#Dez is a Mandalorian | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sulphuryasecretcloset · 2 years

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What if... there could be a happy ending? 1/2

Life goes on in the new Mando camp. It’s not without difficulties, things are never easy when Saxons are around, Din has his own challenges with his relationship with Corin, and Dez suddenly finds himself fac ing his biggest challenge yet, but luckily this is the Au where we can eventually have nice things ;)

One of the many things Neleem had not been expecting after getting pregnant are the attacks of manic food cravings. Random, weird and insanely urgent cravings. It is what drives her to the kitchen a good while after insisting that she wanted to rest in bed today, ordering Dez out of the house, and reassuring Dulcy again and again that it was perfectly fine that she and Davarax took the kids (including Dez.) into town for the weekly supply run.

Neleem had thought it would be nice and quiet to have the house all to herself for once. Which it is, by all means, but she had not expected to get hit by those damn cravings after they left and now she's getting increasingly annoyed as she's waddling around in the kitchen and finding nothing to her liking. Sugar. She needs sugar. Now.

Fine. She will just have to waddle into town too.

It's a battle to get her shoes on but Neleem is a fighter and she grabs one of Dez' jackets to put on over her raggedy comfort clothes as she abruptly craves the smell of him in addition to food. She receives what feels like a foot to her ribs and absently rubs her belly in a silent prayer for the child to settle again, before she presses the door opener and wobbles out of the house.

Ever since the arrival of the other Mandalorians, things have been quite lively around this formerly quiet and somewhat shady neighborhood. All the thugs have fled and Neleem barely reacts to the occasional shouting in Mando'a and constant outbreaks of fist-fighting anymore. Whatever. They're just doing their thing. There are more important matters at hand. She tugs Dez' jacket tighter around herself, huffs at the discomfort in so many bodyparts, then trudges towards town and snacks.

Moments later she encounters another experience she did not expect at all.

A small group of Mandalorians are standing on and blocking the path into town, half-heartedly bickering among themselves. Four stern-faced and mean looking warriors, which would have scared her in the past. Luckily now Neleem know they will just ignore her. She's a nobody to them. However, the second she comes close; they lower their gaze and step aside to let her pass.

Frowning confused, Neleem glances at their faces as she walks by but she can't make sense out of what she's seeing there. Some kind of respect? Maybe she's imagining things? Must be.

Moments later, when she is walking down an alleyway between the houses leading to the main merchant store, there is the sound of glass exploding and two Vizlas come tumbling out of a window on the first floor of the house on the left. She's just about to dodge the warriors as they roll towards her, both busy hammering each other with wild punches, when they notice her and instantly break apart, scramble to their feet and step aside to let her pass them. The confused frown on Neleem's face deepens as she walks by them and sees them lowering their gaze as well.

What is going on?

When Neleem first arrived at the Covert with Dez and Liita, the other Vizlas and the rest of Dez' tribe had treated her with indifference and mild dislike. They were not happy that Dez had chosen someone who did not know how to fight and had a fondness for using words. They were never mean, the respect for Dez was too strong for that, but there was no welcome or any kind of friendly gestures. She was an outsider without fighting skills who had burrowed her way into their beloved Dez Vizla's affections, simple as that. Neleem didn't blame them, it's their culture to only respect warriors, and she didn't expect anything to change unless she swore the Creed, which is not unthinkable to her, plus turn into a warrior goddess like Dulsissia. So why are they...?

Her baby doing what feels like backflips inside her belly combined with a sharp stab of cravings distracts Neleem from the weird behavior of these Mandalorians and she determinedly waddles on towards where she knows she can get sugar cakes.

The door to the store slides open as she approaches it and a man she vaguely remembers as one of Dez' blood relatives is about to exit, but at the sight of her; he instantly steps aside, keeps his hand on the doorframe to prevent the door from sliding shut and lowers his gaze respectfully as he waits for her to enter so he can leave without getting in her way.

Weird. Definitely weird! But, her eyes sees the sugar cakes piled up on a plate behind the counter at the other end of the store so Neleem waddles on as she knows what to prioritize. Weird can wait, stuffing her face is what is important right now.

She's halfway through her fifth cake when a familiar voice speaks her name.

“Neleem? Sweetie, what are you-” Dulsissia doesn't finish her question because she can already see the answer. It is made quite obvious by the sprinkling of sugar and crumbs around her mouth and all over her upper torso. “Ah.” She remembers that feeling. Cravings are not to be taken lightly when you're already battling through those final months before the baby arrives.

Chewing, Neleem has her mouth too full to say much.

“Neleem?” A second voice can be heard from the armory connected to the store and soon heavy stomps warn them of his arrival. Dez looks quite startled at the sight of Neleem there and he stalks over to her. “What are you doing here?”

Swallowing down what is probably a cake and a half, Neleem's eyes narrow slightly. “I wanted sugar cakes.”

“So?” Dez gestures towards where Davarax and the kids are now emerging from the armory as well. They huddle behind Dulsissia and stare curiously at them. “You could have just messaged my vambrace. Or them. And we would have brought them to you.”

Neleem's eyes now flare with defiance and she absently licks her lips to catch the final sugar crystals and cake crumbs before wiping her mouth with her arm and then lifting her hand to poke a finger at his chest. “I'm pregnant. I'm not sick. I'm not helpless. I can do what I want and I don't need your permission. Got that?”

To her surprise, Dulsissia sees the effect her sharp tone has on the man. His gaze instantly flicks away from Neleem while his entire body tenses up. It's like he's bracing for something. Strangely enough it reminds her of her family’s fathiers' behavior back on Seswenna before she learned how they were treated and consequently banned the use of whips in the Motti stables.

Neleem must also see it because she drops her small bag with cakes, her eyes well up with tears, and she flings her arms around Dez in a fierce hug. “I didn't mean that! I didn't mean to sound like... her. I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!”

Now Dez looks confused as well as anxious. He awkwardly pets her back.

Fighting back a slight smile, Dulsissia looks over at Davarax, finds him taking his usual delight in seeing Dez off-balance, catches her husband's attention and gives a faint nod towards Dez with a meaningful look. Davarax' amusement turns into a grin, but he nods as he understands what she's planning and he's ready to play his part. Good man. Excellent man. She loves this man. Her man.

“I'm sorry!” Neleem wails.

“It's... fine.” Dez mumbles, still painfully awkward. “You're right. You can do whatever you want, of course. I didn't-”

“But you didn't mean it like that, I know!” Neleem is outright bawling by now. “I'm sorry!”

As every single soul in the store, known and unknowns alike, are now gawking and Dez looks like he's about to panic, Dulsissia strolls over to them. “Neleem, sweetie...” She picks up the bag with the sugar cakes before prying Neleem's arms loose from Dez and turning her to face her instead. “Listen, why don't you and I head back to the house and we can eat some more sugar cakes on the way?”

Neleem forgets about crying and her eyes fixates on the bag in Dulsissia's hand like a predator, but then hiccups and sends Dez a mournful look. “But-”

“Don't worry about this guy.” Davarax chirps, throwing an arm around Dez' shoulders and squeezes him tight. “Me and him, we got some manly stuff to talk about.”

Dez sneers at Davarax but keeps quiet as he is probably worried he'll set Neleem off again if he speaks.

“But the shopping?” Neleem sniffles, ogling the sugar cake bag again.

“I can do that.” Corin pipes up with utter glee.

Dulsissia sends him an admonishing look. “Fine, but don't you haggle too much, baby. Remember, the store people have to make a living too. If you flirt so much that you get free stuff again. I will ground you. I don't care how old you are.”

Corin slumps. “Aww, mom, you take all the fun out of things.”

“Every one free item means one week of no training and no going into town.” Dulsissia warns him.

“Fiiiine.” Corin drawls, but the spark in his eyes ruins his act. He still looks far too excited about the idea of haggling for stuff than most people would.

Dulsissia notes how annoyed Din looks, but she doesn't get the chance to comment as Neleem is pawing at the sugar cake bag and she decides she'll have to deal with Din later. “Here you go, sweetie.” She manages to pry out a cake and hands it to Neleem before she guides her in the direction of the exit. “I saw some lovely montral jewelry at the marked in town yesterday. You would look absolutely dazzling wearing it.”

“You think so?” Neleem asks, mouth filled with cake and words filled with cautious delight. “I mean, I'm set to pop next month, it's probably no point to waste credits on-”

“Nonsense.” Dulsissia declares in a loud voice as the door slides shut behind them. “I'll head back to the marked tomorrow and see if I can buy them. If something brings you joy in life, it's never a waste of anything, sweetie.”

The second the door closes behind Neleem and the blonde witch, Dez shoves Davarax away and all he can think about is how it had never occurred to him to notice, much less buy, jewelery for his wife. Neleem is right; buying stuff like that is a waste of credits. Anything not armor or a weapon is pointless as a gift, it is insulting to a Mandalorian, yet... Dez stares at the shut door and his stomach burns anxiously as he wonders if he has failed miserably as a husband yet again. He's been quite confident in the bond between him and Neleem, but the anger in her voice just now had sounded awfully like how Skade used to talk to him. He'd made Skade hate him, is he doing the same with Neleem? Already? Is Dez Vizla that much of a bastard?

“Flowers.” Davarax whispers Dez' ear.

Startled, Dez ducks away and then straightens abruptly as his pride snarls and he glares at the grinning Davarax. “Have you lost your mind?”

Huffing a laugh, Davarax gestures for him to calm down. “No. Listen: Dulcy loves flowers, so I give her flowers because I love her and want to see her happy. It was your son, actually, who was clever enough to realize that coming from two different worlds means it is wise to do a little research into Outsider culture. What we, proud Mandalorians, might consider... silly, can be meaningful to others. As our ways might seem brutish to them who are not trained in seeing the beauty of strength and battle.” He pats Dez' shoulder. “Do your research, buddy.”

Swallowing hard, Dez can only manage a faint nod. He's doomed to ruin this marriage, isn't he? By being his usual stupid, egotistical self. And then, by losing her, he's also going to lose his second child, the one he has even yet to hold in his arms but loves every bit as much as Paz. The thought is unbearable! He... He won't survive that. The intense dread of such a possible future brings a dull ache to his gut and a wave of nausea rolls through him. However, he's soon snapped out of it.

