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tiffdawg · 3 years

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The Light of Stars | Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

Gif: @bestintheparsec

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: M | Warnings: the typical angst and a little smooching, mild language. No spoilers for season two!

Story Summary: In pursuit of the Child’s people, the mysterious Jedi, Din Djarin and his foundling find hope in a woman who shares the kid’s strange powers. Newly partnered with the Mandalorian, you are trained in the ways of the Force, but you’re no Jedi. You’re just trying to find your place in the galaxy.

A/N: Hi! It's been a while – much longer than I ever intended and for that I apologize. I want to say thank you to you all for reading my story and sticking with me. And to everyone who left comments on previous chapters, you have all my love for ever. I really do cherish each and everyone. You all inspire me to keep writing! Anyway, I'll stop rambling and let you read the latest installment of Jetii, Din, and Baby's (mis)adventures. This chapter is officially the beginning of the end!

Read on AO3

TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Eleven: Disillusionment

The last few days were a blur as you cut across the galaxy at lightspeed. Time ceased to exist even as it passed you by, but it was uneventful in the best possible way as you spent what precious time you had left with the Mandalorian and his foundling quietly existing together.

You passed most of your time in the main cabin conversing with Mando. You always talked about your pasts. Never the future. But you considered yourself lucky to have that time with him. He spoke mostly of his youth with the Mandalorians and his early forays into bounty hunting, but occasionally he’d grace you with a story from his childhood. When he’d confessed that he hadn’t so much as said his parents' names aloud in decades but still found it within himself to share a treasured memory of them, you’d reached across the small space separating you to twine your fingers with his gloved ones as best you could. The words seemed to come a little easier after that. His life had been so full of sadness that you wondered if the last few weeks together had been an anomaly even with the chaos you’d brought into his life.

Down in the hull after tasteless meals of reconstituted food, you’d spent long hours reading texts from the Jedi holocron aloud to Mando while he disassembled, cleaned, and reassembled every blaster in his weapons locker twice-over. Other times he insisted on continuing your flying lessons but there wasn’t much to do as the ship sailed through hyperspace. During the infrequent fuel stops on lonely planets, you’d stretch your legs and find a quiet place to practice with the kid in consolation for long days spent trapped inside the ship.

That day, you’d landed on Mygeeto, a cold, frigid planet a few sectors from your final destination. Mando and the kid seemed unfazed by the icy winds, but you’d had to dig out your old parka just to walk to the closet cantina while the ship refueled. It was also a decently populated planet, big on mining and banking and a hub of trade. You were on the outskirts of a smaller spaceport, but it wasn’t somewhere you wanted to linger.

The docking bay was crowded with a steady rush of people coming and going earlier that morning. Now, when you stepped into the small, outdated docking bay ahead of the Mandalorian but behind the Child’s hovering carrier, it was deserted. Instantly, your eyes went to the fueling gear still hooked up to the Razor Crest. A quick glance around the bay told you the lone mechanic was nowhere to be seen. Most likely off working on one of the other starships. That meant the three of you were stuck on that icy, crystalline planet for at least a little while longer.

That meant trouble.

“Mando–”

“I know,” he sighed. “I made them back at the cantina. They aren’t with the guild, but they’re definitely hunters.”

“Were you just hoping they wouldn’t follow us back to the ship?”

“I wanted to get you two back to the Crest.” He entered a code on his vambrace and canceled the ship’s security protocols. After the ramp lowered, he closed the baby’s carrier and sent it into the hull of the ship.

“There are six of them,” you said, raising a brow at him, “and they’re right behind us.”

“Not a problem, sweetheart.” He placed a hand on the blaster holstered at his hip.

“Gods, you're cocky sometimes,” you retorted. Still, you extracted your lightsaber from your satchel before tossing the bag into the ship. It pained you to think that neither the baby nor Mando would be safe until that ex-Imp was taken care of for good. And even then, you worried about who else might know about the baby. You could only wish that wasn’t fated to be their only existence together. With his visor trained on you, his helmet tilted to the side. You shrugged as you took your place beside him.

“Don’t think I can handle it on my own?”

“I know you could, but you don’t have to,” you assured him. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eyes and found him watching you.

“I–”

Whatever he was going to say next was cut off by a noise coming from just beyond the entrance. Both of your heads snapped in that direction, alert and ready for a fight.

When the first blaster shot rang out, Mando returned it with one of his own.

“How many of them are there?” you shouted over the blast that rocked the Razor Crest. You’d mistakenly assumed you’d escaped after you’d fended off the six bounty hunters at the docking bay. The gunship fired back at Mando’s command.

“Down to two,” he answered as he hit a series of switches in rapid fire. He pulled the yoke and the ship took a nosedive through empty space. “Told you that spaceport was too big.”

“You didn’t say that.”

“I thought it.

Another hit set off one of the alarms. “Mando!”

“We’re almost to the hyperlane. Once we hit lightspeed, they can’t track us. Just hold on!”

You sighed in relief at the familiar streaks of blue light of hyperspace. Mando’s seat swiveled to face you and the Child. “You alright?” he asked the kid. He chirped happily in response. “I figured.” He turned to you, elbows resting on his knees as he leaned forward in his chair. “How about you?”

“I’m fine,” you assured him. You might’ve been a little rattled, but you’d seen worse. “We’re those the Moff’s men? How’d they track us to Mygeeto?”

“They didn’t.” A beat passed as you waited for him to explain. “They were already here. They’re amateurs. Gideon probably distributed fobs throughout the galaxy.”

While you’d gotten a decent glimpse of it on Vrogas Vas, you were beginning to see the severity of his situation. The Empire might’ve fallen years ago, but this former Imp had not. He had the resources and the reach to find the Mandalorian and the Child. And you didn’t like the thought of him taking on the Moff alone. “Mando, can you do something for me?”

“Anything,” he responded quickly.

You hesitated, doubting he would think that in a moment. “Will you send a holo to your tribe before you leave for Nevarro.” He straightened up at that, ready to protest. “You’re going to need all of the help you can get.”

“I can’t ask them to put the covert at risk for me. Not again.”

“So you know they would come for you?”

“Yes,” he answered, voice straining around the word.

“Do you think they hold what happened against you? Do you truly believe that any one of them regrets their choice?” He didn’t say anything, but you knew your assumption was right. And you knew his guilt was misplaced. They wouldn’t have welcomed him back, called him their brother, if that was the case. “You have to forgive yourself, Mando.” You unbuckled your safety restraints and kneeled before him. With a hand on the either curved cheek of his helmet, you forced him to look at you. You leveled him with a serious look, but he was unflinching, as still as ever. “Do you want to know what I think?”

“What?”

“They’re Mandalorians. They would want to fight with you. For you. How do you not see that?”

Wrapping his hands around your wrists, he pulled your hands away from his helmet. “I can’t do that for you.”

“Can’t or won’t?” you snapped before you stood and left the cabin.

… . …

Drawing his eyes away from the streaks of light bending around the Razor Crest, Din found you still in your seat next to him and the Child carefully cradled to your chest. With matching expressions – eyes closed and lips slightly parted – you both slept peacefully. Din had half a mind to wake you and send you both to your room. Even that makeshift bunk had to be more comfortable than the contorted position you’d maneuvered yourself into in your chair. But as the baby moved in your grasp to snuggle further into you, tiny clawed hands gripping the front of your tunic even as he drooled on it, he hesitated to disturb the scene before him.

Somehow, in the span of a few weeks, Din’s entire universe had narrowed to the two of you. His foundling, of course, was already his primary focus in life. And then you showed up and without even meaning to, the three of you had become a family.

Din had a family.

The realization struck him hard and fast, but quickly faded into something familiar. Something some part of him already knew because of course you were his family.

A soft smile pulled at the corner of Din’s mouth as the two of you dozed, bathed in blue starlight, until he realized that he wasn’t the only one who was going to miss you. The kid had grown fond of you, to say the absolute least. When he wasn’t toddling after Din or causing trouble, he was attached to your hip. But your days together were numbered.

He didn’t have time to dwell on that reality. He was suddenly pulled from deep within his own mind by the quiet beep of an incoming holo. With the flick of a single switch, Greef Karga’s figure, in miniature and cast in static blue light, appeared on the console.

Karga’s booming voice filled the silent cabin. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days, Mando.”

“I’ve been out of range.”

“While I’m sure your new quest has taken you to the furthest reaches of this galaxy, there are more pressing matters at hand here on Nevarro. Would you care to tell me why Moff Gideon, the man you supposedly killed, is amassing stormtroopers outside my city?” he asked pointedly. “Word is he’s looking for you.”

“I’m aware,” Din sighed. “I’ll be there in a few days. I have something I need to take care of first.”

“Something or someone?” Karga mused lowly with a deep chuckle. Din followed his line of sight. Next to him, you’d woken and leaned forward in your seat just enough for the holocam to pick up your image. You watched the guild leader with interest. “Who might this stunning creature be?”

“End of the week,” Din said curtly before switching off the holo.

“Who was that?” you asked. You spoke softly, mindful of the baby in your hold. Your tired gaze lingered on the spot where Karga’s figure stood a moment ago before drifting to Din.

“No one.”

“Right,” you said with a gentle roll of your eyes. “I heard you mention Nevarro.”

“He’s an old associate.”

“A friend?” you supplied, brows lifting with the question.

“Sometimes.”

“Well, I imagine that means something coming from you.” There was a glint of humor in your eyes but faded into something more serious as you leveled him with a stern look. “Are you sure we shouldn’t go there first?” you asked, not for the first time. “You know I’m good in a fight.”

A small huff of a laugh escaped him. You could hold your own, of that he had no doubt. And the thought of having you with him for a few extra days was nothing short of tempting. Still, something told him that was how things were meant to happen. That was the original deal the two of you struck up, after all, and the course was already set. The Crest was less than a day out from the Lah’mu sector. It would be easier on his own heart to stick to it. Surprisingly, your argument from the day before had faded into the background. He’d come to expect more of a fight from you, but you’d rejoined him in the cockpit that morning as if nothing had happened.

He decided it was best not to prompt another argument. He stood and held out a hand to you. “It’s been a long day. You should go to bed.”

You placed your hand in his and let him pull you to your feet before you gently handed the still-sleeping baby to him. “You should too.”

The kid didn’t so much as stir as Din placed him in his makeshift hammock above his cot. He started to remove his armor, stowing the Beskar for a few hours of much needed reprieve. Lost deep in his own tired mind, he didn’t hear you emerge from the ship’s small refresher.

“What’s that?”

“What?”

“That.” He glanced over his shoulder at you just in time to see you gesturing toward the compartment.

“Exactly what it looks like.” That time he heard you move closer to him as you peered around his form.

“You’ve been sleeping here?” you asked incredulously. “I thought there was another bunkroom.”

“No,” Din answered flatly. He couldn’t see why that was an issue – especially at the late hour but the scowl on your face as you moved between him and the compartment told him that you expected a better explanation. “Technically there aren’t any bunkrooms on the Crest. Yours was extra carbonite storage for backlog. I converted it recently because the kid kept trying to crawl in here with me and there’s not exactly enough space for two. I wasn’t taking on any quarries so I figured it would work temporarily.”

“And you gave it to me?”

“Yes.”

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s nothing,” he said, hoping to brush it off.

“Mando,” you sighed, sounding stuck somewhere between exasperation and gratitude. You pursed your lips as you looked back at the cot. “This the sorriest excuse for a bed I’ve ever seen. I’m not letting you sleep here.”

“Where would you have me sleep?” he asked, not bothering to hide the amusement in his voice.

“In your bed,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. You could be so stubborn when you wanted. Almost as stubborn as him.

“And you?” he asked.

“I’ll be there too.” There was a hint of a mischievous smile playing on your lips.

“Last time–”

Your voice dropped to a whisper, but it was enough to make him forget the rest of his sentence. “I miss having you in my bed.”

A chill shot down his spine and settled low inside him as he watched you scale the ladder that led to your room and left him to follow. Just before you disappeared, you threw a playful insult back at him. “Di’kut.”

His chest deflated as a deep sigh fell from his lips. “Let me guess who taught you that,” he called after you, rolling his eyes at your receding figure. He sealed the small compartment and followed you up.

“You had your chance to teach me nice things in Mando’a,” you retorted. “Now I can insult you seven ways to Scarif!”

“Great,” he muttered with a light laugh.

“To be fair,” you offered when he finally walked into your small bunkroom, “Paz called me an idiot too.”

Din froze at the threshold as a cold fear rushed over him. “He told you his name?” he hissed.

“Yeah.” You said it almost lightly, but Din heard the slight edge undercutting your words. He knew you understood the significance of the act. He could see it in the way you teased your bottom lip between your teeth. “I didn’t ask. He just told me. He said it was okay,” you tried to clarify. “It’s not like I expect you–”

“Do you want to know?” he replied quickly despite not knowing if he was prepared to give it if you said yes. While there were a few select people who knew his name now, he had never shared it with anyone himself. If Vizsla could share his name with someone outside the covert, then so could he. Right?

“Of course I do. I want to know all of you,” you started slowly. You stepped closer to him, gently resting your hands on his last piece of armor. Your eyes followed the path of your fingers as you traced the mended edge of his cuirass. “But I only want what pieces of yourself you want to share with me. I would never ask.”

“I know you wouldn’t. You never ask for anything.”

“I asked you to come to bed with me,” you teased, trying to divert the conversation.

“No. You told me.” You smiled almost shyly and made to move away, but Din reached for your hands and held you in place. “Ask me for something. I’ll give it to you.” You eyed him for a long moment as you considered his request. He could see the thoughts racing in your mind. “Ask me for anything,” he repeated.

“Anything?”

“Yes.”

“I want you to promise me something.”

“A promise?” His brows furrowed behind the visor.

“Do you remember our last conversation that morning at the covert? Because I haven’t forgotten it.” Neither had Din. He nodded once and you squeezed his hands. “No matter what answers we find on Lah’mu, no matter where your journey takes you and your son next, no matter how many years or decades it’s been since we parted,” you took a deep breath as your voice wavered, “I want you to promise me that you will pursue a life that makes you happy. The both of you. Whatever that may be.”

Din had no response to that. He’d given you permission to ask him for anything and for some godsforsaken reason you asked for his happiness. He was struck, hardly for the first time, by just how much good there was in you. That you could possibly care about him that way even amidst your own turmoil. He would’ve preferred you ask him to call his tribe members for help. “Sweetheart–” he tried to admonish.

“Promise me, you stubborn Mandalorian,” you demanded with a new fire in your eyes. “You said you would give me anything. That’s what I want. If I can’t— If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy.” When he didn’t say anything, you pleaded. “Please, Mando.”

Lifting a hand to the back of your head, he drew you closer to him and gently pressed his helmet to your forehead, kissing you in the only way he could in that moment. “I promise,” Din swore even though that didn’t change the fact that there was only one way he ended up happy.

“Thank you,” you sighed as if he’d given you something you needed. Without parting, your fingers dipped beneath the edge of his cuirass. “May I?” He nodded against you and you pulled just enough to deactivate the magnetic hold. Others had tried to take his armor off in the past, usually by force, but with you it felt like a barrier. Something keeping him from what he really wanted.

As Din laid in the too-small bunk with you, your words echoed in his mind. If I can’t be there with you, I at least want to know in my heart that wherever you are, you are happy. With every quiet moment that passed, each one somehow longer than the next, he seemed to move closer to you, and you to him, until you met somewhere in the middle. His forehead knocked against yours again and as your breath ghosted across his face, he fought his overwhelming desire to kiss you. Really kiss you. To show you just how much your care for him affected him. But he remembered what happened the last time you’d tried something like that. It ended with you crying into his chest as he held you through the long night.

He asked anyway. “Can I kiss you?” he rasped.

“I thought you just did, Mandalorian,” you teased.

He rolled you over onto your back, caging you in as he leaned on his elbows to hover above you. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he rasped.

Before you could offer some smart retort, he slotted his mouth over yours. Despite his eagerness, he felt clumsy and unpracticed. Considering he’d never kissed anyone before you, he absolutely was. You were the only one he’d ever wanted like this. Based on the breathy little noises you made for him, you didn’t seem to mind his inexperience.

He pressed the weight of his body into yours, pinning you beneath him, until there was no space between you. You were molded to him and him to you in a way that felt natural. It felt right. He was growing accustomed to it even as he knew he shouldn’t. But those moments with you, unmasked and exposed, were too enticing.

Din never said he was a good man.

… . …

In the light of an early morning, you ran through an open field surrounded by a forest of tall evergreens. Soft wild grass cushioned each stride as you sprinted toward the tree line, chasing the fresh, spicy scent. Behind you, someone pursued you at full speed.

No. That wasn’t right.

You glanced over your shoulder only to find not one but two young children sprinting after you, squealing and smiling. Your heart practically burst at the sight of their unbridled joy and a laugh of your own bubbled past your lips. You slowed your pace, giving in to them easily, and two sets of arms wrapped around your legs. You knelt in the dewy grass, rewarding them with snug hugs and kisses on their chubby cheeks, and earning yourself another jubilant round of laughter from them both.

Together, they begged you to chase them next, and unable to deny them anything, you readily agreed. You stood, shooing them off to get a head start. But they wouldn’t run away just yet. Not when they were too distracted by something behind you. Another pair of arms, only much stronger, wrapped around you.

The kids ran off, shouting catch us, dad! A low rumble reverberated through your back as the man behind you laughed at the children’s wild antics. Your eyes fell closed as you leaned into him, deciding you’d follow the children in a moment. Right then all you wanted was to savor his embrace. It felt like the closest thing to home you’d ever known.

You turned your head as if to look over your shoulder and a pair of lips met yours. Even after the kiss ended, you didn’t part. The feel of his smile hovering against your lips was almost as intoxicating as his kiss.

“Good morning, Din,” you sighed.

You startled awake with a sharp inhale.

Disoriented and scared, you tried to make sense of what you’d just seen. That dream felt real. Too real. Considering the turn your life had taken in the past few weeks, you had no idea what it was. A remnant of your vision. An offering from the Force. Or just your imagination playing tricks on you. It seems like the closer you get to Lah’mu, the more the Force saw fit to taunt you with that other future.

