and missing. He grunts and makes his approach to your cover, and he pushes the crates to make you jump out and expose yourself. Running to the other side of the ship, the blue twi’lek catches your shoulder with her blaster.

You don’t give them much time to regroup before shooting at the blue twi’lek and catching her in the chest a few times, leaving her on the floor with a big thud. The green twi’lek lets out a growl before advancing over her body and towards you. In the midst of returning fire and dodging blasts, you both pause when you hear the unmistakable cry of your adopted son. The angry green twi’lek drops his blaster following the cry to your son. Your feet carried you as fast as they could and you launched yourself onto the back of the green twi'lek, he tried to shake you off but after failing, got a grip on your wounded shoulder and threw you to the floor in front of him, his foot quickly finding its way to your chest.

“You killed one of mine, now I will kill one of yours.” He applied more weight to his heel, effectively stopping your lungs from fully expanding, slowly suffocating you.

Call it parental instincts or just survival instincts, but the viroblade was removed from your boot and quickly slashed across the bottom of his calf, cutting through his Achilles tendon and causing him to crumble to the ground next to you while howling in pain.

Finally able to breathe again you gasp and grab the second blaster from your waist and shoot at the twi’lek next to you until you don’t hear his howling anymore and he isn’t moving. You rest on the ground, the only sounds on the ship being Grogu’s crying and your ragged breathing.

Eventually, your breathing is back to normal and you sit up, looking at the two dead twi’leks and wish Din was home to put them outside for you. You drag yourself to your feet and pull the smaller twi’lek first, leaving her in the dirt and out of the way of the ramp. The bigger twi’lek required more effort that your wounded shoulder did not appreciate. The floor would need to be cleaned but the baby was more important. Shutting the ramp you removed your tunic and used it to clean up the rest of the blood on your body and threw it on the floor to be cleaned later.

Unlocking the bedroom, you see the little green baby still crying his eyes out and reaching his little claws toward you. You grab the baby and let him hang on to your unwounded shoulder and try to comfort him by rubbing his petal ears as he sniffles.

“I know little one, what a rough way to wake up.” A kiss to the top of his head had him snuggling into your chest, in desperate search of comfort.

Returning to the main hull, you were digging through a crate for two ration bars when the commlink was activated and Din’s voice crackled through “Cyare.”

With the push of a button you were responding, “Here, what’s up?”

His voice responded, “Be home in 30 minutes, wait in the cockpit.”

“Got it, see you soon.” You sighed and looked at Grogu. “Buir is almost back, better clean up.”

At the mention of his father, the green bean perked up and gurgled. You set him on the crate next to the ration packs and gave him one to munch on while you cleaned up the ship and got rid of all the blood. By the time Din returned, you were in the cockpit with Grogu and a new shirt, cleaning up the blaster shot with some bacta. There was a woosh of the carbonite freezer that was shortly followed by the clinking of metal as Din climbed up to his family. He sat in the pilot’s chair and started the trip toward Nevarro before looking you up and down.

“Was there a scuffle?” Of course Din had noticed the dead twi’leks and the slightly unorganized hull.

“We had an eventful morning, you missed out.” Grogu was whining in your lap again and reaching for his buir so being the great parent you are you handed Grogu over, “That’s not counting the wonderful days we had full of crying and being grumpy.”

“Are you okay?” He knew you looked fine in front of him, but he learned that checking in directly never hurt.

You pulled your shirt to the side and showed him the blaster shot, “Grazed, cleaned it and applied bacta.” Your shoulder was once again covered by fabric and you squeezed his shoulder, “It’s nothing, you saw the other guys.” A teasing tone to your voice.

There was a click and a hiss as Din removed his helmet and set it down, “You’re sexy when you protect our son, riduur.” You hummed and leaned down to press your lips against his. Your family is safe, your family is together.

#din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #grogu #no y/n #canon typical violence

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cutieodonoghue · 3 years

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the edge of hope (1/9)

summary: canon divergent au; when Din left Sorgan to protect the Child, he left the woman he’d fallen in love with, not knowing he’d also left behind something else. Or, Omera and Winta join Mando and Grogu on their season 2 adventures. Mandomera!

Read the first chapter below the cut or on AO3!

The Secret

Before Omera discovered she was expecting her daughter Winta, she had an instinct. It was warm, this feeling, tingling along her flesh in goosebumps in a way that mirrored a cool breeze. Even before she knew for certain, with signs and symptoms, she knew.

Just as she knew now.

She lay in her bed with the realization sitting heavy against her chest. It seemed to just happen, the knowledge that she was going to be a mother for the second time. Unprompted, but certainly not unwanted.

Her fingers fell to her middle, tracing a delicate circle over her bellybutton.

Would it be a boy this time? A boy with dark hair and eyes. A boy with a calm dominance like his father?

Or perhaps it would be another girl. Winta would love a baby sister.

She listened to the sounds of the night. Her palm settled against her still-flat belly.

Her unborn child’s father had left the planet of Sorgan only a few weeks ago, but it almost felt like it had been years. They’d grown close while he was in the village. So close, indeed, that she’d invited him into her arms and bid him farewell with the most tender of embraces.

Omera had never seen the Mandalorian’s face, but his voice she would never forget. A whisper in her ear, breaking, “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

She’d understood, of course, even though she’d tried her hardest to get him to stay. To settle down and raise his son in the village. To stay for her. It was selfish, but the way she felt for him was too strong to ignore - she needed to fight for it.

And perhaps now, she could understand why.

Omera didn’t know how to contact the Mandalorian, and at the time it hadn’t been important to learn. They’d just been two strangers brought together by the most incredible circumstances. Both of them were parents to children they swore their lives to protect. They were drawn together by fate and pulled apart by timing.

In another life, maybe she would have offered to travel with him instead of staying put. It was for Winta’s sake that she stayed. Sorgan was their home. Their people were on Sorgan.

It wouldn’t be wise to try and find a way to share her news, she decided, for sake of the Mandalorian’s mission. Protecting the Child was his prime task, and she knew that if they’d stayed, the Child would only be hunted each and every day.

Perhaps, Omera thought, when she knew for certain that this feeling that covered her like a warm blanket was true, she could make her way to the place where Cara Dune had mentioned she’d be.

For the time being, she would just have to imagine what life could have been, were it not for the forces acting against them.

Two Months Later

Din Djarin sat in the cockpit of his ship. The Child he’d been quested to care for rested in the seat beside him, almost suspiciously quiet. With the bounty off of their heads, they would finally be free to move on to their next task: finding the Jedi.

It seemed like an impossible feat. He didn’t know any Jedi, and he didn’t know where to begin his search. He only knew that the Mandalorians and Jedi were adversaries. Maybe, if he could find another Mandalorian, they would have a clearer picture of where a Jedi could be found.

But something made him stop short. His fingers hovered over the navigation computer as if frozen.

So easily he drove himself into the ground solving one problem that could lead him to his next trouble. It was how he’d made a living, before.

“You and your boy could have a good life. He could be a child for a while. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Omera’s words seemed to return to him every time he had even just a moment for himself.

They hadn’t had enough time together. He’d found himself with an itch to run, to return to life as usual, and then a more paternal need to protect the kid took over.

He shut his eyes, thinking back to the way she’d felt in his arms that night before he decided to go. She’d been so kind. So loving.

“You were brought here for a reason,” she’d told him in a whisper, “and I know it’s selfish, but I wish it was for me.”

Since he left Sorgan, when Din closed his eyes to rest, he thought of the way her lips curled into a smile. He thought of her laugh, and the way she sighed when they were so intimately together.

Turning in his chair, he looked to the Child, who peered up at him with a curious quirk of his head. He cooed, thoughtful, and Din took a deep breath. This was his son, according to the Armorer, which meant that he would raise him as his own for however long it took to reunite him with his kind.

“Before we go look for a Jedi, I want to stop somewhere,” Din said. “We won’t take long. I just need to make things right first. Honor is an important part of my creed.”

He’d left Sorgan, and Omera, without a promise of his return, and he hadn’t intended upon revisiting.

Things had changed so quickly, as they’d seemed to since the arrival of the Child in his life.

He had almost died just a short time ago. He could still see that beckoning darkness when he closed his eyes. His entire clan had been scattered and slain. He and the Child were on their own.

There was nothing stopping him from returning to Sorgan again other than his own pride. Yet, his pride was smothered by another feeling altogether: guilt.

On a heavy sigh, he prayed that it wouldn’t be a mistake to return, that Omera wouldn’t cast him away after what he’d done, and entered in the coordinates for Sorgan.

Omera’s body began to swell much sooner than she anticipated.

Her bump wasn’t very noticeable, but it provided her even more proof that the feeling she’d had was true: she was expecting a baby.

There was gossip around the village about who the father might be, but she never gave them any hints. It wasn’t hard to guess. Their village was a small place where everyone knew each other almost too well.

Perhaps she had been too obvious about the way she felt while he was with them, and then for the days that followed his departure. She’d kept to herself when he left, feeling sorrowful in a way that didn’t make sense. They weren’t meant to be together, so why was it so difficult to let him go?

When she told her news to Winta, her daughter had screamed with delight and immediately cradled her small bump, giving it affectionate kisses and whispers.

Now that she knew that she truly was expecting, Omera often laid awake at night thinking about how she should get a message to the Mandalorian. She’d heard he had come to Sorgan a short while ago, taking Cara Dune with him in haste.

It hurt that he wouldn’t have even bothered to visit, but again, she understood. The Child must have been in danger. Cara was a fighter, and a good one at that.

With a hand on her belly, Omera sat upright in her bed. It was the middle of the night, and she was unable to sleep. She’d found herself too wound up thinking of all the ways she could tell the Mandalorian about this unexpected surprise that came from their union.

She’d need to tell him soon if he was going to be involved. If he’d want to be. She was sure he would want to know, if only to be aware of what paths lay ahead of him.

Omera stood and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. She checked briefly on her daughter, still soundly sleeping, before putting her feet into a pair of boots at the hut door.

The outside was much cooler at night, but not unlivable. She stepped quietly to the chair on the porch and sat in it, her focus turning to the stars.

Sometimes, she liked to imagine her Mandalorian was doing the same.

Suddenly, she saw a ship break the atmosphere, flying steadily in the direction of a landing nearby. Something about the ship was familiar in a way that made her heart jump in her chest.

Could it be? Had he returned?

If it was him, all of her dreams would be answered. She would have the chance to share her news. Perhaps she could even share her feelings. Would he feel the same for her?

Omera sat on the porch for a few hours, gazing up at the night sky. She didn’t know if the Mandalorian had plans to return to the village, so she didn’t hold onto any hope that he would.

Instead, Omera soothed a hand over her middle and dreamt of the life she would have with two children in her care. It wouldn’t be easy, but she loved being a mother to Winta. She knew her heart would swell with love for the new child, too.

She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but she awoke to the sounds of the dawn. The sun barely kissed the horizon and the sky glowed with warmth of the coming morning.

Omera turned her focus to the hunger rising within her and walked toward the food storage, where she’d be able to get something small to eat before she’d wake Winta for the day.

“Omera.”

Her heart leapt at the familiarity of the sound that came from a voice modulator.

Before her, she found the Mandalorian, just as she remembered him, holding in one arm his boy, still just as small as he’d been before.

He was on Sorgan to see her again. He came back.

Omera wasn’t sure if he’d noticed the swell of her belly, but she was too overwhelmed to care.

“You’re here.”

The Mandalorian gave the slightest nod while Omera closed the distance between them. He stood just at the edge of the village, far enough out that his presence wouldn’t have caused a scene.

“Is your boy safe?”

Again, he nodded. “We’re no longer being hunted.”

Hopeful, Omera allowed herself to get a little carried away with her thoughts. Maybe he had come here for her. Maybe if they weren’t being hunted, that meant he was ready for the life she’d offered him here.

“Does that mean you’re back for good?”

He was silent. The Child cooed, looking up at the Mandalorian with curiosity. He met the Child’s gaze and shook his head ever so slightly.

“No. I have been given a task to find his kind. The Jedi.”

Omera’s eyes widened. “He’s a Jedi?”

“Yes.”

She studied the Child, a soft smile filling her face. “I knew he was a special boy.”

The morning sounds were pretty in her ears, suddenly brighter in sound than they had been in the time the Mandalorian had been gone away from Sorgan. The warm glow of the sunrise seemed fuller, too.

“I want to apologize,” the Mandalorian said. “For leaving the way I did.”

“You needed to protect your boy. Any parent would have done the same.”

He nodded. He seemed quieter than he’d been before. She had to wonder what he’d been through these past few months.

“I almost died,” he explained. “We were pinned down by stormtroopers in Nevarro. I… took my helmet off.”

Her eyes widened. He’d been so adamant before that it couldn’t be removed. “You did?”

“It was the only way. A nurse droid saved my life.”

Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed in a different way. While she was in the village, harvesting krill and living her life on Sorgan, he was out there, very nearly having lost his life.

Tears found her eyes and she reached with one hand to place it on the cool of his beskar helmet. She wished she could touch his warm cheek, to comfort him in a way she’d never been able to, and likely never would.

“You’re free to stay here as long as you need.” Omera smiled. It took a conscious effort to be polite when she wished she could be something more. “Recover from battle. Prepare for the next leg of your journey.”

The Mandalorian surprised her when his hand found hers over his helmet. The familiarity of the feeling brought her back to his last morning on Sorgan.

“You didn’t have to come back here,” Omera said, still trying to understand why he’d come.

“I wanted to,” the Mandalorian told her. He paused, shifting on his feet just enough that she realized how close they stood together. “I wanted to see you.”

Omera took a deep breath and pulled her hand away from his. She could only imagine what seeing death like he had felt like. What sorts of things had he thought about as the realization came?

“Why?”

She could sense a struggle. He paused for a few beats longer than necessary, and when he spoke, it was softer, as if exposing a part of himself he was afraid of.

“I thought about you.” The Mandalorian averted his gaze, looking at his son in his arm. “I almost died, and all I could think about as I was lying there was you.”

Her heart skipped a beat in surprise. In his final moments, he thought about her.

Now she understood why he had come back again.

Around them, Sorgan began to wake. She heard the families of the village chattering in the early morning, keeping their voices low, and she knew it would only be a matter of time before they emerged and found that the Mandalorian had returned.

They would be eager to talk to him and smother him in questions, but Omera was greedy and wanted time to talk with him alone. If nothing else, they desperately needed at least a few minutes to talk.

“Come with me. I’ll give you space to sit for a minute. We can talk.”

The Mandalorian nodded in agreement and followed her to the barn where he’d stayed before.

She worried herself over clearing a place for him to sit and glanced over her shoulder at him, asking, “Are you hungry?”

“If you can spare something to eat, we’d be grateful.”

He settled the Child into his lap when he sat down on a chair, and Omera lingered by the door, staring at him as if he would disappear if she looked away.

“I won’t go anywhere.”

Omera laughed to herself, embarrassed. “Sorry. I just… didn’t think…”

She cut herself off, shaking her head. She was acting like a teenager in love for the first time and it was completely unbecoming. She was sure the Mandalorian could see straight through her.

“I’ll go get you two something to eat and see Winta off for the morning. I’ll be back soon.”

She lingered a moment more, staring at the man that her heart longed for the most, and then slipped out of the barn, moving swiftly toward the home she shared with Winta.

She felt giddier than she had in a very long time, and it wasn’t for good reason at all. She knew the Mandalorian would leave Sorgan again. It was always inevitable that he would leave.

Biting softly on her lip, Omera entered her home and found that Winta had already risen for the day. She sat at their small table, nibbling on a meal she must’ve put together for herself.

“Morning, Mama.”

“Good morning, Winta. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up.”

“That’s okay.”

Omera lowered a kiss to the top of Winta’s head and took a deep breath of the morning as she sat beside her. “I have something to share with you.”

Winta quirked an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“The Mandalorian has returned.”

Her daughter stopped chewing, her eyes growing wide. “Really?”

Omera nodded. “I’m not sure how long he’s staying, so let’s keep it between us, alright?”

Winta agreed with an excited nod. “Does he have the Child?”

Omera smiled. “Yes. They’re in the barn. I wanted to get them something to eat. Would you help me?”

“Okay.”

Together, Omera and Winta prepared the Mandalorian and his son a small meal, and together, they approached the barn with a quiet understanding between them.

It wasn’t everyday Sorgan got a visitor, and it wasn’t everyday that their village played host, especially to someone like the Mandalorian and his Jedi son.

When they entered the barn, she found the Mandalorian sitting atop the chair, exactly as she’d left him. He looked up from the boy in his arms as she and Winta made their delicate approach.

“I hope it’s alright that I brought Winta.” Omera found herself feeling more nervous than she should. “She’s missed your boy.”

The Child looked at Winta, a familiarity in the way he tilted his head and cooed.

“Looks like he remembers you,” the Mandalorian told Winta.

Winta giggled with delight and waved at the boy, but kept her distance, just as Omera had asked of her.

“Can I feed him?”

At the question, the Mandalorian leaned over, settling the Child on the floor of the barn. “Why don’t you take him outside? He would probably like to play, too.”

Winta’s face lit up. She nodded. “I’ll make sure he’s fed first.”

Omera watched as Winta lifted the small boy and carried him toward the threshold. And then, as if it were always meant to be this way, she was alone with the Mandalorian again.

She turned to him and extended the plate in her hand. “Here. I’ll leave this with you.”

He reached for the plate, but stopped short.

“My name is Din Djarin.” The Mandalorian’s voice cracked when he spoke. “You can call me Din.”

Omera smiled softly, privately delighted over the fact that she wouldn’t ever have to think of him as just a Mandalorian again. He had always been more than that to her, and now she could call him by his true identity: Din.

“Din.” She nodded her head with reverence for what he’d given her. “I’ll go do some things around the village while you eat, and I’ll be back. We can talk, if you want.”

Finally, he took the plate from her. “I would like that.”

Omera’s heart swelled, unable to help itself. This was the man she’d longed for ever since the day he left Sorgan. Now, she would have the chance to speak with him again. To even just be near him again.

“I’ll see you later, Din.”

When Din finished eating, he waited for Omera to return.

He wasn’t eager to insert himself in a place he didn’t belong, so he instead stood at the window that looked out over Winta and the Child. They played happily with a few of the other children in the village. It was truly where he seemed to fit in, amongst other children that saw him as an equal.

Sometimes, Din felt as if he wasn’t an adequate caretaker for the boy. They were always in danger, flying lightspeed through the stars, running or hunting. A place like Sorgan gave him a chance to breathe. To set his thoughts straight.

The Jedi was his prime directive, and he had every intention of finding one. The Child needed someone who could care for him in a way that he needed to be cared for. A Jedi would guide him and help him grow in ways Din would never be able to.

And yet, here he was: on Sorgan chasing after something from his own heart. He didn’t know what he was going to achieve with his return, but if he hadn’t made the effort, if he hadn’t been able to see Omera again… he wouldn’t have the peace to continue on his journey. Not after the way he’d left things.

“I’m sorry I took so long,” Omera’s voice came from the entry of the barn. “Are you decent?”

Din nodded, smiling a little to himself. She was not only beautiful, but caring in a way he rarely saw in his travels from planet to planet.

“Yes. You can come in.”

When Omera entered the barn, he turned to her. She wore her hair down in a pretty cascading wave that settled against her back, and instead of a dress, she wore pants and a long-sleeve top.

Omera looked different than the last time he’d seen her. There was a certain bright hope in her eyes that sparkled all the brighter when she flashed her teeth at him in a smile. Beyond that contagious look in her eyes, she seemed to glow.

She approached him at the window and studied him quietly. “I can tell you’ve been through a lot. Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. It wasn’t Omera’s burden to bear. Everything he’d gone through had simply been a sobering reminder that his life was short.

Death would always tease him. It was an inherent risk of doing what he did. It was part of the Mandalorian creed, a proud part of what he believed, but he’d never been so close before that he could taste it in his mouth and see it when he closed his eyes.

“The Child and I are a clan of two,” Din told her. He looked out the window again, finding the boy toddling toward a ball on the ground. “Everything I do, I do for him.” Returning his focus to Omera, he swallowed at the lump forming in his throat. “But coming here again was for myself.”

Omera’s smile was kind. “You’re allowed to do things for yourself.”

He thought back to the last time he was on Sorgan, to the night before he left.

It had been warm, the way they touched and explored more deeply, but it hadn’t been exactly delicate. They fumbled and laughed. Somehow, the hem of Omera’s dress ripped.

“My dress tore,” she’d whispered with a wrinkled nose. There was a lighthearted twinkle in her eye, unashamed and unconcerned about the predicament she’d encountered.

Din had laughed in surprise, a little too loud for the quiet they were trying to keep. It had been so silent between them, the build up to that moment, with a passion building in touches and stares.

Flashing him a playful smile while she'd laughed beneath her breath, Omera had pressed a finger over the place his lips were beneath his helmet. “Shh.”

Asking him to be quiet only made him laugh more, his chest bouncing with each gentle chuckle.

Omera slid her palms against his chest and he settled his against her hips, holding her with strength and reverence. He didn’t deserve to be shown the kind of hope Omera offered him- still didn't.

“I love your laugh.” Omera had tilted her head affectionately, an equally as affectionate smile upon her lips. “It’s warm. Like the sunset.”

He'd considered it for a second, focused only on the beauty that had straddled his hips, and whispered, “Yours is like honey.”In the end, it had been perfect in a way that it needed to be.

Maybe it had been the encounter that terrified him into leaving, intent on allowing the kid to stay behind, to grow up in peace with Omera as his caretaker.

His heart had never ached the way it did that night, as she lay beside him sleeping. It was like he found something he hadn’t realized he’d been searching for.

“I feel bad for how I left things with you,” Din said. He hoped she could hear his honesty. “I didn’t want to stay, even after… we shared what we did.”

Omera nodded. His words hadn’t surprised her. “You’re destined for something more than Sorgan. I knew that then, too.”

Still, his chest ached. “You’re not upset with me?”

“No.”

She put her palm against his helmet and he felt his breath hitch as if she’d touched his flesh. In her eyes, he saw something change. She had something she was keeping from him. A secret.

When she spoke again, it wasn't to share her secret, however, “I’m glad you came back.”

Din reached for her hand and took it, giving it a tender squeeze. “I wish I could say we can stay here, but I have to do right by the Child.”

“I know,” Omera promised. Her smile was soft and kind. It reminded him of the way sunlight felt on his skin. “We can have this day together again, and when you’re ready, one day you’ll return. Then, we can pick up where we left off.”

He wanted, very badly, to believe that things could end that way, but he’d almost died. The last thing he wanted was for his end to come before he could fulfill the dream Omera held in her heart.

“I… don’t think that will be possible.”

Her brow knitted and she shook her head. She lowered her hand away from his helmet. “Why not?”

“I can’t make a promise I can’t keep.”

“You don’t need to make a promise.”

“You shouldn’t wait for me.” The words came out on a crack, his heart at war with his mind. “You should do what’s right for you. Do what’s right for your daughter.”

Omera was silent. She tilted her head, studying him more, and then her eyes fell shut as she tilted her head down toward the ground. When her gaze returned to him, she shook her head.

“I’ll wait for you.”

Her words hit him in his gut harder than any punch or blaster fire ever had before.

“I have faith that you’ll return one day.” Omera searched his eyes. “I want to wait for you because it will be worth every moment spent apart.” With a soft sigh, she took a half step backwards. “That is, unless you don’t want to come back.”

Din studied Omera. He wasn’t sure why she felt the way she did, but he respected her heart more than he even respected his own.

“Come with us. We can find the Jedi together.”

Omera’s eyes widened in surprise. “What?”

“I’ve seen how you shoot. You can handle yourself. And if it would allow us to… be together, then I think it would be worth it.”

She took a step backward, shaking her head. “Din…”

Omera looked out the window, at the children. He followed her gaze, seeing Winta giggling with the Child, overjoyed to be reunited once more.

“Winta would come with us.”

For just a few seconds, his proposition sat between them and he very nearly thought that he should take it back. She finally looked at him again and in her eyes, he saw that secret once more.

“I want to say yes,” Omera told him. “But it wouldn’t be right to pull Winta away from her home.”