Once Neleem and Dulcy leave the entertainment is over and people start moving around in the shop and talk amongst themselves again. A group of three Mandalorians pass by Dez and Beskar Boy and there is one of them who makes sure to slam his shoulder into Davarax, foring him to take a step to the side to keep his balance. Instantly alert, Dez frowns as he watches the culprit, Shezmu Saxon, the oldest of Sobek and Furyan's offspring, move on while he laughs with smug satisfaction at his deed. The other two, his brother Sioben one of them, looks both impressed and inspired. That is not good. And quick glance over at Davarax finds him unfazed and that is even worse. Dez taps in a message on his vambrace and sends it. Idiots. He's surrounded by idiots. At least this is one thing he can do something about.

Finishing his reasons for heading into town, Dez braces himself and heads back home to Neleem. He's strangely nervous, unsettled by her earlier behaviour, but is quickly relieved and reassured when he finds her happy, covered in cake crumbs and acting like her old self again. He makes a silent vow to do better. She doesn't want flowers, he knows that, but he will find something that will make her smile and forgive his mistakes instead of ending up hating him.

Curled up together on the bed, Neleem has an arm around his waist and she hugs him tight with a soft hum of satisfaction. “Stop thinking, you big oaf.” She presses a kiss to his neck. “I love you.”

There is so much he has to figure out, make right and find solutions to, Dez shouldn't allow himself the luxury of relaxing, but... Her holding him like this, so close, so warm, it's impossible to resist. It doesn't matter that Dez' brain tells him he shouldn't, his body simply relaxes and warm devotion spreads through his veins. How can something his father told him is weak, is wrong, feel so right?

Shezmu will have to wait. Besides, Dez needs to speak to Raga first about the message he sent her earlier and confirm what he suspects is going on before he can set things into motion.

Closing his eyes, Dez exhales and lets go of his worries for the night. He places a kiss by Neleem's temple and, after months of being told that he's allowed, places his hand on her stomach where he can feel the movements of their eternally restless child. He allows himself to be happy.

“Baby, I warned you...” Dulsissia says, observing the big display of goods placed on her kitchen counter. She stands with her hands on her hips and a frown on her face. There is no way the credits they'd brought to town yesterday would have been enough to cover this.

“Relax, mom.” Corin grins. “I got nothing for free.” He sitting by the breakfast table, Din on his right and Davarax on his left, and looks far too pleased with himself to have not been up to any mischief. Nemi is still asleep and so is probably Paz, Raga, Barthor, Neleem and Dez too, as they have yet to join them this very early morning.

Dulsissia had planned to set up an extra fancy breakfast for everyone to celebrate the fact that Zev'sonya sent a message that she, Mose and Leo will returning home today, but this sight is making her uneasy. The town, the merchant included, is not a rich one. They can't afford to give away food for free. No matter how much her son smiles at them. “There is no way you paid for all of this, baby.”

Corin shrugs. “I paid for every single thing.”

“He haggled it down to basically a quarter credit for each bundle.” Din mutters, arms crossed and staring at the table.

“But I paid for them.” Corin crows.

Dulsissia turns and sends him a stern look, about to give the smug youngster a proper talking to, when Davarax huffs a laugh and pats Corin's shoulder.

“Clever boy.” Davarax grants the grinning Corin. “You could have been a politician.” He pats his shoulder one more time. “No training for a week for you, though.”

“What?” Corin sits up straight, all surprise and disbelief. “Why? I didn't get anything for free!”

“You're right.” Davarax replies, resting his hand on Corin's shoulder now. “So your mother can't ground you for disobeying.” He smiles and gives the shoulder a squeeze. “But I can put you on the bench for a week for being a smart-ass.” Then finishes with poking a stern finger at Corin's temple. “And don't do that to your mother again, son. She deserves better.”

That does deflate Corin's smugness and Dulsissia feels torn between pity for her son and fierce love for her husband.

Corin gets up and shuffles over to stand in front of her with head held low and regret in his heart. “I'm sorry, mom.”

Dulsissia instantly pulls him close and hugs him tight. She can't stand to see her sweet boy unhappy. “It's okay, baby. I know you didn't mean anything mean by it. We can always send some of it back.”

Din and Corin dutifully picks up the things she chooses to go back to the store, but when they leave to do the delivery she is reminded of what she wondered about yesterday as she sees the sullen expression on Din's face. She waits until it is just her and Davarax in the kitchen before speaking. “Sweetie?”

“Mmh?” Davarax looks over at her.

“What's up with Din?” Dulsissia walks over to sit down next to him. “He looked very unhappy yesterday. I meant to talk to him but then the thing with Neleem happened and I got distracted and I kind of forgot about it, which is horrible of me, I know, but he looks every bit as unhappy today and I'm worried there is something wrong. Do you know what's bothering him?”

To her relief and confusion, Davarax huffs his trademark laugh and leans back in his chair. “Corin. Corin is bothering him.”

Dulsissia frowns and shakes her head. “How? Those two are all about each other.”

Humming amused, Davarax reaches over and takes her hand in his to braid their fingers to comfort and reassure her. “Yeah, and that's why he's so tied up in knots.” When that does nothing to ease her confusion, he lifts her hand to his lips before explaining further. “Corin is a very good looking boy and he delights in flaunting and taking advantage of that. He's smart. Din lacks his confidence.”

“But...” Dulsissia stutters. “Why would Din...”

Davarax kisses her hand again. “Listen, every single one of your 'babies' are good looking, several of them know it too. However, the two who do their best to appear toughest and most confident are the ones who thinks the least of their own appearance. Din and Paz.”

“What?” Dulsissia struggles to believe what she just heard. Din 'and' Paz? The sharp shooter and the strong one, both handsome and brave, how is that possible?

Leaning back in his chair, Davarax shrugs one shoulder. “They might be impressive fighters but they're still young men. Confidence comes with age and we'll back them up until then.”

Dulsissia gives a firm nod, already making a battle plan. She will not tolerate her babies not seeing how wonderful they are. “Din worships you, he'll be your target. I'll handle Paz. He's a giant softie around me.”

Huffing a laugh, Davarax sits up again and reaches out to tuck a golden lock of her hair behind Dulsissia's ear before trailing a touch along her jawline with soft adoration. “Have I told you I love you lately?”

A blushing heat rises in her cheeks and Dulsissia lowers her eyelashes in a shy but also slightly coy move as she smiles at him. “Not since we woke up this morning...”

“Mmh...” Davarax leans over and starts kissing his way up her neck. “That's far too long ago...”

Back in the kitchen after returning the goods Corin had tricked from that stupid shop-keeper that uses any stupid excuse he can conjure up to place his hands on Corin every damn time he steps foot inside that stupid store, Din sits back down by the breakfast table while Corin joins his mother, now with Nemi on her hip, by the kitchen counter to help her prepare this grand breakfast of hers.

Corin had been strangely quiet the entire way to and back from the store, clearly worried his mother was still angry with him for his little stunt. However, judging by Dulcy's cheerful tone as she speaks with her son, Din decides it is safe to bet that she's forgiven him already. Dulcy tends to do that. It's why Din likes her. She's grown strong over the years since they arrived at the Covert, but she's never lost her gentle heart.

During their absence from the kitchen, Paz, Raga and Barthor had emerged from their rooms and Din makes sure to sit at the opposite end of the table, away from them and their bickering. (Well, Raga and Barthor's bickering, as Paz sits leaning forward with his right elbow on the table, head resting in his hand and eyes closed, most likely asleep.)

“How are you holding up, kid?” Davarax' voice says as the man sits down next to Din.

Hardly a kid anymore, Din would have pointed out to anyone else using those words, but... Davarax calling him that has a ring of paternal fondness in it and it allows Din to continue hoping that he does think of him as something of a son. Din shrugs and keeps his focus on Corin's back. “I'm fine.”

Davarax hums, as if he isn't entirely convinced. “You know he doesn't mean anything by it?”

Din twitches, unprepared for that topic, and he glances over at the man next to him. Of course Davarax had noticed. Din never could keep anything hidden from him. “I know.” He does not doubt Corin's loyalty or heart for one second. He just worries that Corin might realize that he deserves to be with someone as beautiful as himself.

“Did I ever tell you...” Davarax drawls with a faint smile of amusement. “That I was one absolutely hideous teenager?”

Snorting a surprised laugh, Din turns his full attention to Davarax. “What?” That has to be a lie. No way. Davarax has countless souls turning to stare after him, with hunger or longing or both, whenever he walks through a crowded place.

“It's true.” Davarax insists, still with a smile. “I'm told I was a cute child, but as a teenager I turned into a weird creature; a boy taller than most, with staw-thin limbs, big joints and a tiny head.”

Din huffs a laugh and clears his throat in an effort to cover it up so Davarax doesn't think he was copying him on purpose. “That doesn't sound hideous.”

Davarax sighs and the amusement is replaced with affection. “In my own eyes, I was nowhere near as good looking as everyone else around me. It took me a long, long time to stop thinking about myself like that. It's strange how hard we can be on ourselves, even when there is no reason to be, huh?”

Hesitating, Din sends Corin's back a quick glance before staring at the table instead. “Half the town wants to marry him and they all would kill to get their hands on him.”

Davarax bumps his shoulder against Din's and smirks. “If you smiled and shamelessly batted your eyelashes like he does all the time, they'd be clawing at your door too.”

Din ducks his head down as his face burns and he snorts a laugh. He can't picture himself doing that. No. Not ever.

“Also, remember; it's your face he likes. They mean nothing to him.” Davarax points out. “The magic he spins on others, you spin on him.”

Oh. That lands heavily inside Din's chest and he glances over at Corin again. He really does claim to love Din's looks and it certainly feels like it when they are having their make-out sessions Interesting...

Lost in his thoughts, scheming away, Din barely notices Neleem and Dez' entry into the kitchen.

Davarax gets up, unable to hide his grin as he's extremely pleased with the sneaky fire in Din's eyes. He decides to head out and check if Zev'sonya has sent any more messages to give them the hour of their arrival. He side-steps Neleem beelining towards Dulsissia and Corin, notes that Raga had stopped bickering with Barthor and now stands talking to Dez by the doorway.

Dez says something and Raga nods with a slight smile before moving back to sit down next to Paz again and Davarax does the mistake of thinking he can just walk out of the room and not have insanity thrown at him. He's wrong.

Dez steps forward and blocks his way, forcing Davarax to stop, and his eyes are stern. “I want you to beat the shit out of Shezmu Saxon.”

Blinking, Davarax exhales a startled laugh. “Excuse me...?”

“You heard me.” Dez states. There are no signs of him joking. “Today would be best.”

“No!” Davarax blurts out with no small amount of distaste and he takes a step back to create some distance between them in case the insanity is contagious. “What's gotten into you?”