Your eyes searched the pitch-black room for some sort of sign as to where you were, but you couldn’t see anything. Instead, you felt an arm around your waist, holding you securely.

Mando’s arm.

You were still on the Razor Crest, tucked away in your shared bunk that was too small for the both of you, and he was fast asleep behind you, warm and solid. You felt him shift behind you, lifting his head from his pillow to look down at you in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely. Even in sleep that man missed nothing. Mando’s hold on you tightened, pulling you back against his chest.

“Yeah,” you assured him. “Just a dream.”

“Another nightmare?”

“No. Not quite. Just...” You screwed your eyes shut and tried to banish the lingering images, or rather sensations, of that other man from your mind. Mando’s voice cut through your daze as he called your name, drawing you back into the present. “Just strange. It almost felt like another vision.”

“Of your future on Lah’mu?”

“I don’t think so.”

Din shifted closer. “Your other future?”

“Yes,” you offered meekly.

“What do you dream of? With him?” The question hurt and you said nothing for a long time. The more time you spent with Mando and the baby, the more certain you were that you’d made the right choice. A life on Lah’mu as a lonely Jedi master was more appealing than a future with a stranger you could never love. Not when your heart belonged to the man lying next to you. Seeing him amongst his people had only reinforced your conclusion that Mando was not the man in your vision. It was not the way. His way. But you supposed that didn’t matter and you were only making yourself upset for no reason by reminding yourself of the fact. You’d chosen your path. “You can tell me,” he prompted again.

You shook your head and craned your neck to face him even though he couldn’t see you. You were so close your noses brushed, but he made no move to part. “No, I don’t think I can.”

A tension hung between you as you waited for his response. “The offer stands,” he finally replied.

“And I appreciate that.” But all you really wanted was to put that dream out of your mind and forget about it entirely. The man next to you provided the perfect distraction.

You closed that last bit of space between you, letting your mouths meet in a slow, lingering kiss. His soft, slightly chapped lips matched with yours with aching tenderness. Just like that, with him, you felt safe from all the uncertainties your future held. You decided you could indulge in it just a little while longer. Continue what he’d started the night before.

“Good morning, Mando,” you sighed around a lazy smile when you finally parted.

“Good morning, cyar’ika.”

He sounded happier, and your grin pulled taut and you turned in his arms. Holding his face with your hands, your lips melded with his again. He didn’t start at your touch anymore. He sought it out. With a hand gripping your hip, he pressed you closer.

“I could stay right here,” you murmured your confession against his lips in between hungry kisses, “forever.”

“Fuck, so could I,” he admitted. You slipped your tongue into his mouth as his lips parted around his words, earning a broken, desperate moan from him.

He let you roll him into his back, and you moved so that you were on top of him, a knee pressing into the thin mattress on either side of him. Your hungry mouths slotted together once more.

You longed to feel his skin against yours again and as his hands slid lower, you thought he was going to free you from your tunic. But then his hands traveled further, past the hemline, over your hips and just kept going until he squeezed the swell of your backside, fingers digging into your fabric covered flesh, and ground your hips down against him. Against something hard.

“Oh fuck,” you gasped into his mouth. He chuckled darkly against your cheek as he did it again. That had no right to feel that good. You’d had your suspicions, but knowing he wanted you like that was a whole new thrill. “Eager this morning?” you asked as you searched for breath.

“You started it,” he said low and teasing while nipping at your bottom lip.

“Let me kiss you while I can.” He stilled his movements beneath you. You’d meant it as a joke, but it hurt. You pulled away and rested your head against his chest, letting out a long, slow exhalation as that all-consuming melancholy that seeped into the stolen moment. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“It’s fine,” he ground out. It wasn’t fine. You could hear it in his voice. Even as he moved you off of him with the gentlest touch, you felt the distance growing between you once more. He slipped out of the bunk and you listened to him search for his helmet in the dark, but you sensed him hesitate and he turned back to you, cupping your face between his hands and pressing his lips to yours. There was something about this kiss that felt different. There was a desperate sort of passion that sends adrenaline coursing through your veins. You return it with equal fervor, pouring all your love for him into that kiss.

“What was that for?” you asked when he finally parted from you.

“I never know.”

“Know what?”

When he spoke next, his voice came to you filtered through the modulator. “I never know when it will be our last.”

The truth of his words tore through you, leaving you feeling cold as you packed your things and emptied the converted bunkroom of all traces of you.

After descending the Razor Crest’s ramp, your boots hit the soft grass first, sinking slightly into the black soil that covered the planet. A cool, misty air kissed your skin as you stepped away from the safety of the ship. Your eyes scanned the green valley, landing on the small settlement that dotted the landscape.

You felt Mando approach. He stopped a half step behind you, but his presence felt heavy, almost overwhelming, as you tried to focus. Still, you knew he’d wait for your call.

“She’s here,” you announced quietly, voice barely audible over the crashing waves. You peered back at him over your shoulder, finding his dark visor already trained on you. His helmet tilted slightly. Your heart swelled with affection at the familiar, inquisitive movement. You were well beyond chastising yourself for the sentiment, even if it hurt. “And I think she’s close.” You tore your eyes away from him, ignoring the way the words seemed to get stuck in your throat. Finding your former master had been your goal for years. Now, for the first time in nearly a decade, the two of you were on the same planet. Yet you felt no joy at that momentous fact.

You felt a steady hand rest between your shoulder blades. “I’m right behind you, cyar’ika. Lead the way.”

After a few hours of trekking along the base of the rolling hills at the direction of one talkative settler, you found a lone woman meditating in a grassy field. She faced away from you, but the lavender hair styled in a low chignon and dark flowing robes told you exactly who she was.

“Wait here,” you directed without ever taking your eyes off of her. A familiar hand wrapped around yours, stalling you. “It’ll be okay, Mando, but you have to let go.”

You took another step forward and your hand slipped out of his. When you stopped a few paces away, you hesitated. Even after all the years you’d spent searching for your former master, you never figured out what you wanted to say.

Before you could so much as open your mouth, a flash of violet light cut across your vision. Reacting on instinct, you reached for your lightsaber, blocking the attack at the last moment.

Falling back a step, you grounded yourself before meeting her next strike. A clash of blue and purple plasma sputtered before you. Over the cross of your sabers, you saw her calculating amber eyes flick to the side as she lifted a hand. Daring a glance back, you saw Mando frozen in place, blaster drawn and ready to fire.

The force behind your next attack sent Zarichi reeling.

“You hurt them,” you said through gritted teeth in between parries, “and I’ll strike you down where you stand.”

“You don’t have it in you,” she scoffed.

“You don’t know what I’m capable of.”

“I taught you everything.” Her next drive, three strong blows you narrowly managed to counter, landed you flat on your back with her saber at your neck. The slightest move would’ve singed your skin. “And you’re out of practice, padawan.”

Before she could so much disengage her lightsaber, she was thrown across the field by some unseen force. You watched her tumble to the ground in a heap before snapping your head to the kid. He stood next to his father, hand outstretched and eyes closed. “Damn,” you breathed.

Zarichi stood and dusted herself off, eyes locked on the baby at Mando’s side. “How curious,” she assed, with a hint of a laugh. Without another word, she set off back toward the settlement. Sighing, you fell back against the grass.

With the baby clutched to his chest and a hand on his hip, Mando appeared above you. “That’s your master?” He didn’t sound amused.

“What’d you expect?” you asked with a shrug. “She’s a Jedi.”

... . ...

Thank you for reading!

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @cryptkeepersoul @honeyand-roses

The Light of Stars Tags: @roxypeanut @mrsparknuts @evidenceofzoe @holographic-carmen @wickedfrsgrl @buckysalefty @justabeautiful-letdown

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #fic: the light of stars

221 notes · View notes

heymacy · 3 years

Note

Have you heard No Love in LA by Palaye Royale? That’s what’s your upcoming fic immediately made me thing of!

the way this song is literally on the TLO playlist 😭👏🏼 or will be, anyway. eventually 😂 it’s in the masterlist and i have plans to put it in the soundtrack 🎶

however i will say - there is love in LA, it just takes a second for a ✨certain someone✨ to find it 👀

#👀🍿 honest to god idiots to lovers #answered #notherenj-mowherenj #tlo asks

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b0n-chann · 4 years

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I can’t believe I JUST connected the dots and realized you wrote to love and protect 💗 I read that story ages ago and loved it so, so much! Now I need to go scour the rest of your masterlist 💕

Omg 😭😭😭 thank you sooo much! I know, I messed up and should have started a new tumblr when I started writing on here but it’s my side blog and it gets so confusing when I respond to other people’s posts!

Also I’ve been meaning to finish up the last chapter of that bad boy but seriously hit a huge mental block when covid hit. I ended up picking up a ton of shifts at my hospital and just got so burnt out. With things finally coming back to normal, I’m finally getting back to writing. I really wanted to do that mini series justice so I’ve been doing little drabbles here and there to get the ideas flowing but I’m about to jump back on to finish! I’ve got the weekend off and I’m hoping to put some good work in.

And ugh omg I’ve literally been stalking your page on nights when I work because sometimes I just need a little break and TLOS and CV seriously just keep me going sometimes all the time. Everything is just so beautifully written and so well thought out, it really helps me escape ya know?

PS the slow burn is sooooo real for TLOS and I’ve never wanted to lock two characters in a room until they figure things out more than with your reader and Din. 😭🥰

#help im fangirling #senpai noticed me #tiffdawg

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princekunge · 4 years

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FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HOW DO YOU NOT RECEIVE FEEDBACK ON TLO, it’s legit my fav and I always send you feedback on it, people really need to start appreciating something if they really want it! 😤

I think I’ve gotten a few asks about it and had some feed back, but for the most part TLO just shows up in my notifs every once in a while when someone likes a chapter or the masterlist. I do realize it’s very frustrating to be waiting for an update on a story you like and I personally would love to be able to update it more consistently, but honestly I’ll just be lucky if I survive this last year of university much less be putting out fics consistently. Lol.

But thank you for your feedback that you’ve given and for liking TLO and for being patient with me.

#the lost ones asks #ask #anon

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spaceagebachelormann · 1 year

Note

psst you should totally write me some connor bailey dating headcanons because im super special and u love me

DATING CONNOR BAILEY

ੈ✩‧₊˚ FANDOM: the land of stories

ੈ✩‧₊˚ FORMAT: headcanons

ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: the enchantress returns & a grimm warning spoilers, like a tiny drop of angst if you squint

tlos masterlist || masterlist || navigation

you were probably just like

minding your own business

and this kid comes up to you and starts rambling

you’re like “okay…..”

he finally introduces himself and you become friends!!!!

connor seems like he gravitates toward readers…… so you were probably rlly into reading

okay um anyway!!

you become rlly close with him!! to the point where your inseparable

one day he blurts out he likes you without thinking

you return his feelings!!

okay now that i’m done explaining how you got together i can explain the other fun stuff

you’re also rlly good friends with alex

also his love language is physical touch <33 subconsciously has a hand on you at all times

like youll be sitting down minding your own business and you’ll feel a hand in your hair

don’t push him away he’ll keep doing it to be a bastard 😭😭

probably have that funny kid x bookworm trope

HE THINKS YOURE THE SMARTEST PERSON EVER!!!

you could have -17 IQ and he’d come to you for advice with anything

sleepovers with him are a must

he drools in his sleep. i don’t make the rules

at these beloved sleepovers he says something like “put on a horror movie i won’t be scared”

yeah he’s shaking super hard afterwards

CHARLOTTE LOVES YOU

connor “my mom loves you more than she loves me” bailey

she asks him how you are every day

you get sneak peeks at whatever he’s writing <3

always asks for constructive criticism

you never have any to give (yes he’s that good)

he’s the type of bf to be completely head over heels obsessed with his s/o

like if someone is rude to you in any way whatsoever he will destroy them

he seems like he’d doodle you on his work

like the teacher will be grading it and they glance at the corner and it just has a lil drawing of you and “y/n <3”

also also also he has that “anything for you <3” mindset

he loves you sm

comforting him after alex stays with their grandma in the land of stories

OH AND COMING WITH HIM ON THE TRIP TO GERMANY

talks the whole plane ride

also he falls asleep on your shoulder but pretends he didn’t

100% tells you bad pick up lines

is super proud of himself when you blush or are slightly affected by them

also he’s a terrible flirt

he starts out confident and ends up rambling about how pretty he thinks you are

the one time he flirted successfully you flirted back and it threw him off guard

in the 3rd book during his calls???? calls 😭 with alex using the glass/mirror he tells her all about you

she’s like “that’s nice :)”

she internally DOES NOT CARE but thinks it’s nice to see connor so excited about someone

on weekends you have to drag him out of bed and outside so you can go on walks and eat flowers and stuff

ALSO IF YOU CAN BAKE/COOK HED LOVE YOU FORVER

LOVES YOU ALSO IF YOU CANT COOK

you could give him something so burnt it’s just a black rock and hed eat it like it’s the best shit he’s ever tasted

this ones for you liz <33 because your great at fashion (and he is not) he purposely wears atrocious outfits just so you fix them for him

“did you do this on purpose?” “now why would you think that”

side eyes you without knowing it

it’s actually really funny

you look over and hes unsubtly side eyeing you

doesn’t know he’s doing it until you make eye contact or start laughing

so um he can’t bake but he can cook basic foods

and always brings you something he made a few times a week

overall he’s a jerk but he’s a sweet jerk <33

#mars writing 🧈#the land of stories #tlos #connor bailey #connor bailey x reader #x reader #liz 🌹#mars silly little mutuals <3

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tiffdawg · 4 years

Text

The Light of Stars | Chapter Nine: Curiosity

Gif: @bestintheparsec

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (no y/n)

Word Count: 8.5k

Rating: M | Warnings: Rating change for some snuggling, just to be safe and, if it wasn’t already clear, one (1) touch-starved Mandalorian. But really, hurt/comfort and angsty pining is all we know. Mild language.

A/N: So… I always intended for this story to be rated-T through the end to try and match the overall tone/content of star wars... but uh, these two, am I right? I’m just going where the story takes me. Big shout out to @leo-moon for this stunning edit. Like, I seriously can’t stop looking at it. Thank you so much Leo!! And, as always, thank you so, so so, much for reading. When I say that your comments and kudos and support keeps me going, I really mean it. I love and appreciate you all so much!

Read on AO3

TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Nine: Curiosity

When you woke the next morning, a soft cooing sound pulling you out of your deep slumber, you found yourself still curled into Mando’s side, his strong arm heavy around your shoulders. Beneath you, he was warm and solid, and you could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat in his chest as you rested against him. That steady sound never failed to ground you.

As you drifted into consciousness, you thought about how the normally stoic Mandalorian had surprised you with his forwardness when he asked to hold you. You knew he was capable of being gentle, but aside from his recent tendency to reach for your hand, that tenderness had never been directed at you in such a way. To share a bed, to hold someone through the long, dark night, felt like a sacred act. Intimate in its innocence. Other’s had warmed your bed – or rather your temporary bunks at various Rebel bases back when you’d scorned the way of the Jedi – but spending the night with a Mandalorian, especially that Mandalorian, was something else entirely. And it crossed some unspoken line between friendship and something you shouldn’t have dared to associate with the man next to you.

Although you knew reading into his actions would only make things worse for you, you couldn’t tame the spark of hope it ignited. He’d become your closest friend and confident, but you wondered if he didn’t feel something toward you. And so, the rational part of your brain couldn’t stop your heart from saying yes to him, to inviting him into your bed. You wanted to be close to Mando, always, but never more so than after you opened up to him about your vision. He’d been so kind and understanding. His empathy had poured through the cold armored exterior and washed over you, and you wanted to wade in that feeling for as long as possible. A selfish, foolish part of you just wanted him to hold you and never let go.

Knowing that moment was a gift, something stolen that wouldn’t last, you tried to commit to memory the feel of his body against yours while you had the chance.

At the sound of a happy trill, your eyes fluttered open slowly. The Child, now wide awake, sat upright on Mando’s chest, gurgling happily with a toothy grin every time Mando tickled him, poking playfully at the baby’s belly. You felt Mando’s short, breathy, modulated laughs beneath you rather than hearing them aloud. His affection for his foundling was endlessly endearing. You watched their little game quietly, loath to disrupt their fun.

You realized Mando must’ve moved at some point because the lights were on the lowest setting and a quick glance upwards showed you that while he was still missing the rest of his armor, his helmet had been replaced. The only thing that mattered was that he’d returned to you. Unlike last time when he’d slipped his hand out of your grasp and left you, he’d come back. And this was so much better. For whatever reason, he wanted to lie with you and hold you close for as long as possible. The pleasant feeling that realization sent through your system warmed your cheeks and pulled a lazy smile across your lips.

When the baby finally caught his hand, grabbing onto his index finger with six claws, he held it tightly as he looked up at his father with shining eyes full of adoration.

“Your son loves you,” you said, quietly voicing the thought as it passed through your mind. Mando’s visor tilted towards you, only just noticing that you were awake. He made an uncertain noise and turned his attention back to the little one. His body suddenly felt tense beneath yours. You repositioned yourself so that you could look at him properly, holding yourself up with a bent elbow. “You must believe that, don’t you?” you inquired pointedly.

The vocoder emitted a soft crackling sound, nothing more than static, and you imagined he was struggling to find the right words. It was one of those moments when language seemed to fail him. Before he could form some sort of response, the baby drew both of your gazes away from each other as he attempted to scale down the side of the bed, unwittingly relieving the tension that had settled between you. Mando pried him off the bunk, parting from you as he sat up to set the Child on the floor.

The kid waddled to the pile of new playthings he’d collected in the short time at the base, and Mando shook his head at the sight. “We’ve only been here two days,” he muttered.

“He’s quite popular,” you quipped.

“Raising a foundling is communal,” he informed you. “But they’re going to spoil him at this rate.”