Consistency was the one thing he’d be unable to give them on the Crest, moving from system to system. Maybe one day, he’d be able to slow himself down enough, but as long as he had a mission, he’d never be enough for Omera and Winta.

He felt strangely upset that she didn’t want to join him. It was his path forward, not hers. She belonged on Sorgan. Why did he want her to come with him so much?

There were tears in Omera’s eyes, unshed, and her voice was quiet when she spoke, “You don’t know how badly I wish I could leave.”

Din nodded. It would be for the best, wouldn’t it? Having Omera on the ship was a strange idea to have to begin with. He liked traveling alone.

“It’s alright.”

“No,” Omera murmured, “it isn’t.”

“Come with us, then.” This time, he was more purposeful, stepping toward her with every intention to sweep her into his arms as if he could hold her again the way he had before.

He suddenly found himself wondering what it would feel like to look at her with his own eyes, not through the haze of his visor. The last time he’d had this feeling, he almost allowed her to pull his helmet from his head.

When IG-11 had removed it, he’d felt exposed. Unlike himself. Unnatural, even. But the droid wasn’t a living being. He hadn’t broken his creed.

If he pulled his helmet off now, it would absolutely be broken. Who would he be then?

Maybe the better question was: who was he now? He had practically begged her to join him on his path when it wasn’t her place.

It was selfish. He was incredibly selfish. He opened his mouth to take it all back, to apologize, to hopefully set things right again, but Omera spoke first.

“Maybe it would only be for a little while.” Omera’s head tilted slightly in thought. “We could come back to Sorgan once we found the Jedi. Winta would love the adventure.”

His heart leapt violently against his ribcage. She wanted to join him.

“We can do that.”

Omera took a deep breath, contemplating him, and then gave a succinct nod. “Okay.”

There was no way this was happening. Was it? He’d come to the village on Sorgan with the intention to apologize, and all of a sudden, he would be leaving with Omera at his side, ready to fight with him as they looked for a Jedi.

“You’re sure?”

She laughed, sweet like honey. “Yes, Din. I’m sure.”

Din laughed out of sheer joy, something he rarely allowed himself. Almost by instinct, he took her face between his hands, pulling the crown of his head down to hers in a Keldabe kiss. He shut his eyes as they shared the intimate moment.

In all of his life, he had never allowed himself to be given away so freely to another. Yet, here he stood. His heart had practically flown off of Sorgan on its own because Omera wanted to go on this journey with him.

Omera’s fingers curled around his hands and she sighed contentedly. Something in her sigh echoed the sentiment within his chest. They both longed to be together.

“We’ll leave tomorrow morning,” Din said. “That will give you time to prepare.”

When she pulled away from the close embrace, Omera wore a soft smile, but in her eyes, he again saw her secret hiding. Maybe, he thought, he’d ask about it later. For now, they had plenty to deal with.

It took a few hours to find the Razor Crest, Din’s ship, nestled quietly in the midst of tall towering trees. Winta had spent much of the journey playing with the Child, while Omera had spent her time worrying about whether or not she was making a huge mistake.

She’d thought about telling Din. More than once, she’d had the opportunity to share that she was expecting, and she knew that going on an adventure off of the calm of Sorgan would likely only cause her more trouble.

It would only be a few weeks before she’d really begin to show, and she knew Din would know by then just by looking at her figure.

Her tongue seemed to get stuck within her mouth each time she parted her lips to say something. Maybe it wasn’t time yet. Maybe she would wait for a private moment, away from the children, and tell him then.

“Is this your ship?” Winta asked, in awe of the vessel that stood before them.

“Yes.”

“And we’ll be staying on it for a few weeks?”

Din looked at Omera. She smiled, reaching for the back of Winta’s head to cradle it in her palm, her hair soft to the touch.

“Just a few weeks. We’ll come back to Sorgan once we find the Child’s kind.”

Winta looked down at the baby in her arms. He made a little noise at the attention, pleased.

Together, they filled the ship with the goods the village had offered them for their journey. Once everything was on board, Omera helped Winta and the Child find the cockpit of the craft while Din did a check outside.

“Mama, does the Mandalorian know about...?” Winta asked in a quiet voice.

Omera shook her head. “No. And I would like to keep it that way, until I’m ready to share our news. Alright? Don’t tell him yourself.”

“I won’t,” Winta assured her. She smiled. “It would be nice if we could all be a family.”

Omera’s heart felt full even at the barest mention of the idea that had already rooted itself deep within her. She helped buckle Winta into a seat and bit on her lower lip. “It would be nice.”

The Child made a noise from Winta’s arms, a coo that sounded like a question. He reached out for Omera’s middle and she swore that he waved a hand over it, as if he knew there was life growing inside.

“Alright, everything looks good out there,” Din’s voice interrupted. His arrival brought Omera up onto her feet. She turned, careful within the tight space. “Is everyone ready?”

Omera nodded. “Where are we going first?”

“Tatooine. I’ve learned that there is a Mandalorian there. Hopefully, they can connect me to more of my kind.”

As the Razor Crest lifted out of the marshland of Sorgan, Omera felt as if it was the beginning of a hopeful future. They would be given a home here, as unique and strange as it was, and they would be with the man she loved.

Once the ship entered space, Din turned, looking over his shoulder at the girl sitting over his shoulder. “Would you like to help?”

Winta’s eyes widened with delight. “Me?”

“Come here.”

Winta did as she was told and sat on Din’s lap. He taught her what to do with a gentle voice, one Omera knew he possessed but rarely used. She’d heard him speak this way to the Child just the night prior, as evening fell over Sorgan and he tried to get his son to sleep.

“Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” Din asked when Winta had pushed the lever on the console.

Her daughter laughed. “Thank you for letting me fly.”

“You’re welcome, Winta.”

It was then that Omera realized deep within her heart that it would all be alright.

They were brought together again for a purpose. Whether they traveled together for a few days or a lifetime, she counted herself lucky to have the opportunity to sit on the Mandalorian’s right hand side.

#mandomera #din x omera #the mandalorian #my writing #the edge of hope #oof i'm excited about this #but so nervous !#lol if i don't post this now i will never post it

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sneakybunyip · 3 years

Note

I have a mandalorian prompt if you take them.... 🥺👉👈 I have looked everywhere but I can only find a few...I really want a story where Mand'alor Din finds his birth parents alive. Can you imagine their amazement, their son... who they haven't seen since he was little... now an undefeated warrior and a king of an entire creed, of an entire planet AND has a jedi son to boot!I really want more stories like this

Reunion (1300 words)

Din feels too small in the throne room that’s supposed to be his.

Din feels too big for the throne itself. It’s clearly made for slighter form than his.

He’s sitting on his cape. It’s uncomfortable. He tugs at it and finds its caught on his belt. He leaves it alone, letting it gently tug at his neck while he shifts around trying to find a comfortable position.

Grogu sits in the middle of the carpeted rug leading from the double-doors to Din’s new throne, acting like its a runway for his toy star cruisers. His burbling fill the empty space, joyful confetti that raises to the high ceilings.

Din smiles under his helmet.

He has kept the helmet on since he landed on Mandalore, awkwardly holding out the dark saber that no one would take from him and that he didn’t want.

He kept telling them he didn’t want this life. Not for him. Not for his kid. Instead, they put him in this throne room, told him to take all the time he needed to get used to the idea...and here is where he would sit.

Forever probably, because I will never be used to this idea.

He turns the saber on. It hisses in his hand like a viper denouncing Din’s new title as strongly as Din. He cuts the air, watching the dark light streak with deadly ethereal grace.

“Not bad, I guess,” he murmurs to himself. He prefers a blaster, or his pike, or literally anything else, but...

Grogu’s watching him.

Grogu’s smiling...wide.

“No,” Din says, knowing what that smile means.

Grogu lets the star fighters floating all around him drop suddenly and he shoots a clawed hand out towards Din. The saber rattles in Din’s hand. His grip tightens.

“Hey,” Din growls. “Knock it off, ya lil womp rat!”

“Brrrp fwa!!” Grogu’s ears lower and he squints.

No, you! He says. Or rather that’s what Din can feel in his mind. Din’s thankful Luke was tutoring Grogu here instead of a temple. He’s also thankful he taught Grogu how to communicate, if only to confirm what Din already suspects about the kid: He’s as stubborn as a reek in a rainstorm.

Suddenly Grogu’s hand drops. His head whips towards the door.

“Huh? What is it, kid?”

He feels Grogu broadcast his feelings to Din.

Family. Grogu said. Family back.

Din stands up, walking towards the double-doors, picking up Grogu on the way.

His heart sinks selfishly. “What do you mean? Your family?”

No. Yours.

“No,” Din says, almost too fiercely, too sharply. Grogu’s ears lower. “Sorry, kid, I don’t mean...it’s just...They’re gone. You’re my family.”

Din halts before opening the door, seeing a pair of shadows on the other side of the door. He hears whispering through the amplifier in his helmet.

“If he’s really here, we should wait until he comes out,” a feminine voice whispers.

“If he’s really in there, do you really want to wait another second to see him?” a deeper voice responds.

Din’s hand goes to the one of the door knobs, but his hand is shaking so badly he can’t bring himself to grasp it. He takes a step back.

Grogu lets out a gentle coo, then lifts both his hands as the doors fly open on his command, revealing the visitors on the other side.

Ice hits his veins...

Shock frays his nerves...

His heart which had been shattered for decades start to sweep itself back into a neat pile and begin the arduous task of repairing itself.

“Is it you?”

The question is asked by three people simultaneously: Din Djarin...Lupita Djarin...and Paolo Djarin...

“...Mom?...Dad?...”

Grogu lets out a sharp chuff and Din realizes his helmet is still on, a dark saber still in his hand. He quickly shoves the saber away and rips his helmet off faster than he’s ever wanted to. It falls with a heavy thud on the carpet.

Beneath the helmet is a scruffy-faced man who has lived too many lifetimes in thirty some odd years he’s existed. And yet, at the same time, he looks like a frightened boy who watched his parents die at the hands of battle droids, and now, with large, soulful eyes, wants so very desperately to believe they somehow survived the attack.

Truly it doesn’t sink in until Lupita and Paolo run towards him. They ignore the discomfort of hard beskar, heavily-armed holsters and a thick belt full of grenades and gadgets. They throw their arms around their son and he embraces them back, just as Grogu climbs onto his back so he’s not crushed by the affections.

“How...” his voice breaks.

“Your Jedi friend found us,” Lupita’s hair is more gray than black, but the ringlets tumble over her shoulders just as he always remembered them. Her nose wrinkles in that familiar way as she smiles brightly through shimmering tears. “He said the Force guided him there and so the Force would guide us back to you.”

“Luke did this?”

Paolo runs a hand through Din’s hair and Din realizes immediately his dad is fussing with it as he would every day before school. Din’s hair is always unruly, the helmet had nothing to do with it. And ironically, he inherited this from his father.

Paolo’s hair is as still dark as he remembers, but the bionic replacement eye is new. It’s very close to organic, but the vectors in the iris give it away. There are scars around one side of his face. They’ve long since healed.

“I thought you were both dead.”

“It’s a long story, son,” Paolo says gently, giving up on his son’s hair and wraps a comfortable arm around Lupita, resting a hand on Din’s shoulder. “And we have plenty of time to explain later, but for now...”

“You’re a king!” Lupita says, brightly, looking around the throne room.

“Ah, sort of. I’m a lot of things. I’m a Mandalorian first...no...” Din let his tears run free, not bothering to wipe them away. “I’m your son first. I’m also a Mandalorian, a bounty hunter, and...a father.”

Grogu knows his cue and pops up from behind Din’s shoulder, letting out a loud pfffft sound to present himself.

“Oh...” said Lupita coos and Din can hear her heart melting as she speaks. “Hello, little one...what’s your name?” She is already reaching for him and Grogu doesn’t hesitate to leap into her arms, eating up the attention shamelessly.

“Grogu,” Din says, proudly. “I’ve adopted him.”

“We’ve missed so much,” Paolo says, also not bothering to wipe the endless stream of tears away. “But no more. We are here now. And here we’ll stay, though...are we interrupting something?” Paolo sees the festive banners around the room and surely they walked by all the festitivies outside welcoming the Mand’alor who doesn’t want to leave his throne room.

“No, you have excellent timing,” Din says. If there was any chance he was going to join the day-long festivities for his reign before, they were dashed now that his parents were here. “We all have long stories to tell. Don’t worry about the Mand’alor situation, I’ll-”

“The what?” The Djarins asked in unison.

Family! Grogu interrupts, wiggling out of Lupita’s arms Family Play! The Negotiator! The Falcon! The Hound’s Tooth! The Razor Crest!

Grogu toddles over to his pile of toy ships and plops down, waiting expectantly.

“Grogu wants to know if you two would like to play what he calls ‘star wars’ with him.”

Paolo purses his lips, and it looks as if he may break down into sobs, which, Din knows, is a very valid reaction at how darling Grogu can be during emotional times.

Lupita rubs Paolo’s back, holding herself enough together to say. “We would love to. May I be the Negotiator?”

Paolo sniffles and follows Din and Lupita. “I declare the Falcon.”

DIn looks back at Grogu who is already floating the Razor Crest possessively.

“Stuck with the Hound’s Tooth again, huh kiddo?” Din asks.

Grogu lets out a proud grrrruuuuuu!

-----

@permanently-exhausted-witcher thank you so much for this writing prompt! I wasn’t actually taking prompts at the time, but this prompt broke my heart in the best ways so I hope you enjoy!

#The Mandalorian #Grogu #Din Djarin #Din's Parents #bunyipwrites

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yetanotherhoeforpedro · 3 years

Text

Sinfully Armored

Chapter 3 - What happens on Kashyyyk…

Chapter 2

A dull bump ended your slumber abruptly. You scrambled out of your cot and reached for your lightsaber out of reflex, though it was highly questionable as to how your weapon could help your ship. Another impact hit you and almost threw you to the ground, but you quickly steadied yourself and headed for the cockpit.

“Shit,” you exclaimed as you stared out of the cockpit and looked upon an asteroid field. R2 was already doing his best, steering you clear of the worst. Not daring to waste another second, you climbed into the pilot’s seat. The Force is with you, it will guide you, you tried to reassure yourself. Another hit. You cussed. While you were a decent pilot, you never had to maneuver through an asteroid field as tight as this one. You took a deep breath. “Let’s do this, R2,” you said with the bravado you had left and began to steer the ship deeper into the floating rocks.

The door to the cockpit slid open and while you didn’t dare to avert your attention from your task, you didn’t have to turn around to know it was the Mandalorian. “A bit more to the right,” a modulated voice commanded you. “I know what I am doing,” you gritted through your teeth, just as you felt a small impact from the left. For some reason, he didn’t rub it in, instead, he simply sat down into the copilot’s seat and looked ahead. “Down,” he warned you and this time, you listened to him, barely avoiding another hit.

It went on like that for the next minutes until you were clear again. You were about to say something to him, perhaps words of praise, but your mysterious passenger simply got up and left. You shrugged and decided to get a little more rest as it was still quite early and you were a Jedi, not a droid.

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When you awoke the next time, it was to a deep voice. “We’re there, Jedi,” it said and your eyes fluttered open. “Morning, Chatterbox,” you yawned, not thinking too much about your words. “Huh, Chatterbox. I like that nickname. It fits you perfectly,” you added and gave him a sleepy smile. He looked down at you, apparently not as pleased by the nickname. “Just give me a second,” you sighed and he left you alone, thank the Maker. You rose slowly, went to the fresher and gathered some supplies in your backpack afterwards. Apparently, you would have to eat breakfast on the go.

He was already waiting at the hangar with Grogu strapped to his chest in a pouch and R2 next to him. Why did he always have to look like a statue? He seriously needed to get this stick out of his butt. Without acknowledging him any further, you headed for the droid. “Morning, Artoo. What have you got for us?” R2 beeped and produced a map of the planet’s surface, you were on Kashyyyk. The map showed the path to a hut high up in the characteristic trees of the planet. Afterwards, he displayed the youngling and her name. A little Wookie, barely 20, which was young by the standard of the species. R2-D2 closed the image again.

“Thanks, Artoo.” You patted his head and turned to leave. Artoo beeped offendedly. “Oh, come on. You know we need you to stay on the ship. I’ll contact you if things go awry,” you promised and he ceased his protests.

Stepping out of your ship’s hangar, you took a moment to appreciate the stunning setting. Kashyyyk was one of the most idyllic planets in the galaxy and as you had visited it on a diplomatic mission with Luke and Chewie once, you came to fall in love with its enormous Wroshyr trees, tropical beaches and scenic mountains. You did have an unpleasant encounter with some Wyyyschokk spiders on that trip, but shit happens.

You focused back on reality and noticed the Mandalorian was staring at you. Avoiding his eyes, you opened the map and took a few steps towards the edge of the clearing your ship landed on. You turned around to your strange companion. “Are you coming or what?” Instead of replying, he just followed you, Grogu safely confided in his makeshift bag. The view was quite precious, you had to admit.

You spent the next few hours hiking through the forest mostly in silence, the only conversation prompts originating from you. You had no idea why you were still trying with him. At least Grogu seemed animated, marveling at the rich greens of the forest and trying to snatch some bugs from the trees around him.

At one point, you decided to sit down for a moment. The Mandalorian set Grogu free and he immediately waddled to one of those toxic Wyyyschokk spiders you were mildly traumatized by. You reached out with the Force to move it out of his grasp. Grogu shot you an offended look and tried to implement his own Force to pull it closer to him. “Grogu, no!” You sighed in exasperation. He didn’t comply. The Mandalorian was silently watching your exchange, as per usual. Grogu picked the spider up while staring at you innocently. “Put it away.” He halted his movement. “Good. Now let it go,” you said firmly. He hesitated. “It’s toxic, Grogu.”

The Mandalorian sprung to his feet and whipped his head towards you. “What? You let him near a toxic spider?!” You rolled your eyes. “Relax, Chatterbox.” But he was having none of that. Before Grogu could come to a decision, a blaster shot went off and the dead spider fell from his hands. “You idiot!” you yelled at him. “Now all of Kashyyyk knows we’re here!” He shrugged and settled back down. “Our rest is over,” you proclaimed, picked the little one up and put him into your backpack carefully before and slinging it over your shoulders. Not waiting for your companion – you knew he would follow if you carried the child, you continued making your way through the forest.

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

The sun was at its highest as you finally arrived at the beach. A couple of small Wookies who had been playing in the water stopped dead as they spotted you. You raised your arms and carefully took a step towards them. In the little words you knew of their language, you explained to them that you had come in peace. They seemed to relax slightly, though they still shot wary glances at the warrior behind you.

You asked them whether another stranger had come to their village recently and they exchanged looks that told you they had no idea what you were saying, so you inquired where their guardians were instead. They pointed to a hut in the trees and you quickly thanked them before turning back to your companion.

“We have to get to the hut up there.” You gave a sharp nod up to the tree, squinting against the blinding sun. The Mandalorian simply nodded and pulled you to his chest without an explanation. You had to crook your neck to look at him and before you could question his behavior, he embraced you even tighter and took off. Suddenly in the air, you held on to him just as closely, too shocked to react in any other way. Before you knew it, you felt the ground underneath your feet again. For a moment, neither one of you moved, both of you clinging to the other like your lives depended on it. Well, yours did a moment ago.

Once you regained your wits, you quickly tried to move out of his grip and he loosened it slightly. You broke free, took a step back and shot him a furious glare. “Don’t ever do that again,” you spat while angrily jabbing your index finger into his beskared chest. He didn’t respond, only moved his visor down to you in a deliberate movement. You held his stare, hoping he saw the boiling rage in your eyes.

The tension was snapped by a growl behind you. You spun around, facing a gigantic Wookie with slightly greying hair. “I am sorry,” you said in their language, quickly recovering from the shock. “I did not mean to disturb you. I am a Jedi.” You pointed to your lightsaber. “One of your children is in danger,” you added, trying to give at least a rough explanation for your sudden appearance. At least you hoped that’s what you said, your use of their language was pretty rusty. The Wookie hesitated to respond, their eyes wandering from the silent warrior to you and back. “He is no danger to you,” you tried to calm the Wookie. At last, they signaled you to follow them inside and you gladly obeyed. However, they kept the Mandalorian from entering and you gave him a half-hearted apologetic shrug.

Once inside, the Wookie guided you to a high table where a few other grown ones were already seated. You swiftly climbed up to the bench on the opposite side and took a seat, pulling your backpack with Grogu onto your lap. The Wookie briefly repeated what you told them and the others looked at you expectantly. In broken language, you tried to explain to them that a sort of Imperial bounty hunter – at that point you are glad the Mandalorian wasn’t allowed to enter because you had to explain that word rather embarrassingly in wild gestures – was trying to steal one of their children. You produced the image of the young one from your device and for once wished Threepio were with you as an incomprehensible discussion broke out between the Wookies.

After a while, one of them turned back to you. “What do you want here?” he asked you. “Are you here to steal her away as well?” This question threw you off guard a little. “Wha- no. I am here to protect her from the Empire,” you replied tensely. The Wookies exchanged wary glances and you couldn’t really blame them.

“We will not harm your child; we will only stay until the threat from the Empire is eliminated. The young one can decide whether she wants to become a Jedi later on,” a modulated voice interfered in perfect Shyriiwook. You turn your head to see the Mandalorian entering the hut. “So to get you to talk to me, I need to speak Wookie?” you teased him, but he ignored you, staring straight at the assembled Wookies. “What’s it to you, bounty hunter?” another Wookie asked him. While you sucked at speaking their language, you had come to understand it pretty well from all the time spent with Chewie, Han, Luke and Leia. “I am here because of my child.” He pointed to Grogu and the Wookies seemed to be even more confused. They began to chatter loudly once more.

“You can stay here, but we are watching you”, the first Wookie finally told you. “If there is truly an Imperial spy trying to steal our child, we will not be foolish and turn down your help. I will lead you to your hut.” You got up and bowed slightly. “Thank you. You will not regret it.”

Your hut was strategically placed with a view of the child’s hut. You wandered around the main room, taking in the exquisitely carved wood furniture and running your hand over it to fully appreciate the skilled carvings. “How do you know their language so well?” you queried with your back turned to the Mandalorian. He remained silent for so long that it surprised you when he did reply. “I - I have come around in the galaxy and if I learned one thing, it’s the more languages you know, the higher your chances of survival are.” At that, you faced him and crooked an eyebrow. “Didn’t assume you had to worry about surviving too much, what with the shiny armor and everything.” – “You’d be surprised,” was all he said in response.

“Well…thank you for saving my ass back there,” you attempted to lighten the mood. “I didn’t do it for you,” he retorted immediately. You scoffed. “Why is it that every time I try to show you a little kindness or gratitude, you push me away? Are you afraid that you’ll actually come to like me or what?” you confronted him, not willing to let it go this time. “I…I’ll look for some…some food for Grogu,” he said and went around you to pick the little one up from the bed you had placed him on earlier. “What are you running from?” you mumbled softly as he passed you again to leave the hut. He halted in his tracks and turned his head to you for a moment, as if he was contemplating something. Instead, he jerked his head back to the front and took off with Grogu in his arms.

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

It was late when he returned, the sun was almost setting. He was a fool. A fool who was not used to spending this much time with another human being, much less one who managed to get under his armor like you did. He didn’t know what it was about you that had this effect on him, but he had been trying to avoid you at all cost ever since he first met you. He knew then you’d be trouble for him, crouching in front of him with your laser sword drawn out, ready to attack. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been turned on by it. And that was exactly why he had to keep his distance.

Still, the sight of the empty hut sent a pang of disappointment through him, but what did he expect? That you’d be waiting for him all day, just sitting on your ass? It was a blessing really, that you were not here right now. The Maker knows what he would have said to you otherwise. Would he have apologized? Admitted that you were driving him crazy? Pushed you away again? He let out a heavy sigh and set Grogu down on the bed again. He was in some deep shit and for the first time in his life, he had no idea how to get out of it.

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

“Stop that!” you ordered, trying to fill your voice with the little authority you had left, but it came out amused above all. The Wookie youngling kept reaching out for your lightsaber with the Force, but you held it back. You sighed while suppressing your smile. How did you end up with two younglings to train when you weren’t even interested in instructing one?