“He needs to be put in his place.” Dez states with a touch of anger. “He's been walking around bad-mouthing you. He's making the clan doubt your strength. The little display at the store yesterday is just the beginning, an attack on your dignity after attacking your name for months, you need to stop him before he does more damage.”

Davarax isn't surprised. Other than Raga, the Saxons never did like him. “Listen.” He pats Dez' shoulder. “I'll talk to him. Okay?”

“It's too late.” Dez growls. “A year ago, maybe your fancy words could have seeped into that thick skull of his, but talking is pointless now. He's a Saxon, stubborn and proud like the rest of them, and he's talked too highly of himself and bad-mouthed you for too long to do anything but take you on.”

“Then you talk to Sobek. She'll listen to you. You two always had this weird bond over Pre and Gar.”

Dez scoffs. “That would only confirm to them the idea that you're too weak to defend yourself.”

“I'm not beating up a kid!” Davarax snarls.

“He's 22, he's not a child!” Dez snarls back.

Davarax starts to turn away, does not want to hear this, but Dez grabs his arm and forces him to keep facing him.

“Listen!” Dez orders in a tight voice. “He's turning them against you and you have to stand up for yourself to make them respect you. This is no joke. Your sister and your friends aren't here to keep them in check and they've been dying to make you eat dirt for decades.”

“Kind of like you.” Davarax mumbles, but with no real ire.

Dez hesitates, then steps closer as he stares at the floor and lowers his voice. “You helped me reconnect with Paz. When Neleem asked if I wanted to have a kid with her and I freaked out, you... you were...” His voice trails off, obviously can't get himself to speak soft words like 'you were kind to me', and Dez keeps staring at the ground with a frown before he tries again. His gaze lifts and looks into his. Dez only says two words, but he cautiously lowers his defenses in them: “Trust me.”

Stunned, Davarax opens and shuts his mouth. He doesn't know what to say. Davarax grew up with others seeking his company, but this is the first time he senses someone cares about 'him' and not the status he could bring them. “Okay...” He eventually whispers. Because he does trust Dez Vizla.

There is a brief flicker of relief on Dez' face and he gives a curt nod. “Good. I'll tell him you will meet him in the training pit at a set time. I will message you when.” He stomps over to check up on his son, who looks somewhat startled at the sudden third degree he gets about his training.

Raga looks over at Davarax and gives him a cunning look while raising her eyebrows with glee.

So, she knows. That's why Dez was talking to her. She's clearly fine with the idea.

Now he just have to explain it to Dulcy...

Walking over to the kitchen counter, Davarax melts at the happy smile Nemi gives at the sight of him, his perfect little girl, perched on Dulcy's hip. While his wife is still busy gossiping with Neleem, he steals a couple of kisses from Nemi's chubby hands and he plants raspberries on her adorable face, before he forces himself to remember he has a very important conversation to have. “Corin, can you take your sweet sister for a moment. Neleem, can you excuse us? I need to talk to Dulcy.”

Instantly alert, Dulcy sends him a worried look and hesitates before handing over the girl to an equally worried Corin while a big-eyed Neleem makes her way over to Dez. “What's wrong?” Dulcy asks.

Waiting until Corin has found a seat next to Din, trying to entertain Nemi and spy on them at the same time, Davarax takes a deep breath and tells Dulcy that he's basically just agreed to beat up Raga's oldest brother.

Her brow instantly furrows as Dulcy is, of course, not pleased.

Two hours later, Dulsissia is trying to accept that Dav has to enter a fight because Shezmu Saxon is a bad mannered brat. She had tried to appeal to Dez, them fighting is just stupid, but he had ignored her for as long as he could stand before he spun around with a frustrated huff and sharp eyes to say; “What you need to realize, you spoiled little rich girl; the Mandalorians who stayed in the Covert? Those are the ones who you could use your words on. Me, my clan, your new friends? We are not the good guys. And we do things differently. This is The Way. The true Way.”

Dulcy knows Dez is exaggerating, is trying to provoke her as always, but she also knows that he is right about how they do things differently and while she may not like it, she may have to accept it.

Anger and fear war inside her skull as Dulcy tries to keep her mind in the present while she watches the rusty, old ship that brings her babies back to her touch ground outside of town and settles with a tired exhale of smoke.

Zev'sonya is a restless soul, driven by her anger at her past, and when she needs to spread her wings; Mose and Leo always go with her. Dulsissia suspects the boys don't share her restlessness and need for adventure but wherever she goes, they always go with her. It's really sweet of them. And comforting, as Zev'sonya has a horribly bad habit of getting into trouble with her impulsive decisions.

Leo is the first to walk down the ramp and greets them all with a grin as bright as sunshine itself. It's hard to believe the boy was deathly sick not too long ago; he is radiating health and strength now. He engulfs Dulsissia in an enthusiastic hug. “Dulcy-mama, goddess of life and the best cookies I've ever had the good fortune to eat, I've missed you, have you missed me, how are you, are you doing good, you look good, it's good to be back.”

She hugs him back, savors that he feels as strong and healthy as he looks. “It's good to see you, baby. Everything go okay?”

Leo snorts a laugh, sends her a mysterious look, then simply turns to focus on Davarax and Nemi.

“Dav, my man, looking as handsome as ever, which is not fair to the rest of us. And, Nemi, my princess, look at you! You're such a big girl now! Come to uncle Leo!”

Dulsissia wants to demand an explanation for that look, but Nemi giggles so happily and instantly moves from her father's arms and into Leo's instead, so she decides to wait and not ruin the moment. Besides, Zev'sonya is walking down the ramp and Dulsissia is relieved to see she too is unharmed at least.

“Welcome home, baby.” Dulsissia declares and spread her arms out; a visible hope of a reunion hug. She knows Zev'sonya is still adjusting to her tactile ways so she never insists on hugging her but rather gives her the choice and respects her decision with no sour feelings the times when the answer is 'no'. This makes it even more wonderful when Zev'sonya, clearly in a good mood today, manages a faint smile and walks voluntarily into the hug and even returns it for a brief moment.

“Hey, Dulcy.” She mumbles, trying to sound it wouldn't matter to her whether Dulsissia was there to greet her or not. She fails miserably.

It's sad that the girl still expects them to suddenly turn on her, but it is understandable as her own parents couldn't be bothered to protect her from that vile man who wanted to put his hands on a twelve year old child.

First there was Leo's mysterious facial expression, now Zev'sonya moves over to give a pleasantly surprised Davarax a one armed hug and Dulsissia is feeling a bit uneasy until she sees Mose standing at the top of the ramp with thick ropes of drool hanging from his mouth and real fear sets in. Something is 'definitely' wrong!

“Get down here, baby.” Dulsissia orders, wishing her voice didn't sound so shaky. He only drools when he's anxious. “Wipe your face, give me a hug, then tell me what's wrong and we'll handle it. Okay?”

Davarax instantly looks up from whatever he and Zev'sonya were talking about, Leo hides his facial expression by leaning in to rest his lips against Nemi's temple and he watches with secretive green eyes as they all stare when Mose slowly makes his way down the ramp.

Is he injured? Dulsissia can't help but to notice that Mose has his arms crossed and he's moving very cautiously. Had someone hurt her baby then all she needs is a name and they'll be taught why that is a VERY bad idea. Whomever had messed around and discovered that Hutt blood is twice as potent as spice, she hopes that soul rots somewhere painful. Those horrible cretins who kidnapped Mose and stole blood from him were lucky it was Davarax and Dez who came after them.

Mose comes to a halt in front of them, but he doesn't speak. He merely looks down.

Before Dulsissia can ask, Zev'sonya moves over to stand next to him. “Mose. Show them.”

There is a moment of hesitation, then Mose unfolds his arms and gingerly shifts what he's been holding so they can see what he is hiding.

Davarax frowns. “Is that...?”

“A huttlet? Yeah.” Zev'sonya replies with a touch of sharpness, clearly expecting a fight.

Dulsissia stares at the shapeless green lump, thinks maybe she can spot a blotch of fawn coloring but it is difficult to tell as the huttlet is doing its best to curl up into a ball. She's never seen a huttlet before. She had no idea they were this small. It's the size Nemi was at seven or eight months.

“Explain.” Davarax says.

“There was a fight between a hutt and some smugglers. The hutt lost.” Zev'sonya replies defiantly. “When the smugglers saw the huttlet, they were going to kill it. We decided they needed to die instead.”

Dulsissia reaches out and places a gentle hand on the green hide. She feels the huttlet flinch. “It's okay, sweetie. You're safe here.” Her heart aches as the little one unfolds a tiny bit and a bleary amber eye peers up at her. Poor little thing. “He-” Dulsissia blinks. “She? He or she?”

“She.” Mose replies quietly.

“She looks exhausted.” Dulsissia says, carefully rubbing her thumb over the green hide and notes that it feels too dry. Dehydrated? “Is she sick?”

“Huttlets don't handle stress well.” Mose explains in a quiet voice. “They hide in their parents pouch until they are about fifty years. Stress can kill them.”

“Can she can stay here with us?” Zev'sonya shoots in.

“Of course.” Dulsissia replies, just as Davarax says; “It's not that easy.”

Sending her husband a sharp look, Dulsissia forces her voice calm so not to scare the huttlet. “What do you mean?” Sure, she had been as startled as Davarax to find a hutt on their doorstep when Zev'sonya brought Mose home the first time, but hasn't he proven that even hutts deserve a chance?

Davarax lifts his hands in a gesture of surrender. “I have no problem with her staying, Dulcy. You know I would never turn my back on a child in trouble.” He lowers his hands yet his eyes are solemn. “But we're also surrounded by a bunch of other mandalorians with bad tempers and severe impulse control issues.”

“You said it yourself; she's a child in trouble.” Dulsissia counters. “Surely they can't have a problem with her staying?”

“Hutts are rarely welcome anywhere.” Mose mumbles. “Most considers killing a huttlet as sparing the Galaxy from a future villain.”

Dulsissia draws a slow breath as she fights against the intense anger flaring up inside her. She runs her hand over the hide again, gentle and soothing, and feels another ache in her heart as she hears the huttlet let out a tiny, anxious cheep. “No one is harming this baby, Mose. I give you my word.”

“And mine.” Davarax says, reaching out and giving Mose's shoulder a couple of light pats. He then looks over at Dulsissia. “And I don't think they will actively harm her as long as she's a baby... But unless we want to constantly be on our guard, you know who's word we need.”