“I’d say he deserves it,” you responded, laughing softly as the baby tossed around a geometric puzzle toy one of the older children passed on to him. He’d successfully solved it once, but, apparently, he was over that. Mando nodded his agreement before looking back to you, watching you quietly as he was prone to do. You knew you must’ve been quite the sight first thing in the morning, even if you’d had your best night’s sleep in years.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

You hummed a little as you considered his question. “Not yet, which is quite surprising for me.” He huffed at that but said nothing else. Just when you thought he was going to move to get up for the day, he reclined once more. At the low groaning sound he made as he settled, you instinctively soothed a hand over his side. “How’s your injury healing?”

“I’m fine,” he insisted as he shifted stiffly, seeking a more comfortable position, “Some aches are just age. But I’d feel better if– If you’d come here.”

Failing to fight the grin breaking out across your face, you returned to your place next to him. “Is that better?” you asked playfully. His only answer was the slightest squeeze of your shoulders. The two of you watched the baby play, moving from one toy to the next in rapid succession.

“You said he healed a mortal injury once,” you started, thinking out loud as you idly ran your hand over Mando’s injured side, “Is that why you pushed us away the other day?”

“Yes,” he answered, “He was weak after. I couldn’t let him do that again.”

“Wow,” you said excitedly. You propped yourself up so that you could look at him again. “Theoretically, I thought that might be possible, but I never knew of anyone who did it. That’s absolutely fascinating.” Your ramblings trailed off, as you lost yourself in your own mind for a moment, recalling some old text that you’d read years ago. “He’s such an impressive kid. And he really would do anything for you.”

“It wasn’t me he healed. It was an associate of mine.”

“Associate? Do you mean friend, Mando?”

“Maybe now. He wasn’t at the time.” He paused for a breath, visor trained on the baby. “I didn’t have friends until recently.”

“I would have never guessed,” you teased lightly. The helmet rolled sideways to catch your gaze. You could read his annoyance in that once simple movement, and you had to stifle a laugh. “All I mean to say is that you have a lot of armor protecting you. More than the Beskar,” you explained. “Personally, I really like the man underneath.”

He placed a hand over yours where it rested on his stomach and the two of you fell into another long silence at your words. But even as he was perfectly still, unmoving save for the rise and fall of his chest, you felt his eyes watching you, roaming your face. “You see me,” he said softly, a hint of something akin to disbelief in his voice, “More than anyone.”

If he was anyone else, you would’ve kissed him then. It wasn’t the first time you were overwhelmed with that exact desire. Instead, you brought his hand to your lips, hoping the chaste brush of your mouth against his skin would mean something to him. His hand gripped yours impossibly tighter, flinching at your touch.

“I’m sorry–”

“Stop apologizing for that,” he said, his voice resounding from deep in his chest, “It’s not you.” He left your grasp only to place his hand against your cheek, letting the pad of his thumb tentatively trace the curve of your mouth, lightly kissing your lips.

“Are there any other exceptions?” you asked, remembering your conversation from the night before. “Besides your foundling?” Mando’s hand fell away from your face, but before you could mourn the loss of his touch, he twined his fingers with yours, squeezing slightly.

“Are you trying to find a loophole, cyar’ika?” There was something light about his tone, but you still felt like you were asking something you didn’t have the right to ask.

“No,” you insisted, shaking your head. “I just–” Unable to look him in the visor, your eyes flicked across his chest, from one shoulder to the other. “I wonder sometimes, that’s all.”

“You’re not missing much.”

His comment drew your gaze back to his helmet and you narrowed your eyes at him. “I don’t believe that for a second, Mando. I don’t have to see you without your helmet to know that you’re beautiful.”

Mando was quiet for a drawn-out moment, practically motionless. You fidgeted under his stare, chewing on your bottom lip as you started to regret the words that had slipped out without your permission. You believed every word you said, but it was not something you’d intended to voice.

“My wife,” he answered finally, “If she swore the creed.”

“Your wife will be a Mandalorian,” you stated, thinking more out loud to yourself than asking a question. The exception made sense – of course his family should be able to see him – but it still stung in a way you didn’t want to acknowledge.

“That doesn’t matter,” he said quickly, his grip on you tightening, “I won’t marry.” You weren’t sure why, but it sounded strangely like a promise.

“I meant what I said before. You are loved. By your son, by–” You caught yourself, knowing you’d already said more than you should’ve. “You deserve to be loved, always. You deserve to be happy, Mando. I– I want that for you.”

His helmet was as expressionless as ever as he regarded you. You weren’t sure where the need to make him believe you stemmed from, but, in that moment, it felt like the most important thing in the galaxy. If you were going to leave him in a few short days, the least you could do was ensure that he would have a fulfilling life. You couldn’t look into his future, but you wanted whatever would make him happy. That mattered to you more than it probably should have.

When he finally spoke, it nearly broke what was left of your heart.

“I want that for you, too,” he said softly.

You felt your chest hollow as you lost your breath. You already knew that sort of happiness would escape you. No matter how much you wanted that life with him. Once again, it had been so easy for your playful banter to evolve into a more meaningful exchange – something that you couldn’t afford to indulge in. Needing to put some distance between the two of you, you sat up and tucked your legs under you, shifting away as you tried to remember how to breathe. “We should, um, get up. And start work on the ship so we can get to Lah’mu as quickly as possible,” you suggested, not truly meaning a word of it.

“Yeah,” he agreed, swinging his legs off the bed as he righted himself. Just before he made to stand, he looked back at you as if he wanted to say something. Apparently, he thought better of it, and the rare, slow morning in bed came to an end.

Deciding the best course of action would be to enjoy the last of your time with Mando and the Child, you pushed your heartbreak aside. With the morning’s conversation out of your mind, you spent half of the day with them both in the bunker’s large underground docking bay watching him work on the Razor Crest, helping where you could despite his insistence that you weren’t needed and could relax. Admittedly, you really didn’t know much about fixing starships.

Still, you sighed dramatically at Mando as he discussed how to maneuver a particularly heavy engine part up to the left wing with two other Mandalorians. Normally you weren’t so cavalier about using the Force around strangers, but you’d shared more of your skill with others in the past couple days at the base than you had with practically anyone else in your entire life. You’d always kept yourself a secret, but the Mandalorians knew who you were, and you felt safe with them. So, without even thinking about it, you silenced their conversation by using the Force to lift the massive engine for them with minimal effort.

“Show off,” Mando muttered as he walked by you.

“Learn to ask for help, Mando,” you retorted.

Later, you were playing with the kid, both of you having tired of the work going on around you, when Mando called down to you.

“Jetii!” he teased. It never held the same reverence as when the others said it. “Help me out and pass the carbon chisel,” he requested, waving a gloved hand at you.

With a retort on the tip of your tongue, you smirked up at him where he stood on the ship’s wing. However, the Child beat you to it. He speedily floated the exact tool Mando needed up to him. Only, he put a little too much force into it and the heavy metal chisel flew through the air, hitting Mando square in the helmet and knocking him back a few steps.

You gasped, watching with wide eyes as Mando staggered on the edge of the wing, but quickly righted him with a wave of your hand. When you were certain that he was safe, unbridled, slightly hysterical laughter burst from within you and you fell into a fit of giggles at the close call. As did everyone else in the hanger. Even the baby found his father’s near-fall funny. Mando stared down at the two of you unamused. You couldn’t stop laughing and the sight of him with his hands on his hips only made it worse.

When you finally wiped the tears from your eyes, you noticed the slight shake of his shoulders. He was laughing too. You imagined him smiling again, and your heart fluttered in your chest at the thought.

When the docking bay’s mirth finally subsided, you scooped the kid up, deciding he needed to expel some of his energy playing with the other children rather than causing undue bodily harm to his own father.

… . …

If Din thought traveling with you and the kid was making him soft, it was nothing compared to seeing the two of you among his tribe. He was still amazed at the way his people accepted the both of you. He was even more impressed at your ease around the Mandalorians. Though he supposed it shouldn’t have surprised him – not only had you been shockingly respectful of his culture since the day he met you, but you seemed to make friends everywhere you went.

Sometime after midday, he’d snuck away from the Crest in search of something to eat and instead found you at the center of attention in the main hall. A couple dozen younglings, including his own little foundling, surrounded you. That accounted for almost every child between the different tribes. Nearly as many adults listened to you speak from further away. Everyone seemed to hang on your every word as you told the children a story from your Rebellion days. It appeared he walked in at the end of your tale.

“And then the Imperial Star Destroyer exploded!” you announced dramatically with a sweeping wave of your hands. A chorus of excited exclamations rang out around you. And then question after question was thrown your way.

“How did you escape?”

“What did the Imps do next?”

“Which explosives did the Rebels prefer?”

Strategy and weapons appeared to be their biggest concerns. They were Mandalorian children, after all. And you answered each question with ease and a smile, encouraging their curiosities.

Din realized then that one day that would be your life. You’d seen yourself training young Jedi in your vision and he imagined it would look much like the scene before him. And you would excel at it. Of that he had no doubt.

But he couldn’t bring himself to be happy about it. He remembered what you said about that future. I was sad. I could see it in myself. Even surrounded by all those students, I was alone. He could still hear the shake in your voice as you held back your tears. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to want that future for you.

Of course, if he was being honest, he wasn’t particularly fond of either possible future.

He returned to the docking bay having forgotten why he left his work in the first place.

Hours later, as Din made his way through the underground maze of corridors, that scene of you surrounded by the children replayed in his mind. He despised everything about the situation you found yourself. Hated how impossible it proved to ignore his feelings for you. Couldn’t believe that it made him a sentimental, pensive man, completely lost in his thoughts when there were pressing matters to attend to.

And yet, he continued to struggle to reconcile your future, one that appeared to be perfect for you, with the knowledge that you were also destined to be alone. As was he. But as much as he wanted to be with you, he knew the two of you couldn’t stay together. You had a path you were determined to follow, and he couldn’t ask you to give up your code. Not to be with a man you could never truly know. You would never expect him to abandon his creed. He couldn’t give you something like what you say in your second vision – no matter how appealing – without breaking his oath.

It was a problem with no solution.

But he had an idea. A simple, indulgent idea that wouldn’t fix a damn thing but might offer you the smallest hint of comfort over the years. And if that was all he could do for you, then he would.

When he heard the familiar sound of fires of a forge and tools shaping steel, he realized he’d reached his destination. He moved into the armory quietly, but his alor noticed him even with her back turned. Nothing ever escaped her.

“I expected you would come around,” she intoned as she inspected her current project. It looked to be a pair of durasteel cuisses. She held both pieces in front of her visor, turning them in sync as she compared the two. “I must say, your Jedi proved impressive.”

“Vizsla deserved it,” he retorted.

“That is probably true. He usually does. But it is not what I spoke of.” Dissatisfied with her work, she returned to her anvil and continued shaping one of the pieces, molding it with each solid strike of her hammer. He waited patiently for her to continue, knowing she would only speak again in her own time. When she finished her task, setting her tools and the matching thigh plates on her worktop, she finally turned to him. “She has the spirit of a warrior, but the temperament of a leader.”

“Yes, she does,” he agreed. Something akin to pride swelled within him.

“And she is an excellent teacher. Everyone is taken with her. Especially the younglings,” she assessed correctly. Din offered a curt nod of agreement. “As are you,” she stated simply, looking at him for some sort of an answer. He couldn’t offer her one. Couldn’t even try to deny it. “You want something, Din Djarin. What is it?”

Din would never understand how the armorer, for all of her skill and wisdom, always seemed to know everything. He demagnetized his cuirass, setting it gently on her worktop. “I have a request.”

“The nexu scratch?” she asked, running a gloved finger over it, “That should come out easily enough. You could’ve done it yourself.”

“No,” he corrected quickly, “No, I’d like to leave that.”

“The mark of a battle won.”

“Yes.” The mark of a battle won together, he thought to himself.

“Something else then?” his alor prompted.

He swallowed hard, summoning up more courage than should’ve been necessary to ask for something so simple. “Yes.”

… . …

It was late in the day, well past the evening meal. That night it was a deliciously spicy stew that nearly had you in tears. However, there was something about their predilection for spicy flavors that seemed to fit the Mandalorians, and it only further endeared you to their culture. They were a unique people, but you found that you enjoyed them immensely. They were warriors with unmatched spirit. Although you could feel the palpable mark of generations worth of loss – something that weighed heavy on them all – they carried on with a fierce resolution that you admired.

At that hour, the base was quiet as most had turned in long ago, but a few of your shadows had returned to you. Four little girls, all probably no older than eleven, had knocked on the door to your quarters, politely asking for you and the Child. Even as tired as you were, you didn’t have it in your heart to deny them.

Which was how you ended up back in the main hall, now strangely peaceful as the usual crowd had disappeared into their quarters for the evening save for a few stragglers continuing their work and, as always, several more who remained on guard.

One of the girls, Syana, sat next to you, closely inspecting your hand and asking question after questions as to how you were able to channel the Force. She was definitely the oldest of the bunch, and relentlessly inquisitive. It was something you noticed the first day you met the young girl and you admired her for it. Two of the others, Mai-Sen and Ename, sisters only in that they were found together, played with the baby. They’d made up a game just for him, but, despite their best efforts to explain it, you still didn’t quite understand the rules. But they seemed to enjoy it and the kid was more than entertained.

Perched on your knee was the smallest and youngest of the group by several inches and a few years. She was a soft-spoken girl with a mauve-colored helm. Unlike the others, she was from Mando’s tribe and did not give her name. She had taken to exploring your features, caressing your face with her slender fingers. At first, her actions had confused you, but you reasoned that she was probably unused to seeing someone bare their face, and so you didn’t try to stop her. Even the four girls, as young as they were, each wore a traditional helmet. You couldn’t help but think they seemed too young for something like that. Of course, you realized, silently chastising yourself, you’d started your own training around the same age. That was hardly different.

The pad of her finger traced a circle following the arc of your brow and the bone of your cheek and she whispered to you. “Mesh’la,” she said softly.

“What?” you asked, perking up at the word. You’d heard it once before. The day you showed Mando your lightsaber. “What does that mean?”

“Beautiful,” she explained.

“Oh,” you gasped, your mind spinning at the translation. Of course, he’d probably been talking about the saber. He had to have been. He was a Mandalorian; his weapons were practically part of him. Still, you dared to ask your next question despite your better judgement. “What does cyar’ika mean?”

All four little girls giggled at you.

“You’re saying it wrong!” Ename called to you from where she sat with the baby.

“It’s not sah-ree-kah,” Mai explained cheekily, “It’s shar-ee-kah.”

“Of course. Forgive me,” you said hastily, “But what does it mean?”

“Sweetheart,” the littlest one said quietly. It felt like a punch to the gut, like all the air had been forced from your lungs and you couldn’t draw in a breath.

“No, it means beloved,” Ename corrected.

“That’s the same thing,” Syana placated.

The girls’ bickering fell away as you processed the meaning of the diminutive. Some part of you suspected Mando used his new name for you purposely, but you hadn’t imagined it could mean something like that.

Ename shook your shoulder, drawing you from deep within your own mind, and practically scolded you. “Mando’a is a special language. You’re only supposed to use words like those if you really mean them. That’s what my mother taught me.”

“That’s what my buir said too,” Syana agreed, looking up at you from her place next to you. Somehow that only made things worse. You finally realized why he was so hesitant to translate Mando’a for you. Because that one word meant that he felt something for you, even if he didn’t want to admit it. Who knew what else Mando and the others had been saying?

“Kayden called me mesh’la once,” Mai informed the group from where she sat with the kid. That was promptly followed by a few disgusted noises. You’d met Kayden; he was a rather typical boy for their age. It was enough to make you laugh even as your heart was crumbling in your chest and your stomach twisted itself into knots.

“Jetii, Jetii,” the little one in your lap said, tugging on the collar of your tunic, “Does Beroya call you that?”

“Beroya?”

“You really need to learn Mando’a if you’re going to stay with us!” Ename demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“The bounty hunter!” Syana explained, “Does he call you cyar’ika?”

Your crowd fell silent as they anxiously awaited your answer. Four T-shaped visors and a pair of large, dark eyes stared at you. You forced the word out. “Yes.”

Their excited, modulated gasps resounded throughout the hall.

After setting the Child gently on your bunk, you all but collapsed onto the bed next to him. A long-withheld, frustrated groan tore from your lips, muffled by your pillow.

The idea of Mando not returning your affections had been comforting. Even as his actions suggested otherwise, you clung to it to ease your own pain. While you weren’t normally one to take the advice of children on matters of the heart, according to them, the bounty hunter was in love with you. They’d stressed that fact. Repeatedly. And, much to your dismay, you were inclined to believe them.

He called you cyar’ika. On several occasions. Once, for the very first time, as he consoled you after your visit to the temple. Another time after he’d narrowly escaped death. When he held you in that very bed. And then half a dozen times more. Each moment was seared into your memory.

If it was as special a word as the girls said it was, you knew he wouldn’t use it if he didn’t feel something toward you. Not when he was as dedicated to his people and culture as he was. Mando always acted and spoke with purpose; he never did anything lightly. Which meant your fondness for him, the love you were trying so desperately to quell, was reciprocated.

And it made sense. Why else would he hold you at night? Share his secrets and memories with you? Wipe the tears from your eyes? You’d done everything you could to ignore the signs, but that was a hopeless endeavor.

A tiny hand resting against your shoulder drew you from your thoughts, and you turned your head to see the baby looking at you with a worried expression, his pointed ears turned downwards.

“I’m so sorry, little one,” you sat up and held him in your arms, “You don’t need to worry about me like you do. I’m just– I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. Being dramatic, perhaps?”

He made a cooing noise you took as his agreement. “You think so too?” you asked, tweaking his nose. His ears perked up and you smiled at him.

“How about we meditate together for a bit? That usually puts you right to sleep when it's late.” And it typically helped you when you felt overwhelmed. At the moment, it felt like your entire universe was collapsing in on itself like a black hole. You set the Child in front of you and let your eyes fall shut as you tried to center yourself. A few minutes later, you heard a soft snoring sound, and when you opened your eyes just enough to peak at him, you found him fast asleep against your pillow. “That’s what I thought,” you whispered to yourself.