“She likes you,” the mother of the force-sensitive child said and you looked up at her in wonder. “You think so? Right now, it seems like she’s trying to get on my nerves.” You gave her a small grin and she responded with a genuine smile.

Your wholesome exchange was interrupted by the sudden entrance of another Wookie. “Dinner is ready,” he said while eyeing you with suspicion. Understandably, most of the Wookies had not been too thrilled by your arrival. “Alright,” the female Wookie responded and turned to you: “Would you like to join us?” – “I don’t want to intrude,” you replied with a shrug. “You are not intruding. Come along.” Her tone left no room for discussion, so you followed her over the wooden planks connecting the trees after she picked up her child.

Dinner was a festive occasion, there was a variety of mouth-watering food spread out across a huge table in the main treehouse. As you took in the feast, you noticed how hungry you truly were. You let the Wookies go to the buffet first so you wouldn’t eat up their food and picked out a few delicious snacks afterwards. You took a seat next to the mother of the youngling and she tried to include you in the conversation as well as she could. You got to know the Wookies a little better and they seemed to warm to you a bit more. During the discussion, you managed to form a battle plan in case of an attack with them.

As dinner went on, you couldn’t help but wonder where your companion was. Had he even returned yet? Was he in danger? Was Grogu alright? For some reason, you couldn’t stop yourself from caring about this strange man who had been nothing but rude to you so far. Your focus kept slipping from the conversation until you excused yourself as politely as you could and went back to your hut.

The sight that greeted you was not what you expected. The Mandalorian lay, still fully armored, in the bed with Grogu next to him. He seemed to be asleep. A wave of pity overcame you. What a life he must lead, always separated from the rest of the world by a thick layer of beskar. Never allowing himself to be vulnerable in any way. He didn’t even seem to care about his own discomfort, sleeping in an awkward angle so that Grogu could rest as comfortably as possible. He probably hadn’t even eaten himself all day and had only fed the little one.

Before you knew what you were doing, you went back to the main hut. There were still plenty of leftovers on the table, so you picked up as many different delicacies as you could carry in your arms and went back to the sleeping warrior. You carefully placed the edible goods on a side table and went outside to take the first watch.

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

Mando jolted up when he awoke. Shit, he hadn’t meant to fall asleep, how long had he been out? He stretched a bit, as much as his beskar armor allowed, and got up, trying not to disturb the child. There was a bunch of food on the side table, he noticed with a grumbling stomach. He could think of only one person who could have put it there and he felt an overwhelming wave of affection at the sweet gesture. How had you even known that he hadn’t eaten yet?

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

The huts had been silent for the majority of the night, so the soft crunching sound alerted you immediately. You listened more intently and realized that it originated from inside of your hut. As you figured out what the sound must be, a soft smile formed on your lips. He was really feasting in there, your suspicions about his eating habits must have been correct. You continued your vigilance, satisfied that he had accepted your gesture.

After a while, you heard him approach. For a moment, neither of you said anything. To your surprise, it was him who broke the silence this time. “I…thank you.” You didn’t quite know how to respond to his sudden kindness, so you simply nodded, even though your back was turned to him. “How – how long have you been out here?” he continued. You looked up at the stars. “Probably a few hours.” – “I’m sorry I fell asleep, I – you should have woken me up so you could get some rest as well.” He took a step closer to you and you could sense the coldness his beskar radiated, sending shivers through you.

“Why do you wear that helmet all the time?” The question was out before you could stop it, his proximity completely disheveling your thoughts. You felt him still behind you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t –,“ you began, but he interrupted you. “It’s the Way of the Mandalore,” he disclosed and you slowly turned around to face him. “But it seems awfully restricting,” you blurted out, once again not considering your words. He met your glance and cocked his head to the side. “It is not a restriction; it is an honor to live by our codex.” His words were not filled with much conviction and sounded recited above all.

“How did you become a Mandalorian?” you pressed on; curiosity having gotten the better of you. “You sure ask a lot of questions today,” he responded coldly. “I would have asked earlier, but I knew you wouldn’t have answered any of them,” you admitted bluntly and earned a small chuckle from him. “I suppose that’s true,” he answered thoughtfully after a while and his helmet turned away from you. You raised an eyebrow at his honest reply. “Why are you talking to me now?” you inquired, not caring anymore that you were clearly overstepping the line.

“I’m not sure,” he breathed out quietly after a moment of silence. “Well, whatever reason, I’m…glad you are.” His gaze turned back down to you and you showed him a friendly smile. His visor shifted into the distance again abruptly and you silently cursed yourself. Had you been too offensive? You shouldn’t have made yourself that vulnerable.

“Our guests have arrived, Jedi,” he noted, sounding mildly displeased and as you followed his glance, your eyes widened. All of your banal previous thoughts vanished as you took in the four Imperial ships that were descending to the surface of Kashyyyk. “We have to get to – ,“ you inducted, but he was one step ahead of you. Grabbing you by the waist, the Mandalorian took off into the air and landed swiftly in front of the small Wookie’s home. “I told you to stop doing that,” you snapped at him, but without much force as you could still feel his firm grip on your waist. As he loosened it, you regained your focus and remembered your mission. You quickly turned your back to him and knocked on the wooden door.

The Wookie mother answered and her sleepy eyes snapped open widely as she took the both of you in. “They’re here,” you informed her gravely and she let out a roar to alert the rest of the villagers. They quickly rose and took their positions, some as snipers high up in the treetops and some ready to defend the huts in direct combat. All of them were hidden from plain sight and you could only spot them because of your training – and because you knew they were there.

In the meantime, the Imperial ships had landed on the beach. You stared at them intently, hoping to make anything out from the distance. The hangars of the ships opened in unison and you heard the Mandalorian take in a sharp breath. Out of each ship stepped rows upon rows of droids in mechanical movements. There were only two people among them, one of them a man from the meeting you witnessed earlier and the other a (insert species). You were surprised at the open display of their forces; you had thought this would rather be an incognito mission than an open battle. Did they know you were ready to fight? Were they just not taking chances? Either way, this was going to be a lot harder than you anticipated.

Someone called your name and ripped you out of your spiraling thoughts. You were even more amazed to realize that it had been your companion. He had never addressed you with your real name before. “We have to get to Grogu,” he breathed out, the worry audible in his voice. “Shit, you’re right,” you responded in horror. He was about to fly over again, but you held him back. “Wait. You can’t move, they’ll notice you and know we have something to hide. It has to be me,” you reasoned. He seemed reluctant. “Do you trust me?” you asked him, looking where you believed his eyes to be. When he didn’t react, you scoffed. “Seriously, Mando? Good to know.” Without another word, you left for Grogu. What was the deal with the Mandalorian? Why was he being kind to you one moment and cold as ice in the next?

You swiftly moved across the trees, careful to not make any noise. As you looked down, you saw the droids beginning to scramble up the barks of the trees to reach the huts. You whistled, almost having forgotten about the sign you were supposed to give and blastershots went off quickly.

Very few droids fell, the rest of them continued to ascend, seemingly not even taking notice of the attack. They were more resilient than you thought. You needed to get to your apprentice quickly, so you began to move with less caution.

You were only two huts away from Grogu when the world went white with an ear-splitting bang. The next thing you felt was your back hitting the bark of a tree and then the ground, your ears still ringing from the detonation. “Fuck!” you exclaimed, trying to get up and failing miserably. Your entire body was aching. This was not the time to be hurting, you needed to fight. You took a few deep breaths and slowly rose, testing your limbs. There didn’t seem to be any serious fractures, much to your relief.

You needed to get to Grogu immediately. Looking up at the tree, you saw a droid already halfway up. Fuck. You really had to hurry. As you took a step towards the tree, you doubled over in agony, spitting a patch of blood onto the ground. Okay, maybe you did have a few broken ribs. You straightened yourself and took another step, wincing at the stabbing pain in your side but moving forward nonetheless. If you could only get to that tree…

You yelled out in pain and surprise as your muscles quivered with electricity and you went down again. You quickly scrambled around and looked at your attacker. It was one of the droids, wielding an electrostaff. You clutched your lightsaber just in time to deflect the next blow. You rolled aside as the droid took another swing, ignoring your aching side and scrambling to your feet.

The droid didn’t hesitate to strike again, but this time, you were prepared. Even in your injured state, it was no match for you. After circling it for a few moments in a defensive crouch, you picked out a weak spot and drove your blade home, separating it in the middle. Not taking any chances, you hacked its remains apart.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief and grimaced in pain as your lungs expanded against your fractured ribcage. Grogu, you thought in horror and spun to face the tree again. The droid that had climbed it before was nowhere to be seen, which was not a good sign at all. You considered the height you would have to pass to get to the hut. It was too far for a Force jump; you really would have to climb. Not wasting another precious moment, you dug your fingers into the bark and pulled yourself up.

You were only halfway up when your strength faltered and you slid down the entirety of the bark you had only just climbed. You yelled out in frustration. The battle in the trees was slowly subsiding, you noticed and you took your last chance. With all the muscle power you had left in your legs, you bolted for the ships on the beach while cutting down a few simpler droids in your path.

As you got closer, you saw that the first ship was already taking off. Had they been defeated or did they get what they came for? You enhanced your speed as much as possible, but it was all in vain. You arrived at the beach soon enough to see the Imperial scum entering his ship with Grogu, but too late to stop his escape. All you could do was watch as he took off into the sky as well.

You sunk down onto your knees, not having it in you to react in any way or form. You had failed everyone. Luke, who provided you with a home and a purpose even after you had given up on yourself; Grogu, who trusted you to be a good Jedi Master to him; Yoda, who had saved you from certain doom all those years ago; your parents, who had given their lives for yours and Mando, who had trusted you with his child. Possibly you had even failed the Wookies in your quest to protect the youngling. You were absolutely worthless. A complete waste of life and resources. What was being one of the most powerful warriors in the galaxy worth if you couldn’t even protect those dear to you? You slumped down into the sand, embracing the stabbing pain in your rib as it made contact with the uneven, hard ground. It wasn’t enough to suppress the guilt and the self-hatred you felt though. Not even close.

In the back of your mind, you heard the other ships departing, but you were beyond the physical realm now. You couldn’t help getting sucked into the cruel depths of your mind, almost welcoming the voices that screamed at you in fury and reminded you of everything that was wrong with you.

Somehow, you felt your physical form vibrating, but it took you a few moments to return to it and notice the Mandalorian that was violently shaking your shoulders. You blinked up at him in confusion. “Where is he?” he demanded, over and over again. “Gone,” you responded, though your voice seemed to come from afar. “How could you let them take him? I trusted you to protect him!” His voice was so full of hate that your mind focused back on him. You didn’t answer this time, only stared at him intently and let him interpret it any way he would. It was good that he despised you now, you deserved nothing less.

Whatever he saw in your eyes, he didn’t say anything else. He simply let his grip on your shoulders go, resulting in you crashing back into your damaged ribs. Your lips drew blood from how hard you had to bite down to suppress your wince of pain. The last thing you wanted right now was for him to pity you and regret his harsh words.

As you dropped back down and the adrenaline from the fight began to leave your bloodstream, the pain worsened and you felt weariness overcome you. Your desperate attempts to stay conscious were completely futile and you realized you were slowly slipping away from reality. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled as everything went black.

Chapter 4

Masterlist

#din dijarin x reader #dindjarjn #the mandalorian #the mandalorian/reader #star wars #fanfic #enemies to lovers

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mightywolves23 · 3 years

Text

Lost But Homebound Chapter Three - Felucia

Chapter Three to Lost But Homebound. Where Grogu tries to find his way home. If you are ever in need, know that there is always people around you who care and love you.

Word Count: 1,381

Characters: Grogu, Din Djarin, Original Characters

Summary:

Grogu is a survivor and he wouldn't die again in this destruction. He survived twenty years of the Empire he wouldn't just die in Ben Solo's temper tantrum. But... where would he go? He remembered one home that didn't end this way. With fire and the death of his family and friends. Grogu knew he was cursed but that didn't stop him from wanting a home of his own. His buir would take care of him. Buir was strong and survived a Kryat Dragon! He could handle a Darksider if one came after them. Grogu set out to find his buir and home.

***

STORY

Grogu wished he remembered his buir’s warnings about Felucia. It would have helped to avoid the situation he now found himself in. The memory came too late and now he remembered exactly why his buir went out of his way to not land on Felucia. It has everything to do with pirates.

ElleDee and he had made it to their destination with only a few raised eyes and curious stares. The only time Grogu had wandered outside their room, a well-meaning stranger tried to find Grogu’s guardian. After that, Grogu stayed back and let ElleDee fetch him his meals provided and anything else he needed.

Grogu now understood why ElleDee had been fired from their job as a mind healer. ElleDee was relentless and determined about taking care of Grogu. The little droid was almost aggressive in its tactics. When Grogu didn’t want to eat, ElleDee would almost force the food down his throat with a stern reminder to take care of himself.

Grogu liked the droid. Something about it was very familiar. A word that he almost remembered floated around his brain at some of the interactions with the droid. It was one of Buir’s words.

They went out of the cargo ship onto the dusty surface of Felucia. Grogu wandered aimlessly for a few hours. He must have searched the whole town before ElleDee forced him to stop.

Grogu rested in the shade of a massive plant on the edge of town.

“Designation: Grogu. Purpose?” ElleDee beeped and prodded him with its attachment.

“Buir.” Grogu choked out. “Find Buir.”

“LD-3 Calculating. Match not found. Request more information.” ElleDee rolled a few feet around him in a circle.

“Dad.” Grogu whimpered. He wanted to cry. He was too small and too young and too hot and too thirsty and hungry and everything was too much. He wanted his buir.

“LD-3: Calculating. Renamed Designation Grogu to Designation: Child Grogu. New Secondary Purpose: Find BuirDad. Searching…” ElleDee kept going around in a circle. A small satellite dish sprung up from ElleDee’s head and spun around. “No match found. BuirDad Location: Not Here. Designation: Child Grogu Last Known Location?”

Grogu didn’t want to speak anymore. He stood up. He needed food and water. Grogu started down the path towards the town. Maybe someone would be kind enough to give him some food and water.

***

Grogu walked for what felt like ages. He finally came across a water flask and a piece of bread on a plate. Grogu cautiously approached it. No one was around and it was just sitting on the ground next to a building.

Grogu reached for the flask. His thirst was building in his throat. He would even drink scummy water he was so thirsty.

“Oi! That’s mine!” A weequay snatched up the plate and flask. “What have we hear? Go away, runt!”

Grogu growled. He was hungry and thirsty and tired and was thoroughly done with everything. He pulled out his lightsaber and switched it on. The green blade shot up from the hilt.

The weequay stumbled back and tripped over his feet. “Captain! I think you should see this!”

Another younger weequay dressed in a blood-red scarf and a thick black jacket stepped out of the doorway. He wore goggles on his head. His eyes widened when he saw Grogu.

“Put that away little Jedi. Come in here and stop threatening ol’ Bart, now. We have better refreshments inside.” The Captain waved his hand towards the doorway.

“Designation: Child Grogu warning! Dangerous.”

Grogu ignored ElleDee’s complaints. He could smell meat cooking inside and his hunger overruled his instincts. He hadn’t had meat since Yavin 4 and Grogu was partial to meat. Grogu put away his lightsaber and followed the weequays inside. ElleDee was cursing up a storm as the droid followed him.

***

“Designation: Child Grogu. LD-3: Right Warning. Pirates = Dangerous.” ElleDee was fitted with a restraining bolt and set in a cage next to Grogu.

Grogu was sitting in a small cage with his lightsaber taken from him. He still had his necklace. His holo picture was being examined by the Pirate Captain.

“What’s this, Little Jedi?” The Captain pressed the button and Grogu’s picture fully formed. He nearly dropped it.

Grogu scowled. When he got out of here he was going to…

“Captain! Your father is on the comlink.” Ol’ Bart came up to them and placed a com in the Captain’s hand.

“Papa Ohnaka! To what do I owe this call?” The Captain bowed at the waist dramatically.

“Junior! I hear you have captured an impressive hostage.” An older weequay wearing a flight helmet and a flashy red coat appeared on the device.

“Yes, Papa. It is a little Jedi. I was thinking of contacting the New Republic for surely it is one of theirs.” The Captain trailed off at whatever his Papa’s look was.

“Junior, let me see this little Jedi.” Papa Ohnaka’s voice lost all its happiness.

The Captain moved the comlink so Grogu was in view. “We caught him trying to steal Ol’ Bart’s…”

“Junior. That is not just a little Jedi. That is a child and I thought we agreed on not harming children. Get him out of there at once! We do not wish for the Mand’alor to catch wind of this. We owe him a life debt from both of us. I know you have not forgotten.” Papa Ohnaka sounded worried and exasperated.

The Captain quickly fumbled the keys to let Grogu out. Soon, Grogu’s cuffs were gone and ElleDee’s restraining bolt was broken off. “Ah, sorry, Little Jedi. The mistake was on me. Can I get you some food?”

Grogu was led to a table and a thick slice of meat was placed in front of him. Grogu’s mouth went wet and he grabbed the meat and ripped a chunk off with his teeth. It was the best thing Grogu had eaten in a while and it was gone in three bites. Grogu’s ears dropped when he saw there was no more.

Another piece was put on his plate and was gone in four bites. One last piece was given to him and Grogu managed to eat it in five bites, his chewing much neater.

A cup of water was placed by his plate and Grogu drank three glasses full. When Grogu had his fill, he then looked up at the Captain.

“It seems I owe you a debt, Little Jedi, in apology for mistreating you. I did not know you were a child. Is there anything I can do for you? Maybe find your parents?” The Captain folded his hands in front of him. “Ah. Here you are.” The Captain pushed his lightsaber and holo picture back at him.

ElleDee was mysteriously quiet and when Grogu looked over, he saw the little droid at a charging station.

Grogu sighed. Looks like he would have to talk. “Dad. Lava planet. Ship?” Four words were all he could manage.

The Captain nodded. “I can take you halfway. I do not dare get close to Nar Shaddaa. Bad business there, Little Jedi. You are in luck. We are leaving in an hour for a supply trip. Just enough time for your little droid friend to be fully powered.”

Grogu yawned. He felt sleepy after his stomach being filled. Grogu was lifted into the air and the spicy scent of Captain Junior Ohnaka filled his nose. Grogu was carried across the room and laid down in a box filled with more clothes smelling of the same scent.

“You are a really little Jedi aren’t you? Never fear, Hondo Ohnaka the Second’s crew will not harm you. Get some shut-eye, eh, little Jedi. I will wake you when we are ready for boarding.” A hand clumsily patted his back before withdrawing.

Grogu’s eyes slipped closed, ready for the promise of being halfway to his buir.

****

One hour later, Grogu was woken up. He and ElleDee were on a ship filled with pirates heading for Kashyyyk. Grogu hoped they were headed in the right direction. He didn’t remember it being this long from when he left his buir to Master Luke’s school. Then again, it was twenty years ago that he was taken there and he was smaller back then.

Kashyyyk here he comes.

#fanfic #stories #star wars #post the mandalorian #aftermath of ben solo's turn to the dark side #luke's school #mandalorian and grogu #grogu point of view #grogu #lost but homebound #angst #trauma #healing

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curiosi-tea-writes · 3 years

Text

Loved Ones Visit (One Survivor pt. 5)

Pairing: Din Djarin / Cobb Vanth

Setting: Survivor AU / Modern AU

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4)

Summary: Cobb is given a chance to rewrite his history in the game. But playing a second season without Din proves to be much more difficult both physically and emotionally. A certain reward challenge proves to both hurt and help Cobb in its own way.

Content Warning: Blood / Injured!Cobb

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

Cobb knew playing the game a second time after three years was going to be difficult. He knew having Din with him last time was a huge encouragement. But this time he was alone. Well, he had nineteen other players, but he felt incredibly alone.

He could imagine Din and Grogu sitting on the sofa every evening. He could almost hear Din’s laughter at Grogu’s attempts to list dinosaur facts he had learned from Cobb. But he knew he was alone. Worse than that, he was alone with almost everything reminding him of Din and their original season.

When Cobb got the offer to come back for an all-star season, he told the crew he had to discuss it with his family first. His family. It still surprised him to no end that that’s what they were.

Cobb moved across two states only a year after they had returned home from the game. A year of so many miles keeping them apart when they both knew all they wanted was to be together. Din’s apartment was bigger and his job was more secure than Cobb’s so it made more sense for Cobb to move. They lived comfortably, Cobb’s photography studio still wasn’t open, but he was making progress. He had never been happier than being there with Din and his son. Their son. It had taken them all a while, but Grogu was as much Cobb’s kid as he was Din’s. They were a happy little family.

Din, of course, had supported him. “Do you want to do it?” he had asked that evening as Cobb cooked.

Cobb had been weighing the options all day. He sighed heavily and nodded. “I think I do. I hate the idea of being away from here, from you two, but I would really like a second chance at this.”

“Then you need to do it.” There was no further debate on the matter.

That day that Cobb said goodbye to his boyfriend and their son was one of the worst of Cobb’s life. He couldn’t get the image of Grogu’s worried eyes out of his mind.

“What if you get hurt again?” Grogu had mumbled out as Cobb knelt to give him a hug.

“I’m gonna try real’ hard not to,” Cobb promised.

Grogu looked up at him with tears in his eyes. “Can’t you just promise that you won’t?”

Cobb took a shaky breath and looked up at Din for some sort of support, only to be met with the same look of pain and anxiety that Grogu had.

Din placed his hand on Grogu’s shoulder and took a shaky breath of his own. “He’ll be fine.”

‘Don’t tell him that,’ Cobb thought as he narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend. ‘You don’t know that for sure.’

Most nights he laid out on the beach, staring up at the stars. It had taken him some time, but he finally loved the stars as much as Din did. Although, not for the same reason. Din loved the stars for the vastness and uncertainty of it all. The fact that there could be, and probably were, millions of life forms out there. He loved the stories behind the constellations and how they came about. Cobb loved all these things as well, but he also loved the comfort he now found in the stars. Before Din, they were just stars. Now, he knew, given what time of night it was and what time of year, where the constellations would be. His eyes could fall on his constellation of choice within seconds of laying down on the sand. They reminded him of late nights where Din explained to him everything he knew and Cobb would listen intently. He felt slightly less alone because he had the stars.

Although he didn’t have Din this time around, he wasn’t as alone as he often felt. Although they had been on different tribes despite all switch-ups and hadn’t gotten to meet up until the merge, Fennec had been brought back for the season as well. Cobb and Din had kept in touch with a few players from their season - Fennec, Boba, and Migs. He was happy knowing that he had a genuine friend on the island. Sometimes she’d sit with him on the beach, just to silently keep him company. Cobb always appreciated that. It didn’t last very long, however. After winning three individual immunities, she was seen as a threat and promptly voted out by everyone but Cobb and his one other ally.

And then Cobb was back to feeling completely alone. Only the stars were his true allies at that point.

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

“Come on in, guys!” Jeff called as the ten merged members walked single file onto the beach and took a spot on the yellow mat. Jeff had that look in his eye that told any fan of the show something big was about to happen. “Before I tell you the challenge, how about I tell you what you’re playing for.” The Survivors nodded. “I’m sure you’re all hungry and missing home. So for today’s challenge, you’ll get a little taste of it. Burgers, fries, and soda on a boat. Ice cream for dessert. You’ll eat, you can shower, have a change of clothes, spend the night, return to camp in the morning.” The Survivors groaned, knowing this was a reward everybody wanted desperately. “One more catch.”

“Of course,” Cobb sighed and the player sitting next to him laughed.

Jeff gave Cobb a slight glare before smiling. “Burgers and fries are a nice taste of home. But what would be better than a loved one to share it with?”

Everyone cheered and gasped as Jeff began going down the list of Survivors. With each person called, Cobb’s heart broke a little more. He knew he couldn’t get his hopes up too high, it was the middle of the school year. It was highly unlikely that Din was able to get time off to come to the island.

“Alright, now that everyone’s here-”

“Jeff,” Omera, the one person Cobb considered an ally, spoke up. Cobb turned around to begin to explain to her that it was alright, but she continued anyways, “You forgot Cobb.”