Dulsissia sighs, knowing there is absolutely no way to know if he will be on their side or not. She's given up on trying to predict his behavior. “We need to talk to Dez.”

Corin flops down on the ground and groans. That's it. He's tapping out.

“Corin, get your face out of the dust. You got twelve left.” Dez' voice orders. The man is a tyrant. Thank the gods that he only gets to order them around once, twice at the most, each week. It is to give Davarax some time off and reassure Dez that Paz hadn't turned away from the Vizla techniques, but unfortunately it also means that Corin, Din, Raga, Barthor and occasionally Liita get put through the same grueling training as Paz.

“I can't.” Corin whines. “It hurts.” It doesn't, but he's a bit tired and not in the mood to do push ups. “Davarax says to stop if it hurts.”

“Do you see Davarax here?” Dez asks in a hard voice. “Twelve more, Corin. Now.”

This is so not fair. Corin lifts his head and looks over at Din, expecting to see sympathy but finding his gorgeous boyfriend doing push-ups with a stern look of concentration on his face instead. In fact, now that he's looking around, Corin finds Paz, Barthor and Raga doing the exact same thing. No help to be had from them, it seems. Corin wishes his mother was here. She'd stop the training right away and let Corin curl up on the sofa with snacks and sweet lemonade. “Two. I can do two more.”

“Twelve.” Dez walks over and soon hovers next to him with arms crossed and no mercy in his eyes. “Or do you want to make it fifteen?”

Groaning, Corin plants his hands against the ground and starts counting down the accursed push ups. Fine. Vizla wins today. But one day he will find a way to make Dez bend to his will too...!

Lucky for Corin, he only has to do three push ups before Dez makes an annoyed sound, looks at his own vambrace and pushes a button on it. Everyone pauses to stare as a small holo of Davarax flickers into being to hover over Dez' arm.

“Dez, I'm over by the landing area. Zev'sonya and the others are back. Get over here, I need to talk to you.”

Dez frowns. “No.” And he shuts down the holo with a stab of his finger. (No mystery where Paz inherited his bad manners from.)

Sitting up, Corin looks over at Din, sees him and the others are sitting up as well and staring at Dez.

“Stop sitting there gawking at me and-” Dez starts, before he exhales angrily at a loud beeping sound. He stabs his finger at his vambrace again. The mini-holo of Davarax appears again.

“Don't you hang up on me, Dez Vizla.” Davarax warns him. “If you hang up on me again, I will fly over and drag you back here with my own two hands.”

Dez' eyes flashes with anger. “I would like to see you try.” He growls.

“Would you?” Davarax asks, eerily calm and hard as Beskar.

Dez hesitates, probably thinking about the mortifying humiliation it would bring to have Davarax appear and drag him by the scruff to the landing area. He lets out a sharp exhale. “Fine.” He grits out. “I'm on my way.”

Corin struggles not to laugh and gets up on his feet as Dez stalks off. Next to him, Din's eyes shine with laughter as well and Corin sticks his chin out towards the landing area in a silent question. They should go see what is so important that Davarax orders Dez to join them?

Din nods with a smug smile. Behind him, Paz and Raga exchange looks and smirks as well. Barthor's t-visor is locked on Dez' back and his helmet tilts a bit to the left in a visibly curious gesture. It looks like they're all going then.

Corin cheerfully follows the others towards the landing site. Aside from finding out what is going on with Davarax and Dez, this means Corin will be meeting Leo again. He's missed him and his cheerful presence. Din has probably missed Zev'sonya, as those two connected on day one and have their own special kind of (weird) friendship based on minimal amount of words and a comfortable silence. And everyone will be pleased to see Mose again. His kidnapping had given them quite a shock as it had seemed impossible for someone to hurt their big friend.

Following Dez, ignoring the brief scowl he shoots back at them when he realizes they are trailing after him, they all march along until they reach the spot where Davarax and the others are waiting and Corin waves eagerly when he spots Leo, who is currently holding Nemi but waves back with his free hand just as eagerly.

“I'm here.” Dez growls, stomping over to stand in front of Davarax, looming close enough to invade his personal space and be obnoxious. “What do you want?”

Din sighs as he watches Corin and Leo embrace and coo over the giggling Nemi perched on Leo's left arm. It looks a little too much what he wants for his and Corin's future and a dark part of his heart growls at someone else taking his place in that picture. “Your boyfriend looks happy to be reunited with his boyfriend.” Din drawls, coming to a halt next to Zev'sonya.

She hums thoughtfully and crosses her arms as she watches the two. “Will you marry me if those two elope together?”

Din shrugs. “Sure.” She's the only one who dares to joke with him like this and it's nice.

They exchange looks and wry grins before Davarax' voice grabs their attention.

“We need you to guarantee the safety of a new Foundling, Dez.” Davarax says.

Dez looks as confused as Din feels at those words. Of course a Foundling would be safe with them. Mandalorians look after their Foundlings with their lives. Why would Davarax ask him that?

“Show him.” Dulcy says, touching Mose's arm.

Now that Din shifts his focus to Mose, he sees how tense he appears and how his arms are not crossed in a defiant way as Din had originally thought but is rather cradling something.

Something which is revealed as Mose shifts his arm and moves it into sight; a small green bundle.

Dez blinks. “Is that...?”

“A huttlet. Yeah.” Davarax confirms in a gentle voice, as if not to scare the newcomer. “Her parent was killed and now she needs a safe place to stay.”

Everyone is instantly curious and Din's quick reflexes secures him the spot closest to Mose before Paz and the others gather around and block the view. And what a view it is; Din has never seen a huttlet before and he's a bit surprised to discover they are... cute. The huttlet is curled up in Mose's arms, but eventually she unfolds enough to lift her head and peek back at them over her shoulder. Her eyes are gorgeous, big and with complicated patterns with different shades of yellow, but also filled with heartbreaking anxiety. She is genuinely scared.

Din wants to reassure her that she's safe. He realizes that he will shoot anyone who tries to hurt this little Foundling. She's family now.

“We're Mandalorians. We don't hurt kids.” Dez mumbles, tilting his head as he studies her.

“Including huttlets?” Mose asks in a quiet voice. He knows only too well how Hutts are so hated in the Galaxy that they are simply considered dangerous vermin that should be exterminated on sight.

Dez gets a stern expression on his face. “I will let them know she is not to be touched or disrespected. Like you. She'll be safe here.”

Davarax and Dulcy are visibly relieved. Zev'sonya too. While Paz beams with pride as he looks over at his father. Din, however, still can't take his eyes off the huttlet.

“Can I...?” Din asks, getting Mose's attention. “Can I hold her?”

“She's very scared, baby.” Dulcy explains with soft compassion.

“Yeah, no, I get that.” Din says. “I just...” She keeps peeking back at him and her gaze lingers longer and longer. There is now a hint of curiosity alongside her fear. “Can I try?”

Mose looks back and forth between Din and the huttlet a couple of times before he slowly leans over and gingerly eases her over into Din's arms.

The huttlet looks a bit startled and lets out a worried cheep before she squirms to lean away from Din and starts reaching for Mose.

“It's okay.” Din tries to reassure her. “You're okay.” And when his words seem to do nothing to calm her, he does what always worked on him as a kid; Din starts humming the lullaby Davarax had hummed to him on board the Razor Crest to help him sleep as they traveled to the Covert for the very first time. Din loves this song. It's the most soothing melody he knows.

The huttlet cheeps anxiously again, reaching desperately for Mose, but her gaze keeps darting back to Din as he continues the song and eventually she slowly sinks back into his arms and merely stares up at him as she's utterly mesmerized by his voice.

Din has to force himself to keep humming, she's so cute he can barely stand it, but he has to steal a glance over at Corin and continuing to sing is twice as hard when he sees him watching them with a beautiful smile on his lips and an absolutely devastating warmth in his eyes. It's like he wants that future for them too?

Hours later, any and all happiness is gone.

“Are you sure about this, honey?” Dulcy asks, worried and distracted at the same time, waiting for Davarax and Din to show up.

“I'm sure.” Neleem reassures her, patting the arm Dulcy has looped with hers before going back to stroking her eternally restless belly. Dez had wanted her to stay behind and rest too, but there is no way Neleem is going to be trapped in bed while everyone else is gathered around the training area to watch the showdown between Davarax and, uh, Shezmu. (Neleem is a bit embarrassed to admit it, but she keeps getting the names of the three Saxon boys mixed up. Ever since the pregnancy, her memory has been all weird.) Plus, seeing how pale Dulcy's face is, a little extra support might not be a bad idea.

The weather is warm and dry and the excitement is thick in the air. Every single one of the Mandalorians who had chosen to follow Dez is present around the improvised battle arena and they shove, bump into and shout at each other to release their energy rather than actually fight each other for once in their lives. No one wants to risk getting banned from watching the event.

Standing next to her and Dulcy, the one who wouldn't hesitate to ban troublemakers if they disrupt this fight, Dez is looking so stern that he makes even Neleem decide to let him stew in silence. His arms are crossed over his chest and his eyes are frightfully dark as he watches Shezmu prancing around inside the fenced off arena, thrusting his hands up in the air, waving his helmet around, and bellowing all kinds of macho lines about how tough he is and how he's going to beat Davarax' ass. The posturing might seem a bit silly, but he is renowned for his brutality, even Neleem has heard about some of the things he's done, and that side of him is probably what worries both Dulcy and Dez so much. (And Dez claims he doesn't even like Davarax. Hah. It never fails to amuse Neleem when he insists on that. One day she'll unpack that mess as well. One day.)

Sobek, Furyan and their two younger sons stand behind the fence on the other side of the arena and all four are grinning with blood-thirsty delight. They are completely indifferent to the fact that Raga stands next to Paz and Dez at the opposite side. Not cold, not resentful, just indifferent. Strange. Neleem suspects she will never feel entirely comfortable around the Saxons. They scare her.

Then crowd behind Dez part to reveal Davarax approaching the training area with a stern-faced Din in tow. Wearing his armour but carrying his helmet, Davarax does not look thrilled about this. He barely glances over at Dulcy, ignores Dez completely, as he walks by them to enter the arena while Din reluctantly halts next to Corin. Aside from little Nemi who is back at the house with the three former Imps who would not be welcome, all of Davarax' kids, even Zev 'sonya and her crew, are observing with solemn eyes as he walks over to face the grinning Shezmu.