You returned to your practice, focusing on steadying your breathing and uncoiling the tension in your shoulders. As you cleared your mind, reaching out toward the Force that surrounded you, you felt a familiar pull. Something you’d only felt once on Nar Shaddaa.

Curious, you moved towards one of the unused bunks where your belongings sat in a cluttered heap. Whatever was calling you, was inside your own satchel. You dug around for a moment before pulling out the old, broken datacron. It looked the same as the day you’d bought it, except for the unnerving fact that it glowed bright blue.

Acting on pure instinct and the slightest bit of hope, you placed the cube in the center of the room and knelt before it. You resumed your meditation, focusing intently on the object before you, seeking out it’s unique signature through the Force. Your eyes shot open at the faint clicking sound of the cube’s corners turning. The soft blue light of a holo filled the room.

It wasn’t a piece of junk after all.

… . …

“Mando!”

You skidded to a halt in front of him, nearly crashing into him as he exited the armory. Din placed a hand on either of your shoulders in an attempt to steady you as you caught your breath. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”

“What’s wrong? Where’s the kid?” he inquired.

“He’s fine! Everything’s fine. But you’re never going to believe–” You stopped short, head tilting adorably to the side as you looked over him. Or at least he found it adorable until he realized what you were looking at. “Why do you look crooked?”

You were probably the only person in the whole kriffing galaxy that would notice something so small. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said hoarsely.

“Your chestplate doesn’t look right” you reached out as if to adjust it, “You always look perfect.”

“Your mind is playing tricks on you, Jedi,” Din deflected, ignoring the hint of a compliment.

“Very funny, Mandalorian,” you teased even as your eyes lingered on his cuirass. “Which reminds me – come on!” You grabbed his hand and sped down the long hallway toward the barracks.

“Do you remember that old datacron I picked up on Nar Shaddaa?” you asked as you pulled him into the bunkroom. There was a nervous excitement about you he hadn’t seen before.

“Sure,” he answered, glancing between you and the baby sleeping on your bunk. The kid didn’t seem to mind the sudden intrusion.

“Well, it’s not just some datacron,” you started, producing the object from your bag, now glowing bright blue in your hands. “This is a Jedi holocron,” you announced with a bright expression. “It’s probably from the old temple on Coruscant! That’s where the archives used to be, until the Empire destroyed every holocron they could get their hands on.”

“What was this doing in a junk shop on Nar Shaddaa?”

“I can only imagine. But these are extremely rare,” you said, gently placing the holocron in his hand. He inspected the Jedi artifact, tracing the golden edges with a gloved finger. “I haven’t even told you the best part yet,” you added, failing to repress your smile.

“What’s the best part?” he asked, playing along.

“This holocron–” the grin you’d been fighting broke out across your face, “–Is dedicated to the Jedi’s history with the Mandalorians.”

“Really?” Din questioned, not bothering to hide the excitement in his voice. He couldn’t believe that this palm-sized device, something he’d initially dismissed when you’d showed it to him, might hold answers to his questions about the Jedi. “Have you read any of it?”

“Not yet. I was waiting for my favorite Mandalorian,” you said coyly, a bright glint in your eyes.

“I’m here now,” he teased, “Open it.”

A few hours later, the two of you were still sitting on the floor of your shared room, backs against the bunk where the baby slept, sorting through the hundreds of files stored on the holocron. With each new piece of history revealed to you, your excitement had faded until you were slumped against the bunk, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

“Our people have fought each other across the galaxy for millennia,” you concluded, “And they absolutely, unequivocally hate each other.”

“You might be right,” Din conceded reluctantly. His alor had once called the Jedi enemy sorcerers. But the extent to which that was true had surprised even him.

“I mean look at this,” you continued, ignoring his agreement. With a wave of your hand you recalled the files on the Mandalorian-Jedi War you’d read over earlier. “The Jedi destroyed your people’s homeworld. Mandalore is basically uninhabitable because of what they did. And, if that’s not bad enough, because of that war, everything that you wear is specifically made to combat the Jedi. The Beskar, the jetpack, your weapons, your vambraces, your helmet…” you trailed off as your eyes scanned over each piece of his armor, “It was all created to protect you from someone like me.”

He would’ve liked to refute you, but you were right. According to everything the two of you had read so far, the Jedi and Mandalorians were enemies even at the best of times. Learning that the Jedi were responsible for the destruction of Mandalore was a particularly brutal blow. As was discovering that the very beskar’gam he wore was designed to compensate for and overcome the abilities of a Jedi. Your abilities. It was clearly detailed right there in the text with accompanying schematics. Apparently, that fact upset you as much as it unsettled him.

And yet you were still the first person to get past his armor. And you hadn’t even needed your powers to do so.

“How does everyone here not hate me?” you sighed, as lost in your own thoughts as he was in his, “How do you not hate me?”

“I could never hate you,” he stated, “And I doubt most people here know about half of this stuff. Hell, I didn’t know about the Jedi or the Force until I met the kid. There’s– There’s got to be something good in here.”

You banished the file with a flick of your wrist and brought up a new piece of history. You repeated the action several times, switching between documents when you came across something that frustrated you. “Would you like to read about the best ways for a Jedi to strike down a Mandalorian in close combat?” you muttered as you disappeared that file as well, “Or maybe about the Jedi’s proposal to banish Mandalorians to Wild Space a few hundred years ago? I’m sure that’s a lovely read.

He had to admit that none of that sounded particularly helpful. When Din said nothing, you continued your rapid-fire scan of the holofiles. Just as he was about to give up hope, you gasped and sat straight up.

“Look!” you said excitedly, “There was a Mandalorian inducted into the Jedi Order. That means they didn’t always hate each other. Although,” you added, your face falling as you read more, “That was a thousand years ago.”

“It’s something,” he quipped. A small smile broke the sad expression that had marred your features only a moment ago. “Tell me more.”

“Well, it looks like Tarre Vizsla joined the Order,” you said as you quickly scanned the text. Din rolled his eyes behind his visor. Of course, it was a Vizsla. “He later broke away from the Jedi and became the Mand’alor.”

You turned to him and he answered your question before you could ask it. “The sole ruler of the Mandalorians.”

“Oh, interesting. You had a Jedi ruling your people at one point, Mando” you said, elbowing him playfully in the soft padding covering his side.

“Former Jedi,” Din corrected, earning an exasperated look from you. “Keep reading. Please.”

“Only because you asked so nicely,” you retorted before returning to the holo. “As the first Mandalorian Jedi, Tarre Vizsla crafted a unique weapon called the darksaber. It says here that after his death the Jedi kept the blade until Clan Vizsla stole it from the Temple.” You scoffed at that. “Why do I get the sense that it was really the other way around? Either way, it became an important unifying symbol for all Mandalorians. That’s absolutely fascinating.”

Before he could say anything, the holo shifted and the text was replaced by an image of a lightsaber not unlike your own save for the angular black blade. When you were quiet for a beat too long, Din glanced over and found you staring at the image with wide, unblinking eyes, your former excitement replaced with something that looked more like fear.

“Cyar’ika?” he prompted, resting a hand on your shoulder.

“I’ve seen this…” The light in your eyes dimmed as you stared off in the distance past the holo, looking at something Din couldn’t see.

“In your vision,” he finished for you.

“Yes.”

While he was afraid that he would be right again, he ventured another guess anyway. “The second one?”

“The man I was fighting wielded this exact weapon.”

He looked at the lightsaber again. “A Mandalorian?”

“I’m not sure. I didn’t get a good look at him, but it was definitely this saber. There must only be one like it.” You turned to look at him, concern written all over your face. “But what does that mean?”

“I– I don’t know,” he offered lamely, frustrated at himself for not having anything more to add than that.

“Shit,” you cursed, completely unlike you, “Gods, somehow these visions keep getting worse.”

“But you’re not choosing that future, so it shouldn’t matter,” he reasoned.

“Well– I suppose that’s true.” You seemed to shrink in on yourself at the concession.

As much as you insisted that you’d made your decision, Din remained unconvinced. Your future weighed heavy on you. And he wanted nothing more than to make those worries go away. Wished he could take those visions from you so you wouldn’t feel all of the pain and anguish they’ve caused anymore. His grip on your shoulder tightened just enough to draw your attention back to him. You set a hand over his, absentmindedly tracing the raised lines of the blue triangle on his handguard. He watched your repetitive movement, mesmerized by the touch couldn’t feel, and his next words tumbled out uninhibited. “Are you sure you don’t want that other future?”

“Of course I do,” you said quietly, “But not with– And not if it means giving up on the Jedi. I know that this doesn’t cast them in the best of light,” you said, waving toward the holocron, “But the Jedi have always been a beacon of hope for people. And after what happened to them…” You faced him again, and he watched you steeled yourself, a hard, resolved expression falling across your features. “There are few like me. And even fewer with any sort of knowledge of the way of the Jedi. I have a duty to finish my training and pass on what I learned from my master. Otherwise the Jedi will die. After everything that’s happened, the galaxy needs that hope, that light.”

“And you can give it to us all,” he mused, “Your light burns brighter than all the stars.”

“Mando,” you sighed, already attempting to contradict him, “That’s–”

“It’s true,” he said firmly.

“Then how could I turn my back on the Jedi now? How could I be so selfish?”

Din had no response to offer you at that, nor could he push the matter further. He understood your devotion. You’d made up your mind, and he would respect that. There was nothing more he could do.

“We can read more of this later,” he suggested, gesturing to the image of the strange saber. “I think I’ve learned enough for one day.”

“I agree,” you said dryly while you flicked off the projection

“Then get some rest. We’re leaving tomorrow so–”

“The ship is fixed?” you interrupted.

“It’ll be ready by the evening meal.”

“That’s–” you paused as you toyed with the holocron, twisting one of the corners. “That’s good. Tomorrow’s our last day here?”

“Once the Crest is fixed, there’ll be no reason to stay,” he answered.

“Right.” You agreed, seeming to refuse to meet his gaze.

“You should get some sleep,” he repeated.

“We both should,” you corrected. “With our luck, or lack thereof, who knows what will happen next.”

He gave a huff of a laugh at that. Truer words had never been spoken.

… . …

After he gently placed the baby in his carrier, pausing for a moment to adjust his blankets before sealing the cover, Mando switched off the lights, removed his helmet, and laid down in his own bunk. An uncomfortable silence fell over the shared sleeping quarters, broken only by the rustling of your sheets as you fidgeted in your bed across from him. It stretched on for what felt like an hour but was probably only ten minutes. Despite your exhaustion, sleep eluded you.

Of course, he knew what he wanted. If your time with him was coming to an end, you wanted to savor every last moment with him. And you were tired enough to not think twice about it.

“Mando–”

“Cyar’ika–”

He didn’t hesitate. He crossed the room, fell into your bed, and closed the distance between the two of you, his arms encircling you and pulling your body to his.

“That’s so much better,” you sighed as you relaxed into his hold. He hummed his agreement as he held you impossibly tighter. You didn’t seem to mind. “I don’t want to leave,” you admitted.

“Me either, cyar’ika,” he stated simply. The name pierced the very fabric of your soul as you remembered what you’d forgotten in your excitement over the holocron.

“I know what that means. Why you call me that,” you whispered against his chest. You let your statement hang there in the open, let the truth of it sink in.

When he didn’t say anything, your heart collapsed in your chest. Maybe the little girls didn’t actually know what they were talking about. Perhaps you’d been wrong to think that the term held that sort of sentiment for him.

But then you felt a light hand against your chin, tilting your head up to face him in the dark. A pair of soft lips brushed against yours in a ghost of a kiss. And yet it was enough to send a shock of electricity through you. He had a way of overwhelming your senses until you couldn’t think straight. The rest of the galaxy faded away and all that was left was him. That would be your undoing.

You shifted closer, just a fraction of an inch, but it was all he needed, and he captured your bottom lip between his, giving you the sweetest kiss. He pulled away just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his nose bumping yours as the two of you delighted in your closeness.

“Cyar’ika,” he whispered to you, his voice still rough around the edges but softer than you’d ever heard it before. He was smiling just as you were. Of that, you were almost certain. Seeking some sort of confirmation, you placed a hand on his cheek, finding it full and rounded from the grin that pulled on his lips. Without even being able to see him, you knew it was the most beautiful smile, made all the better because it was for you.

He kissed you again, firmer, but still so careful, and your hand fell from his face, finding purchase in the fabric of his shirt to pull him closer, asking for more. He was generous enough to give it to you, cradling your head as he deepened the kiss. Wanting to feel him again, your hand traveled lower and you dared to slip under the hem, trailing your fingertips lightly over his warm skin. His abdomen contracted under your touch and he broke the kiss, but he didn’t stop you that time. It occurred to you that no one ever touched him. No one, besides maybe you and the kid, ever saw him without the armor. And doubtlessly no one was allowed to feel the man underneath the Beskar. Perhaps no one ever kissed him either.

Just you.

Feeling emboldened, you splayed your hand across his stomach. He let out a shaky exhalation in response that seemed to confirm your suspicion. “Is this okay? Do you like it when I touch you, Mando?”

“Yes,” he rasped, his breath mingling with yours.

“Why me?” you asked because that was the question that tormented you the most. Why did he have to pick you?

“Sweetheart,” he whispered, soft and full of emotion as he finally gifting you his translation of the endearment, “Don’t make me say it.”

Deciding it would be better if neither of you said much of anything, afraid of what the truth might be, you took a different approach. “Do you want to touch me too?”

“Fuck–” he swore. It sounded like he was choking on the curse. “Yes.”

At his response, you sat up and lifted your tunic off your body, flinging it haphazardly across the room. He followed your motion and pulled his own shirt off with your help. As soon as it was over his head and off his arms, it followed the same trajectory as yours. You wanted nothing more than to feel him against you and he seemed to want the same. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your chest to his so that your skin was almost perfectly flush so that only the thin fabric covering your breasts separated the two of you. And Mando– He made a sound most unbecoming of a Mandalorian. His arms engulfed you as he brought the two of you back down to the bed, your body on top of his.

His calloused hands wandered, caressing every bit of your exposed skin. You knew that if anyone before you didn’t touch him, then he didn’t get to feel anyone else either. He seemed to relish the sensation of your skin against his as he traced the curves of your shoulders, followed the arch of your back, and kneaded the softer parts with just enough pressure to earn delirious whimpers from you. Your mouths meet again with more fervor. Your lips came together and pulled apart, each kiss lingering longer than the last as your shared hesitancy turned to confidence and urgency. It was hot and breathy as neither one of you wanted to part long enough to draw in air.

You felt his affection for you in every warm touch and every passionate kiss. That moment was the culmination of your developing feelings, and you gave everything you had to it. You could only hope that he would finally realize that what you’d told him that morning was true. That he was loved. That you loved him. Truly and deeply.

Mando chased your lips every time you broke apart. He was eager and greedy, and you would’ve happily given him anything. His enthusiasm only spurred you on – you could feel the same excitement that coursed through your veins pouring off of him – and your hands found their way to his hair. You threaded your fingers through his wavy locks to pull him even closer, eliciting a low moan from the back of his throat.

“This feels–” he sighed, “You feel so good.”

“So do you, Mando,” you said breathlessly, smiling against his lips.

“Wanted this, wanted you,” he murmured his lips moving lower to your jaw to leave a warm trail of lingering, openmouthed kisses, each one lower than the last, “Since kriffing Vrogas Vas.” You practically whined under his ministrations and at his words, enchanted by the pleasure he pulled from you. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

Reality set in suddenly and sharply, and you stiffened in his hold. He stopped his movements immediately though he wouldn’t let you go. “Because we shouldn’t,” you answered wetly.

“I know, but–” He never finished his sentence, only spitting out a single word of Mando’a. Something that sounded like a curse.

“I’m so sorry. I want this, but I– I can’t–” you murmured, burying your face against his neck and fighting back a sob as your emotions threatened to overwhelm you again. You were so tired of feeling like you would break anytime you thought of your future. Or the future you wouldn’t have with him.

“I know. It’s okay. Just– Just let me hold you.” You’d never heard him sound so sad before, and a whole new wave of sadness washed over you. It wasn’t just your heart that was breaking. He felt it too. He ran his hand up and down your back, trying to soothe you. It sent a shiver through you, and you were keenly aware of the cold bunker around you after stopping your feverish touches. He pulled the threadbare blanket pooled around your waist over your half-bare bodies.

“I don’t want to leave,” you repeated, sounding strangled by your own words.

“Me either, cyar’ika,” he echoed before pressing one last kiss to your temple.

... . ...

Mando'a Translations

Cyar'ika: beloved, sweetheart

Mesh'la: beautiful

Beskar'gam: armor

Mand'alor: sole ruler

... . ...

Thank you for reading!!

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann

The Light of Stars Tags: @roxypeanut @mrsparknuts @evidenceofzoe @holographic-carmen

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfic #fic: the light of stars

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tiffdawg · 4 years

Text

The Light of Stars | Chapter Two: Interference

Gif: @bestintheparsec

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (no y/n)

Word Count: 4.6k

Rating: T | Warnings: None really. Maybe some minor angst?

A/N: Chapter two is here! The adventure continues, but not with out a few setbacks for our heroes. As always, thanks so much for reading. Oh, and happy birthday to our Mandalorian, Pedro Pascal!

Read on AO3

TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

... . ...

Chapter Two: Interference

“What the hell is going on?” You shouted at Din over the sound of the alarm. On his other side, the Child let out a sharp screech as if asking the same thing.

“Not sure,” he answered truthfully, “But I need you to hit the emergency override.” He pointed to the wall behind you. He was grateful when you jumped up, quick to follow his order, and did as you were told without needing any further instructions. The alarm mercifully ceased but the red signals continued to cast an eerie crimson glow across the cabin. There was definitely something wrong with his ship. After years of flying the Razor Crest, he only needed a quick glance at the readouts on the HUD and the fuel levels before he knew exactly the cause of all the trouble.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, flipping the necessary switches as fast as physically possible. “Get ready to drop from hyperspace. This isn’t going to be pretty.”