Jeff began to give him a look of pity, much like his did a couple of seasons ago with the letters before he smiled brightly. “I’m just messing, Cowboy. Not the first time this has happened, but we have a loved one coming to visit who was actually on the show before.”

Tears formed as Jeff called out Din’s name and Cobb was off the mat faster than any of his tribemates had been when he saw his boyfriend jog around the corner. Cobb nearly knocked him over as he ran into his embrace. Din’s arms were tight around Cobb’s waist as he lifted him up slightly off of the sand.

“I missed you so much,” Cobb whispered in Din’s ear.

“I missed you too,” he whispered back, his voice muffled by Cobb’s shoulder, feeling his warm skin against his face. They broke apart and shared a soft and quick kiss, fearing that if they let it go any longer, they wouldn’t be able to stop.

“How’s Grogu?” Cobb asked quickly, so much of his focus on Din that he hardly realized his tears still streamed steadily down his face.

Din chuckled, his smile bright. He loved how much Cobb adored and worried for the boy. “He’s fine, we’re both fine.”

“Now, Din,” Jeff spoke, bringing their attention to him, “you know what it’s like to be out here, you’ve played this game. It’s incredibly taxing- I mean, you know. Cobb got sick last time he was out here. What is that like knowing he’s out here again?”

Din let out a half laugh, turning to face him. “Honestly, Jeff,” he sighed out, pulling Cobb tighter to him, “it terrifies me. I think he’s absolutely insane to be out here a second time. I’ve been going crazy sitting at home not knowing anything. But I would also never discourage him from something he really wanted to do.”

Cobb lowered his face to Din’s shoulder, his heart aching from the love and support he knew he had in Din.

Jeff smiled brightly and gave a nod. “I know I normally only ask one question. But, Din, you didn’t see Cobb’s face before you came out here.” His words were cut off by Cobb groaning half-heartedly into Din’s shirt. Jeff laughed and continued, “Cobb, you didn’t even have a letter last time you played. Did you not expect him to come?”

“I had hoped, but I didn’t assume,” Cobb answered honestly, lifting his head. “There was no guarantee Din would be able to get time off. I knew if he could, he would have come, but-”

“I actually called in a family emergency,” Din muttered. Cobb snapped his attention to Din, his jaw dropping. He didn’t know when he had stopped crying and had begun laughing.

Jeff laughed hard. “You really did?”

“There was no way I was missing this visit, Jeff,” Din stated seriously.

New tears formed in Cobb’s eyes. He pulled Din close again and reveled in the feeling of Din’s hands rubbing his back.

Jeff cleared his throat and laughed. “Alright, Cowboy, head back over-”

“Actually, Jeff,” Din interrupted. He laughed as Jeff gave him a look that seemed to only be saved for when all-stars decided to sass him. “Sorry,” he said hurriedly, “it’s just that I don’t know if we’re going to win this and it may be my only time to do it. So if it’s alright, I have something I’d like to say to Cobb.”

Jeff nodded and waved his hand for Din to continue.

Turning back to Cobb, Din laughed lightly at his confused expression. “Cobb,” he spoke softly. “You can’t predict anything out here, it’s not possible. I didn’t come into this game three years ago thinking I’d come out of it with someone as amazing as you in my life. Our story started on an island much like this, on Survivor. I felt it was only right for it to continue on Survivor. So,” Din reached into his pocket and pulled out a small red box. He kept his eyes on Cobb’s as he slowly sank down to kneel in the hot sand. He opened the box to reveal a ring; half wooden, half clear resin with a small cut of a woven weed stem inside it, one that Cobb recognised all too well. “Cobb Vanth, will you marry me?”

Cobb fell to his knees, wincing slightly at the pain, pulling Din into a crushing kiss. At this point, he didn’t care if it was going to hurt to stop. He pulled back, brushing their noses against each other. “Yes,” he whispered only loud enough for Din to hear, tears forming in his eyes. “Yes, of course I will.” He placed another small kiss on Din’s lips. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Din spoke against Cobb’s lips.

Jeff cleared his throat, bringing both men back to the reality of the game. “So, let’s get this clear,” Jeff laughed out. “You said ‘yes’ right?”

Cobb laughed pressing his cheek against Din’s head, enjoying the feeling of the softness of his hair ticking his ear. “Yes, I said ‘yes.’”

Din took the ring out of the box and reached behind him to pull Cobb’s arm off of his shoulder. He smiled brightly as he slid it onto Cobb’s finger, remembering when he watched the part of their season where Cobb slid the woven ring into the same place.

“Alright you two,” Jeff said. “Sorry to break this up, but we have a challenge to get to.”

They exchanged one last kiss before parting and they each moved away to take their places. The father of one of Cobb’s tribemates shook Din’s hand with a smile as he joined the loved ones. Cobb’s tribe patted him on the back, Omera taking Cobb’s hand to get a better look at the ring.

“Aright,” Jeff called, clapping his hands together. “Unless anyone has any other pressing questions to ask.” Everyone laughed. “Let’s get to the challenge, then.” All the players stood up a little straighter. “Today, the challenge will involve both you and your loved one. We’re going to see how good you can communicate. You will be blindfolded and your loved one is going to guide you through a maze, over and under obstacles. You’ll have to race to collect five necklaces with the help of your loved one. First person to have all the necklaces collected and be back on your mat with your loved one wins reward. Sounds simple but if you fail to communicate, it will prove extremely difficult. Let’s get started.”

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

Cobb felt on top of the world. To him, he felt like he was back at home, recreating challenges for Grogu to take part in. Din had the louder voice between them, so that was also a plus in his books. He adored every direction Din called, utterly in love with hearing his voice. He had collected two of the necklaces and truly felt they would win the challenge.

Din tried to call out his name but it was too late. Cobb hadn’t ducked far enough down and managed to bang the side of his head on the bar he had meant to go under.

“Cowboy, are you okay?” Jeff called.

Cobb laughed and gave a thumbs up in Jeff’s general direction. He turned himself around a few times, attempting to regain his bearings when Din spotted the growing patch of dark red soaking into the yellow buff around Cobb’s eyes.

“Jeff, he’s not alright,” Din called quickly, already getting in the position to hop off of the tower he stood on as soon as Jeff gave him the go.

Jeff snapped his gaze to Cobb. “Everybody stop!” He called. “Stay where you are. Din, come down here. Medical!”

Cobb reached up and touched his temple. He couldn’t see still but he could feel the warmth and the wetness on his fingers and knew he must have hit his head much harder than he had thought. Din met Cobb down in the maze and guided Cobb to take a seat on the ground.

The medic rushed to them and lowered Cobb’s blindfold just enough to see the gash.

“What’s happening?” Cobb asked quickly. He felt fine, maybe a little sting. If it weren’t for the warmth against his face, he wouldn’t have even known he was really injured. He leaned into Din’s touch as he sat behind him, lightly rubbing his back.

The medic spoke up, “Just a bit of a gash, Cobb. You hit your head pretty hard back there. You’re fine.”

Cobb sat as still as he could, trying not to wince too harshly at the pain when his temple was touched with something cold. He still couldn’t see but he was grateful that Din was there. This would have been much scarier if he was alone with strangers.

“Can you tell us, mostly Cobb because he still can’t even see,” Jeff said softly, “what the diagnosis is? Is he okay to continue the challenge or is he done?”

The tone in his voice reminded Cobb just a little too much of when Jeff had to explain to him that he was being pulled from the game so close to the end. The wave of anxiety that washed over him made his ears ring and a tear was running down his face before he even had a chance to fight it. He reached blindly for Din’s hand, only realizing once he had it how badly his hands were shaking, Din’s tight grip attempting to steady him. “I don’t want to be evaced again,” he whispered, his voice trembling. He felt Din’s arm wrap tightly around him and he held his hand a little tighter, the one thing grounding him in the moment.

“You’re not getting evaced,” the medic explained. “It’s a pretty nasty gash, not deep, just long.” The medic traced lightly above the wound to let Cobb know exactly where it was. “It doesn’t need stitches. The blood made it seem a lot worse than it is but now that it’s mostly clean, I can say that so long as it’s kept clean and bandaged up, the worst case is you’ll have a pretty wicked scar on your temple to show off.”

Everyone gave a sigh of relief, even the players who had stopped in their tracks near them. Cobb was thankful that people understood how badly he didn’t want to leave the game again.

“So, in that case,” Jeff said, his voice a little lighter now that the weight of that question had been answered. “What about the challenge?”

The medic sighed and paused for a moment. “Well, I suppose that’s up to Cobb. I don’t see any reason why he can’t continue. I can easily patch this up and he can go about the challenge, I’d just want to patch it up better once he’s done. But Cobb, that’s unless you’re in pain or feeling lightheaded, it’s entirely up to you.”

“I’m finishing the challenge,” Cobb stated quickly. He wasn’t going to let something like this keep him from seeing Din.

“If you start to feel at all lightheaded, you let us know,” Jeff said sternly. “Really, Cowboy, we’ll stop the challenge if you do, it’s not a problem. I’d rather stop then have you push yourself too hard.” Cobb nodded. “Okay. Din, go back up to the stand. Cowboy, medic will patch you up. Let’s get back to it.”

Din squeezed his hand one last time, placing a soft kiss to Cobb’s hair before standing and making his way back to the stand. He was determined now more than ever to win this challenge.

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

“Cobb, wins reward!” Jeff called.

Cobb pulled the blood soaked buff and blind fold off from over his eyes and tossed them on the ground. He let his eyes adjust to the light as Din wrapped his arms around him tightly, kissing his cheek. As Cobb’s vision came back into focus, the first thing he saw was Din’s eyes as he smiled at him and for a moment, he was no longer in the game. For a moment it was just them in the entire universe. Cobb wondered if this is how it would feel on their wedding day. He was almost certain it would be.

The two men made their way next to Jeff as he recounted what they won. Cobb was looking forward to a night not only away from camp but with Din. He took Din’s hand and held it tightly, almost attempting to convince himself that he was real and there.

“Cowboy, I want medical to take another look at that gash and then you two can head on over to the boat.” Jeff clapped his hands together and smiled. “As for the rest of you, say bye to your loved ones and head back to camp.”

Cobb watched sadly as everyone said their goodbyes. He wished he had been given the option of taking someone. He would have taken Omera, he had already known that. But he wasn’t going to complain that it was only him and Din. He needed to just be with him.

The medics finished cleaning his injury and gave him instructions of how to handle it after he showered on the boat. Din gave them his promise that he would help with it which seemed to make them happy. With a final question about how Cobb was feeling, the newly engaged couple were sent off on a motorboat to be taken to the ship they were staying on.

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

Cobb wiped the mirror of steam in the bathroom after his shower. He turned his head a little to get a better look at his wound. It was already on its way to healing but the pain of it had finally set in. He had been as careful as he could to not disturb it while washing his hair, even having Din lend a hand when he realized it was much harder to shampoo and rinse around a cut than he had thought. Now looking at it in the mirror without the dirt from his hair making it darker, he could see that it wasn’t deep, just a long cut running from just above his ear to his temple.

He left the bathroom after treating and wrapping his wound and smiled at the sight of Din stretched out on the bed reading a book. Cobb let his body fall a little to the side, resting his shoulder against the door frame. He had missed just observing him so much.

Din looked up from the book and smiled brightly. “How are you feeling?”

Cobb laughed little. “My head hurts but I’m excited to have a pretty awesome scar.”

“You are the only person in the world who would be excited to have a scar,” Din laughed out with a soft scoff.

Cobb took the few steps to the bed and sat next to Din’s legs. “Imagine how cool it’ll be when someone asks where I got the scar from and I get to tell them I got it on Survivor!” He sounded far too excited even to his own ears but he really didn’t care. He was incredibly happy. Happy that he wasn’t pulled from the game. Happy that he was with Din. Despite the anxiety caused from the injury, he could easily state that it was one of his favorite days to date.

Din sat up and took Cobb’s hand, lightly pulling him to lay down beside him. They settled down with Cobb’s head resting on Din’s chest, just like they would back home. Din ran his fingers softly through Cobb’s hair, careful not to touch the injury by mistake. “How’s the game been so far?”

Cobb knew it was an innocent question. It was a question that made sense to ask, especially given that Din knew the game personally. But Cobb wished he hadn’t asked. He tilted his face into Din’s shirt, trying to memorize the scent he already knew so well. He couldn’t answer. He knew the answer would be negative. He didn’t want Din to worry about him more than he knew he already was. He was too exhausted physically and mentally to stop his tears from falling. He held them back for so long at camp - through every fight with a tribemate, every frustrating day they didn't catch any fish, every injury. But now he was with Din and he knew he didn’t have to hold them back.

As soon as Din heard a sniffle and the coolness of his shirt against his chest, his heart shattered. He pulled Cobb up so they could lay next to each other. He wiped a few stray tears away from Cobb’s face with his thumbs. “What’s wrong?” Din’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper.

“I just-” Cobb’s voice broke. “Last game went so well and this one is just-” He closed his eyes, causing more tears to fall. He took a shaky breath. “It’s been rough,” he finally got out. “Everything out here reminds me of you and it drives me crazy. Fennec came back,” he chuckled lightly as Din perked up a little hearing their friend’s name, “so at least I had her after the merge but she got voted off three Tribals ago.” He leaned forward and rested their foreheads together. “I can’t wait to go home.”

Din pulled him closer, allowing Cobb to let his emotions out. He understood. Not even in the terms of knowing the game. He had spent most nights after Grogu fell asleep holding Cobb’s pillow. He tried to stay strong for Grogu, he was worried enough about Cobb without having to know Din was as well. So Din spent his days keeping them both busy to keep their minds off of it and at night he would let his own emotions out as quietly as he could, trying to take in the little bit of Cobb’s scent left on the pillow.

When Cobb had run out of tears to cry he took a shaky breath and pulled away just enough to wipe his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “It’s just a game. I need to keep telling myself that, it’s just a game.”

Din shook his head quickly and placed a soft kiss to Cobb’s forehead. “I’m so proud of you.” When Cobb scoffed he placed his hand gently under Cobb’s chin to bring his face up towards his. “Seriously. Playing this game once is hard enough. Playing it a second time- I can’t even imagine. I am so incredibly proud of you.”

Cobb smiled brightly. He thought how strange it was to smile genuinely. He had missed it.

“Come on,” Din said with a nudge to Cobb’s arm. “Let’s go eat and get you some water. Don’t want you to get dehydrated.”

Cobb scoffed out a laugh as he got off the bed to follow Din out of the suite. “Yeah, don’t want to do that again.”

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

Dinner on the deck of the boat was perfect. They were able to watch the sunset over a nearby island and the way Din’s eyes lit up as the stars began to appear was priceless to Cobb. He was thankful that Din had played the game. He might be away from camp and unable to strategize with his alliance, but running ideas past Din made up for it. He was able to see situations from a different point of view, letting Cobb see better ways to go about them.

At dessert, they both fell silent. Cobb lowered his gaze and spun the ring around on his finger.

“Do you like it?” Din asked as he set his bowl of ice cream aside and rested his arms on the table. “I knew for a while I wanted to use the ring I made you but I didn’t know how to do it without you noticing it was gone. Then you decided to come back on the show and it gave me an opportunity I didn’t know if I’d get again.” He spoke fast, his hands fidgeting, suddenly nervous.

Cobb looked up and chuckled, loving when Din rambled. “I love it.” He reached across the table and took Din’s hand. He liked the way the ring pressed into his knuckle and Din interlocked their fingers, reminding him that it was there. ”I love you.”

“I love you too,” Din whispered, his voice threatening to break.

Cobb tilted his head a little, his eyes turning quickly from soft to worried. “What’s wrong, Darlin’?”

Din sighed heavily. He knew Cobb didn’t need him breaking down right now. He needed him to be strong. He needed to not feel guilty for leaving. “I miss you,” he decided on simply. He shook his head lightly and took his hands away from Cobb’s to bring them up to hold his face. He needed to be strong, Cobb needed him to be.

Standing from his seat, Cobb made his way around the table. He placed his hand lightly on Din’s arm, causing him to drop his hand from his face and bring his teary gaze up to Cobb. “Let’s go to bed,” Cobb whispered, tugging a little.

Neither spoke as they made their way to the bedroom. They moved around each other easily, as they would if they were back at home. It wasn’t until they were under the covers, their arms tightly around each other that the silence was finally broken.

“You really scared me today,” Din spoke, his voice barely audible.

“I was pretty scared today,” Cobb admitted. He pulled away just enough to look up at Din but the other man refused to meet his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault that I got hurt.” He knew where Din’s mind was, the same place it was three years ago. He knew Din had some overwhelming need to protect those he cared about and while Cobb appreciated his concern, he wished he didn’t have to endure the guilt anxiety he always faced when he was unable to do so.

Din sighed deeply, tears returning to his eyes, no longer trying to keep them away. He opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out. He just sighed again and closed his eyes.

“Darlin’,” Cobb said in what was a normal volume but in the quiet of the room sounded loud. It served its purpose in bringing Din’s gaze back to his, Cobb’s heart aching as he saw Din’s tears. He mirrored the action of wiping them as Din had done for him earlier. “It was not your fault.”

“I should have been paying more attention,” Din defended. “I should have warned you, I-”

Cobb crashed their lips together, silencing his mind more importantly than his words. Din hummed into the kiss and pulled Cobb closer. His hand out of habit found its way to Cobb’s hair, earning a hiss of pain as his fingers brushed over Cobb’s bandage, causing them to pull away. They took a moment to just stare at each other, the love evident in both their eyes. Both felt, for at least that moment, the weight of the day and the last few weeks lift off of them.

“Thank you,” Cobb sighed, nestling his head to Din’s chest.

Din pressed a kiss to Cobb’s hair. “For what?”

Cobb gave a soft laugh. “For coming out here.” He tightened his arms around Din. “I needed this.”

“Of course,” Din whispered. “I would miss it for anything, Starshine.”

Cobb smiled brightly, always adoring the rare times Din used that name for him. He always saved it for the softest and calmest moments between them.

They settled in for sleep but just laid in silence for a long time, neither really wanting to sleep. They just wanted to hold each other for as long as they could, not worrying about the game or the other players. They both thought about when Cobb had been evaced and they had found themselves in a no-so-different situation than the one they were in now. Just two people calming each other’s anxieties with a simple embrace.

Cobb eventually couldn’t tell if Din was asleep or not. His breathing was calm enough that he could have been, but Din very rarely fell asleep before him. Cobb always thought it was a habit from watching over Grogu, but he was never really certain.

“Darlin’?” he whispered as gently as he could. If Din was asleep, there was no chance it would disturb him.

“Yes, Starshine?”

He sighed happily and lifted his head a little. “What do you think about a beach wedding?”

Din hummed. “Seems appropriate. Is Grogu going to be our ring bearer?”

“I think he’d be pretty upset if he wasn’t,” Cobb laughed.

“Alright,” Din whispered with a nod. “How’s purple for our main color?”

“Purple?” Cobb asked. When Din nodded he shifted a little to look up at him better. “Why purple?”

Din smiled brightly, his eyes so full of love it made Cobb’s heart skip. “It was our merging color. We finally got to be together at the merge.”

Cobb closed the short distance and pressed their lips together in a soft kiss. He pulled away quickly, laughing as Din leaned in to follow his lips. “Purple sounds amazing, Darlin’.” He laid back down and held Din tightly. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

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

The morning went by far too quickly for either of their liking. After a quick cup of coffee they were put on a motor boat and on their way back to camp. Din held Cobb’s hand the entire morning, not wanting to let any space pass between them, fearing they might not get the chance to reconnect.

As the camp came into sight, Cobb could see Omera waving at them from the beach. Cobb smiled and waved back, the ring catching his eye as he lifted his hand. He spun it with his thumb as he brought his hand back down and smiled brightly. At least after Din left he would still have this reminder of him. It felt the same as when Din left him the original stem ring last time.

Din walked him up to the shore and gave him a deep but short kiss. “You stop getting hurt,” he mumbled against his lips.

Cobb let out a soft laugh. “I’ll try my best. This game likes seeing me get hurt.” He wrapped his arms tightly around Din. “Tell Grogu I love him so much. I miss him.”

“He misses you too,” Din admitted. He had tried not to tell Cobb how worried the boy was for him. “We’ll both be there at the airport when you come home, okay?”

Cobb nodded and took a deep breath. “Just a little bit longer.” He smiled despite his heart breaking at the idea of having to let Din go. “And then we can start properly planning our wedding.”

With one final kiss they finally let go. Din waved once he was back on the motor boat, and then he was disappearing into the distance.

Cobb took a deep shaky breath and nodded. He turned on his heel and smiled as best he could at Omera. “So,” he spoke as steadily as he could, “what’d I miss?”

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

Nineteen days later, Cobb got off the plane, a bounce in his step that he had been missing last time he left the game. This time he wasn’t heading back to an empty apartment. This time he was headed home to family.

“Dad!”

Cobb looked down to see a blur of Grogu’s green hat as he ran to him, throwing his arms around Cobb’s legs. His eyes flicked up to Din quickly who was smiling brightly. Cobb felt the happiest of tears fill his eyes. While Cobb had long considered the boy to be his son, it was the first time Grogu had ever called him “Dad.” Cobb knelt down and pulled the boy into a tight hug, not ever wanting to let him go.

“How was the game?” Grogu asked excitedly, seemingly not realizing the impact that his single word had on both his fathers.

“Honestly?” Cobb looked between the two people he loved most in the universe. “I think I won.”

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

Note: This fic was honestly very self-indulgent and nothing else. I really started this as a one-shot that I assumed nobody else would enjoy, I just wanted to put it out into the universe because I wanted to read it and knew nobody else would write it. So the fact that people have actually enjoyed this and let me have fun with it means the world to me.

I left things open so I have the opportunity to go back and make a collection out of it, maybe add some random one-shots about Cobb and Boba's alliance or Fennec and Din's. Maybe I'll even add some proper Migs/Boba stuff in there. I'm not sure yet.

Thank you all for going on this fun little journey with me! And if you're wondering, yes, Cobb did win.

#dincobb #din x cobb #marshalorian #marshmando #din djarin #cobb vanth #survivor au #modern au #Han writes

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cutieodonoghue · 3 years

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the edge of hope (4/9)

Catch up here: 1, 2, 3

Fourth chapter below the cut or on AO3!

The Heiress

Very slowly and held together by sheer luck, the Razor Crest approached the estuary moon of Trask. The passengers of the ship had slept for a short while at the beginning, but were now all awake, sitting in a silence that felt tepid. Omera kept her eyes on the windows while she held tight to her yawning daughter.

This journey had started off so hopeful only a handful of days ago, and now, they were flying in a ship so broken that they all had to squeeze into the cockpit and pray that the door wouldn’t fly off.

Was it worth it? Omera pondered this question often over the course of the past day or so especially, trapped on an icy planet with no clear path of escape.

Her gaze shifted to Din, whose slouched posture indicated that he may have still been resting. She had to smile just slightly. He’d worked hard to keep them safe, and she knew this wasn’t the journey he’d wanted for them.

Yes, she decided, even with all of their struggles and scares thus far, joining Din and his son on their path to find the Jedi had been worth it. Winta had been given a gift many of the children in their village would never have the chance to receive: adventure. Omera had been given the gift of spending time with the man she loved.

In the smallest moments with Din was where she’d found the most joy. His fingers on her knee on Tatooine. The way he’d gone speechless at the sight of her wearing his clothes. Working in tandem to fix the ship. Even if they were unable to spend any time together in the future, being here now would have been worth it.

The nav system beeped, alerting them of their proximity to Trask, and Din jolted forward, his hands already at their positions.

“Looks like we made it.” He turned, checking to see if everyone was awake. “Get ready for landing.”

The Crest began its descent, but it wasn’t easy. The ship jolted and jerked. Din seemed overwhelmed as he checked the levers and knobs on the console.

“Dank farrik! The landing array isn’t responding.” Bad. “Without the guidance system, it’ll be a manual re-entry. It might get choppy.” Worse. “Once we’re through the atmosphere, there should be enough fuel to slow down. If we don’t burn to a crisp.”

His words were less than reassuring, but Omera chose to believe that it would be alright. After a moment, Din called out over his shoulder, “Omera, come up here. I need your hands!”