Dulcy's arm tightens around Neleem's. She probably has no idea she's doing it. Her blue eyes are locked on her husband and her lips are a tight line of tension. Neleem places her hand over hers and gives it a gentle squeeze to show her support and gets a weak smile of gratitude.

“Listen...” Davarax says, barely audible through the shouts from the crowd. He's still visibly reluctant to fight, keeps a neutral pose by holding his helmet under his right arm and resting his weight on one hip. “We don't have to do this. We can just walk away. You know that, right?”

Shezmu's grin widens. “I always knew you were a coward.” He flings away his own helmet. It rolls across the dirt, under the fence and out of the arena. “Well, I'm not scared.” He throws his arms out in a clear challenge, puffs out his chest and raises his voice to make a loud declaration. “I don't even need my helmet to beat you. What do you say, Dav'ika? Come on. Bring it!”

It is difficult to say who is squeezing the other's hand hardest as Neleem and Dulcy both tense up. They may not have been raised as Mandalorians but even they realize: There will be blood spilled here today. There is no way to avoid it after that. Dav'ika? That was one step too far.

Davarax sighs, clearly disappointed, then walks over to the fence and hold out his helmet for Din to take before he turns to face Shezmu again. His eyes are dark too now. The fight is on.

Neleem steals a glance over at Dez to gauge his level of concern, leaving the helmets off has to increase the danger of serious injury, but his face reveals absolutely nothing. Definitely not good. With one hand already covering Dulcy's, Neleem nervously places her other hand on her swollen belly and flinches as that is the moment Shezmu moves, fast like lightning, and slams a fist into Davarax' face. The surprise hit spins Davarax around, the impact splits his lip, and the crowd explodes with excited howls and cheers with the Saxons, predictably enough, loudest of them all.

On the other side of the arena from the Saxons, Din clutches Davarax' helmet hard with a look of burning hatred in his eyes. Paz takes the seemingly unfazed Raga's hand in his. Barthor's breastplate reveals his strained breathing while Corin and Leo shout encouragements for Davarax.

In the ring, Davarax turns to face Shezmu only to receive a second punch, one that has him staggering back to keep his balance. A third punch he manages to dodge, but not the next, which rams into his ribs. After that, Davarax makes an effort to counter but Shezmu sidesteps and slams his fist to Davarax' jaw instead. The younger man follows up with a blitz of punches to Davarax' stomach, hits and movements so quick they appear blurry, forcing Davarax into a defensive position and makes it impossible for him to do anything but try to block the worst of it.

Dulcy's fingers start digging into Neleem's skin, but she barely notices as Neleem stares at the fight with suffocating distress. Corin and Leo have both gone quiet.

Shezmu keeps hammering away at Davarax, dodges the few attacks sent his way with ease, keeps punching like he wants to truly hurt him. The cheering and howling grow louder and louder.

Minutes pass, agonizing minutes of helplessly watching Shezmu outclassing Davarax in a way that Neleem never thought was possible, feeling Dulcy's strained breathing next to her and the sensation of her own growing anxiousness threatening to choke her. What if Shezmu ends up seriously injuring him? This is wrong. Davarax clearly needs help. He's bleeding. She has to stop this.

Neleem looks over at Dez, finds him completely focused on the fight, yet the words she means to speak are never voiced as she sees his lips slowly curve into a smug smile...

Shezmu, the idiot, thinking he's actually winning the fight throws another thoughtless and painfully obvious punch and finally Davarax is done mapping the arrogant turd's moves. Beskar Boy simply leans a little to the side, lets the fist fly harmlessly by his face, then uses his creepily quick reflexes to reach up and grab Shezmu's lower arm.

Shezmu blinks with obvious surprise.

Davarax yanks him forward and plants his own fist in Shezmu's face. The impact is so hard it can be heard even through the hollering audience. It stuns the younger man for a moment, has him staggering off-balance, but it also infuriates him and Shezmu launches himself towards his opponent the second he recovers. Of course the idiot doesn't realize that Davarax had let him recover and anticipates the move.

Dez might not like the fact that Beskar Boy can hand Dez Vizla his ass in combat, a Vizla should always be the better fighter, but it is kind of cool to watch him beat the snot out of a disrespectful brat. Shezmu needed to be put in his place. He was getting a bit too big for his helmet.

The Saxons aren't bad people, Dez loves being around them, but they are old blood Mandalorian and will only respect the strong. Dez has no idea how Davarax managed to re-wire Raga, making her capable of occasionally controlling her temper, unlike every other Saxon in history. They are a wonderful mix of violence and loyalty, equally willing to kill you if you piss them off as to die for you if you have their respect, and Dez knows he's damn lucky to have them on his side.

He just needs them to lay off Beskar Boy. The Saxons want to hurt Davarax, hurt him bad, turn him into a chew-toy after decades of resenting his elevated position in the Covert, but Dez won't let that happen. It's not because Dez cares about Davarax, he doesn't even like the guy, he doesn't, not one bit, not at all, but Beskar Boy is the best fighter of them all, despite his too soft heart, and the Saxons will settle once Davarax reminds them of that. It's just practical. That's it.

It doesn't take long for the fight to be over now that Davarax starts to actually fight back. Shezmu fails to land a single punch and is unable to block any of the hits coming his way. It takes less than two minutes before the oldest of the Saxon sons falls to the ground and stays there as a groaning bundle of pain. Davarax looks down at him with, annoyingly enough, a touch of guilt on his face.

Dez closes his eyes in an effort to hold on to his temper and not shoot Davarax when Beskar Boy crouches down to check on Shezmu and probably help him up while apologizing at light-speed. However, a loud thump makes him snap his eyes open again. And Dez does not like what he sees.

Furyan Saxon is standing next to Davarax and the still groaning Shezmu curled up on the ground. The sand shows how hard the man has landed after he had clearly used a boost from his jetpack to jump over the fence. Furyan has a big grin on his face, definitely not a nice one, showing off those pointed canine teeth of his that makes him look a bit like an animal.

Shit.

“That was hardly a fight.” Furyan says, still grinning, radiating barely restrained violence. “Come on. You and me, no greenhorns. Let's see if you can handle a real tussle.”

Davarax looks worried. He should be. “I...” Beskar Boy slowly, cautiously, straightens back up and his fingers flex anxiously.

Furyan keeps his gaze on Davarax, even as he leans down, grabs Shezmu by his upper arm and pulls him to his feet before shoving him in the direction of the other Saxons. The young man stumbles over to the fence where his brothers grab a hold of him and start pulling him over. Sobek is watching her husband and Beskar Boy with a smirk. The crowd is also watching intently.

“Furyan...” Davarax says, a silent plea for the man to see reason and stop this.

Furyan's grin widens even more. His eyes are shining with excitement. “Is my son right? Are you a coward?” He raises his voice. “Are you a weak coward?”

Dez' stomach tightens with unease.

Yeah, Davarax is the best fighter here, but Furyan is the most brutal opponent Dez has ever met. Shezmu has done his best to live up to his parents reputation, but Furyan is all muscle, zero self-control and, worst of all, he has a dangerous amount of fighting experience.

This was meant to be a quick and easy way to fix the friction between Beskar Boy and the Saxons, but now it just turned into a karking mess that could just as quickly turn into a disaster...

Shit!

Din's heart is beating so hard its almost painful. He wants to run into the arena and take on Furyan himself. Din's pretty fast and he's a good fighter, he could probably take Furyan with a little luck. He could. With a little luck. Definitely. What he can't do is just watch this happening.

It's difficult to breathe. Din has to force air into his lungs. Him just standing there, not doing anything, helpless, useless, while... It reminds him too much of...

For a moment, Din could have sworn Furyan Saxon morphs into a battle droid and he flinches at the flashback of doors opening and the towering shape of the droid. The smell of death. Explosions.

-It's okay. Take my hand. I'll keep you safe. I promise.

Davarax' voice grounds him, even through a memory, bringing Din back to the present. But it also makes him even more desperate to stop this. Din is not a helpless kid anymore. He can barely remember his parents faces anymore, but he certainly still feels the pain of losing them and knows he can't lose Davarax too. He can't. Dank farrik, he can't! He will fucking kill Furyan if...

The baseline of Davarax' helmet digs harshly into Din's chest as he is holding on to it far too hard.

That's when Furyan attacks. Like his son, he throws a punch without warning. The difference is that Davarax instantly blocks it and that the strength of the impact pushes him back a couple of inches in the sand.

After that, the fight is on and the crowd explodes with cheers and mindless hollering. Furyan goes after Davarax like he wants to kill him, putting all of his strength into his every punch and aiming to do as much damage as possible, still grinning like a blade.

The sounds inside the arena is a horrible mix of grunts of pain, impossibly loud clangs of metal slamming against metal and strained breathing. It's driving Din insane. While Davarax is definitely forced to step up his game and use more of his skills, Din can easily tell he's still holding back. He's letting Furyan launch himself at him again and again, blocking as much as possible and countering every once in a while, which is why Din suspects Davarax is aiming to let the other man merely tire himself out and eventually stop the fight himself.

Hearing Davarax' grunts of pain and dreading that Furyan's meaty fists might cause lasting damage, Din wishes Davarax wouldn't be so karking... Davarax. There is no question about it; if Davarax really wanted to, he could have won by now. Din has seen what he's capable of when he's defending someone under his protection. He's done that for Din several times. Why does he have to take it easy on someone like Furyan Saxon? Din remembers what Davarax had told him, about why he was never to train with a Saxon other than Raga; they tend to get training and real fighting mixed up and wouldn't mind losing an eye as long as they managed to rip out both of yours.

Din glances over at Corin and finds him looking every bit as worried as he feels. Next to him, Dulcy is watching with a clenched jaw and a single tear running down her cheek.

Furyan continues to throw himself at Davarax fists first. He must have figured out the plan too and is determined to make this fast and messy, while Davarax continues to block most of it and taking the occasional hit that has him jolt and groan with pain. Again and again. Harder and harder.

Then Din's fears are abruptly validated.

Davarax is backing away from a wild punch when Furyan suddenly drops low and throws out a vicious kick; ramming the bottom of his boot straight at Davarax' knee. The crunching sound that can be heard despite them being in the middle of the arena and Davarax' scream makes Din's blood run cold and he can't breathe. The roar from the crowd sounds like it comes from underwater.

In obvious agony, Davarax struggles to keep his balance on one leg while he keeps his focus on the approaching Furyan. Davarax is bleeding from his split lip, from both nostrils and a cut in his left eyebrow, who knows how many bruises and cracked bones can be found on his body, but there is no fear in his eyes. Now he looks pissed off. When Furyan dives at him, Davarax twists his body so he misses and grabs a hold of him instead and wrestles him to the ground.