Din heard the click of your restraints as you hastily buckled into the passenger seat and he briefly looked over his shoulder to make sure the kid was strapped into his crib. Once he was sure you were both safe, he pulled hard on the hyperdrive lever. The ship shuttered around them at the unexpected change of course and the telltale stream of blue starlight faded from the viewport as the Crest dropped from lightspeed. The Child gave an excited, bubbly laugh behind him and Din turned partially around so that he could look the kid over.

“You would enjoy that,” he said, letting out an exasperated sound, something halfway between a laugh and a sigh. Returning his attention to the ship’s controls, he pulled up the star chart on the HUD and set course for the closet planet with a spaceport. Not that he had many options.

“Ever been to Saleucami?” he deadpanned.

“Can’t say that I have, no,” You answered breathlessly behind him.

“Well, today’s your lucky day.” He punched in the coordinates and maneuvered the ship towards the backwater planet.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?” There was an edge to your voice, and he felt a twinge of guilt run through him. He wasn’t exactly used to traveling with someone and never did explain what caused the alarm or the sudden drop from hyperspace.

“Looks like a fuel leak so we’ll be stopping a bit earlier than expected. We should just be able to reach Saleucami for repairs and refueling.”

“Does this sort of thing happen often?”

“No.” He lied but amended it quickly and the ship shuddered around them and you scoffed at him. “Yes. It is an older ship, so it happens sometimes.”

“Good to know.” You let out a deep breath behind him.

As far as spaceports on the Outer Rim go, Saleucami wasn’t particularly impressive, but it wasn’t the worst Din had visited over the years. In fact, many considered the planet to be a quaint oasis. As he haggled with a surly Weequay mechanic in a rather run-down docking bay, Din felt more like he was in his own personal hell.

“It’s a simple fuel leak. There’s no way repairs should cost that much.”

“If you don’t like my quote, go somewhere else, Mando.” The mechanic pointed a stern finger at him as he spoke, and it took every ounce of self-control Din had to stay calm. His right hand twitched at his side, but he forced himself not to ignite the flamethrower on his vambrace as he remembered that if it didn’t work with a bunch of Jawas, it wouldn’t work now. Instead he shook his head and turned away.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Din grumbled more to himself than the irritable man he was negotiating with.

“Frankly, I’d like to see you try to get that busted ship out of my shop. Things have been boring around here and I could use a good laugh.” Despite his taunts, Din knew he was right. The Crest wasn’t going anywhere.

“Fine,” he spat out between gritted teeth, “We have a deal.”

“Ah, see,” the Weequay slapped a sweaty hand against Din’s shoulder. The mechanic’s mood seemed to change instantly. “I knew you’d come around. And since we’re such good friends now, I’ll bump you up in line. We’ll get started on your ship right away.”

Din refused to respond, shrugging off the man’s hand. He figured he was paying him enough that he didn’t have to be nice about it. The Weequay smiled at him anyway and then whistled sharply. A couple of service droids whirred to life and rushed towards his ship. He bit back his usual request for no droids. His entire world had been turned upside down in the past few weeks. While a former bounty droid saving the kid and sacrificing its life for Din didn’t absolve all droids in his mind, a few astromechs working on his ship seemed like the least of his problems at this point.

As his line of sight was drawn back towards the ship by the scuttling droids, he noticed you disembarking. You walked at a place slow enough for the kid to keep up, taking one small stride for ten of his. You seemed to be speaking to him, and every few steps the Child would stop his progress down the ramp to look up at you and respond. He shook his head at the sight, not quite knowing what to make of it, but unable to look away.

“Hey,” he said, catching the Weequay’s attention once more. “Is there a cantina nearby? Somewhere they could get something to eat and I could find work. That is, if you want to get paid for these overly expensive repairs.”

“Oh, of course! My brother runs the best cantina in town. It’s just a few streets over.” He quickly pulled up a map on his datapad and pointed out the cantina. He jested boldly, “Good food and good bounties! Don’t you worry, Mando, it’s the perfect place for you. Tell them Jax sent you, you’ll get a good deal.”

“I’m sure I will,” Din muttered under his breath as he moved around Jax to meet you and the kid.

If by “best cantina in town” Jax meant dark and outdated with just a touch of a criminal element, then it probably was the best cantina in town. It was early enough in the evening that only a few patrons sat around the bar drinking and speaking in hushed tones. As soon as he’d walked in, he knew it wouldn’t be hard to find work and he’d only had to briefly speak with the bartender, another Weequay and presumably Jax’s brother-in-law, before he was directed to a human sitting in a booth at the back of the cantina.

A slurping sound brought his attention back to the table as the Child devoured a bowl of stew. A bit dribbled down the side of his face, but the kid seemed unfazed, so Din just wiped it away with a gloved finger. Even without looking, he felt you watching the whole exchange from the other side of the table.

“So,” you started, fully capturing his attention. You spoke in between heaping spoonfuls of food. “Tell me more about this job”

“Some Gran failed to repay his gambling debts and is hiding out on the outskirts of town. Easy enough job, but the Hutts are looking for him so it pays well.”

“You don’t mind working for the Hutts?” You were eyeing him again with a slight scowl. “They’re slavers.”

“A job’s a job.” Even as he said it, he didn’t even believe his own words anymore. The kid slurping stew next to him was evidence enough to that. You huffed at his response and crossed your arms. “Look, working with the Hutts isn’t my first choice either,” he said, hoping to appease you, “But I’ve got to cover the repairs for the Crest somehow so we can get off this kriffing planet.”

Your eyes dropped from his and you nodded softly in acquiescence. He could tell you weren’t happy about the situation from the way you pushed your food around with your spoon. A minute ago, you were shoveling it in as fast as the kid. An uneasy feeling settled in his stomach, but before he could offer an apology, you spoke up.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” you asked.

“You don’t have-” he started.

“I want to.”

You were clearly still upset about the situation with the Hutts, but your overture seemed sincere. Though if the last day was any indication, he had the impression you were a strong-willed woman and would continue to challenge him. For some reason, that thought didn’t bother Din.

“Like I said, it’s an easy job and I should be back by morning. Just take care of the kid tonight.”

“I could do more,” you offered.

“I’m sure you could. But that’ll be plenty.”

“Okay,” you nodded again, this time with a faint smile, and went back to your food. When you finished a few minutes later, he picked the kid up. This time, the Child didn’t protest to being carried, but rather relaxed into Din’s arms, smacking his lips a few times and patting his little belly.

“Lucky for you, the kid ate his weight in stew and will probably sleep through the night.” He went to exit the seedy cantina but turned back around when you didn’t follow.

“Take sleepyhead back to the ship. I’ll catch up in a minute.”

“Sure.” Your actions continued to perplex him, but he took his leave anyway.

… . …

Based on the scene that greeted you when you entered the docking bay, the Child would not be sleeping through the night. At least not anytime soon. It appeared that sometime on the walk back from the cantina to the ship, the mix of an extended naptime and a hearty meal finally caught up with the kid and he was now running, as fast as his tiny legs would permit, full speed around the ship bay. The curious little toddler inspected everything in his path and squealed happily at each and every droid he encountered. Meanwhile, the Mandalorian stood idly by, shaking his head at the baby’s escapade, and you couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. Your quiet laugh alerted the Mandalorian to your presence as nothing seemed to escape his notice.

“So much for bedtime,” you joked lightly.

“It was too good to be true.” He made an exasperated sound as the kid tried to climb up the leg of a pit droid.

“I have an idea.” You jogged over and gingerly removed the Child from his perch on top of the DUM-series droid. The droid chattered at you and gestured towards the mess of parts laying in front of him. You muttered a quick apology and hurried off with the kid, leaving the mech to his work. As you carried the kid inside the hull of the ship, the Mandalorian fell in step behind you.

“Can I try something?” you asked, seeking his permission. “Just something small, to get him to focus.”

“Go for it.”

You set the child in the center of the cargo hold and he, unsurprisingly, resumed his mad dash around the ship. You scanned the space for a small but safe-enough object, finally settling on what appeared to be an old compressor valve cap that was lying amidst some spare parts. Sitting cross-legged on the floor of the ship’s hull, you took a few deep, steadying breaths, centering yourself with the Force. When the kid finally noticed what you were doing, he waddled up to you and sat across from you as if trying to mirror your position. He might’ve been too young to meditate properly, but he seemed to understand the purpose of your stillness. You felt his signature in the Force calm down as his big brown eyes stared at you inquisitively.

You stayed like that for a few minutes. Then, with practiced ease, you levitated the valve cap, lifting it slowly so that it floated in between you and the kid. His ears perked up at that and you smiled down at him. With a flourish of your fingers, you spun the spare part in mid-air before reaching out to catch it.

“Now, you try.” You set the object in front of the kid. “I heard about the mudhorn, so I know you can do it.”

The kid trained his wide eyes on the Mandalorian, who nodded once in return, urging him on. His focus back on the valve, he reached out a clawed hand, eyes squinting in concentration. For a long moment nothing happened but it didn’t surprise you; from what the Mandalorian told you, the kid had only used his powers in life or death situations. It would take a bit of practice before he could call upon the Force at will. Still, you weren’t surprised when the object began to shakily float in the air, following the path the kid traced with his hand, before tumbling back to the ground with a small clatter.

“Good job,” you cooed, gently stroking the tip of one of his ears, much to the kid’s pleasure. He made a second attempt, lifting the object with a bit more ease, before bringing it to himself. He then promptly shoved it into his mouth, chewing on one of the corners.

“Let’s not eat old ship parts, kid.” There was no menace to his scolding as the Mandalorian gently pulled the spit-soaked part out of the kid’s grasp. You stood so that you were facing him, with a proud smile you couldn’t keep at bay.

“That’s one special son you have here, Mandalorian.”

“Yes, he is.” The kid babbled in agreement. He’d moved in between the two of you and was beaming up at you. “You know, you can just call me Mando.”

“Seems a bit impersonal,” you said as you considered the Mandalorian before you, “But if you insist.” You found yourself wondering, not for the first time, who exactly was the man beneath the Beskar and if the eyes under the visor held your gaze in the piercing way you imagined. You pushed those thoughts from your head as quickly as they invaded your mind, internally chiding yourself for thinking like that. When you broke away from his stare, your eyes fell on your forgotten satchel. “Oh, Mando!” you said, testing his moniker, “I can’t believe I almost forgot.” You rummaged through your bag before offering a small container to him. “You didn’t eat at the cantina, so I had them package something up for you.”

“You did?” He asked, unable to hide the bewilderment in his voice.

“Yeah, of course. It’s no big deal,” you said, trying to brush off the gesture.

“It is, actually,” he replied, and you felt him lean a bit closer, his dark visor trained on your face. This time, you didn’t need to see his eyes to know he was studying you, and it made you sad that such a small gesture could so easily confound the stoic Mandalorian. You waited for him to elaborate, but he seemed to be finished speaking, so you tried to fill the silence.

“Consider it my thanks for getting the credits we need to get out of here. I only wish I had more to offer. I can keep practicing with the kid so you can eat in private before you go.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, carefully taking the container from your hands as if it were something much more precious than cantina food. With that, he disappeared deeper into the ship to wherever his own quarters must be. Trying not to dwell on the peculiar interaction, you picked up a slightly heavier spare part off the pile from earlier, tossing it between your hands a couple of times to test the weight, before turning back to the kid.

“I must’ve been going easy on you earlier. Wanna try something harder?” You took his sly smile and happy chirping noises as a resounding yes.

The kid let you practice with him until long after Mando left and the droids outside ceased their work for the night. When he finally curled up in your lap and fell asleep, you thought your heart was going to burst from the darling gesture. You also felt an immense relief as you were beginning to think he’d never tire himself out. You carefully tucked him into his makeshift cot and, after a few moments of careful consideration, then proceeded to move it into your room right next to your bunk. The thought of him roaming the ship unsupervised at night terrified you and you were so exhausted you probably would’ve been able to sleep though a fair amount of his destruction. You laughed to yourself at the notion as you watched him sleep, his peaceful face betraying none of his impish tendencies.

When you finally crawled into your own bunk, you were too tired to even complain about how ridiculously uncomfortable the damn thing was. It was a small price to pay for transportation and decent company. Better than decent, if you were being honest. It’d been a long time since you’d had any type of companionship and while the bounty hunter and his strange green foundling were a curious pair, you were grateful for the company. With a final glance at the sleeping baby, you flicked off the overhead lights and tucked in for the night. Before sleep overtook you, you let your mind wander to places you hadn’t allowed it to in a long time, recalling memories of your own training as a youngling and mentally modifying old lessons to fit the kid’s needs.

… . …

After a few hours of searching, Din tracked the orange-skinned Gran to a small settlement a few clicks outside of the main spaceport. With three wide eyes, the bounty pleaded desperately for his freedom, but after an unsurprisingly short scuffle, Din had him in binders and settled into the backseat of the speeder he’d hired. The Gran might’ve been a gambler, but he certainly wasn’t a fighter.

Saleucami’s three moons were just setting for the night as they made their way back to the cantina where he was told to return the bounty. The human he’d met earlier sat in the same booth nursing what appeared to be his fifth drink of the night despite the late hour.

“Good work, Mando,” he said jovially with only a slight slur as he raised his cup to him, “Didn’t expect you back quite so soon but I must say I’m impressed. Drinks on me.”

Din didn’t say anything as he shoved the Gran into the booth across from his temporary employer. He remained standing, waiting patiently for the reward, and it was only when the man made no move that he finally spoke up.

“The rest of my payment?” he asked with a sigh. He’d already given the first cut to Jax, who was quick to remind him that it wouldn’t be nearly enough.

“Fine, no drinks then. Have it your way.” He tossed a heavy pouch of credits onto the tabletop. Din seized it and turned to leave without another word.

“You know,” the man shouted after him, “There’s more where that came from!” Din stilled halfway to the front entrance. “Yeah, that’s what I thought, Mando,” he drawled. The client made a show of emptying his tankard and ordering another drink before he continued. “I told my employers about you, best in the parsec and all that. The Hutts are quite interested in hiring a Mandalorian for a certain well-paying job they’ve got lined up. It’s yours, if you want it.”

In the past, he wouldn’t have even had to think about it. He had just enough credits to pay Jax with a little left over for the ship’s next refueling. He’d need the money sooner rather than later. Especially if there were any more setbacks like this one. It should’ve been an easy answer, but it wasn’t. His gaze drifted to the booth he’d sat in the previous evening with you and the Child. Your reaction to learning he was working with the Hutts had been visceral and loomed heavily in his mind. You’d been nothing but kind to him, he mused as he recalled your unexpected offering of food and the affectionate way that you trained the Child. More importantly, he needed your help if he was going to find any answers about the kid’s people.

But he also needed the credits.

“I’m listening.”

… . …

The next morning, you woke to the tinny sounds of repair droids working outside the ship. It took you much longer than it should have to notice the deeper sound of boots treading on metal coming from inside the Crest. The baby, now wide awake in his carrier, seemed to make the connection at the same time that you did. His animated face hid none of his enthusiasm for his caretaker’s return as he reached towards you, silently begging to be taken to Mando. You jumped off your bunk and hoisted him up in one fluid motion, finding yourself just as excited that the Mandalorian was back from tracking down his bounty.

“You’re back early,” you said in place of a more typical greeting when you found him in the hull re-racking his weapons. He turned quickly and you almost felt bad for sneaking up on him. He probably wasn’t used to having anyone else besides the Child on his ship.

“Like I said, easy job,” he responded, taking the squirming baby from you. The Child instantly calmed down once he was with his father, leaning into the Mandalorian’s embrace and cooing contentedly. The tender way he held the baby against his chest plate brought a smile to your face as you watched the pair.

“Does that mean we can pay for the repairs now?” you asked after a moment.

“Yeah, but there’s going to be a slight detour,” he answered without looking up at you.

You gave a light laugh, “Why am I not surprised?”

“The client told me about another job,” Mando started to explain, “I didn’t want to take it, but the credits would cover us for a while. Especially if we have any more unexpected delays like this one.”

“What’s the job?”

“You’re not going to like it,” he said hesitantly.

“More Hutts?” You already knew the answer.

“More Hutts,” he affirmed. “And we have to go into Hutt Space.”

“You’re right. I don’t like it,” you said, and a tense silence filled the hull of the ship. “But it’s probably a good idea to have some credits on hand,” you could concede that much, but it didn’t make you feel any better. When he didn’t say anything, you kept talking despite herself. “I’ve been searching for Master Zarichi for five years so there’s no real rush and I suppose I’m just along for the ride at this point.” You cringed at the sarcasm dripping off your own words but didn’t have it in you to amend your attitude. The last thing you wanted to do was spend a moment longer helping some sleemo Hutts. When he still didn’t offer a reply, you told him you would be meditating and disappeared to your quarters.

You sat with your knees folded beneath you in the middle of your cramped bunk room, trying but failing miserably to center yourself. After decades of training, meditation was second nature to you. It usually came easy, like a calm wave washing you with only a few deep breaths. But every time you closed your eyes, images of slim-covered Hutts plundering your childhood village flashed unbridled before you. Try as you might to banish the memories, they just kept playing one after the other on a constant loop until your fury crested and you surrendered to it.

With a heavy sigh more akin to a growl, you collapsed from you practiced position and slumped against your bunk. Despite the silence around you, your master’s final words rang out loud in your mind. Anger isn’t the way of the Jedi. The words were an echo of a past long gone, but you remembered the night like it was yesterday.

“You can’t leave us - not like this!” The foreign desperation in your master’s voice chilled you to the bone, almost made you want to say. Instead, you steeled yourself, refusing to be guilted into changing your mind, and left behind the warmth of the small hut for the thunderous storm raging outside.

“Anger isn’t the way of the Jedi,” Master Zarichi called after you from the doorway, her voice cutting through the icy rain pouring from the dark sky, “Revenge is meant only for the Sith!”

“Well, then it’s a good thing I am neither,” you spat back over your shoulder as you walked away, fully prepared to leave the only home, the only family, you’d known since you were a child if it meant the Hutts and the Empire faced retribution for their crimes against the galaxy. You refused to watch passively any longer. Not when you finally had the power to do something and no matter what side of the Force you’d need to call on - Jedi and Sith both be damned.