She was on her feet in an instant, allowing Winta the entire seat for herself. She came alongside Din and he touched her hand to the lever he wanted help with.

“This lever needs to stay back. Keep it steady.”

They began to plummet and the entire ship felt like fragile glass beneath them. Fire damaged the lower belly of the Crest, sending alerts up to the console in bright flashing red lights and alarms.

But now, she could see the port. They were getting close. Probably too fast.

“Razor Crest, this is Trask flight control. Please reduce your speed to port protocol.”

“I’m trying my best here,” Din replied, pained. “Engage reverse thrusters. Brace!”

Omera reached out with a free hand to grab the side of the ship, bracing as the ship dropped in altitude.

“Razor Crest, do you copy? You have to reduce speed.”

“Almost there, almost there.” Din’s words came as the ship began its final descent, finally just above a landing spot in the waters of Trask’s port.

Omera prayed with everything within her that the cockpit was waterproof.

Din focused intently on the landing, finally setting them down on what felt like the landing pad. It was seamless. “Here we go. Nice and easy.”

The ship almost instantly jolted downward, lopsided, sending them down into the water. Blessedly, the cockpit held, even if Omera had fallen to the floor in the collapse.

“Nice and easy,” Omera teased. Din looked at her and she could tell he was glaring through his helmet. She shook her head. “Next time, maybe.”

Din scoffed. “I definitely want to do that again.”

The ship was raised from the water then by the careful help of a crane and settled on the landing pad they’d struggled to find balance on. The Mandalorian helped her off of the floor, his hand gentle and strong in hers.

On a sigh, he turned to the Frog Lady and Winta. “Well, we made it.”

Winta grinned. “That was fun!”

“Fun?” Din asked. “We’ll put you in the pilot’s chair next time, then.”

Her daughter giggled. “Can you teach me how to fly?”

Din stood and guided the little girl out of the cockpit. “I thought we already had your first lesson.”

“Oh yeah!”

Omera steadied herself when she felt a wave of nausea, a hand falling absentmindedly to her middle.

In all of the excitement, she’d very narrowly forgotten that she was pregnant. The Frog Lady seemed to notice, tilting her head at her while she settled her egg backpack over her shoulders.

She croaked, sympathetic in tone.

Omera offered her a soft smile in response. She gave her belly a slight rub. “We’re a lot alike.”

The Frog Lady nodded with compassion in her eyes. She approached Omera and set her hand over hers. It was startling how understood she felt.

“I haven’t told the Mandalorian,” Omera admitted in a quiet voice. She shook her head. “I don’t know how.”

Her companion croaked again. She removed her hand and held it outwards for her, as if to offer her the chance to leave first.

Omera smiled politely. “You go on ahead. I’m sure you’re anxious to see your husband.”

The Frog Lady paused, hesitant, before she gave in and walked away.

It took a minute, but the nausea passed, and Omera breathed in deep, the scent of the ocean filling her nostrils. It reminded her of Sorgan, the water, and offered a sense of calm.

Stepping down the ladder from the cockpit, she found the rest of the Razor Crest’s passengers already venturing off the ship, the Frog Lady the last on the ramp.

Ahead of her, she spotted Winta with her hand in the Mandalorian’s, and the Child in his floating pram. Already, Winta had become so attached to Din.

Omera gathered her bag and swiftly disembarked the ship.

The Razor Crest dripped with water, spouts of it raining from drainage all around her, and as she walked away, she looked at the damage.

It was a lot worse than it had been before. Parts had actually fallen off in their landing. The door to the cargo hold seemed to be stuck permanently open. It looked like it had been through absolute hell and back.

She could only imagine how much this would cost to get fixed properly.

Omera caught up to Din and the children at the dock. She spotted the Frog Lady ahead of them, looking around with haste to find her husband. For a moment, it almost seemed as if she might have to keep up her search.

But suddenly, a call from a voice similar to the Frog Lady echoed from across the dock. The Frog Lady took off in a run, bustling through the crowd with her eggs in tow. As Omera watched the couple embrace, she came alongside Din.

“You did it. They’re reunited.”

Din looked down at her. “We did it.”

Omera smiled softly. They were a team. Together, they’d fixed up the Razor Crest and brought the Frog Lady and her eggs home in one piece.

Careful not to crowd the Frog Couple, they hung back a little as the pair chattered excitedly over their eggs. The Frog Man turned to Din and took his hand, shaking it brusquely.

“You’re welcome. I was told you could lead me to others of my kind.”

The Frog Man nodded eagerly. He gestured out, pointing to a nearby inn.

“The inn? Over there?”

Again, the Frog Man nodded. He and his wife held hands as they led them toward it, as if they were eager to give as much as they could as a way of thanking the Mandalorian for his kindness.

“Do you think we could get a room?” Omera asked Din.

“Let’s see what we can learn. Then we’ll see about a room.”

Once seated at a table in the inn’s restaurant, Omera felt as if she could relax a little bit. The crowd of fishermen in the restaurant were a mixture of Mon Calamari and Quarren in species, all of them preoccupied with their bowls of chowder and conversation to care about their group.

“What can I get you?” the waiter asked.

“Nothing for me.” Din held tight to his creed even if he was probably just as hungry as the rest of them. “A bowl of chowder for everyone else.”

“These seats are scarce, buddy. Everyone seated needs to eat.”

Din settled a generous physical payment on the table, one that the waiter took easily. “I can buy something else. Information. Have you seen others that look like me?”

He poured chowder into each of their bowls from the device hanging on the ceiling. The chowder was white and smelled a bit odd, but Omera was just hungry enough that she was willing to give it a try.

“Others with beskar have been through here.”

“Who can take me to them?”

“I know someone who might help.”

Omera watched as the man went to another of his kind a few tables away, sharing a discussion that brought focus onto the Mandalorian sitting at the table beside her. She shifted her gaze when she realized Winta was giggling at the Child.

A small sea creature jumped out of his bowl and onto his face. Din slashed it with his knife.

“Don’t play with your food.”

The Child made a little noise and leaned over his bowl again, this time having a sip of the food. Seeing that both of the children were eating, Omera felt comfortable feeding herself. She lifted the bowl to her lips just as the man from a few tables away approached.

“You seek others of your kind?”

“Have you seen them?”

“Aye. I can bring you to them.”

There was something about the man that made Omera nervous. He had an easygoing tone, but the way he eyed Din left her wondering if his motivations were pure.

“Where?”

“Only a few hours’ sail. It’ll cost you, though.”

“Always does.” Din sighed. “Can you take me to them tomorrow?”

The man shrugged. “Anything you’d like. Just bring the credits.”

After they finished eating, Din got them a room to stay in for the next few nights while they explored Trask in search of others of his kind. It was small, with a double bed in the center and a bathroom they could use to freshen up in, but it was enough.

Winta collapsed almost instantly on the bed with a relieved sigh. “I wish the Razor Crest had one of these, Din.”

“I don’t think something like that would fit on my ship.”

Omera padded across the room to check in the bathroom if there was a tub for bathing. A smile found her lips when she discovered that there was.

“Looks like it’ll be bath night, Winta.”

Her daughter pushed herself up so she sat on the edge of the bed. “That’s good. My hair is smelly.”

“I imagine,” Omera teased. “Mine must be too.”

She watched Din survey the room as if he were searching for traps. It seemed to her that he was anxious for the day that lay ahead of him meeting those of his kind.

“Does the Child need a bath?” Omera asked. “If we’re all going to clean up, I think getting his bath done first would probably be best. He can try to go to sleep after.”

“He’ll get the water all over,” Winta giggled. She jumped off of the bed and approached the Child’s floating pram, reaching inside to grab him. “Do you want a bath?”

“I haven’t ever really given him one,” Din admitted in a soft, awkward voice.

Winta put her fingers over the Child’s head, gently stroking. She had always been a caring girl, looking after the younger children in the village as if it were her responsibility. One day, maybe, Winta would make a natural mother.

“I think he would like it.”

“Go ahead.” Din nodded. “I should go see if I can find something to eat. Want to check in on our passenger to make sure she’s okay too.”

Winta beamed happily at the prospect of giving the Child a well deserved bath and carried him with her toward the refresher.

Omera folded her arms to her chest and studied the Mandalorian. He crossed the room toward her on his way out like he was eager to do something - anything at all.

“You okay?”

He stopped at her side and nodded. “Just… been a rough couple of days. We need a win here.”

She hummed. “I have faith. When you find the Mandalorians, they will have an answer.” Omera settled her hand over his heart and offered him a tiny smile. “In the meantime, our victories should come from knowing we’re doing our best to care for one another. The children are happy and healthy. We still have plenty of time to find your boy’s kind.”

Din reached for the hand at her side and put his opposite palm over her wrist, bent slightly to hold hers.

“I know I’ve said it before, but I’m glad you’re here.”

Her heart fluttered at his admission. “I’m glad, too.”

He lowered his forehead to hers, one hand moving up toward her cheek to hold her steady. Omera smiled at the closeness of the embrace and allowed herself to get comfortable in it.

“This is called a Keldabe kiss,” Din explained in a quiet voice. “My people use it to show affection.”

Her smile only spread wider knowing that it was the equivalent of a kiss. “I wondered if it was something like that.”

For a moment, they were able to stay as they were, holding onto one another by touching the crowns of their heads with their hands held tenderly over Din’s heart.

“Mama, can you help?” Winta called from beyond, a jarring reminder of reality.

With some reluctance, Omera released Din from her grasp. “Go get something to eat. I’ll get the children clean and try putting them to bed.”

Taking a few steps backward, she watched the Mandalorian, her heart still beating fast from their gentle intimacy. He waved goodbye to her and she echoed the sentiment.

Turning toward the refresher, Omera’s teeth dug into her lower lip to keep from smiling too big.

When night covered Trask like a dark blanket, Din returned to the room at the inn. He’d found something to eat and thought to grab a few extras for them to share come the morning, already anticipating the Child’s ravenous appetite.

When the door closed behind him, he found himself staring at Winta and Omera, curled up together on one half of the bed, while the Child snoozed in his pram nearby.

Gently, he settled the supplies he’d picked up on a table that lined the wall next to the door.

With everyone sound asleep, Din had only one thing in mind: getting into the refresher to get clean himself.

The door locked behind him and he worked with practiced ease to remove his armor, helmet coming off first so he could finally breathe fresh air through his nose and see without his visor.

The small space of the bathroom smelled already of flowery fragrances and there appeared to have been somewhat of a mess, water sprayed on the floor. He could only imagine how things had gone with the Child in a bath.

The Child probably did enjoy it, as Winta had suggested, probably too much.

The water in the shower was gratefully warm, a pleasant departure from the ice from that rock they’d nearly been stranded on permanently. His armor offered him more warmth than what plain clothes granted, but not much more.

Quickly, Din cleaned the past couple of days off of his skin. Sweat, blood, and grime washed down the drain and he scrubbed some of the flowery smelling liquid into his hair, briefly wondering if Omera would smell just like it, too.

It was incredible how quickly his thoughts shifted to her. Before he’d gone back to Sorgan to see her again, he’d find himself in situations similar to this, allowing his mind to wander to her as if he had nowhere better to set his thoughts.

Bringing her along on the journey to find the Jedi hadn’t exactly been in his plans when he went to Sorgan. In fact, he’d gone to Sorgan to repent of what he’d thought had been a mistake on his part, hoping to just clear his conscience of what he’d done when he knew Omera was alright.

Having them along with him made things difficult in some ways, but in the overwhelming sense, he felt as if being in this together made it easier. Easier in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He dried himself off as soon as he was finished with the warm water. Clothes and armor back in place, he felt better, new, and went to see if he could fit on the bed next to the girls.

The last time he’d laid beside Omera had been the first time he’d laid next to her. The night they’d spent together, giving to one another the most intimate of a stolen moment in time.

She’d come to him, warm and unassuming. His heart had acted faster than his brain could catch up. It seemed she was one of the only people in the galaxy who could do that to him.

The bed was much more comfortable than his chair in the cockpit of the Crest, where he’d last allowed his eyes to close. He laid on top of the blankets, facing the ceiling with his hands clasped together over his chest.

Beside him, the bed shifted and he turned his head to see Omera facing him, her eyes open.

“Did you get something to eat?”

Din smiled softly beneath his helmet. “Yes. Picked up some extra for the morning too.”

Omera’s lips curled at the ends and she reached out with one hand to touch the side of his helmet. “Try to sleep. Don’t worry about tomorrow.”

He lifted both of his hands, tugging the glove from one to remove it. When his bare hand was free, he brought it to Omera’s, giving her one of the only things he could when his whole being ached for something more.

She thoughtfully turned her hand and gently touched their fingertips together before pressing her palm to his. Slowly, her small fingers filled the spaces between, curling as she lowered her fingertips to his knuckles.

Ever so gently, she brushed her thumb against the side of his and offered him a kind, almost loving, smile. As he stared at her, he saw that secret again, hiding and private, dancing behind her pretty brown eyes.

It wouldn’t be right to ask about it now, while the children were sleeping so close by, but he resolved he’d ask soon. All he wanted was to know that she felt whole, and seeing the shade of fear in her eyes imposed by this secret made him think she didn’t feel that way at all.

“Rest, Din,” Omera whispered.

“You too.”

As Din allowed himself to fall asleep, he thought back to their conversation earlier. She was right. The children were happy and healthy. He didn't need to worry about how quickly he could find the Jedi when he could see victories here, with them.

For the first time in a long time, when Omera woke, she felt rested. Lately, she’d found it difficult to sleep even back home on Sorgan in her own bed.

As she opened her eyes, she decided it had to have been because of the pregnancy. Her body needed more energy, and she hadn’t exactly been allowing herself to charge up on the unborn’s behalf.

Very quickly, she realized that she was the last one to wake. She heard Winta’s giggles and the Child’s cooing babbles. Even warmer was Din’s low, even voice as he dealt with both of them on his own.

Omera sat up in the bed, wincing ever so slightly at the light that came from the overhead lamp.

The Child was tucked under one of the Mandalorian’s arms, both of them sitting directly beside her in the bed while Din offered his son food to eat. Winta sat on the foot of the bed, nibbling on whatever Din had brought them to share.

Perking up at the sight of her freshly awake, Winta grinned, crawling over top of the bed towards her. “Morning, Mama.”

“Good morning, Winta.”

“You slept for a long time. Din was worried about you.”

Din sighed. “I wasn’t worried.”

Winta hummed. “Yes you were.” She gave Din a very matter-of-fact look. “You asked me if she usually sleeps this long. Twice.”

Omera laughed to herself and looked over at the Mandalorian, whose open palm held the food meant for the Child to eat. It was touching that he’d been worried about her.

“I needed to sleep. Thank you for not waking me any sooner.”

After they shared their food, Din settled the Child into his floating pram and said, “I’ll take the kid with me to the harbor, but I think you and Winta should stay here. I don’t know if I can trust him. Heard them saying something about my beskar.”

Omera nodded in agreement. “There was something about him I didn’t like either.” She looked at the Child. “You’re sure you want to bring him?”

“We are a clan of two. Where I go, he goes.”

Omera nodded in understanding. She reached into the pram and stroked her thumb over the top of the Child’s head. “Be good for Din, little one.”

The Child cooed adorably, his ears twitching at the feeling of her hand on top of his head.

Omera looked up at the Mandalorian, whose gaze always seemed to be on her. He was closer to her than he had been before, but then again, he always seemed to be close to her too.

He lowered the crown of his head to hers ever so briefly and she set her hands on either side of his helmet.

“Be safe.”

When he pulled away, he said, “We’ll be back tonight. Let’s plan to meet at the chowder place downstairs at sunset.”

Omera liked his optimism, but worried he might not be able to fulfill the plan. She didn’t know what laid ahead. “We’ll be there.”

Winta wrapped her arms around Din’s side in a tight hug, a surprise to the Mandalorian. He lowered his hand to the back of her head with the slightest hesitance.

“We’ll be back in a few hours, Winta.”

“I know,” she said. She smiled up at him. “Just for good luck that you’ll find your Mandalorians.”

Din nodded once. “Thank you.”

When Winta pulled away, Din took an audible breath and stepped toward the door. As it opened, he looked back toward them as if he had something to say, but said nothing, instead leaving them on their own.

Almost instantly, Omera’s fingers fell to her middle, where she swore her belly had swollen up even more over the course of a night, and sighed softly through her nose. She really needed to tell him.

It had been four months since that night, which meant very soon, it would be quite unmistakable that she was with child. Even now, she felt as if the child had begun to show enough that Din might be able to tell on his own. Maybe he already had noticed and was just being polite while he waited for her to say something.

“Mama, can we go see the Frog Lady? I wonder if her eggs are going to hatch.”

She laughed a little. “Okay.”

Winta noticed her hand over her belly and looked up at her curiously. “Have you told Din yet?”

Omera shook her head. “Not yet. He has a lot on his mind. I don’t want to overwhelm him.”

“But your belly is growing,” Winta noted, her hands settling on either side of Omera’s small bump. “And it will get even bigger.”

“I know,” Omera sighed. “I’ll tell him soon. Just not yet.”

“Tonight?” Winta suggested. “Once he finds his kind, he might have less on his mind.”

Omera chuckled. She ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair and shook her head. “Why do you want him to know so badly?”

“Because I’m excited to be a big sister,” Winta admitted, bouncing on her feet. “Will Din be the baby’s father?”

Her eyes widened a little in surprise. “Um… I don’t know. I don’t think he thinks of us in a family sort of way. Not yet, anyway.”

Winta’s nose and brow both wrinkled as she pondered Omera’s explanation. “But he does all the things you do for me, Mama. He feeds us, gives us a place to sleep, and keeps us warm and safe.”

Omera smiled softly at her daughter’s innocence. She continued to run her fingers through her hair as she considered what to say.

“Being a family is more than those things. It means you give your heart away. That you love regardless of how you feel. That you stick together through all things.”

Her daughter frowned. She clung to Omera, burying her face into her side. “How do you feel that way for someone? If they aren’t like you and me and Baby…” Winta’s fingers trailed over Omera’s belly as she paused, thoughtful. “It must be hard to give your heart away.”

“It is.” Omera nodded. “But often, your heart decides on its own who to choose.”

“Has your heart chosen Din?”

She bit down on her lip, her heart feeling heavy. “It has.”

Winta pulled herself away from Omera and stared up at her, still thoughtful. “Is Din the one who gave Baby to you? Is that why your heart has chosen him?”

A blush very quickly found her cheeks. She shook her head. “That’s enough questions about the baby for now. Let’s go find our friend. Maybe we can bring her a gift to celebrate her arrival here.”

Winta sighed. Clearly, she wanted all of the answers that Omera felt the most unsure about, and she wanted them right away.

“Okay…”

“You ever been on a boat, kid?” Din asked the Child.

From within his hovering pram, the boy stared up at him, tilting his head to the side. He made a little noise, patu, and Din nodded his head once.

“Try not to get seasick. Don’t wanna get your clothes dirty and have to get you another bath.”

This time, the Child made a different noise, like he wouldn’t mind it. Blep.

“You liked the bath, didn’t you?” Din asked. He smirked to himself, giving a small shake of his head. “Omera spoils you.”

The Child hummed.

Din knew that the kid liked Omera. He knew that Omera liked the kid, too. She was a good mother. Even if she hadn’t intended to take on that role for the boy, he was glad that she had.

He did his best where it came to being his father. The word felt funny even to think, but the Armorer had bestowed the title upon him. All he could do was honor him and the path they had been set upon. He could care for him and guide him. Teach him his manners.

He was trying. That’s what mattered. He hoped the kid could see it.

Ahead of them, he saw the captain of the ship that could take them to meet up with his kind. This was the moment he’d been waiting for. This would define their next steps.

Din guided them to the ship at the dock. He kept an eye out for danger, cautious in case the stranger fisherman wanted to try anything from the docks.

“Excuse me. We spoke yesterday about a ride to find more of my kind. Mandalorians.”

The fisherman nodded. “Yeah. I remember. You got credits?”

“Yes.”

The fisherman eyed him briefly, then looked at the Child. He nodded his head. “Settle up and we’ll be on our way. There’s a mamacore out there, right in our path. Impressive beasts. You ever seen a mamacore?”

“Can’t say I have.”

He hummed. “We’ll get up close. Get you a good look.”

The fishing boat was modest in size, crewed by a modest crew of five Quarren.

After a couple of hours on the water with no end in sight, the bad feeling Din had about the captain of the vessel only intensified. There didn’t appear to be any land masses anywhere nearby, and the fog that settled over the waters was eerie.

“You ever see a mamacore eat? Quite a sight.”

Din looked blankly at the captain of the ship. The Quarren gestured to the Child beside Din, still safely stowed in his floating pram.

“Child might take an interest. You should take a look. Come on over here.”

Din cautiously allowed the Child to follow after him toward the center of the fishing boat. There was a large grate in the floor that opened up to the choppy waves.

“Get a good view. Let the kid see.”

He and the Child stayed back a safe distance, just close enough that they could see into the water, and Din held out a hand to stop the kid from going any closer. “All right, close enough.”

The captain of the fishing vessel rigged up a net of dead fish just above the freshly exposed hole in the middle of the ship. With a swift releasing mechanism operated by a lever, the net broke open and the fish dropped down for the mamacore to feed on.

“She must be hungry.”

The waters began to bubble, signifying the arrival of the mamacore, and the captain continued to ramble, but before the creature of the sea could emerge, the Quarren used his fishing spear to push the floating pram and the Child into the water.

Din’s stomach lurched. “No!”

In an instant, the mamacore surged upwards, its sharp teeth and claws descending upon the Child’s pram in the most horrifying instant. He didn’t have to think twice- he jumped in after him.

The water was murky, and he didn’t have a plan for fighting the mamacore. As he tried to find the creature beneath the surface, he very quickly ran out of air. Surging to the surface, where the boat was, he was met with resistance in the form of a grate.

It was a trap.

It seemed the Quarren operating the fishing vessel were, in fact, hunting him down for his beskar. They jabbed at him with their spears through the holes in the grate as he tried to push back on it.

How the hell was he supposed to save the kid and get himself out of this situation all on his own?

One jab of the spear in the right spot made him lose his grip on the bars, sending him back down into the water. He was as unprepared as the first time, but this time, water flooded his lungs.

With a renewed anger, he surged back up to the surface, just in time to catch his breath and get attacked all over again.

But before the fishermen could push him down below the water’s surface again, they were met with force by a Mandalorian from just beyond his sights.

He could hardly make out what went on, too focused on his breathing as he coughed and struggled to keep his head above the water.

He heard the sounds of a couple of other Mandalorians arriving via jetpack as the fighting continued. With his eyes fallen shut, Din coughed and set his focus on one thing: hope.

He would get out of this. The kid would too. He’d be safe within the pram. They just needed to get into the jaws of the creature and pry him out. Hopefully it wasn’t too late.

The grate that had locked Din away from safety aboard the boat finally pulled back. In front of him, a Mandalorian held out their hand to help tug him out of the water he’d very nearly drowned in.

“Take my hand.”

Din did as the Mandalorian asked of him, and as she helped him up out of the water, he choked out, “There’s a creature. It has the Child.”

“On it!” The words came from one of the other Mandalorians.

Focused on the Mandalorian who had pulled him from the water, Din added weakly, “The Child. Help the Child.”

“Don’t worry, brother. We’ve got this.”

He struggled to catch his breath. His body trembled and tears sat unshed in his eyes. The shock of this attack hit him differently than most did. He wasn’t a skilled swimmer, and although he probably could’ve compensated for it with his weapons, he hadn’t been prepared for the fight.

The sounds of gunfire came from beneath the ship and Din set his focus on the opening. Dread flooded him from top to bottom.

What if he’d failed? What if the pram wasn’t strong enough to protect the Child from harm? How would he explain this to Omera and Winta?

As much as he doubted himself in the past, this was a harsh reminder of how inadequate he was. Did all fathers struggle with these feelings?

The Mandalorian who had plunged down into the water to battle the mamacore emerged with a gush of water that broke the surface. She landed on the boat, pram in between her hands, and set it down on the ground next to him.

After tearing it open, she grabbed for the baby inside. “Here you go, little one.”

She handed the Child to Din. He instantly cradled him in one arm and placed his palm against the baby’s chest as he examined him. He was completely unharmed, and hadn’t even gotten wet.