Corin grabs Din's wrist, his grip is so tight it starts to block off the bloodflow, but Din doesn't care. He simply stares as Davarax finally, finally, takes things seriously and commences to pummel Furyan into submission. To the roaring approval of the crowd and the uneasy scowls of the Saxons.

Din is finally able to gulp down some air when Davarax gets a severely bloodied Furyan trapped against the ground with his lower-arm pressing down on his neck. Din is also finally able to ease his muscles down a little when Davarax growls to the trapped man; “Do you yield?”

Furyan has one more attempt to free himself, half-hearted as he knows it is in vain, before he drops his head to the ground and nods with a blood-stained grin.

Davarax closes his eyes, relief mixing with the pain on his face, then he lets Furyan go and struggles his way up to stand on his unharmed leg. He looks like a glorious warrior, strong and blood stained, and Din joins in with the crowd applauding like crazy. Next to him, Leo jumps at Corin and the two embrace while jumping up and down, cheering like children.

The rush of victory, of pride and relief, combined with the delighted vocal approval from the others is why Din barely hears Dez mumbling one single word.

“Don't.”

Puzzled, Din looks over at Dez. Don't? Don't what? Why had he said that? Why, after having a stone face for the entire fight, does he look worried now? What is going on?

“Don't do it.” Dez mutters with his eyes locked on what is happening.

Din looks back and sees Davarax turning away from his opponent and aims to make his painful way over to where his wife and children are eagerly awaiting him. He sees Furyan turning back over and sitting up, still with that damn grin on his face. And then, several things happen all at once.

Davarax limps a step towards Din and the others. Furyan bolts forward. And there is a flash of blue and jetpack fire next to Din.

Furyan is mid-leap when Dez' hand locks around his throat and he is then slammed down on his back in the dust before he can finish his sneak-attack on Davarax, who half-turns with a startled look. Dez pauses, down on one knee next to Furyan, holding him in place, and he is giving him his sternest stare that is amplified by the surprised silence of the crowd. “This fight was between Davarax and Shezmu. You butted in, Furyan, and you got to have your fun. But we are not doing dishonourable back-attacks here. Not today. Understand?”

“Since when do you care about the honour of back-attacks?” Furyan cackles, struggling to breathe a little due to the tight grip on his throat.

“Since you are facing a battle-brother, Furyan. This is not a real fight and you know it.” Dez says, then abruptly extends his right arm to point rigidly at the fence without taking his eyes off Furyan. His vambrace gives an ominous crackling warning of an electrically charged weapon. “You know I will do it, Sobek.”

Sobek has her head slightly lowered and feet shifted into a battle-stance, and Din realizes she's about to jumpe the fence to come to Furyan's aid. She smirks. Whether she's amused at getting caught or pleased with Dez' ruthlessness, Din honestly can't tell. Next to her, Sioben and Sai Soker are holding up Shezmu between them and all three of the Saxon boys look uneasy and hesitant.

“You yielded. It's over.” Dez states to Furyan.

Furyan wheezes a laugh, then grunts as Dez must tighten his grip enough to cut off the air. He stubbornly grabs Dez' lower arm in an effort to pull his hand away, but it has no effect. Finally the grin widens even more and Furyan gives a nod.

In the background, Din sees Sobek slouch into a relaxed posture, the sons are visibly relieved and the tension disappears as the crowd bursts into cheers again. Heart in his throat, Din wonders if he can't understand why others some times might think Mandalorians are a bit crazy.

Swallowing hard, Davarax hesitates before he turns away from Furyan again and limps over to where Din and the others are waiting. He is pale, sweating and bleeding, and barely able to put any weight on his injured leg, but still he manages to offer them all a smile. “Cheer up. I won.”

Dulcy reaches out and gently touches his face with trembling hands while trying to smile despite the fact that she's crying. “You're a mess, sweetie. Let's get you cleaned up.”

Din keeps a wary eye on Furyan as Dez lets go and saunters towards them, but Furyan merely struggles up on his feet and shuffles towards his own family. The danger is over. Din turns his attention back to Davarax and feels the urge to apologize as he watches Dulcy carefully fuss over the cuts and bruises on his face after Davarax hobbles out of the arena and joins the rest of them. If only Din had acted the second Furyan entered the arena then Davarax wouldn't be in so much pain right now. What if he'd died? What if he had died because Din was too cowardly to act?

Din steps forward, opens his mouth to apologize, but never gets the chance as he's abruptly pushed aside by Dez as Davarax nearly falls and he dives forward to grab his arm. The quick reaction keeps Davarax somewhat standing and Dulcy grabs a hold of his other arm in an instinctive urge to help.

Gritting out a curse in Mando'a, Davarax pants through the pain. “This really hurts.” His gaze abruptly focuses on something else and then he sticks his chin out. “Hey. Raga. Look at me.”

Arms crossed, Raga is staring at the ground and her face is dark with rage. She lifts her gaze.

Paz hovers behind her, shifting a worried gaze from her to Davarax and back again as he doesn't know who to comfort first. Typical him, Din notes with a hollow feeling in his chest. Mr. Perfect.

“Raga. Don't be angry with your brother or your father.” Davarax says. “It's okay.”

“It's not okay. They're idiots.” Raga grits out through clenched teeth. “I'm going to kick their asses.”

“No, you will not.” Davarax orders with mild determination. “I agreed to these fights. I knew the risk. Besides, I've been hurt worse.” He reaches out and lightly taps a finger under her chin. “I may not look as tough or cool as your father and your brother, but I'm quite gnarly and difficult to kill.”

Raga's anger finally cracks when he winks at her and she can't help but to smile a little. “You are such a dork, you know that?”

Davarax nods with a smile of his own. “I know.”

“And that goes for all of you.” Dez rumbles, looking around at them. “This ends here, understand? There will be no getting back at the Saxons or carrying grudges or anything like that. This. Ends. Here.” He tugs at Davarax' arm. “Tell them.” And adds a scowl at the eerily quiet Barthor. “Especially that one.”

“Dez is right. Listen, I agreed to these fights to calm things down, Shezmu and Furyan will be hurting for days too, it's over. There is no reason for you to pick a fight with them. And if you do, they will hit back, and then it never ends.” Davarax' gaze lingers on Barthor. “Understood?”

Three seconds pass before Barthor's helmet gives a sullen nod.

“Good.” Davarax says, and then his unharmed leg gives in and Dez grunts as he barely is able to prevent him from falling. “Sorry.” Davarax says, trying to find his balance again. The bleeding from his cuts and his nose has more or less stopped, but he's sweating like crazy. “Sorry. Shit, this hurts.”

“We need to get him back to the house.” Neleem declares with heavy concern. “Maybe if you all-”

Dez crouches down, more or less shoves his shoulder into Davarax' lower belly and straightens back up when the groaning man folds over him like a rickety chair.

“Careful!” Dulcy snaps, running her hands over Davarax in a helpless move. “If you're going to carry him over your shoulder, you got to adjust him. He's far too-”

“I don't want to put too much pressure on his ribs.” Dez mutters, already setting course for the house. “I suspect they broke two or three of them.”

Din cringes. He watches as one after another follow them; Corin wrapping a comforting arm around his mother, Paz with one arm around Raga and the other around Neleem, Barthor with his arms crossed and his visor aimed at the ground, Leo and Mose following without a word, until a light touch to his arm makes Din glance over and find Zev'sonya standing next to him. She's got a frown on her face.

“You okay?” She asks.

Din turns his attention back to where Davarax is bracing himself against Dez' lower back, trying to joke about the situation while obviously in immense pain. “Let's go.” Din says.

Back at the house, Din and Zev'sonya are the last to enter the room, just as Dez dumps Davarax down on the mattress and rolls his eyes at the pained cry it results in.

“Oh, shut up. It's just some broken bones. You're not dying.” Dez scoffs.

“It hurts!” Davarax snaps, trying to breathe through the pain again. “Jerk.”

“I should have let you fall on your face.” Dez rumbles, then heads towards the exit. “You're welcome, by the way.”

“Thank you!” Davarax shouts after him, meaning it despite being in so much agony he has to shut his eyes and pant for air. He absently takes a light hold of Dulcy's lower arm as she starts to examine the cuts and bruises on his face. “I'm okay.”

“You're really not.” Dulcy counters.

“I'm okay.” Davarax repeats, as stubborn as only he can be. A thing that Din admires and hates about him. Davarax then looks around the room and huffs a weak laugh at all the worried faces. “Guys. Seriously. I'm okay. Like Dez says; I'm not dying.”

“Dulcy, let us fetch whatever you need?” Neleem asks, ignoring the injured man completely.

Davarax groans with tired frustration, turns his head with an eye roll to properly show off how dramatic he thinks they are being, and then, like lightening from clear sky, his gaze locks on to Din.

Din instantly flicks his gaze down to the floor. His stomach feels like a tight knot.

“Dulcy.” Davarax' voice suddenly sounds calm and free of any pain. “Can I have a couple of minutes alone with Din?”

“What?” The confusion is soaking her voice. “Din? Why?”

Din's skin prickle with cold anxiety. He can feel everyone staring at him. Why does Davarax want to talk to him alone? That can't be good...

“Please.” Davarax requests.

There is a moment of silence, then Dulcy stands up and claps her hands. “Right. Okay. Everyone out. That's it, babies, out you go.” Once she has ushered every confused soul out of the room except for Din, Dulcy pauses in the doorway as she's physically tugging the very reluctant Corin to leave with her. “I'll be back in two minutes with bacta bandages and hot tea.”

“Thank you.” Davarax says. Then the door closes and it's just the two of them; Davarax... and Din.

“Din.” Davarax calls for his attention. “Are you okay?”

Din nods. He still can't look at him.

“What's wrong?” Davarax says, sounding as patient and caring as always.

Din can barely find his voice. “Nothing is wrong. I'm just being stupid.”

“Talk to me.”

Shifting his weight uneasily, Din crosses his arms but doesn't quite know why. He keeps his stare down. “I... I got worried, that's all. First Shezmu and then Furyan... They were beating you pretty bad. I thought Furyan was going to kill you a-and I should have done something but I didn't. Dez did. I just stood there. I couldn't do anything. Like with... them.”

“Them?” Davarax sounds confused now. “What are you...” His voice trails off for a moment, then there is a quiet but heavy; “Oh.”