“We don’t need her anymore.” Your younger brother followed a step behind. You gave him a withering look, but before you could open your mouth to scold him, to tell him to say behind where he’d be safe, he spoke again, his words confident and predictable. “Where you go, I go.”

You nodded your acquiesce and he fell into step next to you. “This is not the path of the Jedi, you know.”

“No, this if for our parents. For us.”

“You’re damn right it is.”

With careful fingers, you toyed with your mother’s necklace, letting the feel of the smooth curves and sharp points of the crescent moon finally calm you. You thought you’d worked through most of your anger towards the Hutts - the war had been surprisingly cathartic for you. Evidently a few weak embers laid dormant inside you, waiting all of this time to be stroked into a fierce flame. Fortunately, you’d given up all delusions of becoming a Jedi years ago and so you allowed yourself to feel your anger and hatred, if only for a moment before it was replaced with an equally powerful feeling of shame.

Sure, you didn’t like working with the Hutts; the very idea made your stomach turn. But what really started to irritate you was your own behavior. Even though you knew you had every right to stand your moral ground against the Mandalorian, you couldn’t help but feel like your criticism was making both of your lives more difficult. You were a grown woman and you hated that you felt like a petulant child. You’d had plenty of temporary partners on your previous travels and their actions never affected you like this. This one should’ve been no different. Mando was doing what he had to in order to get you halfway across the galaxy and, hopefully, closer to finding your master. You knew you shouldn’t care about the decisions he made to do so, and yet you did. Deeply.

... . ...

Thanks for reading!

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfic #my writing #my fic #fic: the light of stars

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tiffdawg · 4 years

Text

The Light of Stars | Chapter Three: Confidence

Gif: @bestintheparsec

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (no y/n)

Word Count: 5.8k

Rating: T | Warnings: Hurt/comfort, one incident of sexist language, mild language.

A/N: This is a bit of a lengthier chapter so I’ll apologize for that now...but there’s a lot of exciting things happening in this one. I also want to say thank you again (and a million more times) to everyone who has supported this story so far. It’s much appreciated and I love you all!

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TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

... . ...

Chapter Three: Confidence

Nal Hutta was just under 6000 parsecs from Saleucami and you and Mando spent the entire flight in silence. No amount of meditation seemed to ease your frustration with yourself nor your Beskar-clad companion so when you had finally tired of your half-hearted attempts to center yourself with the Force, you reluctantly trudged into the main cabin and threw yourself into what you’d been starting to think of as your chair. Mando made no acknowledgement of your presence but it hardly surprised you.

You made planetfall just after sunset. Mando landed the Razor Crest on the outskirts of Bibousa, the urban center and heart of the Hutt homeworld. The small peninsula of solid ground the ship stood on was surrounded by a swampy bog and the second the telescopic ramp opened just a fraction a wave of hot, sticky air hit you head-on. Everything felt damp instantly and you actually found yourself missing the slightly less humid but infinitely more pleasant jungles of Felucia. You scowled at the swamp from the open hatch, loath to set foot on the planet’s surface.

But just as you’d made up your mind that the entire planet was nothing more than a disgusting, greasy slimeball, the last bit of daylight disappeared, and dozens of twinkling lights began to flicker around the ship. Despite yourself, you admitted the sight before you was beautiful. Breathtaking, even. It wasn’t until one of the lights flew by you that you recognized the tiny reptilian as a solbug, small bioluminescent lizard-like creatures with wings that seemed much too slight to propel their bulbous bodies through the air. Shimmering shades of blues and greens from the blinking solbugs lit the evening sky before you and you conceded that Nal Hutta had one good thing going for it.

A jubilant squeal at your feet drew your attention to the Child, who’s wonderous eyes took in the scene before him. His innocent joy made your chest feel a bit lighter and you were grateful for your tiny new friend. Then he was off, speeding down the ramp as fast as his short legs could take him, hands stretched out towards the nearest solbug.

“I bet you ten credits he catches his own dinner tonight,” Mando retorted from where he stood next to you, his hands lazily resting on his belt. It was the first time either of you had spoken to the other in hours and, in your mild surprise, it took you a moment before you understood his meaning.

“You think he’s going to eat those things?” You turned to him, your eyes widening at the realization. “No way.”

His only response was to gesture towards the kid who was shoving a cerulean solbug into his mouth, swallowing the creature alive and whole. As soon as he finished the first, he started chasing a second helping. You weren’t sure if the sight before you made you want to gag or laugh and the sound that escaped you was a strange mix of both. Before you could comment on the little one’s exploits, Mando spoke again.

“Why do you hate the Hutts so much?”

You had been so wrapped up in the lighthearted moment unfolding before you that his question caught you off guard. You didn’t answer right away, unsure if that was a topic that you wanted to delve into with him. If anything, you needed to remember to distance yourself from the Mandalorian, to not let your emotions muddle your temporary partnership.

“Do I need a reason to hate them?”

He fixed his expressionless gaze on you, like he knew there was more to the story and he had all the time in the galaxy to wait for you to continue. You weren’t sure why, but you took a deep breath, steeling yourself and let the words spill out.

“When I was twelve, the Empire all but destroyed my homeworld. It was a hopeless situation, but my people fought back anyway. We lost, of course, and after Imperial forces occupied my city, they decided we needed to be disciplined, taught a lesson. In a rather cruel act of ingenuity, they delegated the bulk of our punishment to the Hutt Cartel. The Hutts came in and took whoever they wanted and made slaves out of my people.” The last part was always the hardest to admit and you did your best to keep your voice steady, “My mother was young and beautiful, and she went willingly because it gave my brother and I a chance to escape. Her sacrifice is the only reason I’m still here.”

“Did you ever look for her? Your mother?” Even through the vocoder, you heard his voice break softly over his last word. There was a sadness that radiated off of him through the Force that resonated with something deep inside of you. It made the next part even harder to say.

“No. I didn’t have to. She died a few months later.” You cast your gaze away from his, unable to meet his stare any longer. Suddenly the bit of dirt left over from Felucia under your thumbnail became the most interesting thing in the world. “We both felt it happen,” you added quietly, finally looking back up at him. Even without being able to see Mando’s face beneath the visor, you could feel his puzzled stare.

“Through the Force?” he suggested as an explanation.

“Yeah,” you said softly, “My younger brother was also able use the Force.”

“Was?” It was framed as a question, but he stated it if he already knew the ending to that story too.

You nodded solemnly before adding, “He was part of Operation Ringbreaker on Xagobah. Never came back.”

“He was in the Rebellion?”

“We both were. Rhys flew X-wings, and I worked in reconnaissance.”

“You were a rebel spy?” He asked and you thought you heard a hint of incredulity in the otherwise steady timbre of his modulated voice. A small smile crept up despite the heaviness of the conversation. For the first time since your brother’s death, you were enjoying giving these bits of yourself that you’d desperately kept hidden to someone else. It was almost cathartic, and it was so easy to share with him that you didn’t even think twice about it.

It was also nice to think that you’d impressed a Mandalorian.

“You remember that mind trick I told you about? Let’s just say it made me quite useful to the Rebellion – even if they had no idea why I was so good at my job.” You laughed, a real, full-bodied laugh, when he shook his head at your in response. “You know, for such a quiet guy, you’re full of questions tonight, Mando.”

There was a long silence and you worried you’d pushed too far with your quip. Maybe he wouldn’t talk to you anymore. That really shouldn’t have cut as deep as it did, and your smile fell from your face.

But then he leaned towards you, just enough for you to notice, and as if you were two opposite magnets unable to resist the pull of the other, you felt took a step closer to him without ever making the conscious decision to do so.

“I can’t help it. You… you interest me,” he stumbled over his words, rather unlike himself. It was a simple enough statement, but there was something resigned about the way he said it, as if he wished it weren’t true, but it was anyway. Maybe you weren’t the only one who was getting too comfortable with your newfound partnership. You smiled even as you tried to ignore the tight feeling in your chest. “And I’m sorry that all of that happened to you,” he offered, and you sensed something mournful in the otherwise impassive Mandalorian.

“It’s okay.” You looked back out at the floating lights, suddenly overwhelmed by his gaze, and tried to swallow the lump in your throat. “The Imps did a lot worse to a lot of other people.”

“That doesn’t make your pain any less real.” For someone who never seemed to say much, what he did say had weight to it. You had to close your eyes to keep the tears from falling down your face; there was no way in hell you’d cry in front of a Mandalorian.

“I’m sorry I gave you such a hard time today,” you whispered. You faced him again and sought out his masked eyes as you apologized. It was a practice your father instilled in you as a young girl.

“Don’t be. I get it,” He placed a gloved hand on his cuirass just over his heart, an expression you found much sweeter than he probably intended. His hand fell and he gave a humorless laugh, “Hell, until very recently, I refused to ever use droids. I trusted them about as much as you trust Hutts.”

“What changed?”

“That’s a long story,” he sighed.

“Maybe one day you’ll share your stories with me,” you suggested boldly. You knew without a doubt that this Mandalorian understood loss and pain just as you did; you could hear it in everything he said and everything he didn’t. As much as you wanted to distance yourself from him, you wanted to know everything about him and his foundling.

He appeared to consider your proposition, before giving you a slight nod and what you thought was a muffled maybe. Finally, you felt all of the day’s tension dissipate and a comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you watched the kid hunt solbugs until he’d had his fill.

As the Mandalorian tucked the Child into his carrier for the night, you dug around a few well-stocked storage cabinets until you found a couple of dehydrated portion packs. After preparing the night’s fare, a task that took very little work considering the nature of the meal, you brought a helping of the reconstituted food to Mando in the cockpit. While you couldn’t be sure, he once again seemed surprised at your offering of food.

“Figured you’d want something more substantial than solbugs,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. “I’ll take mine in my room.”

You were halfway over the threshold when Mando called after you. “How come you never ask?” That caught your attention. You looked back at him, taking in his armored visage. He didn’t have to clarify; you knew what he meant.

“Why would I?”

“Everyone does.”

You turned so that you faced him fully and moved a few steps closer to the pilot’s chair. You chose your next words carefully, not wanting to upset your newfound peace.

“If you wanted to show your face to me, you would. It’s none of my concern neither if you do or don’t, nor the reasons why you choose not to do so. I’m not exactly familiar with the tenets of the Mandalorian creed, but I know enough to assume it has to do something with your beliefs,” you said, hoping you wouldn’t offend him in any way. When he nodded in response you continued. “I respect that. I respect you. So, I have no reason, no right, to ask.”

“Thank you,” he said after a long moment.

“I take it, that's not the usual response.”

“Not exactly.”

“Honestly? I’m happy just to have met you, Mando.” You gave him a small smile, hoping it offered some comfort. Then you hurried out of the cockpit, having decided you’d admitted far too much for one evening. Even if it did feel like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders.

When you woke the next morning, Mando was long gone. You found the baby still snoozing safely in his carrier in the cockpit, but he seemed to sense your presence. He woke with a delighted trill, his animated face hiding none of his excitement.

“Good morning, little one,” you cooed softly at him as you picked him up. “What do you say we find something to eat?”

His big eyes blinked up at you a few times before he presented you with a toothy grin that you took as an affirmative.

While the Child munched on nuna jerky (which he was noticeably less excited about than he was hunting solbugs the night before), you opted for a pack of dried meiloorun fruit you’d found in the bottom of one of the storage containers.

You decided to open the ship’s hatch to let some fresh air in and after punching in a few different combinations on the control panel, you finally managed to cancel part of the Crest’s security protocols and lower the ramp. Even though you weren’t particularly fond of Nal Hutta’s sticky heat, it was better than breathing in recycled air all day.

As the toddler ate his morning meal, seemingly insatiable, you started a well-practiced exercise routine you’d been taught as a padawan. The combination of powerful fighting moves and meditative breathing was meant to bring harmony between the body and mind as well as prepare you for combat. You quickly felt the effects of your physical exertions and the planet’s balmy climate, and you stripped of a couple of extra layers to cool your feverish skin.

It wasn’t long after that when you noticed the kid watching you intently, his breakfast long forgotten. He waddled up to you and made a few chirping noises before levitating your package of fruit to you from across the hold.

“Are you showing off?” you questioned playfully, “Or just trying to make sure I eat? Either way, good job.” You tore off a piece of the orange fruit, popping it exaggeratedly into your mouth before handing him a small piece. He sniffed it curiously before taking a few test bites. “You don’t like fruit, you little carnivore? How about we get some practice in instead?”

His large ears perked up at that, so you set the food aside and picked up a few of the objects he seemed to prefer practicing with, the old valve cap and a metal ball bearing from the control panel being his favorites.

After it was clear he wasn’t having much trouble levitating small objects, you decided to test his new skills. Putting a few paces between the kid and yourself, you tried tossing the valve cap toward him, hoping he would catch it in midair.

You cringed every time he startled at the cap clattering against the metal flooring of the ship.

Taking a slightly different approach, you demonstrated how he should catch it before it hit the ground, if only to spare yourself from the face he made every time it hit the floor. You were just about to give up on the exercise when he finally caught on, carefully stopping the valve cap before it crashed to the ground again and levitating it in front of him.

“Yes!” you shouted, effectively causing him to lose focus. The cap fell, but he gurgled happily at your excitement. “You did it!” you cheered at him as you picked the toddler up and held him to your chest.

There was something so satisfying in watching him learn to use his powers that you just couldn’t help your elation and you recalled something your master said to you once: there was no greater responsibility than teaching, no sweeter joy than watching a padawan succeed. You hadn’t thought much of it when you were thirteen, but you found you now shared her sentiments wholeheartedly.

… . …

As it turned out, the bounty commissioned by the Hutt Cartel was actually two. A pair of smugglers on their payroll were skimming more than their fair share off the top of the crime syndicate’s earnings and the Hutts wanted to deal with them personally. For Din, that meant all he had to do was deliver them alive but in carbonite. Just another day’s work as far as he was concerned.

His contact made it seem like the swindlers weren’t aware that the Hutts had made them (although it really should be common knowledge that it’s never a good idea to double cross a Hutt) and from what intel he could dig up from a couple of talkative locals they were both still going about their business as usual in Bibousa. Hopefully, that meant they’d have no idea he was coming and he’d be done with this job by the day’s end.

By midday, he’d tracked the wanted smugglers to a warehouse in an industrial district and just as he was beginning to think the job was too easy, he discovered why it paid so well. The two robust near-humans were well-trained fighters. As he brawled with the brothers, he cursed the fact that they had to be captured live, deciding he’d rather attempt to wrangle wild wampas.

In the end, Din subdued them both with only a few superficial wounds of his own and some minor property damage to the adjacent storage facility. Once they were in binders, he hired a cheap speeder to take the three of them back to his ship where it waited for him just outside the city.

When they reached the Crest, he paid the driver, who wasted no time rushing off once his credits were in hand, and hauled the two bounties into the ship’s hull. The slightly smaller of the two was still unconscious from a particularly hard blow to the skull, but the larger smuggler was struggling against Din.

At least he was until you dropped down from the second level of the ship wearing little more than a pair of leggings and a breast band. The bounty seemed to forget his precarious situation at the sight of you.

The near-human whistled lowly, leering at you, “Look at that. The Mando’s got himself quite the pretty little whore stashed away in this junk-heap of a ship. Wouldn’t have taken your kind for the type but look at her – who could blame you?” He bared his pointed teeth as he snarled at you.

Before Din could say anything, you were stalking towards the bounty. He watched you curiously; the dark look in your eyes was almost seductive as you scanned the man’s body. He would've been disturbed had he not quickly realized you were sizing him up. Hunting your prey.

The unsuspecting smuggler relaxed, smirking at the woman before him. Din, on the other hand, took a step back to give you space as he waited to see what you would do. The man was more than a head taller than you and easily twice your size across, but you caught him completely off guard. He watched with wide eyes and raised brows as you slammed his body into the carbon freezer with a few quick moves and much more force than strictly necessary. Rousing from his trance, he started the machine before the bounty could utter another obscene comment at you.

“Creep,” you spat venomously at the frozen face before turning back to Din, a fiery look still ablaze in your eyes. Even without seeing you in action, he knew you were a capable woman. It was evident in the way you held yourself. But finally getting a glimpse of your strength was something else. You were impressive. Admirable.

Alluring.

The thought invaded his mind before he could stop it and he was extremely grateful his helmet covered his face, all but certain his expression would betray the way you’d affected him.

“Looks like you had a productive morning,” you retorted, unaware of his racing thoughts. “What are you going to do with this guy?” You motioned towards the near-human lying prone near his feet. He’d forgotten about the second bounty.

“Uh,” he started, clearing his throat before continuing, “Same as his friend here. Give me a minute.” He moved around you to rearrange the carbon stacks. “Where’s the kid?” asked, trying to distract himself.

“Napping. We trained for a bit until he fell back asleep.” As you spoke, he could feel your eyes watching his every move. “He’s determined to levitate everything on this ship now. Might have to start tying things down.”

“Good,” he said, dragging the unconscious body across the cargo hold and into the freezer, “Thanks for practicing with him.”

“Of course,” you replied, “I honestly enjoy it. It’s been a while since I’ve been around another Force-user. And it’s nice to be useful again.”

“Good,” he repeated as he faced you again. And then, as he seemed to want to do around you, the words were falling out of his mouth before he could stop himself, “We have time before I need to drop them off on Nar Shaddaa. Want to spar?”

He shouldn’t have asked. The longer you stood across from him, your calculating eyes sizing him up, the more Din regretted asking you to spar. He felt way too hot under the Beskar and it wasn’t from the swampy air around him.

“You think you can handle me?” you asked teasingly. You circled him slowly, but he never took his eyes off you.

“Yeah,” he sighed, “but no Force tricks.”

“Don’t worry, Mando,” you smirked, “I’ll go easy on you. This time.”

In an instant you were on him. You aimed for the soft parts of him, expertly avoiding the Beskar. He was quick to block you, smacking your hands away before you could land a hit. He moved to trip you, but his attempt went unnoticed as you dodged him with light footsteps. Just from your opening attack it was apparent that you weren’t going to hold anything back. Neither was Din.