A calming wave covered him. It was alright. They were both alright. A breath he hadn’t realized he was holding slid past his lips and he felt the hot tears escape his eyes out of sheer relief.

Finally, he looked up at their saviors. His voice still trembled a bit when he spoke, “Thank you.”

Briefly, he checked on the Child again. Safe. He was safe.

The fear he held in his heart gave way to something different in this instance. Was it love? Did he love this child?

Afraid of what the answer might be, Din set his focus on the next realization: this was the moment he’d been searching for. He’d found his kind. Now, he needed to do right by the kid.

He needed to find a Jedi. That was his path.

“I’ve been searching for more of our kind.”

Of the three Mandalorians who stood in front of him, the one who had rescued him from the water replied, “Well, lucky we found you first.”

“I’ve been quested to deliver this child. I was hoping that…”

He stopped dead in his tracks when all three of the Mandalorians standing on the deck of the ship removed their helmets from their heads. As he stood to be on their level, a certain degree of rage simmered just beneath the surface of his skin.

On Tatooine, it had only been Cobb Vanth who wore Mandalorian armor. He’d worn it as a means to protect his town, as a symbol of strength. He hadn’t understood the Mandalorian creed because he wasn’t Mandalorian.

Now, three much more powerful strangers stood before him in Mandalorian armor, skilled with their weapons, and treated him as their equal.

Never removing one's helmet was one of the first things they’d taught him as a Foundling. It was a key to being a Mandalorian. To remove your helmet meant turning your back on the creed.

“Where did you get that armor?”

The woman in the middle seemed confused by his tone, keeping her voice light as she replied, “This armor has been in my family for three generations.”

“You do not cover your face.” Din felt himself growing angrier with the passing moments. “You are not Mandalorian.”

This time, the man on the right spoke, “He’s one of them.”

“One of what?” Din asked the woman in the middle, the one he deemed to be the leader.

“I am Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze.” She took a tempered pause. “I was born on Mandalore and fought in the Purge. I am the last of my line. And you are a Child of the Watch.”

“The Watch?”

“Children of the Watch are a cult of religious zealots that broke away from Mandalorian society.” Bo-Katan’s gaze fell upon the Child in his arm. “Their goal was to re-establish the ancient way.”

Din gritted his teeth. “There is only one way. The Way of the Mandalore.”

After a few hours sitting with the sweet Frog Couple and their new tadpole in their humble home, Omera walked Winta through the shops along the dock, holding onto her hand tight enough that she wouldn’t get lost or wander.

Her daughter seemed nervous by all of the excess stimuli that a new planet like this crafted on its own, so it didn’t matter all that much how tightly she held on.

Omera herself kept an eye on passers by, cautious not to linger for too long in one place. She had a pistol clipped to her side, but it would never help her feel as safe as she did with the Mandalorian at her side.

She wanted to get some more food for the morning, hoping it would be the last meal they’d have to share on Trask. It would be good to have the Crest fully repaired somewhere else before they found the Jedi. If, in fact, Din had found his kind, that would likely be the course of action.

With a small container of fresh food in arm, Omera walked Winta back toward the inn, set on staying there until sunset, just under an hour away. But, as soon as they drew close, she noticed a ship a short ways out and the surprising sight of a figure with a jetpack soaring up toward the sky.

Recalling their plan to meet Din and the Child, Omera took Winta back to the inn in order to deposit the food.

“Mama, do you think Din found his kind?” Winta asked. She sat on the bed just behind her, kicking her legs out and swinging them back inward until they hit the base of the bed.

“We’ll have to ask when we meet him.”

Winta hummed. “What if he didn’t find anyone?”

Omera turned to her daughter and shrugged her shoulders. “I guess we’ll just have to keep looking.”

Together, they walked to the chowder place and settled in at a table in the back corner. She kept her eyes on the patrons, careful of onlookers. The last thing she wanted was for something to happen to them before the Mandalorian could return.

The door to the building slid open and she watched as Din entered. He cradled the Child in his arm and approached the table with a dominance that attracted the gaze of many of the patrons.

Finally, Omera felt as if she could breathe.

From behind him, she noticed the door open once more. This time, three others wearing blue Mandalorian armor entered. They had their helmets in their arms. Were they Mandalorian? Or were they as Cobb Vanth was - just a man in Mandalorian armor?

Din stood at the head of the table and the three others followed. One, a woman with a commanding presence, studied Omera and Winta for a thoughtful second.

“These are your people?” she asked Din.

He nodded once. “They’re traveling with me.”

Again, Omera met the woman’s eyes. Finally, a smile found her lips. “I am Bo-Katan. A Mandalorian, just as he is. We are from different clans, but we serve the same creed.”

Her head swarmed with thoughts. They were Mandalorians. Mandalorians who took their helmets off, and still professed the same creed that Din held.

She wasn’t sure what to believe, but she couldn’t help but feel a little excited by the idea that not all Mandalorians had to keep their helmets on. Maybe one day she’d get to see Din’s face after all.

Omera smiled back at Bo-Katan, trying to be polite. “I’m Omera. This is my daughter, Winta. You’re free to join us.”

And so it was that the table was filled with Mandalorians, and a child whose pram had been lost in the jaws of a mamacore.

Beside Omera sat Din, whose attentiveness to his boy seemed amplified after the attack at sea. The boy was perched up on his own chair beside him, with a bowl full of food that he sipped slowly.

“They came in time to save me and the Child,” Din explained. He gestured out toward Bo-Katan and her clan. “I should’ve been more careful. I was right. They wanted the beskar.”

Omera’s heart almost broke at his retelling. She wished she’d been there to help, but knew that if she had, something far worse might have happened.

“Thank you,” Omera said to the three new faces around the table.

Bo-Katan nodded. “He would do the same for any of us.” Pausing, she took a second to gather her thoughts. Then, she turned to Din specifically, saying, “Trask is a black market port. They’re staging weapons that have been bought and sold with the plunders of our planet.”

Bo-Katan glanced at her fellow blue-armored Mandalorians. “We’re seizing those weapons and using them to retake our homeworld. Once we’ve done that, we’ll seat a new Mand’alor on the throne.”

“That planet is cursed.” Din was clearly not all that pleased with Bo-Katan and her plans. “Anyone who goes there dies. Once the Empire knew they couldn’t control it, they made sure no one else could either.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear. Our enemies wanna separate us. But Mandalorians are stronger together.”

Din focused on the Child beside him. “That’s not part of my plan. I’ve been quested with returning this child to the Jedi.”

Bo-Katan’s brow knitted. “What do you know of the Jedi?”

“Nothing,” Din admitted. “I was hoping you would help me by creed.”

Bo-Katan was silent. She looked at the Child thoughtfully. “I can lead you to one of their kind. But first, we need your help on our mission.” Briefly, Bo-Katan glanced at Omera and Winta. “If you can spare the time.”

“What is your mission?” Omera asked, almost daring her to continue to treat her as if she wasn’t there.

The leader of the group pursed her lips. She lifted her bowl to her mouth to sip. Then, she spoke again, “We can share our plans with the Mandalorian you travel with, but it isn’t a place for you or your child.”

She felt Din stiffen beside her. “She travels with me. Treat her as my equal or I won’t help you.”

Bo-Katan’s jaw clenched, as if she didn’t want to do what he wanted her to. Like she was annoyed that she’d encountered a Mandalorian like Din. Even if she were trying to be courteous and not involve Omera due to the dangers of the mission, it felt like she had judged Omera quickly.

She nodded at each of them, looking between them as she spoke with intention, “Tomorrow morning, there is another Imperial freighter leaving Trask with the weapons I’d mentioned earlier. We get in, take the weapons that belong to us, and get out.”

Din considered Bo-Katan’s mission thoughtfully. “And if I help, you’ll give me what I need.”

Bo-Katan nodded her head once. “Should you earn it, yes.”

“We shouldn’t discuss the details here,” the other female Mandalorian said. “Let’s get eyes on it after we finish.”

Beneath the table, Din settled his hand over her leg as a gentle reminder that they were here, together. He nodded his head to the Mandalorians. “Fine. I’m in.”

Bo-Katan smiled into her bowl slightly. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

With Winta curled up in bed sound asleep, Omera sat at the foot with the Child in her arms, waiting patiently for Din to return. The boy wasn’t sleeping, but seemed content reaching for her hair and babbling incoherently to her all about the hardships of his day.

Omera couldn’t help but smile, looking down at him. She hoped he knew that he was very much part of their family, as unique as it may have been. She lowered her lips to the top of the Child’s head and gave him a gentle kiss.

“Shh,” she whispered, “I think it’s time you went to sleep, little one.”

Din had gone with the other Mandalorians to scout out their mission, a mission she hoped would finally bring Din the answer he searched for. Yet, in the same heartbeat, she almost wished he wouldn’t be able to find a Jedi at all. In such a short period of time, she had grown deeply attached to the boy in her arms.

The door before her slid open and Din entered, quiet and cautious. He paused at the sight of her and his boy, almost like he hadn’t anticipated to see them still awake.

Omera rose to her feet. “How did it go?”

“I’ll meet them in a few hours to prepare,” Din replied. He looked at the Child in her arms when they were close enough. “Today… I couldn’t protect him. I owe Bo-Katan my help after what they did.”

Omera nodded, somber. She offered the Child to him. “Here, maybe you can get him to sleep.”

The Mandalorian reached for the small boy and took him into his arms. With utmost care, he rested a hand over his belly.

“When we were on Tatooine, you sang to him.”

She smiled. “It was a song my mother taught me as a little girl. I sang it to Winta when she was a baby.”

Omera couldn’t help but think about telling him her secret then, especially with their conversation leaving the perfect opening to just say it without needing the right circumstances.

But it still wasn’t right. Telling him then would only distract him during a mission with high stakes.

Maybe, she decided, once they were back onboard the Crest, she could get him alone and say the words she so desperately needed to.

Winta was right. She would only be able to conceal her bump with strategic articles of clothing for a little while longer. And, as much as she wished things were simpler, having a child with a Mandalorian would likely never be easy.

Din sighed deeply. He shook his head. “When I almost lost him today in the water…” He stopped, choking on the last of his words. “If the Jedi take him from me to raise him, they will be right to do so. I can offer him nothing.”

Omera closed her eyes briefly. She knew the inadequacy he felt. She’d experienced it herself plenty of times as a young single mother.

She lifted her hand to touch the Mandalorian’s arm ever so gently.

“You’re his father,” Omera said. “That will never change.”

She watched the Child finally fall asleep, clinging to Din as he did so. The little boy was so small in Din’s arms and he found so much peace there. Would their child feel the same peace? Would they ever have the chance to?

Din had nearly died a few times over the course of their adventures so far. Maybe she was right to want to keep the unborn within her a secret. Why would the Mandalorian want to settle down and raise a child with her, even if it was his own?

“I’m sorry for the way Bo-Katan treated you and Winta.”

Omera shook her head. “I wasn’t offended.”

He sighed heavily. “She thinks I’m part of a cult. On Mandalore, I guess they did things differently. They… take their helmets off.”

She could tell that Bo-Katan and her clan had hit a nerve. Whatever had been said in their meeting on the boat had been enough to spark a conflict within him.

“Do you want to help them?”

“It is the Way to help other Mandalorians.”

Din stepped away from her and approached the bed. He tucked the Child in beside Winta, gently bringing the blankets up toward his chin.

When he came to Omera’s side again, he said in a soft voice, “I… didn’t realize there were Mandalorians who don’t abide by the same rules.”

Omera hummed. She didn’t expect Din to change his understanding of his creed overnight, but part of her felt hopeful that maybe one day, he might be comfortable enough to remove his helmet in front of her.

She could only imagine what he looked like beneath, but she knew it wouldn’t matter. To her, Din Djarin was the man she’d fallen in love with without needing to know what he looked like.

“Maybe being Mandalorian means more than what you wear. It’s your code that makes you Mandalorian,” Omera thought aloud. “Maybe… if you all fight for the same cause, for each other, it doesn’t matter how you appear.”

He stared at her in silence. She wasn’t sure how he felt, but knew that she hadn’t upset him. If she had, his posture would surely indicate as much.

“Do you want to try to sleep tonight? Before you meet with the others?”

He nodded silently. When they laid down side-by-side, Omera turned to face him. He stared after her, even in the darkness.

As he had the night before, he removed his glove from just one hand. With it free, he very hesitantly reached out to touch the side of her face, almost as if he wanted to ask if it was okay. Omera gave him an affirming smile.

Gently, the tips of his bare fingers brushed against her cheek, a tender caress that brought back memories of the night they’d spent together on Sorgan. So rarely had she felt so adored in her entire life.

He brushed her hair behind her ear and then soothed his knuckles with the lightest touch against her cheek.

“Goodnight.” Din spoke in a voice so quiet that she almost couldn’t hear him speak.

Her hand found his and she took it in the space between them, flat against the mattress.

“Goodnight, Din.”

He shifted until he could touch his forehead to hers. Omera closed her eyes at the feeling. It was such a simple action, but she felt a tangible wave of warmth fill her from the very top of her head to the bottoms of her feet.

She wondered if the Mandalorian felt the same.

She hoped he did.

Din didn’t sleep as much as he should have. He spent a long time watching Omera rest, her fingers having fallen away from his but her figure still turned toward him.

Beside her, the Child and Winta were curled up together. He could hear the Child’s sleep sounds, little squeaks and grunts that he always made when he dreamed, and a soft smile settled on Din’s face.

They were all safe and comfortable here: together.

Being together had been the reason for asking Omera to join him.

Now that they were together, walking this path toward a Jedi, he had to consider what was next for them.

He knew that Omera would likely wish to stay together, even if she never admitted it aloud to him. If he stayed with Omera and Winta on Sorgan, would he still be able to be Mandalorian? How would he fulfill his role as a Mandalorian there? Would he remove his armor?

Their conversation before they went to bed echoed in his mind. Was what Omera suggested true? Could he remove his armor in front of others and still be Mandalorian?

The Mandalorians who raised him would have argued that every element of their code together made a Mandalorian. The creed dictated adhering to the code as strictly as possible so that they could develop future generations to be strong.

As Din stared at Omera, sound asleep, only one thing ran through his mind over and over again: he wanted to stay by her side.

Could they be together in the future? Was that even a possibility?

Maybe it was naive, but he wanted to believe it could be.

When it was time for him to get up and meet the clan of Mandalorians, he reluctantly looked away from Omera and sat up. Quietly, he stepped around the bed, moving with determination to the door, but stopped when he caught something moving out of the corner of his vision.

Winta. She sat upright in bed, her head tilted to the side as she rubbed her right eye.

“Din?”

He glanced over at Omera. She hadn’t stirred. Neither had the Child.

Din nodded. “Go back to sleep. I’m going to meet with the other Mandalorians now.”

The young girl had a tight knit in her brow before she suddenly hopped off of the bed and with light feet, came to stand in front of him. Curious, Din studied her. Maybe she was sleepwalking.

“Will you come back?” Winta whispered. She seemed genuinely concerned about him. Probably not sleepwalking.

He sighed to himself and dropped down to one knee so that he could meet her eyes at her level.

“I’ll be back before you even realize I’m gone.”

She nodded, but something still seemed to bother her. She reached out with one hand to touch the side of his helmet, gentle and timid.

“What’s wrong?”

Winta shook her head minutely. He noticed tears in her eyes, something he absolutely hated, and she whispered, “I’m just thinking about Mama.”

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “Is she okay?”

Winta smiled softly at him, a pure reflection of Omera, and lowered her hand from his helmet. She sighed. “She told me that she loved someone and wanted to be a family with them, but… she doesn’t know if they want that too.”

His heart leapt. Immediately, his mind began to whirl in thought. Was Omera in love with him? He’d thought that she could be, but was there someone else? Maybe Winta misunderstood altogether.

Was Omera in love with him?

The thought felt loud in his mind, so loud that he could barely force himself to focus on Winta.

“Why wouldn’t someone want that with you?”

Winta shrugged one shoulder. “She said their heart has to choose. I don’t know if it will happen.”

He frowned, reaching for her hand to squeeze it when her lower lip trembled with oncoming tears.

“Hey, no. Please don’t cry.”

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just…” She sighed heavily. The weight of all of the feelings she carried within overwhelmed her so that her shoulders fell low. “I love Mama and I want her to be happy.”

He smiled. Winta had the same giving heart as her mother.

“She is. She has you.”

Winta wrapped her arms around his neck in one swift movement. He held her with one arm around her middle. Winta’s eagerness to hug him all the time reminded him of the Foundlings from the covert on Nevarro.

“Please come back.”

As if she didn’t want to overextend her welcome, she took a step away from him, her fingers still wiping at her wet cheeks. She managed to smile at him through it and squared her shoulders, putting on a brave face even if she continued to sniffle.

“Don’t worry about me, Winta,” he said. “I’ll be back by midday. You can tell your mom that we should meet at the Razor Crest then.”

Having a plan in mind seemed to calm the girl. She nodded her head. “Okay.”

Din was hesitant to leave, but he knew Bo-Katan and her clan would be waiting for him. He was running late as it was. He stood to his feet and gestured to the bed.

“Go back to sleep.”

Winta scrambled back to the bed, careful as she climbed back in beside the Child and Omera. He waited for the blankets to be up to her chin before he left the room.

When Omera awoke, Din was nowhere to be found. The sun had come up, so she decided that she would prepare the children to return to the Razor Crest.

Winta nudged Omera’s arm when she sat upright. The girl sat beside her in the bed, bright-eyed and rested.

“Din left a few hours ago.”

Her daughter cradled the Child in her arms. The boy babbled while he played with Winta’s favorite stuffed toy. Omera had given it to her as a newborn. She’d made it herself.

“He told me to tell you that we should meet him at the Razor Crest by midday.”

Omera smiled at Winta and ran her fingers through the young girl’s hair. “Then I suppose we should get something to eat and get ready to be back on our way.”

It was bittersweet having to leave the inn on Trask. While it had been a comfortable, safe place to lay their heads, Trask itself left much to be desired. It was certainly not a place she would have felt confident letting Winta off on her own.

“What do you think I can bring home from this place?” Winta asked. “I have my rock from Tatooine. What can fit in my bag from Trask?”

Omera looked over at her daughter, who now sat on the edge of the bed with the Child doing the same at her side. Meanwhile, she busied herself with making sure their bags were packed.

“We could…” Omera paused, thoughtful. “Maybe we could get you a shell from the beach.”

Winta’s eyes lit up at the idea. “Yes!”

The Child giggled when Winta bounced eagerly on the bed, careful with her hand held over his belly to keep him from falling over.

“It’s almost time to leave,” Omera told Winta, “and when we do, we’ll see what we can find.”

With both of the children and their bags ready to go, Omera held the Child on her hip while hanging on to Winta’s hand. They walked the docks cautiously and Omera kept an eye out for the Mandalorian.

Once they found a beach, Omera allowed Winta to wander, but only just a little. She pressed a palm against the Child's belly and kept her focus on her daughter as she searched for the perfect shell.

Very soon, this would be a reality in her life: Winta wandering off while she held a baby on her hip. It felt oddly natural, being a mother over two at once.

Breaking her from her thoughts was the sound of a jetpack. A familiar Mandalorian flew just overhead and landed on the beach beside them.

“You’re back!” Winta exclaimed.

She rushed toward Din with a hug already locked and loaded. She tackled him with her arms around his waist and he stumbled at the impact, laughing breathlessly.

“I said I would be.”

Winta smiled warmly up at him. “I’m just really glad you are.”

Din sighed, still catching his breath from all of the activity. He looked up at Omera. “She told me the name of the Jedi and where to find them.”

Her heart jumped and her eyes widened slightly. “That’s good. You were able to finish the mission.” Omera smiled down at the baby in her arms and stroked her thumb against his fingers that gripped hers. “You’ll be with your kind soon, little one.”

As the words fell from her lips, Omera’s heart ached. She knew it was right to bring the Child to his kind, and it was what Din’s quest required of him, but she didn’t have to like the idea.

“We should get back to the ship,” Din said, pulling her attention away from the Child. “I have a feeling the credits I spent trying to get it fixed were wasted.”

They certainly were. The ship was now covered in netting and fishing gear, all of it trying a little too hard to keep the fragile ship together.

Din sighed deeply as he sat in the pilot’s seat. “Mon Calamari.”

Omera settled in beside him, still hanging onto the Child, and Winta giddily jumped into the third chair.

“Well, based on the looks of things, we aren’t getting all the way to Corvus in this shape.” Din turned to look at her. “How would you feel if we took a trip to Nevarro? Got some friends there who might cut me a deal on the repairs.”

Omera shrugged her shoulders. She gazed down at the Child in her lap. The boy peered up at her with his big eyes and her heart clenched. They’d get the opportunity to spend just a few more days together.

“What do you think, little one? Do you want to visit Nevarro?”

The Child offered her a lopsided grin, but otherwise made no efforts at communication. She soothed her thumb against one of his fingers.

When Omera returned her focus to the Mandalorian, she nodded her head. “Extending our trip just a little wouldn’t hurt.”

Wordlessly, the Mandalorian nodded back at her. He spun around and began to prepare the ship for takeoff.

In her lap, the Child squirmed and she allowed him to move freely. He turned just enough to face her and one of his hands extended over her belly. Omera felt herself freeze in surprise. Did he know?

From within her, she felt the unborn stir. Just a soft little flutter, one barely noticeable. Taking the Child’s hand away from where he’d extended it, she fought the tears in her eyes.

The Child stared up at her, almost as if he was trying to tell her something. He did know.

Without another moment passing them by, as the Razor Crest began its climb back up into space, the Child snuggled against Omera again. She held onto him and accepted the gentle feeling of his hand settled against hers with a soft smile.

She casted a longing gaze after the Mandalorian.

She'd felt so conflicted since he came for her on Sorgan. While she wanted them to be together, and wanted to tell him about their child, she felt fear every time she considered it. She didn't want him to lose focus on what mattered the most. She wanted him to feel confident walking his path with the Child, knowing that she had his back through it all. If a future together would come of this time, she wouldn't decline it, but she worried, especially after meeting Bo-Katan, that perhaps there were even more important paths yet to come for Din.

Should she protect him from learning about the truth so that he could face those challenges freely?

When Din turned around again, he gave the Child his attention. “Well, what do you think, kid? You want to try fixing some wiring for me?”

The Child quirked his head to the side, cooing curiously.

“There’s a panel…” Din tilted his head toward where it was in the cockpit. “Pretty sure we can hot-wire a fix. You know your colors, right?”

Again, the Child made a curious noise.

Omera offered the young boy to his father, who took him into his arms and held him there. He stared at the boy with an affection that filled the very air of the cockpit.

The Child reached out for Din’s helmet and touched the armor covering his cheek. The Mandalorian chuckled softly in response. “Hey, pal.”

The ache inside of her chest tightened. Doubting his capacity for the truth was a mistake. Din deserved to know her secret. Now if only she could find the right words.

#mandomera #the mandalorian #din x omera #my writing #the edge of hope #so many scenes in this one i ADORE #GAH

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cutieodonoghue · 3 years

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the edge of hope (5/9)

Catch up here: 1, 2, 3, 4

Fifth chapter below the cut or on AO3!

The Siege

The Razor Crest felt full.

Omera and Winta provided a constant soundtrack to the otherwise relatively quiet ship, talking back and forth about any and all things. Inside Winta’s mind, there seemed to be an endless pool of questions that she could ask about literally anything at all. Her favorite one, regardless of topic, seemed to be, “Why?”

In the past, Din might have gotten annoyed. He might have sequestered himself away from all of the questions and conversation, but instead, he noticed himself becoming more invested in what Winta wondered about.

They sat in the cockpit together while they traveled. Winta liked the chairs because they were “bouncy and fun”, but Din preferred it because it kept the endlessly curious children out of trouble in the cargo hold.

The Child sat in Omera’s lap, as he had for much of the journey already toward Nevarro. While Winta asked another question, Din focused on Omera.

Something had changed. On Trask, they’d become closer, with lingering touches and heart-to-heart discussions murmured in the quiet room at the inn. Now, when he caught her looking at him, there was a feeling in the very pit of his belly that felt like fire.