The sound of movement and grunts of pain makes Din lift his gaze and he's horrified to see that Davarax is struggling his way out of bed. “What are you doing?” Din darts over to him, reaching out but is scared to touch and end up hurting him. “Get back in bed.”

Finding his balance on his unharmed leg after a little bit of trouble, Davarax then places a hand on Din's shoulder and waits until he meets his gaze. “Din. Listen to me.” He squeezes his shoulder to make sure he's truly paying attention. “I am the stupid one. I shouldn't have let you watch that.” His hand moves up to gently cup the back of Din's neck. “I didn't mean for things to turn as vicious as they did today. Furyan does not hold back, even when he's playing.”

“That was playing?” Din offers as a weak joke.

Davarax nods. “Yeah. To him, it was.” He pets Din's neck. “Furyan was never out to kill me. It probably looked a lot worse than it was.”

Swallowing, Din gestures vaguely to Davarax' face. “Looks serious enough to me.”

“I'm going to be fine, Din. Broken bones and a bruised ego, it will heal.” Davarax says, then leans a little closer to underline how sincere he is. “I'm really sorry I made you worry.”

Din shakes his head and feels embarrassed. “It's not... I didn't... You...”

“Never ever doubt your strength and courage, Din. You are a true Mandalorian, I know you are. When the day comes where someone in trouble needs your help; you will shine. Trust me.”

“How do you know?” Din asks. Hadn't he just proven he's still useless?

Davarax pets his neck again with a warm smile. “Because I know you. As your teacher, I know you have the skills and brawn needed, but as... the guy who wished he had the guts to say no to missions so he could have raised you himself, I also know you have the heart of a Mandalorian. That's how I know.”

Unable to meet his eyes and embarrassed by the emotions that must be painfully visible on his face, Din leans forward a bit and hides his facial catastrophe by resting his forehead to Davarax' shoulder. The feeling of Davarax moving his hand down from his neck to slide his arm around Din's shoulders instead to give him a hug makes Din's eyes well up a bit. Even though Davarax had already explained to him why he'd handed Din over to someone else, it still helps to ease years of heartbreak and thinking he was unwanted to hear how sorely Davarax regrets that decision.

The very next day, Dez has Paz and Raga in tow as he's trying to hunt down Liita so he can take all three for a jetpack training lesson. Instead they come across Beskar Boy who has hobbled out to occupy the bench outside of the house and now sits bundled up in a blanket while being tended to by his blonde witch and Dez' very pregnant wife. Dez can feel the scowl darkening his face.

“Hey.” Davarax lifts his hands in surrender. “I told them I was fine. This is not my choice.”

“Shush.” Dulcy orders, peeling a fruit she probably intends to feed him. “You are not fine.”

“The bacta won't work if you keep aggravating your injuries.” Neleem declares, measuring up and preparing new bacta bandages with the same dedication and care that she'd shown when changing Dez' bandages.

The cuts and bruises on Davarax' face are faint and almost gone, but his ribs and especially his knee will take longer to heal. Dez gets that. He just doesn't like that Neleem is among the ones tending to the precious Davarax when she has aches and worries of her own.

It's no more than little over a month left before the baby is due and he'd much prefer for Neleem to spend those weeks resting in bed. However, her mood has been a little... unpredictable lately and Dez does not want to risk her wrath by voicing that particular wish. Damn that Beskar Boy.

“What?” A voice shouts, making them all turn their heads to look for the owner. It's Sobek. She's talking, her version of talking sounds awfully like arguing, with someone over a headset while she marches by them. “Are you a complete idiot? You must be. How you are able to breathe and walk at the same time is a mystery to me. No. No, listen to me; I will sneak into your room at night, slit your throat and watch you bleed out before I set fire to your house and dance around the flames until dawn breaks. Now, tell me again how you are going to charge me double for the repairs of Sioben's armor because the little shit flipped you off yesterday. Please.” She ignores everyone except for two souls; her own daughter gets a nod while Dez gets a nod and a brief smile, all without stopping on her path to wherever she's going. “Let me tell you what I intend to do with your ashes...”

“Dez, what is the deal with you and Sobek?” Dulsissia asks, obviously curious, as the woman in question disappears around the corner of the house. “I do believe she hates everyone she's not married to or have given birth to, yet she seems quite fond of you.”

Dez shrugs. “I've never given her or her clan a reason to doubt my strength or my determination.”

Davarax hums. “True, but neither did their former leader and they still walked out on her. Sobek likes you. She always did.”

Neleem sends her husband a sly look. “Did you and Sobek have a thing?”

Dez hesitates. He hesitates for barely a second, maybe half a second, but that is all the confirmation Dulsissia needs. Gasping, all eyes, she cackles with delight. “You did! You and Sobek!”

Davarax frowns. “Wait, when? I didn't know that.”

Raga looks horrified as she exclaims; “You and my mom?!” while Paz looks plain uncomfortable.

“We-” Dez begins, but is interrupted.

“Who started it? Who ended it?” Dulsissia gleefully demands to know.

“Why didn't I know about it?” Davarax appears mortally offended by this.

“We-” Dez tries again, but is once more cut off.

“You. And my mom.” Raga declares, each word louder than the previous.

“WE WERE NINE!” Dez shouts.

“Oh.” Dulsissia says, then squeaks with even more thrilled delight. “That is so cute!”

Raga looks a little relieved, but still unsettled. Paz now seems to struggle with the thought of his father ever being that young.

Neleem is unreasonably fascinated. “Was she, mayhaps, your first girlfriend?”

Dez really wishes they could move on to a different topic. “I guess.”

Now Dulsissia makes a sound that morphs into something only bats can hear. “So cute!” She grabs a hold of his arm and gasps again. “Did you give her flowers?”

“No.” Dez snarls, yanking his arm free.

“I bet she was the one who asked you, huh?” Neleem deducts rather smugly.

Dez hates this conversation. He hates it. “Sort of...”

Davarax shakes his head and crosses his arms while faking, rather badly, a resigned sigh. “You know you're not getting away before you've told us the tale, Dez. Cough it up, buddy.”

Warm anger flares up his neck, but it is nothing compared to the heat of embarrassment in Dez' face. “There is nothing to tell. One day I was training. Sobek showed up. She grabbed my face, kissed me and told me I was her boyfriend. Happy?”

Dulsissia pets Dez' arm. “Aah, young love.”

Dez sneers at her, but she doesn't even flinch. Jedi witch. “It wasn't like that.”

“Aah, but you liked her, didn't you?” Dulsissia continues. “You lllllliked her.”

“I...” Dez fumbles for the right words. He didn't dislike her. Sobek was cute as a little girl and a very good fighter, among the best of their age group, he just hadn't really crushed on anyone at that point in his young life. He had sensed she very much liked him, though. Her eyes had been happy when she had declared him her boyfriend, so Dez just... He didn't want to make her sad. Gar and Tiber did that enough. Dez knew everything about having shitty siblings. “Fine. I liked her.”

“And was it your first kiss as well?” Neleem prods, every bit as gleeful as Dulcy.

Okay, now Dez' face ignites with an absolutely scolding heat and he just wants to hide somewhere.

“It was!” Dulsissia concludes happily. “Oh my, that is too cute!”

“I can't believe I didn't know this. You two, how long?” Davarax asks.

“Not long. Maybe three weeks.” Dez mutters, hoping this means the conversation will end now. “I was boring and she was restless, a bad combo. We became friends instead.”

“And you guys never dated again?” Dulsissia reclaims the role as interrogator.

“No.” Dez replies, noting Paz and Raga's relief. “She hung out with her crew, I was with mine, so we didn't hang out together much. But we've stayed friends since. That's the whole story.”

“But I-” Dulsissia is not going to let this go.

“That's the whole story.” Dez repeats, gritting the words out with with no room for debate. “The end.” He turns on his heel. “Paz. Raga. With me.” And so what if he marches away a little hastily? He's wasted enough time on this silliness. He doesn't like the snickers and giggles he can hear as he leaves, but as Dez senses no malice in them; he pretends not to hear.

Neleem is in her room resting and Davarax insists on walking by himself when it is time to head inside to start working on preparing food for the eventual stampede of Dulcy's hungry babies. Plus, it is time for Corin to hand over her youngest baby after he and Din had persuaded her to let them babysit Nemi for a couple of hours. Her sweet son loves to spoil his little sister and darling Din is so paternal around youngsters that Dulsissia fears he might actually adopt a Foundling who accidentally strays too far from its family.

Keeping a wary eye on Davarax, just in case his leg gives in, Dulcy teases him about his childhood sweethearts. (She can't get over the fact that baby-Dez' first girlfriend was baby-Sobek.) Lucky for her, all of Dulcy's childhood cringy moments are safely hidden away on Seswenna. “Come on. I bet you had to fight them off. You with your adorable little face.”

Davarax huffs a laugh, embarrassed. “There were a couple, but not all that many, I'm afraid. It took me some time to become the suave flirting machine that hobbles before you.”

Reaching out and taking his hand in hers, squeezing it ever so gently, Dulcy sends him a loving glance. “Well, you won me over.”

Whatever Davarax means to say in return is instantly forgotten as they enter the kitchen and find themselves looking at a familiar figure in golden armour and a fur cloak. Shock and, yes, a jab of fear makes Dulsissia flinch and her grip on Davarax' hand tightens anxiously.

“What...” Davarax' voice is a mere whisper and he has to clear his throat to find it again. His face has gone pale. “Why are you here?”

Seconds go by in silence where Dulcy can feel the cold stare behind the visor scanning her, measuring her and obviously still finds her lacking as the great leader of the Children of the Watch turns her gaze to her brother instead. “Too many Outsiders know of our location. We are moving the Covert.”

Outsiders. Dulcy realizes she means the Vizlas, the Saxons and the others who had chosen to remove their helmets and follow Dez. Is that really all they are to her now? Probably. She does not tolerate anyone breaking the rules. The woman has only seen her own brother once since he was forced to leave and that was simply because he had entered the Covert again with Dez. So why is she here? Telling Davarax they are relocating seems like an odd reason...

The intimidating figure nods lightly towards Davarax'. “You won?” Referring to the bruises.

Davarax nods. “Yeah.” He doesn't elaborate and his sister doesn't dig any further.

Dulcy is about to blurt out offerings of food and something to drink, manners and anxiety driving her, when they are all distracted by the sound of rapid footsteps and soon Nemi comes running into the kitchen only to come to an abrupt halt when she sees the stranger there and reacts with the natural suspicion of a two year old child.