There was nothing violent about the way you fought, and it was unlike any adversary he’d ever faced before. Every step was graceful, every attack fluid and smooth, and every block looked effortless. There was a practiced ease and each move flowed right into the next. But after the first time you knocked him flat on his back, he learned there was also a raw power behind your every move. He hadn’t underestimated you. You just hadn’t revealed your true strength.

“Did the rebels teach you how to fight?” Din asked in between punches.

“No,” you huffed out as you blocked his fist, “Master Zarichi took my brother and I in after our parents died. She protected a few Force-sensitive kids like us, Empire orphans mostly.” You lunged toward him, landing a solid strike on his exposed side and earning an exasperated grunt from him. “Then she taught us how to protect ourselves, with and without the Force.”

You struck up a defensive stance, ready for his counterattack. He surprised you by diving towards you with his full bodyweight with enough force to knock you over. You resolved to take him with you, grabbing on to the collar of his cuirass with one hand and a pauldron with the other. The pair of you toppled onto the soft grass and for a moment he thought he’d won the round until you hooked a leg around his waist and leveraged yourself so you could roll him over onto his back. Straddling him with your knees on either side of his waist, you pinned his arms above his head just to be safe. Although, if he was being honest with himself, he let you do that last part without much resistance.

“Clearly you learned to fight from the Mandalorians,” you stated, your shaky breaths betraying how much you’d exerted yourself.

“What gave it away,” he said sarcastically, not expecting an answer and mostly in an attempt to hide his nervousness.

“You fight with your body. If you fought like this without your armor, you’d be dead in a heartbeat, Mando,” you said with a breathy laugh. When you released his wrists and pushed yourself off him, he felt your absence immediately. You held out a hand, he took it without hesitation, and you pulled him up so that you were sitting next to each other. “And it comes naturally to you so clearly you learned young.”

“I was a foundling once too,” he said, thinking about the sleeping baby back on the ship. You looked at him with imploring eyes, and your sympathetic expression told him it was safe to share more. You’d trusted him the night before with your secrets. Din felt he could trust you with his. “I lost my parents when I was young, during the Clone Wars, but the Mandalorians saved me. They raised me as one of their own. Trained me in the fighting corps, gave me a purpose.”

“I guess you and I are more alike than we thought,” you said after a quiet moment.

“Yeah, we are,” he said quietly. A silence settled over the two of you as you sat in the grassy marsh, with only the sounds of some native creature chirping in the distance. “I’m happy to have met you, too,” he finally added, recalling your conversation the night before. The thought tumbled out of his mouth, slipping past the protection of his helmet, and, despite his soft whisper, he knew you heard him. A small smile played at the corners of your lips. Neither of you said anything for a long time and Din was grateful for your lack of questions, your understanding.

“You know what always makes me feel better when I start thinking about…everything?” you asked a few minutes later.

“What’s that?”

“Going another round.” You grabbed his hand as you stood and pulled him to his feet, giving him no choice but to continue sparring. Not that he would’ve said no.

A couple of hours later, the unlikely trio stepped out of a docking bay and into the middle of a buzzing city center. Sentient creatures of all species crowded the streets, from Hutts and humans to Rodians and Trandoshans. Most went about their business, popping into shops, haggling with food vendors, or ducking into seedy cantinas, but plenty of others lingered on street corners and just inside the mouths of dark alleyways, clearly waiting for trouble. Those were the ones who seemed to watch the Mandalorian’s every move.

Suddenly conscious of the woman walking next to him and the small bundle in your arms, Din’s hand moved to rest on the grip of his blaster, though he wanted to think it was more out of habit than any sense of fear. It didn’t matter anyway. A quick glance in your direction told him it was unnecessary as you looked completely at ease amongst the hustle and bustle of the Smuggler’s Moon. Besides, you’d more than proven yourself capable of handling any threats that might come your way.

In the brief moment Din had distracted himself with thoughts of your earlier sparring match, you’d said something to him, and he’d completely missed it. “What was that?”

“I just thought since you don’t really need us to meet with your client, I might check out a few of the shops,” you suggested. “I’d also really rather avoid hanging out with any members of the Hutt Cartel,” you added, your voice a bit quieter than it was a moment before.

He was about to say that the three of you should stick together when the Child let out an excited chirping noise and tried to squirm his way out of your arms. “Oh, I don’t think so,” you said, tightening your hold on the struggling baby, “I know it’s exciting here, but you’re not walking around town on your own.” You looked over at Mando as you joked, “Your father would hunt me down and kill me if something happened to you.”

You moved the Child to one hip and dug around for something in your satchel, pulling a worn shawl out of your bag. With a bit of maneuvering, you wrapped it around yourself so that it held the baby tightly against your chest, almost like a birikad. Amazingly, the Child stopped fidgeting and settled against you happily. Din was taken aback at how much the action impressed him. He was also surprised at his certainty that the kid was perfectly safe with you. Any doubts he might’ve had disappeared somewhere between Felucia and Nar Shaddaa.

“Sure,” he answered, “Meet back at the Crest in an hour. Then we can get out of Hutt Space for good.”

“Looking forward to it,” you said with a smile before veering off towards one of the shops.

Passing a couple of tipsy Twi’leks on his way in, Din entered a sleazy lounge owned by the Hutts who’d contracted his services. Upbeat music immediately assaulted him and purposefully drowned out the conversations of the bar’s patrons. Wordlessly, a young man standing guard by a roped off area waved Din over and led him to a back room where two Hutts were waiting for him along with a group of their associates and attendants.

“Achuta, Mando,” the larger, gray Hutt said, gesturing dramatically in Din’s direction. His rotund, slug-like body rolled with the sudden movement.

“Greetings, Mandalorian,” a silver-plated protocol droid shuffled up to Din, bowing slightly in acknowledgement, “I am TC-70, translator for the exalted Zergga Urvoac of the Hutt Clan. I will be facilitating today’s meeting.”

“Great,” Din deadpanned. When the droid turned to relate his comment to his master, Din sighed, “Don’t tell him that. Just, tell him I have his bounties in carbonite. Docking bay E-7. It’s the Razor Crest.”

The droid jerked forward in what Din assumed was supposed to be a nod before translating his instructions to the Hutts. He let the droid speak for him, having not practiced his huttese in some time. Any dealing with a Hutt was uncertain from the beginning and he figured it would be best not to offend his clients. When the droid finished speaking, Zergga waved a short arm towards a Rodian woman standing amongst his attendants and she immediately rushed off.

“A crew has been dispatched to offload the carbonite blocks from your ship,” the droid said to Din. “Zergga would like to offer you his gratitude for apprehending the traitors. You have been of great service to the Hutt Clan.”

“Look, tell your boss I just need to get paid,” Din inquired, hoping to speed this whole interaction along, “But, say it nicely.”

“Of course, Mandalorian.” Din had a suspicion the droid was adept at rephrasing translations to keep his Hutt master happy.

“Jee andoba choba che ta, Murishani.” Zergga’s low voice rumbled deep from his belly as he spoke. “Meendeya hees naga ta creeda,” he added with a rolling laugh, his yellow eyes narrowing at Din.

“I have another offer for the bounty hunter,” the droid translated, “Methinks he needs the credits.”

“Payment for this job will be plenty.” It might’ve been tempting in the past, but Din had other places to be than in the Hutt’s deep pockets. He’d also been replaying your conversation from the night before in his head all day. You’d confided with him about something so deeply personal and he desperately needed to feel like he earned that trust. He gritted out a terse thank you as a humanoid attendant stepped forward with a decent sized package. He opened the lid, revealing the credits agreed upon for the job, and then handed it over to Din. “Pleasure doing business with you,” he quipped without bothering to hide his sarcasm.

… . …

You were waiting in the main hold with the Child when Mando finally returned to the Crest. The kid waddled up to him with his arms stretched overhead, silently asking to be held. You’d noticed he did that whenever Mando left him, even if it was just for a short time. Unsurprisingly, he obliged and gently lifted the kid to cradle him in his arms. You smiled to yourself unsure if you’d ever get used to the sight of the indomitable bounty hunter tending to his sweet baby with such care and adoration.

You’d gotten an up-close look at his warrior side earlier that day. He was powerful and agile, and dangerously efficient. You’d learned firsthand that he was skilled in combat and deadly in his tenacity. For every time you’d managed to get one up on him, he knocked you down even harder. Sparring with him was a welcome challenge. It was exhilarating.

Yet moments like this one reminded you of Mando’s softer side, a part of him you highly doubted most people were lucky enough to witness.

“How’d things go with the Hutts?” you asked from your perch upon a few staked cargo containers as you attempted to focus back on the present.

“Well enough,” he replied while keying in a code on his left vambrace’s control panel. The ship’s hatch closed behind him and he moved closer to you. “But that’s the last time I work with the Hutts.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, wondering if he was implying what you thought he was.

“I mean we’re done with them. For good.”

“You don’t have-”

“Nonnegotiable,” he interrupted. “Besides, we’ve got better things to do.”

“Thank you,” you practically whispered, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, “I, um, I appreciate that.” The sincerity behind gesture meant more to you than you knew how to articulate. Mando didn’t owe you anything. Yet his promise to eschew the Hutts suggested a shift in your partnership. Or, at least you hoped it did.

He nodded in response and dropped his gaze to your hands where you were absentmindedly twirling a palm-sized datacron. “You guys find anything interesting?”

“I don’t know,” you held the polyhedron object up for him to inspect, “I found this old datacron. I don’t even think it works.”

“Looks like a piece of junk.”

“That’s what the old lady at the shop said. She let me take it for a few measly credits.” You ran a finger across its sharp angles and edges. “It seemed important at the time.”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I just felt drawn to it, like I needed it.” It was the strangest thing. You’d been rummaging through old electronic parts in a secondhand shop, hoping to find something you could use to upgrade your old datapad, when you’d found it at the bottom of the scrap heap. Without even thinking it over, you’d hastily purchased it. Shaking your head, you slipped it back into your bag and hopped off the containers. “So, think we’ll actually make it to Vrogas Vas this time?”

... . ...

Mando’a Translation

Birikad: baby carrying harness

Huttese Translations

Achuta: hello

Jee andoba choba che ta, Murishani. Meendeya hees naga ta creeda: I have another offer for the bountry hunter. Methinks he needs the credits. *I attempted to translate this myself so please don't judge my non-existent huttese too harshly.

... . ...

Thanks for reading!

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #my writing #my fic #fic: the light of stars

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tiffdawg · 4 years

Text

The Light of Stars | Chapter Four: Disruption

Gif: @bestintheparsec

The Light of Stars

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (no y/n)

Word Count: 5.5k

Rating: T | Warnings: maybe some angst with copious amounts of fluff (these two are all about the hurt/comfort), canon-typical violence.

A/N: I told myself I wouldn’t do this two weeks in a row, but this is another long one as our trio is moving into the next phase of their adventure. Bonus points* to whoever finds the Obi Wan quote from Ep. III (*the bonus points are love). Blink and you’ll miss it.

Read on AO3

TLOS Masterlist | My Masterlist

… . …

Chapter Four: Disruption

You were meditating again, and Din was starting to think it was your natural state. It was how he found you in the jungle and how you spent a good portion of you time on board the Crest. He watched as you sat perfectly still in the copilot’s chair, your only movement the slow rise and fall of your chest with each measured breath. As Din peered at you over his shoulder and through the corner of his visor, he couldn’t help but think it made you a rather agreeable passenger.

Partner?

Or maybe friend?

Things had gotten complicated in the short time you’d known each other, and he wasn’t quite sure what you were to him at this point.

Most importantly, the Child liked you. And he found your meditations absolutely fascinating. You’d had a few opportunities to practice together, but you were justifiably hesitant to teach him anything while the ship was in flight, which Din agreed was probably a wise decision. More often than not, the kid would sit across from you, his entire focus trained on you, until his own eyes fell shut. Since leaving Nar Shaddaa a few days prior, it was becoming something of a routine. While Din wasn’t sure of the degree to which he was meditating or simply mimicking you, the little troublemaker seemed to be better for it either way. He’d been noticeably less fussy on the long flight and much less prone to mischief.

A flash of green in his periphery alerted Din that the Child had finally woken up from his nap and crawled out of his makeshift container. He toddled across the cabin, headed straight for the copilot’s seat, and before Din could stop him, he was scaling the side of the chair and plopping himself into your lap. He expected the kid’s sudden appearance to startle you, but you didn’t seem to mind. The only indication that you noticed his presence was that your hands came to rest at the baby’s sides, helping to support him as he stared up at you with wide eyes full of wonder. It struck Din that your movement might have been an unconscious one, but the gesture did something to him, nonetheless. It pulled at something buried deep within him that he wasn’t prepared to acknowledge.

In the days since leaving Hutt Space, the three of you had settled into a quiet existence. Din spent most of his time in the cockpit, alternating between navigating the ship, entertaining the kid, and stealing quick naps when he had the chance. It was much easier to rest with you to help watch the baby and he was quickly becoming accustomed to your presence on his ship. You often accompanied him in the main cabin, sometimes speaking softly about whatever thought happened to cross your mind, other times answering his endless questions about the Force and the Jedi the best you could. Occasionally, you’d venture to ask him a question or two and usually he found himself compelled to respond. Then there were moments like this one, where an agreeable, easy silence would settle between you as the ship sped across the galaxy.

As he watched your thumb idly stroke the baby’s back, intuitively seeking to soothe him, he realized that in just a few short hours the Crest would drop from hyperspace into the starsystem you suspected held the answers you sought, effectively disrupting this momentary peace, and you’d be one step closer to reuniting with your master. To parting ways with Din and his foundling.

Beneath his helmet, his lips pressed into a slight frown and his eyes fell to the cabin floor.

“What’s wrong?”

His gaze snapped back to your face. Your bright eyes were open now and boring into his visor. It was like you could sense his inner turmoil. Maybe you could.

“Nothing,” he said, cursing the slight edge to his voice. “We’re almost to Vrogas Vas,” he added, shifting the subject away from himself.

“About time,” you said with a sigh of relief. “Are you as excited as I am to finally get off this ship?” you asked, addressing the baby still perched in your lap. He cooed happily in response, his ears lifting curiously at the sound of your voice, before looking across the cabin at Din.

“Yeah, I’m looking forward to it too, kid,” he answered his silent question, ignoring the pit in his stomach.

The Crest broke Vrogas Vas’ atmosphere shortly thereafter. The ship’s readouts indicated that the air was breathable and that was about the only favorable feature of the barren planet. Defined by vast expanses of sepia desert flats and sandy dunes, disrupted only by the occasional bottomless gorge lined with dusty red rocks, it looked practically inhospitable. There was no sign of life – sentient or otherwise.

“How’d you even find this place?” Din asked you.

“Well, the rebels built a refueling base here during the war, but it’s been abandoned as far as I can tell. No need to keep something like that up and running out here,” you explained. “After I discovered the records of the sanctum, I was able to convince an old contact working for the New Republic to share the planet’s somewhat classified coordinates.”

“Somewhat? he asked with an accusatory tilt of his head in your direction. “Let me guess: mind trick?”

“Very funny, but no. Believe it or not some people just like me,” you retorted. “Anyway, I assumed the only reason the Alliance even learned about this planet was because someone knew about the old Jedi temple that used to be here. That kind of information was destroyed or sealed off by the Empire, but someone must’ve remembered from way back when.”

“That what we’re looking for?”

“No, that’s nothing but a pile of rubble now. What we’re looking for is much older than the Jedi.” Without even turning around he could hear the smile on your face; your excitement was palpable. “Legend has it that there’s also an ancient sanctum deeply connected to the Force. Might be why the Jedi also built a temple here. There’s supposed to be some sought after artifact — something powerful and full of the Force — hidden there, and I think that’s what Master Zarichi was looking for.” Suddenly you appeared at his side, leaning over the back of his seat, and you held out your datapad for him to see. “This is the closest estimate I have of the sanctum’s location.”

Nodding, he manually adjusted the ship’s destination, heading south towards one of the larger canyons.

With no safe way to descend into the narrow ravine itself, neither with the ship nor on foot, Din reluctantly put the Crest down in a valley at the mouth of the canyon. By his rough estimate it would take at least a couple of days to trek to the region where you hoped to find this mysterious sanctum.

Assuming it was still there.

Gathering what gear you could carry between you, the three of you set off, trading the security of the Razor Crest for the unknown of Vrogas Vas.

“Well, I wasn’t part of any of the big battles or major victories or anything exciting like that. I joined a smaller band of rebels. We focused on reconnaissance, so we did our best work away from the main action. Aside from information drops and the occasional holo, we never had contact with Alliance leadership.”

The three of you had been walking for a few of hours, following the weak river into the canyon. You’d covered quite a bit of ground in a short amount of time, but the Child had decided he was bored of riding along in his floating carrier. After a few sad chirps, Din acquiesced, letting him toddle alongside the adults, which earned him a snicker form you. The sun was dipping below the horizon to his back and he figured you wouldn’t make it much further that night anyway.

The kid slowed the group’s pace enough to actually hold a conversation, and Din had gotten you to open up about your time in the Rebellion with minimal prompting.

“And your brother?”

“There was a small squadron of X-wing starfighters at our base. And by small, I mean like four X-wings, at the most,” you answered with a laugh. “At first Rhys worked with me but once he started flying it was all he wanted to do. Gods, you should’ve seen the way his face light up the first time he jumped in an X-wing. He loved that more than anything. He appreciated the Force, but he didn’t really have the temperament to really commit to training. He was too hotheaded, too cocky.” You looked away from him and seemed to disappear into yourself. “We tried to stay together as much as possible. But sometimes our missions took us to opposite ends of the galaxy. I wasn’t with him when– when it happened.”

“I think I would’ve liked him,” Din offered. He stopped walking to face you, but you only gave him a rueful smile.

“I think he would’ve liked you too, Mando,” you said more to yourself than him.

He was so focused on the moment, so wrapped up in your stories, that he missed the telltale sound of claws scratching the planet’s stone surface, missed the low, hungry growl.