Part of him wished that they could be alone, so that they could have a few minutes to talk about what would happen after they found the Jedi, but there was a special comfort in sharing time together with the children.

“Din, do you think I could go down into the cargo hold?” Winta wondered. “I think it’s time to stretch my legs.”

Din looked at the girl and nodded. “Just don’t get into anything.”

Winta grinned. She hopped up out of her chair and swiftly made her way out of the cockpit, down the ladder, and into the hold below.

Omera met his gaze. She smiled a little at him. “I’m sorry for the endless questions. Winta’s at an age of wanting to learn about everything she can.”

“It’s okay. We have time to kill.”

She hummed and looked down at the Child in her lap. She took his fingers when he extended them outward to her. Then, looking back up at Din, she asked, “Are you hungry? I can make us something to eat.”

“You don’t have to do that. I can-”

Both of them stood at the same time, practically standing on top of each other. Omera laughed, peering up at him with softness in her gaze.

Din’s heart skipped a beat. He swallowed.

“Uh… I can go make sure Winta doesn’t get into my weapons… if you...”

She nodded minutely. “Okay.”

They continued to stand there, toe-to-toe, unwilling to move. He heard the Child make a noise, but didn’t look at him when Omera did.

“Do you want to help me?” she asked the boy. “When Winta was a baby, I had a piece of fabric I used to swaddle her against me so that I could work.”

Suddenly, he couldn’t get the vision out of his head. Omera and a baby Winta.

“I have something you can use.”

Omera smiled and her eyes brightened. “That’s right. You do. I saw it on Tatooine.”

Din nodded. “I’ll go get it. Wait here.”

Swiftly, he made his way out of the cockpit and dropped down to the hold below. Instantly, he saw Winta sitting on the floor with an opened crate, plucking things out and examining them with twisted lips and a curious lifted brow.

“What’s this?” she asked him.

It seemed she’d found his crate of useless odds and ends. Some of it was junk given to him along his travels. Some of it once had a purpose.

Winta held in her hands a glowrod. She flipped it on, the light nearly blinding her. In surprise, she shut it off again.

“It’s a flashlight. You use it when it’s dark.”

She tilted her head as she studied it. “Cool.”

He smiled a little as he went to snag the fabric he used as a sling for the Child. As he stepped back toward the ladder, he said, “Careful. There’s some sharp stuff in there.”

“I’m being careful.”

He sighed softly. “Just making sure.”

With practice, he quickly scaled the ladder and returned to the cockpit. Omera still stood with the Child in her arms, scrunching up her nose as she made faces at him. At Din’s arrival, she turned and grinned at him.

“Did you find it?”

He held out the fabric for her to take.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this.” Omera thoughtfully pulled the fabric away from him.

She carefully wrapped the Child within it before she slipped it on over her head and allowed it to hang over one shoulder, then tied off the excess fabric at her side.

“There we go.” She lifted a hand to the Child’s back and faced Din. “What do you think?”

There were a few things that came to mind right away. A few things that he might be embarrassed to admit thinking about, like the vision he had of Omera with a baby in her wrap that wasn’t the Child or Winta.

“Looks… good.”

Omera laughed at the awkwardness of his answer. She stepped closer to him. “We’ll go make something to eat.”

“The galley is…”

“I’m well acquainted.” Omera teased. Before he could feel stupid for trying to give her directions, she pushed up onto her toes and kissed the cheek of his helmet. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

She shook her head. “You’ve made the journey so far very easy. As hard as it’s been. I just wish… maybe we could spend more time together alone.”

He nodded in agreement. “Not a lot of room to be alone on the Crest.”

“Not with the kids.” Omera smiled. She reached up and soothed one of the Child’s ears between two fingers. “Maybe we’ll have the chance soon.”

His heart skipped a beat even at the thought of spending time alone with her. Maybe then he could ask her about the secret he knew she was keeping from him. Maybe then he could tell her that he wanted them to stay together when this journey was finished.

“I would like that.”

Omera laughed gently and bit down on her lip, lifting her eyebrows. “The last time we were alone…”

Din laughed with her. “Yeah.”

They stared at one another for a beat. The Child cooed, reminding each of them of the task at hand.

“I should go. I doubt it will take very long.”

Din tilted his head toward the door. “Go ahead. I’ll keep an eye on Winta.”

Omera smiled at that, lingering for a second like she had something else she wanted to say, but she turned away instead. With Omera in the galley, Din dropped down below once more to see what Winta was up to.

She still sat on the floor, but now more pieces of junk were on the ground at her side as she analyzed each one thoughtfully. He folded his arms to his chest as he slowly approached her.

Winta didn’t look up right away, but when she did, she smiled. “I haven’t hurt myself. I’m being careful.”

“What are you doing with all of that?”

She looked at the junk on the ground. “I’m trying to make a game.”

“A game?”

Winta bobbed her head and went back to searching the crate at her side. “I’m looking for more flat things first.”

Din watched her cautiously, but refused to sit. He didn’t want her to hurt herself by accident.

Over the course of their journey together, he and Winta had become almost friends, if it were possible. He was constantly unsure of how to treat her, but she didn’t seem to care. She knew exactly how to treat him: with kindness, just like her mother did.

After a few minutes of analysis, accompanied by a song hummed beneath her breath, Winta looked up at him again.

“Din, what are these?” She held out in her palm a pair of dice.

He tilted his head. “You’ve never seen dice before?”

Winta shook her head innocently. She looked at the dice in her palm. “What do you do with them?”

Din shrugged. “They’re used in games. Sometimes people bet credits on them.”

The girl considered his words. “Why?”

He opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted when Omera landed on the lower level with the meal she’d prepared in her arm.

“Anyone hungry?”

The Child, from his perch in the fabric wrapped around her, cooed, and Winta bounced up onto her feet. Quickly, she went to help Omera, abandoning the open crate and the trinkets on the floor.

“What did you make?” Winta asked.

“It’s just broth. Not very many ingredients to get creative.” Omera smiled at her daughter. “But it will fill us up.”

Once the broth was ladled out between all four bowls, Din took the Child to sit opposite Winta and Omera. The bowl was warm in his hands and smelled appetizing, but he wouldn’t drink it yet. He’d wait for them to return to the cockpit before indulging his hunger.

Sitting like they were, gathered together for a meal, he couldn’t help thinking about the future again. It was a comforting thought to have that they might get to share many more meals together.

“What have you been doing down here?” Omera asked. She looked down at the floor, where Winta had discarded the game she’d made.

“I was playing a game.” Winta smiled. “Din told me about dice.” She held the pair of dice up for Omera to see. “He said people bet credits on them sometimes.”

Omera hummed in confirmation. “We don’t gamble in our village. It might be fun if you had nothing better to do, but I’ve never been brave enough.” She gestured for Winta’s bowl. “Drink up. Din can’t eat if we keep talking so much.”

Winta sipped her broth just briefly. Her eyes twinkled. “I can’t wait until we get home. I’ll have so many stories to tell my friends. Like about the dragon on Tatooine, or the Frog Lady…”

“I’m sure your friends will love to hear all about our adventures.” Omera smiled fondly. “But-”

“But I need to drink my broth first.” Winta sighed. “I know…”

Omera laughed while the girl smiled into her bowl of broth. Beside Din, the Child giggled. He wasn’t sure if it was because Omera and Winta were laughing, or if it was because he found what Winta said to be funny.

“Din, do you have any stories about your adventures?” Winta asked, cocking her head to the side.

He couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s ferocious appetite for conversation. “Erm… I don’t know…”

“Aww...” Winta pouted. “But you have to have good stories to tell. That’s the number one rule for being a dad.”

Omera just about choked on her broth, her eyes growing wide. “Winta.”

Winta shrugged her shoulders playfully. “What will he tell the Child when he’s older?”

Sighing softly, Omera shook her head. “I’m sure when the Child is older, Din will have plenty of stories.”

For a moment, mother and daughter stared at one another. Winta quirked an eyebrow and bit down on her lower lip. Omera glared back at her, skilled at keeping the girl’s mouth shut with just one look.

“Mama has something to tell you,” Winta blurted out. She giggled and turned to Din. Her eyes were bright with a secret untold.

Din cocked his head to the side as his stomach flipped in surprise. He knew she did. But hearing Winta say so surprised him.

“She does?”

Winta bobbed her head. She hopped up onto her feet and rushed away, fleeing the scene and Omera’s mildly frustrated glare in lieu of going back up to the cockpit.

Din looked down at his bowl of broth, then at the Child, who hadn’t touched his broth either.

With a wry smirk, Din finally looked at Omera. “Do you really have something to tell me, or was Winta just saying so to get out of having to drink her broth?”

Omera laughed through her nose. She hesitated for a moment with her thoughts, her smile softening substantially, then nodded.

“I do have something to tell you, but I don’t think right now is the best time.”

His eyes narrowed. Was she talking about the secret he’d seen hiding in her eyes? Or something different? Did it have something to do with what Winta had been crying about the other night?

“When would be the best time?”

She took a deep breath and sighed heavily. “I don’t know.”

Din nodded. “We should be arriving to Nevarro soon. Once we get everything squared away with the ship, maybe we can ask someone to watch the kids. We could spend some time alone. Maybe… you could tell me then?”

Omera didn’t respond right away, clearly made nervous by the idea, but smiled at him anyway.

“Okay.”

With a frown, Din lamented how unsure she seemed. Was it about him? Maybe she was sick, or dying. Maybe she had moved on with someone else, and being here with him on the Crest was her way of trying to close out their chapter in her life. Maybe it was simpler than that: maybe she did love him.

The thoughts were enough to drive him up a wall, so he stuffed them away.

Omera stood and left without another word, leaving him with the Child and a full bowl of broth.

Turning to the boy, he lifted his bowl upwards. The Child echoed the movement.

Curious, he tilted his helmet up slightly, just enough to eat, and swallowed a sip of the broth. The Child did the same, peering up at him with those big eyes of his.

Din laughed through his nose. Seemed like the kid just wanted to play with him. He didn’t mind. As long as he wasn’t fully exposing his face, he still kept his creed.

A deep fondness for the Child washed over him as he lowered the bowl away, having just enjoyed another taste of the broth. The kid’s ears quirked and he stared back at him: curious, happy.

A forbidden thought entered his mind not for the first time since starting on this journey. Maybe it would be best for the Child to stay with him. Maybe they would be a clan of two and he could raise him in the Way. Maybe he didn’t have to become a Jedi.

Sorrow followed the thought, dampening the way his heart soared with warmth at the companionship he shared with the small boy.

He was his father, and he always would be. That would have to be enough.

When the Razor Crest landed on the planet of Nevarro, it was with some difficulty. The ship had been patched together, but only just, and it struggled to make the landing as smooth as it had in the past.

The ramp they used to step off of the ship and down onto the planet’s surface deployed only halfway. Winta giggled when the ramp wouldn’t lower any further. Omera held her hand, following after Din and the Child.

“It’s really broken, Mama.”

Omera smiled. “I don’t think the Mandalorian would appreciate you laughing about his ship being broken.”

Din glanced over his shoulder at them. “I can hear every word you’re saying.”

Winta winced and recoiled, curling into Omera just slightly. “Sorry!”

Omera couldn’t help but laugh when Din gave a responding chuckle. She squeezed on her daughter's hand.

“He’s teasing us, my love.”

Winta relaxed instantly with a relieved sigh.

Just ahead of them on the ground stood one familiar face and an unfamiliar one. It was a surprise to see Cara Dune, the former shock trooper, with her tattoos and tough exterior, who had helped liberate their village from the raiders.

They’d spent a fair amount of time together on Sorgan, over cups of spotchka in the evenings and stories exchanged about their lives long ago.

The man standing beside Cara spoke to Din, “Looks like someone could use some repairs.”

Din got to the edge of the fully outward extended ramp and dropped down on it to slide off. Once on the ground, he stood waiting for them to reach him.

Winta went first, jumping into Din’s open arms with Omera’s help. He grunted at the brunt of her weight, a little dramatically so that Winta would laugh again, and Omera waited to take his hand on her way down.

His hands were warm and strong, two things she’d come to define Din as, and she thanked him with a smile once she stood on flat earth.

Finally on the ground, the party of four approached the duo that Din appeared to be friendly with. He approached the man and offered him a handshake.

“How’s my credit around here?”

The man, whose beard was a white-gray, shrugged, glancing over at Cara. “I think something could be arranged. Isn’t that right, Marshal?”

“I’m sure we can work somethin’ out.” Cara looked from Din to Omera and Winta. A smile spread on her face quickly.

“I’ll get my best people on it.” The man turned to a couple of repairmen working nearby. “Hey, fellas! Let’s fix this man’s ship! I want it as good as new.”

Looking at them again, the man finally seemed to take notice of Omera and Winta.

“Where are my manners? Greef Karga. Magistrate of Nevarro. And this is-”

“We’ve met,” Cara cut him off. “On Sorgan. Couple of months back. It’s good to see you again, Omera. Winta, too.”

“Sorgan,” Greef repeated, lifting an eyebrow in surprise. “How’d you end up on the Razor Crest with the Mandalorian?”

Omera glanced up at Din, trying to decide how much to share. She wasn’t sure what he’d told his friends about her, or about what he was on a mission to do.

“She’s helping me on my path to find a Jedi,” Din explained.

“Ah.” Greef nodded. “And how is the little one?” He stepped toward Din and pulled the Child from his arms as if they were old friends. He chuckled when the Child grinned at the man. “Has Mando been taking good care of you, huh?”

The Child babbled and Greef beamed from ear-to-ear. “Yeah? Yeah! He said ‘yeah!’ Oh, yeah.”

Omera held back laughter at the sight of the man, who had once seemed somewhat intimidating, having turned himself into a grandfather-figure for the boy.

Din walked on ahead with Winta bouncing and bubbly at his side, following the Magistrate to an undiscussed location. The Mandalorian and Winta had very quickly become close. Omera was glad that her daughter had taken a liking to Din, but part of her worried that if things between she and Din didn’t end favorably, Winta might be just as hurt as Omera would be.

Things wouldn’t end poorly, though. She had faith they would make this work. If she could just be bold enough to tell him about the baby, they could decide what their next steps would be from there.

Staying behind the rest of the group, Omera lingered back with Cara.

“It’s been a while. How are you?”

Cara smiled at her, lifting a teasing brow. “I could ask you the same thing. You and Mando… what’s going on there? Somehow I doubt you’re actually just traveling buddies.”

Omera felt her cheeks get hot. She laughed under her breath, embarrassed, and shook her head as she gazed after Din. He held onto Winta’s hand as he chatted with her, gesturing outward to the town’s landscape.

She felt content with the fact that they were traveling together just because they wanted to. It hadn’t been a mistake to join Din on this journey. In fact, they’d grown closer because of it.

If nothing else would come of this journey, she and Winta would have plenty of stories of adventure to tell for years to come.

“He came to Sorgan and asked if we would come with him. I agreed.” She met Cara’s gaze. “I thought Winta would like the adventure, and she has. So far.”

Cara eyed her briefly, a smirk resting on her lips. For a second, Omera wondered if Cara had figured the whole thing out without needing a second glance.

“And does he know about your pregnancy?”

Her eyes widened in surprise and she felt herself reach to cover her middle, as if it would do her any good at all. “How did you-?”

“Relax,” Cara kept her voice low, “it’s not exactly obvious, but… you’re glowing. You have a little bump. You’re traveling with that hunk of a man. I took a chance.” She paused. “He doesn’t know?”

Omera shook her head. “If he did, I don’t think we would be here.”

Cara hummed thoughtfully. She looked on ahead, at the Mandalorian’s figure. “Look at him. He’s got the whole dad thing down already.”

“You assume it’s his,” Omera retorted, quirking an eyebrow in defense.

Her companion shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah, well, the timeline adds up. I saw the way you were together on Sorgan. I get it. Tough to picture him taking any of that off, but… hey, I won’t judge.”

Omera rolled her eyes, her cheeks now fully inflamed. She watched the Mandalorian with her daughter. Winta giggled at something Din must have said and swung his hand back and forth.

“I need to tell him. I just haven’t found the right moment.”

“Trust me, Omera. Just tell him. Doesn’t matter when, or how. He’ll find his way through. Might shock him, but he won’t have a complete meltdown. Not who he is.”

Nodding, Omera smiled in thanks. “I haven’t had anyone to talk to about this other than Winta, so… thank you. It’s nice to hear another perspective.”

“No problem.” Cara offered her a grin. “Congratulations. I’m sure you’re excited.”

Omera’s heart lifted. It felt so good to share her news with someone- a friend- who genuinely cared. It was different with Winta. Winta was eager to be a big sister, and could have cared less about nuances.

“I am.” She felt herself grinning wider. “I keep thinking it’s a dream… I never thought I’d have a second.”

“And with Mando, no less. How’s that part of this going?”

Omera laughed and gave her head a shake. “We’ve hardly had any time together on our own. I almost wish we’d have the chance to leave the children somewhere safe for a little while so we could have a few minutes without worrying about them.”

Din turned, looking over his shoulder. He seemed to be begging for her help with Winta without needing to say or do a thing. Omera nodded at him in understanding.

“We should probably catch up with them before they think we’re up to something.”

When Omera and Cara caught up with the rest of the group, it was just in time for them to slow to a stop in front of a sealed door. Greef punched a code into the keypad. He still held the Child, whose ears were floppy as he tilted his head.

“I’m surprised to see this place is still standing,” Din said. “Are we sure we should be bringing the children into a bar?”

Greef shook his head. “Just wait till you see inside.”

Stepping in from the heat of the dry Nevarro desert, Omera’s eyes briefly needed to adjust to the lighting indoors. Soon, she realized that it was a school.

A protocol droid stood at the head of the class while rows of young children occupied desks, listening as best they could to the lesson.

Omera couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Growing up, she’d been taught in schools just like this. Her heart yearned for Winta to be allowed to sit in a classroom and learn, even if she did love her school back home in the village.

“A school?” Din kept his voice low.

“Things have changed a lot around here,” Cara replied coolly.

“We’ll leave the young ones here so we can talk business,” Greef said, nodding toward Winta at Din’s side.

The Magistrate still held the Child in his hands, so he needed only to walk away, into the classroom with him in order to have his way.

It made Omera a little wary that they’d leave the children in a school to talk business. Would there be any chance for she and Din to share time together at all?

Winta looked at Omera, silently asking what she should do.

Omera nodded back at her. “Stay. Try to learn something new.”

Her daughter smiled and followed after Greef.

“Wait.” Din tried to stop the Magistrate. There was worry in his voice unmistakable, “Wherever I go, he goes.”

“Mando, please. Where we’re going, you don’t wanna take a child. Trust me.”

Greef placed the Child into Winta’s arms at the only empty desk in the classroom. Winta settled in easily, smiling over at the children around her while she swung her feet just above the floor.

“They’ll both be fine here,” Cara said, addressing both Din and Omera. “You have my word.”

Din sighed, relenting to whatever it was that his friends wanted from him. As they walked out of the school and back into the sun, he said, “Winta, keep an eye on him.”

Winta bobbed her head and waved at them, content with the chance to sit and learn for a little while. Omera waved back, smiling at her daughter with excitement.

She walked alongside Din as Cara and Greef guided them along to a nearby building, away from the school.

The Mandalorian gave out a sigh, one only audible to Omera. Very gently, she reached for his hand at his side, giving it a squeeze before she released him.

He snapped his focus onto her like she’d surprised him.

“He’ll be okay.”

Din sighed again. He tilted his head toward Greef, who remained within earshot. “I’m not worried about the kid.”

They were led into a building off of the main road of the Nevarro town, an unspoken plan for the Mandalorian guiding the pair’s deliberate actions. Whatever it was that Greef Karga wanted, she had the feeling that Din would now have no reason to decline.

The office was small, with a pair of desks that were covered in equipment. Against the back wall, there were lockers and crates.

“I believe you two have met.” The Magistrate gestured to a Mythrol sitting at a desk in front of the door with eyes set on Din.

Almost instantly at the sight of the Mandalorian, the Mythrol expelled a blue mist from his head that settled like grains of sand on everything around him.

“I’m surprised to see you here.” Din settled his hands over his belt in a way Omera thought was meant to be intimidating.

“Right back at ya.”

“Mythrol here’s taken care of my books since he was a pollywog,” Greef Karga explained. “But then he disappeared one day after a bit of ‘creative accounting.’”

“Magistrate Karga was generous enough to let me work off my debt.”

“Well, if he runs off on you again, let me know.” The Mandalorian sounded more than willing to round this particular individual up over and over again.

“Can we talk business?” Cara interrupted, walking over to a desk on the opposing wall.

Din shook his head in confusion. He glimpsed over at Omera. “We’re only here for repairs.”

“Which’ll take a while,” Greef said. “Means you’ll have free time on your hands, right? And we could really use your help.”

Cara glanced between Omera and Din. “Both of you.”

“Help how?” the Mandalorian asked on their behalf.

Cara flipped a switch, powering on a holo map of the planet. “This is Nevarro. We’re here. This entire area’s a green zone. Completely safe." The map revealed a red area, far enough from the green zone to not interfere with day-to-day life. "But over on this side is the problem.”

“It’s an old Imperial base,” Greef supplied.

“It’s where all those troops came from when we defeated Moff Gideon,” Cara added.

It occurred to Omera then that Moff Gideon must have been part of the fight that Din had encountered on Nevarro. He’d said he’d almost died at the hands of stormtroopers on this very planet. She wondered how it felt for him to be back again.

“This base has been here since the Imperial expansion,” Cara continued. “It’s got a skeleton crew, but for some reason, it hasn’t been abandoned.”

“There’s a lot o’ heavy weaponry in that place the black market would love to dismantle and get their hands on.”

“And you wanna mop up the last of the Imperial force before they do,” Din finished for his companions.

“Mando, I just want them off my planet,” Greef said, sounding a little irritated. “If we could take out that one last base, Nevarro would be completely safe. We could be a trade anchor for the entire sector.”

“And the planet would finally be free,” Cara added with a hint of optimism.

Cara seemed to have straightened out her priorities since the last time they saw one another. Last Omera knew, she was fighting for pay in a bar on Sorgan.

For just a few seconds as he contemplated the problem his friends faced, Din looked at Omera.

“What do you think?”

Omera met Cara’s eyes from across the desk. They exchanged knowing smiles. “What’s our plan?”

The journey to the Imperial base was made in the Mythrol’s landspeeder. Din sat at her side behind Cara and Greef, and for the most part, they all kept to themselves.

She knew it was a bit reckless to go into a potentially dangerous situation like this one, but from what they’d said, the base had been mostly abandoned. With four of them armed and capable, it should be a breeze to get the job done.

There was something exciting about the idea that she was on an adventure with the Mandalorian, not having to worry about the children. She knew they worked well together. This would be another opportunity to see just how well they complemented each other.

As the Imperial base loomed closer, Omera felt Din’s fingers over her knee. Her attention turned to him and she smiled softly as she enclosed her hand over his.

She knew that he would only need a word from her to know that the situation was uncomfortable. He would take her into his arms and bring her to safety if she asked.

“Alright. Door coming up,” Cara announced. “Let’s just get in and get this done.”

Once the landspeeder slowed to a stop at the door, they all climbed out. Cara took the lead to the controls that would open the door. She groaned almost instantly.

“They’re melted. Imperial trash.”

“Probably not rated for lava,” Greef remarked, shaking his head. “I think there’s a flange cutter in the landspeeder. We could try using that.”

“Hold tight.” Din’s focus was on a landing platform just above. He took off with his jetpack and they heard the sounds of gunfire before a stormtrooper fell to the ground in front of them.

Omera looked up as the door beeped and slid open. On the landing, Din stood, waving at her. She laughed softly to herself and waved back at him.

“Well, that solved it,” Cara muttered under her breath. She gestured for Omera to follow.

Soon, they were all in a turbolift going up, coming to a stop on the same level Din had flown up to. Omera gripped her gun a little tighter when she realized he hadn’t just had to take out one stormtrooper, but three.

“Empty base, huh?” Din asked, his voice a little tight.

They now stood on what appeared to be a landing pad for Imperial craft that led into their base. A few vehicles and crates sat covered and waiting, but there were no enemies remaining.

“The reactor should be set in the heat shaft,” Greef explained. “If we drain the cooling lines, this whole base will go up in a matter of minutes.”

Cara paused to look at one of the vehicles, half covered in a tarp, parked at the edge of the landing pad.

“A Trexler Marauder. Might come in handy if we need to make a quick getaway.”

“It’s gonna get vaporized like the rest of this base,” Din said. He tipped his head toward the nearby entrance to the base. “Let’s go.”

They were careful, standing in pairs on each side of the blast door that led into the base. When it opened, there were no enemies standing by. They hadn’t been alerted of their arrival. It was a good sign. Maybe this would be a simple task after all.

The command room was one of the first they encountered, where one Imperial officer sat manning a security station. Cara took the lead, moving quietly toward the Imperial from behind as he tried to communicate with the shuttle bay.

Swiftly, Cara took out the officer with just one arm around his neck, dragging his unconscious body to the floor with a thud. After her, the Mandalorian went to search the security station while Greef leaned in over the body. He pulled something off of him and held it up.

“A code cylinder. This will be useful getting us into that heat shaft.”

Omera noticed Din shutting off the security camera feeds to buy their intrepid team some time as they made their way through the base to blow it up.

Turning to them, Din said, “I found the heat shaft. Let’s go.”

All of them kept their guns drawn and their eyes and ears open as they followed Din’s lead through the corridors of the Imperial base.

They encountered a pair of stormtroopers crossing a parallel hallway on their way to answer a call, but remained undetected when they ducked back behind the wall beyond the opening that otherwise would have revealed their crew.

“So much for getting some time alone,” Din told Omera quietly.

She lifted a shoulder. “I don’t know. I kind of like this.”

As a unit, they snuck through the opening that led to the parallel corridor and toward a locked door that laid just beyond.

They were able to enter via the code cylinder plucked off of the security officer, and once they stepped past one final door, there was the heat shaft. Beneath grated flooring, hot, smoldering lava sat fiery and untamed at the bottom.

Omera turned to Greef once she spotted the reactor controls. They were built into a tower with a thin walkway that wrapped around it.

“I’ll drain the cooling lines. Give me the cylinder.”

Greef didn’t argue, rather seeming impressed instead as he settled the tool into her hand.

She used caution to maneuver around the walkway. The space was tight. Her belly flipped with anxiety when she glanced down at the lava below, but she grit her teeth and made it work on behalf of the team.

“Mando, where did you find this one?” Greef asked. The trio standing by the door kept watch, and Din was the most careful, standing in the doorway with his gun at the ready. “Not only is she beautiful, but she’s absolutely fearless.”

“She’s spoken for, too, so why don’t you keep the compliments to yourself?” Cara asked, clearly teasing everyone in the lava chamber. “Isn’t that right, Mando?”

Din made a noise, something between an annoyed sigh and a scoff, completely non-committal in the face of everything his friends teased him about.

Omera inserted the code cylinder then and focused her attention on getting the cooling lines drained.

“Well, if you’re not interested...” Greef jabbed.

“You should’ve seen him on Sorgan. I’m pretty sure he is.”

Greef clicked his tongue against his cheek and laughed. “Oh, does Mando have a crush?”

“I’d say so,” Cara replied. “Look at him. He’s so defensive.”

“I’m not defensive…”

Even though they were still on guard, both of his friends chuckled at the awkward nature of his voice.

Omera glanced at them briefly, unable to help from smiling just a little. The Mandalorian’s attention was on the hallway ahead of him, clearly trying to avoid the conversation.

As quickly as she could, she finished her task at the console and removed the cylinder. She made her way back to the group on the landing and nodded at them.

“I’ll let you know if the Mandalorian decides to seal the deal, but for now… the base is set to explode, so we need to get out of here.”

Greef Karga laughed once. “Cool under pressure, too. Kriff, Mando. You better lock it in.”

Din shot Greef a deeply annoyed glare noticeable even without seeing his eyes.

Omera rejoined them in the entrance to the shaft and they took off, rushing toward the main corridor once more to try and find their way out in under ten minutes.

An alarm blared as the base alerted the Imperials of its impending destruction, and when they found an opening to take, Din peered around it, slowing with his fist in the air to get the rest of them to stop.

She could hear stormtroopers. It seemed they were on the lookout for trespassers. Her belly flipped anxiously. Time was limited and she very much wanted to get off of the base in one piece.

Din turned around, gesturing instead to the hall behind them. Omera nodded and followed his lead. When they rounded a corner, they discovered two Imperials standing behind a console.

The men drew guns when they noticed their arrival, seeming flustered, shooting both at them and at the console itself.

Omera acted quickly, firing her weapon with the rest of the group. She shot at the Imperial to the left and he keeled over instantly. Din shot at the Imperial to the right and he suffered a similar fate.

“Okay, now you’re both just rubbing it in,” Karga joked lightly.

Omera smirked in Din’s direction, proud to have been of some help, but his focus had already turned to the wall ahead of the officers, to a series of figures in cylindrical tubes full of liquid.

“I thought you said this was a forward operating base,” Cara said to Greef.

“I thought it was.” Greef’s tone had shifted significantly.

Worry settled over the group and Omera took a step toward the console, gentle to remove the body of a fallen Imperial so she could see what they had been working on. Much of the console had been destroyed in the gunfire, but she was able to bypass some of the damage.

“No, this isn’t a military operation,” Cara said thoughtfully. “This is a lab.”

Omera uncovered a transmission, the last to be sent from the terminal, and switched it on. The holo of an unfamiliar man in white appeared on the top of the console.

“Unfortunately, we have exhausted our initial supply of blood. The Child is small, and I was only able to harvest a limited amount without killing him.”

Omera met Din’s gaze. These were the ones who had been searching for the Child, and it seemed they had done something to him.

“If these experiments are to continue as requested, we would again require access to the donor. I will not disappoint you again, Moff Gideon.”

There was that name again. Gideon. Omera knew nothing of him, but nothing but dread filled her hearing his name.

“This must be an old transmission.” Din shook his head in denial. “Moff Gideon is dead.”

“No.” Omera frowned worriedly. “This recording is three days old.”

“If Gideon’s alive then…”

Suddenly, the sound of enemy stormtrooper footsteps came to the open door they’d entered from. A few stormtroopers with guns pointed in on them gathered and Omera sprung to action with the rest of her companions.

Swiftly, they brought them down, but Omera knew there were more in the waiting. They really needed to get out before the base blew up.

“I need to get the kid.” Din’s voice was laden with worry.

If Moff Gideon was after the Child, any lingering stay would put a greater target on him. That much she could understand.

Omera’s heart ached. They’d barely been able to find the location of a Jedi. Now, the Mandalorian would have to stave off the Empire while he tried to deliver the Child to one of his kind.

“Jet back,” Cara told Din. “You’re faster that way. We’ll head to the speeder and meet you in town.”

Din hesitated, turning his attention to Omera.

She smiled and nodded at him. She didn’t want him to worry about her. “I’ll be fine. Just go get the kids.”

Even still, the Mandalorian stared at her silently. It was like he was frozen, wanting to keep her safe while also knowing he needed to be there for his son.

Omera put one hand against his helmet and gave him a firm nod. “It’s okay. Go. We’ll make it.”

“Come on!” Karga called out from behind. “Let’s go!”

With one final nod to each other, she and Din took off in opposite directions.

Soon, Omera found herself in a gunfight with several stormtroopers on the landing dock. Hiding behind a couple of crates, she, Cara, and Greef fired back at the troopers, but the main concern was getting the hell off of the base in time to escape the explosion.

Omera caught Cara looking over at the Trexler Marauder she’d noticed before. Omera nodded at her. “Go get it. We’ll cover you.”

Focused solely on the task at hand, Omera heard Karga beside her chuckle. “I'm glad Mando wanted to bring you along.”

“We’re not out of this yet.” Omera glanced over her shoulder when the Marauder pulled in beside them, the door open. “Get in. I’ll keep cover.”

She shot at a stormtrooper, knocking him onto his back, and carefully maneuvered herself into the vehicle. As soon as she was inside, she closed the door and climbed into the seat beside Cara while Greef lingered back.

“Go, now.”

Cara had her sight set on a door directly ahead, wide open and just big enough to fit them through, but just as soon as they reached the entrance, it sealed shut.

On a growl, Cara reversed the craft, swinging them around again. Omera couldn’t help but get dizzy, her stomach lurching as a wave of nausea found her.

Before she could ask Cara what she was doing, they were sent careening off the side of the landing pad. They all screamed for their lives until they crashed directly on top of the Mythrol’s landspeeder, crushing it entirely.

The Marauder bounced violently, jolting each passenger as it settled on the ground.

“Sorry about that, Omera,” Cara apologized, shifting the Marauder into gear.

Omera shook her head. “I’m just glad we’re off of the base.”

They were off, quickly putting distance between them and the base, as the Imperials sent waves of speeder bikes after them.

“Man the guns, Karga,” Cara called over her shoulder.

“Already on it.”

Omera’s eyes were wide as she watched out the windows, trying her hardest to see what danger might lie ahead.

The blast of the cannon attached to the vessel deployed as Greef set his sights on the enemy at their back.

“One down.”

She heard two bikes on them, both coming alongside them on each side of the vessel. The Imperial at Cara’s immediate right fired in on them. Without ceremony, Cara slammed the Marauder into the canyon wall, crushing the enemy in a fiery explosion.

“There’s one more,” Omera warned. She listened out, realizing that he must’ve climbed on top of them. “Spin around. He’s on top of us.”

Doing as he was told, Greef pivoted and instantly blasted the enemy. He laughed. “Whoo! Now that’s some good tactical work.”

Moments later, from far beyond, the entire base exploded, a blast so loud that it was unmistakable. They all laughed in celebration. They’d accomplished their goal and escaped with their lives.

Omera smiled wide at Cara. “We did it.”

Cara nodded her head. Looking briefly over her shoulder at Greef, she said, “Headed home, boss.”

The Marauder picked up speed as a few tie fighters began flying overhead, firing on them in an attempt to pick them off from the sky where they would be less equipped to fight back.

Omera’s heart dropped. They were officially outgunned.

When Din landed in town, his mind felt clouded.

Moff Gideon hadn’t died. Moff Gideon was alive and would be after the kid. It was only a matter of time before they found him again.

On top of his fears for the Child, he found himself even more fearful for Omera. He’d left her with two capable fighters, and she was quite capable herself, but they hadn’t exactly gone into a friendly fight. He’d seen what the Imperials could do.

There was really only one choice: he needed to get the kids, get back to the Crest, and do what he could to help. He just really hoped she would make it out of that base in time.

He entered the school through the side door. The instant the seal opened, he saw Winta and the Child right where he’d left them.

“Winta.”

She turned, her eyes bright. “Is it time to go?”

Din nodded his head. He came up to the children and took the Child into his arms. Winta had accumulated a few things while he’d been away. A packet of cookies and a flat piece of metal scrap sat on her desk.

“Come on. Gotta hurry, kid.”

Winta understood. She gathered everything as quickly as she could. As he led the girl out of the school, he heard her say, “Bye!”

“Bye Winta!”

Apparently, Winta had made fast friends of the kids in the school. Once they were outside, he took her by the hand and guided her toward the Razor Crest.

“Where’s Mama?”

Din wasn’t sure how to answer Winta’s question. He kept his focus on getting them to the ship.

“She’s fine. We just… got into a little trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” Winta sounded nervous.

“Don’t worry about it. We’re gonna help. Okay? When we get on the Crest, both of you need to buckle in while I start flight prep.”

“Okay.”

Luckily, Winta had no further questions for him as they approached the ship. He wasn’t sure how much had been repaired while they’d been away, but at the very least, the ramp was extended fully.

Once he had the kids in the cockpit, Din let his next biggest concern overwhelm him: Omera.

“You guys strapped in?” he asked without looking over his shoulder.

“Yep!”

“Might get a little scary. Don’t know what to expect. Just trust me. It’s gonna be okay.”

They took off and he brought the Razor Crest around, going toward the base. In the distance, he could see smoke, which meant they’d succeeded in blowing the base. But, he also saw three TIE fighters on the tail of a speeding Trexler Marauder.

Cara, Greef, and Omera must’ve used it to get off of the base.

The fighters fired on the Marauder. It was three to one, and it seemed the Marauder had lost its guns.

Din clenched his teeth. Omera was on board that vehicle. He knew she was.

They hadn’t had the time they needed to be alone. He knew she wanted to tell him something, but he now desperately realized that he needed to tell her something as well: that he wanted them to stay together.

He wouldn’t get the opportunity to do anything if the fighters were able to fire upon the Marauder much more.

As soon as the Crest was close enough, he fired upon one of the fighters. It exploded with a satisfying cloud of flame and smoke. There were just two left now.

“Hang on back there.”

He brought the Crest higher and with the increase in altitude, he heard both the Child and Winta giggling excitedly.

He fired on the fighter ahead of him. Another down. One left.

Turning around to face off against the final TIE, Winta and the Child both laughed, full-bellied. Din smiled to himself with a small shake of his head.

The fighter was far enough away that he engaged the engines, then rolled the ship as they dove toward it.

Behind him, Winta screamed with surprise and delight. “Whoa!”

“You okay?”

“Yeah!”

He set his sights on the final fighter as it fired at them. Took the shot. It exploded. It was almost child's play.

Finally, he felt as if he could breathe again. Omera would be alright. Greef and Cara had got what they wanted. Turning to check on the kids, he looked first at the Child.

“Not too bad, huh, kid?”

The Child, who gripped one of the blue cookies he must've procured in class, spit up over the front of his clothes.

“Eww!” Winta giggled.

“Oh, boy.” Din reached back to dab at the throw up with his cape, careful as he brought the Crest back toward town.

“Where’s Mama, Din?”

He glanced over his shoulder at Winta. “We’ll go get her now.”

Safe on the ground outside of town, Omera waited alongside Cara and Greef while the Razor Crest made its descent back to the ground again.

Watching him fight off the fighters with his ship had been nothing short of impressive, and she had the feeling that the children must’ve had the time of their lives just being along for the ride.

The ship seemed to have been repaired well enough to perform above average, so instinct said that Din would want to be off and on their way as quickly as they could, especially knowing that Moff Gideon was still alive, hunting for the Child.

“Omera,” Greef said her name with a smile, “you are welcome back to Nevarro anytime. Mando is lucky to have you.”

She couldn’t help but blush, laughing as she shook his extended hand. “Thank you.”

Pausing, she turned at the sound of the ramp of the Crest lowering. The Mandalorian climbed down alone.

“That was some pretty impressive flying, Mando. What do I owe ya?”

Din joined them where they stood gathered together at the base of the Crest. Almost naturally drawn in close, he found her side.

“With the repairs, let’s call it even.”

Greef looked between them. “Can I at least buy you a drink? Perhaps you could stay the night at my finest inn, in one of my finest suites.”

“Sorry. I have some onboard maintenance I gotta take care of.” Din gestured up toward the interior of the ship with his head. “Then we gotta hit the road before Gideon catches wise.”

“Well, it was good to see you again, old friend.” Greef presented Din a hand to shake. He took it, gripping his forearm.

Omera took a moment to give Cara a smile. The Marshal of Nevarro smirked back at her. “You kicked some serious ass today, Omera. Could use some help rounding up mercs around here.”

She nodded, her gaze going to Din again. “Maybe once his mission is seen through, we’ll come back.”

Cara bowed her head, pleased with her reaction. “Good luck. Stay safe out there.”

“You too.”

The Mandalorian turned away from Greef, looking at her instead. “You ready to go?”

Omera smiled at him. “Yes.”

They climbed up into the Razor Crest together, and once they stood in the privacy of the cargo hold with the ramp sealed shut, Omera was surprised by the feeling of his hand on her wrist, turning her towards him.

Instantly, he lowered the crown of his head to hers. A feeling of warmth spread within her and she smiled. Settling her fingers over his helmet, she listened to the sound of his breathing.

The intensity of the embrace reminded her of the night on Sorgan, a desperation in the way they touched like it could be the last chance they’d have.

“You okay?” Omera asked quietly.

“Just… glad you are,” Din replied. “Could’ve lost you out there.”

She shook her head, still pressed to Din’s. “We had it handled. You did the right thing, going back for him.”

When he finally pulled away, his hand slid down her wrist to meet her fingers. It was so natural that it almost felt like they’d always held hands like this.

It was so natural that it almost felt like they’d always been together like this.

“After we find the Jedi, we should talk about settling down somewhere safe.”

Omera’s heart jumped and she narrowed her eyes slightly as a smile spread across her face. She was cautious to feel joy at the words he’d spoken, too nervous that it would be taken from her.

“You want to stay together?”

Din nodded. “We never had the chance to be alone today, and I wanted to talk to you about it then.” He paused for a moment. “I don’t really have any idea how this is supposed to work, but I know I don’t want to go back to the way things were before. Do you…?”

She laughed, breathless, and wrapped her arms around his neck, causing him to stumble slightly as he settled his arms around her middle.

“Yes. Of course I want us to stay together.”

Omera pulled away slightly, enough to press her forehead into his, and shut her eyes as tightly as she could. Breathing in deeply, she had only one thing on her mind: telling him the secret that had plagued her for months now.

“Din, I was going to tell you something.”

Her fingers found his chest and she took a step away from him, his hands lingering on her lower back. He studied her, silent, and she wished for the strength she needed.

“What is it?” He sounded a little nervous.

Omera stared at him, her chest heaving for breath as tears found her eyes. It was overwhelming to think that this secret, this private thing she’d held onto for so long, would finally be shared with the one who her heart trusted the most.

She shook her head, smiling to keep him from worrying. “I…”

“Mama!” Winta’s voice interrupted, breaking them apart. “We did flips and the Child threw up and it was so fun!”

She smiled at her daughter, kneeling so that she could wrap her arms around her tightly in a warm embrace. “How was school?”

“Good.” Winta bobbed her head. She pulled away from the hug. “I learned about some new planets and I made friends. The teacher said I did a good job.”

Omera smiled, pleased that she’d had at least a little fun while she could. “I’m glad you had a good time in school.”

Suddenly, Winta hurried off, going to the little cubby where Din told them he usually slept while on long space journeys. The girl plucked up a piece of flat metal and brought it to Omera. She held it up, pointing to a series of figures she’d etched into the scrap.

“I made all of us.” Winta beamed. “Din, the Child, you, and me!”

Omera couldn’t help but smile back at the effort she’d put in crafting the picture of the four of them, all standing in a line holding hands.

“It’s beautiful, my love.”

Winta smiled kindly and peered up at Din. “I made it for you, Din.”

Din knelt beside Omera to look at the obscure artwork. He chuckled. “I love it. Thank you, Winta.”

“Maybe one day… I can add more to it.” Winta teased with a little shrug.

Omera shot her a dry look, silently insisting that she keep her mouth shut about their new addition. It had been a close call before as they shared broth. A second attempt was just asking for trouble.

“What kinds of things would you add?” Din asked, genuinely curious.

“Maybe… a baby?”

Din scoffed. He stood, taking the picture with him. “Do you even know where babies come from?”

Omera slowly rose to her own feet and watched Din carefully.

“Yes,” Winta said, trying to sound like she did. “They come from mothers.”

The Mandalorian huffed. “Babies need fathers, too. Human ones, at least.”

Winta hummed thoughtfully. She made direct, purposeful eye contact with Omera, as if trying to figure out right then and there how Omera had been given the child that grew within her.

“Mama, is that true?”

Winta knew this already. Of course she did. Children in the village had fathers. She herself had a father, one she’d been told about time and again in stories spoken in whispers at bedtime. She even knew that her unborn sibling had a father.

This was just her daughter trying to get an answer out of her that she wasn’t going to give her just yet. Once Din knew about the baby, Omera would feel right enough to tell Winta. Until then, the father of her child would remain private.

“Yes, Winta. It’s true.”

It was getting harder to keep this a secret, wasn’t it? She’d almost been able to tell him, but now with Winta in the room it seemed she would never have the opportunity to tell him in the way he needed to hear it.

Din put Winta’s picture in the little sleeping nook again. Turning around, he cocked his head to the side.

“If this is about wondering where the Child comes from… I don’t have any idea.”

Winta met Omera’s eyes. She smirked at her as if she were ready to say something incriminating.

“Go get strapped in, please. We’re getting ready to leave.” Omera said before her daughter could manage to spoil this for everyone.

Winta bobbed her head and spun on her heel, moving swiftly up to the cockpit. Omera waited for the door to seal before she turned her attention to Din.

Swallowing at the lump that had formed in the back of her throat, Omera closed the space between her and Din slowly.

“We should go. To Corvus.”

Din nodded in agreement. “Did you have something you wanted to tell me?”

Omera took a deep breath. Yes. But it wasn’t the time. Not anymore. “I’ll tell you when we find the Jedi. We need to keep moving. You said it yourself… Gideon’s still out there. I don’t know what he did, but I have to believe he means harm to your boy after what we saw on the transmission.”

He hesitated for a second. “Omera… if Gideon is still after the kid, I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe with me. He’s the reason I almost died on Nevarro.”

Omera’s heart plunged into her belly. She knew there was a reason she didn’t feel right about Gideon. If he had been nearly strong enough to take out the Mandalorian, he was capable of a lot worse.

She frowned. “Do you think he knows where you are?”

“There’s no way of knowing. He could have eyes anywhere.” He sighed. “What do you want to do?”

Omera tilted her head, considering him. It would be so easy to walk away now, but after everything they’d seen and been through together, she wanted to see it through to the end. She could handle herself and protect their children, should the fight come to them.

“We’ve come this far,” she replied. “I think it would be a shame to walk away before the end of your mission.”

The Mandalorian nodded. “Corvus is under the radar enough. We should be fine if we keep moving.”

Omera put her hand on his arm when he tried to step past her toward the ladder up to the cockpit.

Their gazes locked. She felt her stomach flip.

“What I have to tell you isn’t bad.”

Din gently touched her hand on his arm. “Tell me when you’re ready.”

How had she gotten so lucky to find him? He was so patient with her that it almost felt unfair. What she needed to tell him was something so impatient. There was very little time left for her to tell him without difficult consequences.

“Din…”

He nodded his head at her. “We have time. Right?”

Her heart leapt. They’d decided to stay together.

It was already a bad idea in retrospect. She shouldn’t have allowed him to suggest it, not without all of the information he needed to make that decision. It was nice to think they could stay together, but if he didn’t want to raise the baby with her, that would change things.

Omera nodded back at him. “Right.”

The Mandalorian stepped past her to go up to the cockpit, leaving her down below with the weight of a dozen boulders on her shoulders. She sighed heavily and lowered a hand to cover her middle.

“Omera?” Din called from up above.

She turned around. “Yes?”

“The kid, uh... got a little messy. Think you can grab a wet cloth for me?”

Omera smiled to herself. She stepped toward the privy just behind the ladder and found a cloth she could wet in the sink. “Of course.”

When she climbed up to join the rest of the crew in the cockpit, she found Din crouched on the ground in front of the chair where the Child sat, his clothes covered in blue spit up.

“Uh oh…” Omera teased. She knelt on the floor beside Din. “Did you have too much fun today?”

“He had a snack.” Din held a package of blue cookies in his hand.

Omera hummed. She reached up with the cloth to wipe at the fabric of the Child’s shirt. She’d dealt with this many times with Winta as a baby. Soon, she’d have to do it all over again with a new baby.

"He got them with his special powers,” Winta shared. “They went ziiiip right into his hand.”

Omera glanced over at her daughter, then looked at the boy. He seemed so innocent, canting his head to the side while she rubbed his shirt clean. “Well, I think he enjoyed them.”

“A little too much,” Din agreed.

Both she and Winta laughed. Finally finished cleaning up the mess, Omera lowered the cloth into her lap.

“There we go.” She smiled. “All clean.”

Looking over at Din, she found his attention on her already. “Thanks.”

“No problem at all.”

It was then, sitting on the floor of the cockpit with the Mandalorian and his boy, that she made up her mind. For better or worse, whether she had the words or not, she would tell Din her secret as soon as they found the Jedi.

#mandomera #din x omera #the mandalorian #my writing #the edge of hope #happy sw day y'all!!!#<3333 #cuties being cute in this chapter i cri

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