A blinking red light on his HUD alerted him of the approaching heat signatures at the last minute and he turned on his heel just as an enormous feline-like creature leapt at him.

He ignited his flame thrower just in time.

The predator let out a wailing howl and retreated, only to be flanked by two more, twelve red eyes leering at him in the evening light. The three hulking nexu barred rows of sharp teeth at him, their quills raised like hackles, ready to attack.

“Get the kid,” he barked at you, “On my mark, run and don’t look back.”

Never taking his eyes off the creatures, he listened to your every movement as you tucked the Child back into his carrier and sealed it. He took stock of the pack of nexu, cursing himself for letting his guard down. For putting his foundling and you in danger.

“Ready?” he growled. He carefully watched the leader of the pack take a measured step toward him, it’s forked tailed flicking almost playfully, and he slowly unbuckled the strap of his Amban sniper rifle.

“Yes, but Mando-”

“Go!”

You sprinted off, pushing the hovering carrier to a safe distance, and he fired off his first round, disintegrating the largest nexu. Before he could reload, another one lunged, swiping at his Beskar cuirass with pointed talons. Electrocuting it with the double-ponged end of his rifle, the creature crashed to the ground, momentarily paralyzed, but not without knocking the rifle from his grip with a flailing paw. He hastily unsheathed his vibroblade and stabbed the creature, slicing its thick neck and ending its life.

He grabbed his rifle and turned his focus to the final nexu, freezing when he found the creature thrashing on the ground, gasping for breath. It was as if some invisible force was strangling it to death.

Which meant…

Panicked, he looked back to where you stood guarding the Child’s carrier. Even from a distance he could see your twisted face as you held out a shaky hand in front of you, slowly forming a fist. The creature’s whimpering suddenly ceased behind him, and you fell to your knees. Without even looking back at the animal, already knowing it was dead, Din dropped his weapons and ran to you.

“You okay?” he asked. He knelt next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders to steady you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, leveraging yourself against him as you rose to your feet. “I just- I’m not used to calling upon the darkside like that.”

He wasn’t sure what you meant by that, but he filed it away with his growing list of questions for a better time. He did, however, know that he did not like the sound of you using powers aligned with the darkside of anything. “Why did you do it? I had it under control.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did Mandalorian.” You were still teasing him; you couldn’t have been hurt too badly. “But it was ready to strike. I– I wasn’t going to let that thing kill you,” you added quietly as you ran a finger lightly across his new cuirass, tracing the scratch mark left by the nexu’s claws.

“It’s superficial. It’ll buff out.”

You smirked up at him. “I sure hope so. Wouldn’t want to damage the goods.” Din’s cheeks warmed beneath his visor at your words and your smile vanished, as if you only belatedly realized what you said. You took a step back from him, moving to check on the Child. When you opened the carrier, the baby let out a disgruntled noise as if to say he wasn’t happy being locked away during the action. Din suppressed a sigh and shook his head at him.

“What the hell are nexu doing on this godsforsaken planet?” he wondered, diverting the conversation as he picked up his abandoned gear.

“Vrogas Vas has no native species. Anything here was relocated on purpose, but for what purpose, I have no idea.” He followed your stare back to the two remaining bodies, your eyes lingering on the one he’d killed. “I’m starting to think you were going easy on me the other day, Mando.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

“Thank the maker.”

“C’mon,” he said, turning you away from the bloody scene with a hand on your shoulder. “We’ll keep going, just a little further. We’ll find somewhere safe to camp for the night.”

… . …

It was another hour before Mando declared an alcove next to the canyon wall and away from the river to be a safe spot to set up camp. It provided a bit of extra shelter, but the three of you were still very much exposed to the elements.

You dug out a few portion packs from your satchel and made one for the baby and another for yourself. After a moment of debate, you silently offered a pack to Mando, but he just shook his head and told you he’d take care of the kid. While you ate, he used the remaining fuel in his left vambrace to make a small fire, assuring you he had second flamethrower in his right one, just in case. You knew the Mandalorian was armed from head to toe from the first day you met, but the extent of which still managed to surprise you.

“You’re practically a walking armory,” you goaded, hoping to resume your usual banter. He hadn’t said much since the nexu encounter.

“Why don’t you carry a blaster?” he asked in return. He was tenderly feeding the kid pieces of the reconstituted food, but his tone was rough. That wasn’t the response you expected.

“I’ve used them in the past – they’re good in a pinch, I suppose – but overall I find them…so uncivilized. They’re not for me.”

“You wouldn’t have had to do what you did tonight.”

You made an uncertain noise as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. “Not my preferred weapon of choice, that’s all.”

“What is?”

You opened your mouth to respond but said nothing, a lie dying on your tongue. You found you didn’t want to lie to him, but you couldn’t exactly tell him the truth either. Could you? “Would it make you feel better if I carried a blaster.”

It was his turn to be quiet.

The kid fell asleep almost as soon as he finished eating and Mando put him to bed in his carrier, gently tucking the blankets around his tiny body. Apparently, nighttime was significantly colder than daytime on the desert planet. “You should sleep too,” he suggested quietly as he watched the baby unconsciously settle into his blankets.

“Do you think we’ll be safe here?”

“Of course. I’ll stand watch.” He closed the carrier and turned his gaze to you. “I’ll protect you. Both of you.”

You’d been on your own for so long. No one had made it their duty to keep you safe in years and a warmth washed over you that you knew wasn’t from the flames before you. “Thank you,” you said through a lump in your throat. “Please wake me in a couple hours – I’ll take the second shift. And don’t even try to argue.”

“Deal,” he agreed after a drawn-out moment. “Now get some rest.”

Without another word, you curled up in front of the fire, using your overpacked satchel as a pillow, and drifted off, completely exhausted from the day’s adventures.

Mando made good on his promise and woke you a few hours later, though you suspect he let you sleep longer than you’d asked. You stretched your tired, achy limbs out in front of you and forced yourself into consciousness. Looking around the makeshift camp, you found that the fire had died to nothing more than low embers while you slept and also noticed a third empty portion pack.

“Did you eat?” you asked, your yawn not quite hiding your surprise.

“Yes.”

“You took your helmet off?”

“What do you think?” he replied sarcastically. Your bewildered expression prompted him to continue. “You were asleep.”

“What if–”

“You were out. At one point I thought you died.”

Your jaw dropped at his teasing. “I liked you better before you started making jokes, Mando.”

You weren’t sure why, but you thought he might’ve been smiling. Except, you now realized, you’d been so tired last night when you were eating that you hadn’t put much thought into how meals would work now that the three of you were without the protection of the Crest’s walls. Now, you felt terrible for your lack of consideration. “I could’ve woken up though.”

“Then you would’ve seen me.”

His response, delivered with a disarmingly calm tone, startled you. But before you could ask any more questions, he hauled you to your feet and shoved his Amban rifle in your hands.

Mando gave you a basic rundown on the rifle, showing you how to use the different modes as well as how to reload it. He even made you repeat his instructions back to him before you assured him you would be fine and he’d feel much less paranoid after a few hours of sleep. He scoffed at that, but reluctantly reclined against a boulder.

You thought he was asleep when he spoke again. “What you did earlier– What did you mean when you said you called upon the darkside?”

“Well, the Force allows me to do many things,” you started cautiously, “But some of those powers are more closely aligned with either the light or dark. Anything that hurts another being, comes only from darkness. Even if it is meant well.”

“The kid did that once.”

“Did what?” you asked incredulously, your grip on the rifle tightening.

“Not that,” he sighed, “He thought a friend was hurting me and he– He used the Force to choke her. He might’ve killed her if I hadn’t–” He cut himself off, unable to finish the sentence. “That’s why I have to find the Jedi, so they can help him.”

You wished you could ease his anxieties. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much. He’s young and doesn’t know any better, but he’s learning. The important thing is that you’re doing everything you can to help him, to show him what it means to be good.”

“I’m not–”

“You are,” you assured him, already knowing he was going to deny your assessment of him but desperately hoping he’d believe you, “I know you are.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’m starting too,” you affirmed. An image of the Mandalorian battling the nexu flashed in your mind. You had seen something dark in the bounty hunter as he took on the predators, decimating them with practiced ease as he was trained to do. He was a warrior, that you were certain of, but the man before you was also so much more than that. Even if he didn’t see it in himself. “I know that anyone who cares and protects a child in need like you do is a good man.”

He was quiet for a long time and for a moment you thought he might’ve finally fallen asleep, unable to see his face behind the helmet.

“This is the way,” he mumbled through the vocoder.

Not quite understanding his meaning, you went for something simpler. “Rest, Mando.”

He sighed again as he repositioned himself, folding his hands over his middle. It didn’t take long for his breathing to even out and you heard a quiet, distorted snoring sound coming from beneath his helmet. You smiled to yourself; it’d been a long day for him too, and you were glad he was finally resting.

Your watch was quiet and uneventful, as was the most of the day’s trek. Early on, the canyon valley narrowed drastically and suddenly, and you found yourselves squeezing through tight slot canyons, clambering over fallen boulders twice your size, and occasionally having to wade into the river for lack of dry ground. The hike between the towering red rock walls was much more strenuous than that of the gently sloping valley from the previous day and your progress slowed considerably.

As the sun reached its zenith, violent rust colored clouds closed off the blue sky, shrouding you in an eerie darkness. Still, you continued your steady march forward for a long while after that. You were starting to fear that your companion was unbothered by the change in weather and that he would want to keep going until nightfall. Just as you were about to point out the rapidly cooling air and mounting static charge, Mando stopped short. Your forward momentum nearly sent you crashing into him.

“What the-”

“Look.” He pointed towards two young children playing by the water’s edge, squealing as they splashed each other. It was the older of the two, a young Togruta girl, who noticed your trio first. She offered a tentative wave that you returned, hoping you wouldn’t startle her. Instead she shouted something to her younger friend and the two took off running.

“That was…odd,” you said with a shake of your head. You almost thought you were imagining the girls, but you knew Mando saw them too.

“There must be a village nearby.” He started walking again, the hovering carrier trailing diligently behind him. When you didn’t immediately follow, he looked back at you over his shoulder. “You want to be stuck out here in the rain all night?”

“Nope. Not even a little bit,” you said, jogging to catch up with him.

As you rounded another bend in the canyon, small village set deep into the red rock walls appeared before you. Steps carved into the stone led to dozens of dwellings sculpted from the planet itself. A few people bustled around in anxious excitement over the coming storm, presumably making last minute preparations.

You spotted the children from earlier among them, noticing the little Togtruta tug at the skirts of an older woman. She looked across the river towards you, Mando, and the Child and, waved you over.

“When my granddaughter said there were people approaching our village, I almost did not want to believe her,” she said with a kind smile. “We do not get many visitors here, not these days, but you are very welcome, of course.”

“That is kind of you. We’re very grateful to have found you when we did.”

“Very lucky too. You see, it does not rain often on our desert planet, but you do not want to be caught near the river when it does. We are very happy to offer you shelter until the storm passes.”

Thank you,” Mando said softly and you nodded your agreement.

“My name is Nin’ak, and this Ro.” She gestured to the girl peeking around her legs. “Do not let her sudden bout of shyness confuse you. Just moments ago, she was bursting with excitement at the prospect of guests.”

“Will they stay with us?” she asked, her eyes glued to the baby. He watched the interaction with great curiosity from the safety of his carrier but offered a small wave when the little girl smiled at him.

“Of course,” Nin’ak said to her granddaughter before turning back to you. “You’ll find we do not have much to provide you with, but I can offer warm food and a spare room that should suffice for the two of you and your child.”

“That’s more than enough, thank you.” You noticed Mando didn’t correct her assumption of your relation to each other and for some it ignited a small fire in your belly. You didn’t quite understand the sensation.

“Please, follow me,” she said, extending a hand towards the village.

The first raindrops fall as you ascended the stairs cut-out of the rock wall and ducked into the planet’s interior.

Nin’ak welcomed you into her humble dwelling built into the canyon wall. Ro bounded ahead of you, pointing out all the features of your sparsely furnished but cozy room, her previous bashfulness having disappeared. The young girl excitedly noted the refresher, the cots, the windows, and even demonstrated how to properly use the control panel on the wall.

“Thank you, Ro, I don’t know what I would’ve done without you,” you said, crouching to her level.

“You’re welcome.” She gave you a toothy smile. “Can I play with your baby?”

You looked at Mando over your shoulder, raising your brows in question. He nodded, and the Child squealed when he was freed from his carrier, happily running off after his new friend.

Standing, you moved to the small window overlooking the canyon. It had only been a few minutes since you stepped inside, but the dark clouds unleashed a violent storm on the planet. A torrential rain fell in sheets, pounding against the window and obscuring any view you might’ve otherwise had of the ravine. You felt Mando stand behind you, peering out at the rain through his visor.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen rain like this anywhere,” you mused, in awe of the force of the downpour.

“It only rains a couple times a year, so when it does, it absolutely must rain enough to nourish the whole world for months after,” Nin’ak explained.

“Doesn’t look like it’s doing a very good job at that,” Mando quipped quietly so only you could hear. You elbowed him in the ribs anyway, jabbing him just underneath his armor where you knew there was nothing but soft padding protecting him. You tried to shoot him a look you hoped said please don’t offend the old lady taking care of us, but you were certain he could see the smile you were struggling to hide. You turned back to the old woman, but if Nin’ak noticed your interaction, she didn’t say anything.

“As I said earlier,” she continued, “You are fortunate to have found us when you did. This canyon is known for violent floods – that is why we’ve built our settlement high into the walls above this rare fertile land near the river. It has been months since our last rain. The temperate season just began, you see, and it does not last long. So, I think you are also very fortunate to get to witness one of our beautiful storms.”

“Yeah, real lucky.”

That time you couldn’t stop the snort that escaped you.

Later that night, not long after the evening meal, the raging storm worsened, now accompanied by deafening thunder and bright flashes of lightning. Mando had shuttered the room, blocking out the bolts of lightning, but there was nothing he could do about the thunder and the baby was practically shaking in his floating carrier.

You watched, feeling helpless, as Mando sat on his cot, rocking the carrier with a gentle hand, trying desperately to explain the storm to him, to show him that is was nothing to fear.

After a little while, he realized his current tactic wasn’t going to work. Hoping to soothe the Child, he removed his pauldrons and cuirass before cradling his foundling against the softer fabric covering his chest. You thought your heart might burst at the gesture. The baby nuzzled into the juncture of his neck, and while his trembling finally stopped, he whimpered at every roll of thunder.

“You’re safe ad’ika,” he said softly, murmuring a string of sweet nothings, “I promise you.”

Feeling a strong desire to help, you crossed the room and gingerly sat on the cot next to Mando, searching for his eyes behind the visor, as if asking for permission to be so close to him. He nodded and you placed a gentle hand on the baby.

“I used to be scared of storms when I was little too,” you offered as you stroked the top of his fuzz-covered head and ears. Carefully, he lifted his head from Mando’s chest and looked at you with watery eyes as if just noticing that you’d joined them. One little fisted hand released its grip on Mando’s shirt and reached out towards you. You shifted a bit closer and held out your other hand for him. He grasped it with his three claws and held it to his tiny body, so that your hand rested against Mando’s chest.

Beneath your hand, you could feel the steady, rhythmic beat of the Mandalorian’s heart. You hoped the Child found it as comforting as you did.

Eventually, the thunder subsided just enough that the baby calmed down, and you prayed to whatever gods ruled that planet that the worst of the storm had passed for the night. The kid finally let go of you both and settled in Mando’s lap, leaning against his soft belly. He gurgled up at you and you thought it might’ve been part of a story.

“Is that so?” you asked with raised brows. He blinked up at you and gave a happy, bubbling laugh. You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. Not for the first time, he stretched a small hand out to the crescent moon you wore around your neck. Leaning a bit closer, you let him play with it. “Do you want to know something?” you asked him. You continued without waiting for a response. “This was my mother’s moon. She gave me this necklace so that I would always have a piece of her. So that I would never be scared.”

Fumbling with the collar of his robes, he pulled on a cord wrapped around him that you’d never noticed before. With a cheery coo, he revealed a silver charm to you. You held it between two fingers, running the pad of your thumb over the skeletal creature.

“A mythosaur?” You addressed your question to Mando, and he nodded his confirmation. You handed the charm back to the baby and he stuck it in his mouth.

“I almost died a few weeks ago,” he started, and you felt yourself still at his words. “It was mine, but I gave it to him so the other Mando’ade in my tribe would know he was under my protection and keep him safe when I was gone.”

You didn’t expect any further explanation, but Mando gifted it to you anyway. He went on to tell you the entire story of the battle on Nevarro, and you listened raptly, soaking up his every word. At some point, the kid drifted off to sleep, lulled by the deep baritone of his father’s voice.

Much later, you held the Child while the Mandalorian removed the rest of his armor. It was a strange sight, watching him shed his layer of Beskar, save for the helmet, and part of you felt as though you should’ve averted your gaze, but you couldn’t seem to find the strength to look away. Each piece was set aside with such reverence and the significance of the act of baring himself in this way was not lost on you.

When he finished, he took his tired foundling from your arms and carefully laid back on the cot, mindful not to wake the baby sleeping on his chest.

You turned off the lights, just as Ro had shown you earlier that evening, and crawled into your own cot. You laid facing Mando, though in the dark you were unable to make out more than a vague outline of his body, and were struck by the sudden urge to call out to him.

“Mando?” you whispered.

“Yes?” His voice was heavy, on the verge of sleep.

“Thank you.”

He turned towards you, the pillow crinkling under his helmet. “For what?”

“Everything.”

You didn’t think you needed to clarify. In that moment, you felt at peace. Happy and content for the first time in decades.

You should’ve drifted off to a calm sleep, and maybe you did for a while. But at some point, you started to dream of your past. Although, dream was much too kind of a word. No, those weren’t dreams. They were nightmares.

... . ...

Mando’a Translations

Ad’ika: little one

Mando’ade: Mandalorians (pl) - sons and/ or daughters of Mandalore

... . ...

Thanks for reading!

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fan fiction #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfic #my fic #my writing #fic: the light of stars

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