Half a heartbeat later Corin and Din comes stumbling to a halt behind Nemi as they'd clearly been chasing after her and both boys join in with the wide-eyed staring at their visitor.

Dulcy notes how the golden helmet has not moved since Nemi appeared. That sharp gaze is now locked on to her daughter and it stays on her. It should make Dulcy uneasy, but then the visor actually moves, ever so slightly, to look over at Davarax.

“You had a child...” The voice from behind the helmet is quiet surprise, but as his sister she sees, as Dulcy does every single day, Nemi having Davarax' eyes, his chin, his pitch black hair... Dulsissia's genes did their best by rounding out Nemi's face and staking claim to her smile, but she is definitely her father's daughter.

Davarax gives the faintest of nods. “Yeah.” His voice is a mere whisper again.

Dulcy balks. That he hadn't bothered to tell Dez and the others is somewhat understandable, but he never informed his sister about Nemi? The shock of hearing this snaps Dulcy out of her apathy, especially as she sees the helmet move to look at Nemi again, and Dulcy finds her voice again. “Corin, Din, could you go tell the others that dinner is going to be a little bit late and that we need some privacy? Please? I'll message your vambraces real soon, okay? Thank you, babies.”

Confused and visibly hesitant, the two boys slowly back away and out of the kitchen. Nemi hasn't moved at all, merely stares at the golden helmet. And while her eyes are wary, she is not terrified.

“She looks just like you at that age.”

Dulsissia is amazed to hear, for the very first time, a hint of warmth and affection in the voice from the golden helmet. Nemi glances over at her mother, clearly looking for guidance, and Dulcy gives her an encouraging smile.

“She has your eyes...” The voice continues, almost mild. “I hope she has your fighting spirit too.”

“She does.” Dulcy confirms when Davarax doesn't.

That turns the helmet and the sharp attention towards Dulsissia and for a moment, Dulcy thinks that maybe she should have just kept quiet as well. It's unnerving to have that visor locked on you.

“You took the vows?” The suddenly very intimidating woman asks rather sharply.

Dulcy nods, not sure what that has got to do with anything. “Yes.” A bit defiant. “We are one.”

The golden helmet gives one brief nod. “Then that makes you family.” Without looking at her arm, she pushes a button on her vambrace, which makes the kitchen door slide shut for meaning she must have sliced their system, turns her visor back to focus on Nemi and crouches down. “Hello.”

Nemi stands her ground, but is still far from relaxed about the situation. “Ello...”

“I am your father's sister.” The infamous leader of the Children of the Watch says. Then she simply reaches up and takes off her helmet to be face to face with Nemi. “I'm your aunt.”

Few things has or ever will shock and surprise Dulcy so much as this moment where she finds herself looking at the face of the infamous woman behind the golden armor. Stunned, she can only watch as the woman puts her helmet down on the floor, takes a hold of Nemi and straightens back up to let the girl settle on her left arm so she can study her up close.

Nemi, curious and brave by nature, reassured by her parents allowing this stranger into their house, also takes advantage of the proximity to properly study this unfamiliar soul.

The woman who had done her best to make Davarax give up on a future with Dulcy does not look like anything Dulsissia expected. She knows Davarax is the younger of the two, but the face Dulcy is now blatantly staring at belies the years between them. And while there is still a hardness to the eyes, there is now also that warmth she'd heard in her voice.

For a second there is even the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips as she reaches up her free hand to touch Nemi's face before looking over at Davarax and touching his face in the exact same way. “Mom and dad would have loved this.”

Davarax looks... sad. He nods. “Yeah.”

“I can't believe you have a child...” There is no trace of the ruthless leader in her voice now, merely a sister filled with wonder and quiet happiness on behalf of her brother. She carefully slides a lock of Nemi's sleek hair between her fingers like a whisper. “She's perfect.”

Dulcy couldn't agree more and is slightly puzzled that Davarax merely gives a faint nod.

“She will be raised a Mandalorian?” It's not really a question and there is a suspicious look Dulcy's way.

“Of course.” Dulsissia answers, forcing herself to meet the stare and hold her chin up. “It might not appear like it to you, but we do live by the Creed.”

“You have taken the Creed?” The tone is flat, not hostile but not friendly either.

“I have.” Dulcy replies, thinking that the armor she's wearing should be answer enough but if the woman demands a vocal statement then fine. “I've become pretty decent at blaster accuracy too.”

The latter statement is meant as a bit of attitude, but to Dulcy's surprise it results in the woman scanning her for a second time and frowning thoughtfully instead of radiating the usual disdain.

It gives Dulsissia courage to speak again. “I promised you I'd keep Davarax safe, didn't I?”

“Indeed you did.” The tone of the reply and the look on her face tells Dulcy that his sister hadn't really had much faith in that promise, but another scan of her brother's wife after this new information results in what Dulcy can only interpret as lukewarm allowance, which is a step up from outright disdain and dislike at least.

“She shot and killed the Imp that killed our fellow Mandalorians.” Davarax states.

That brings grudging approval in the eyes that are so similar to Davarax'.

Dulcy has to bite her lower lip in an effort to hide her delighted smile. She never ever thought the woman would give her a chance. Or look at her daughter like this. It's like a wonderful dream.

If only Davarax wouldn't just stand there like he'd been dipped in carbonite with such a worried expression on his face...

“When Davarax was this age, he would follow me everywhere and try to copy everything I did.”

Dulsissia can't help but to laugh a little at that. “She follows Davarax around and tries to copy everything he does.” She reaches out and pokes a finger gently at Nemi's side, making her giggle. “Don't you, baby?”

Nemi gives a shy nod before going back to staring at her aunt with utter fascination.

“You are going to grow up strong, just like he did.” There is a mix of fond memories and hope for the future in those words from a woman who has shown more emotion in these ten minutes than the years Dulcy spent in the Covert. “You are going to become a great leader.”

Smiling, Dulsissia watches as the woman crouches down, sets Nemi back on her feet to have her hands free and free something from around her own neck. It's a necklace. It's a complicated symbol Dulcy hasn't seen before; a sun half covered by shadow and what looks like swords at the top and bottom, several arrows and jagged edges surrounding them. And she carefully places it around Nemi's neck, touching it briefly before looking into Nemi's eyes.

“This is the way.” Davarax' sister says.

“S'way.” Nemi replies with a big, toothy smile. She's heard those words countless times.

Picking up her helmet, the leader in the golden armor stands back up and puts it on. She looks over at Davarax a final time. “You know how to find me if you change your mind.”

Davarax nods.

Okay, that was... what was that? Dulsissia blinks confused, but then the woman sets course for the door and Dulcy snaps into action. “I hope we'll see you again soon?”

That gets her a blank stare from the visor of the golden helmet.

Forcing a smile, a little nervous at that reaction, Dulsissia finds the courage to speak again. “You are family. Nemi would love to get to know her aunt and hear stories about her father growing up.”

There is a moment when there is no sound whatsoever, no movement, it's like everything and everyone is frozen, then the golden helmet gives a brief nod, before the woman presses the button on her vambrace and the door slides open just in time as she marches out.

Dulcy walks over to Davarax, who is staring at Nemi playing with her new necklace. “What's wrong?”

Davarax sighs. He hesitates before he looks over at her. “I don't want her to become a soldier in my sister's army.”

“She wouldn't...” Dulcy says, startled by the very idea. There had been genuine affection in the woman's eyes. Hadn't there?

Davarax shifts his gaze back to Nemi again. “Our parents made my sister's mission in life very clear. Same with me. And who else could you trust more to watch your back in battle and to carry on the legacy than family?”

Corin is flirting again. He's giving his gorgeous smile and pretend-shy eyes to one of the Kryze clan members and it is seriously pissing Din off. Yes, as everyone keeps telling him, Corin doesn't mean anything by it and he's only doing this to dig up what people are thinking about the Davarax-Furyan skirmish, however, it still makes Din's gut tighten up with anger. Yes, he's jealous for no real reason, more than a little creepily possessive, Din knows this, but he can't help feeling what he feels.

He also knows that it will only take one of Corin's smile directed his way for him to forgive him and later tonight, Corin's kisses will guaranteed make Din forget all about it. The kiss-and-make-up bit is almost worth the aggravation of having to watch Corin flirt with someone else. But only almost.

They had been heading back to the house after spending their credits on stupid things in town when the Kryze idiot had grinned at Corin as they were walking by and that was all the excuse Corin needed.

“This is awesome. These guys were not big fans of dad because, you know, the Saxons and Dez aren't exactly his biggest fans either, but Furyan's stunt resulting in him getting his butt kicked has really reminded them how badass dad is!” Corin informs Din in a quietly excited voice as they walk back towards the house after he'd wrapped up his conversation/flirting.

Din tries to be careful to voice his dislike of the Saxons out of respect for Raga, but he knows their resentment towards Davarax has always been because he's the best fighter there is. “Good.” After everything Davarax has done for the Covert for so many years, they should all be kissing his boots, not challenge him. Idiots. “Because if Shezmu starts acting up again, I'll break both of his arms.”

Corin grins and nudges his shoulder against his. “I'll hold your helmet while you do it.”

Din can't help but to grin back and nudge back. This is how it should be: Corin flirting with him.

“Djarin! Wait up.” A voice calls out and Hustan Vizla comes trotting over to them. “Tell the boss we heard back from the contact. They want to meet. On Fionn.”

Din nods. “I'll tell him.” Davarax came up with the idea and has been trying to set things up so that they can have trade directly between their new Covert and a merchant rather than be dependent on the town's supplies, but of course they need Dez' blessing before anything can be realized. Why can't they let some of that idolizing they do of him drip over on Davarax, who is working himself to the bone to make life easier for them? It's so frustrating.

Back at the house, they find Davarax out back in the garden, working on his jetpack, and Din tells him what Hustan had told him. Half a second after that, they hear Neleem's voice out in the hallway, followed by Dez' muttering. Davarax pats Din's shoulder while glancing over at the door. “Thanks, Din. I'll pass on the message.” And before Din can say anything, Davarax shouts: “DEZ!”

Dez appears in the doorway to scowl at him. “What?” Neleem peeks curiously over Dez' shoulder.

“That fancy trader wants to meet before agreeing to any deal.” Davarax informs him. “I can head over to Fionn by myself; it's only a day's travel with the Crest.”

Dez' scowl turns into a thoughtful frown and he considers things for a moment before making his decision. “No...” He sighs and lifts a hand to run it over his face in a weary gesture. “No, I'll go with you. If this deal doesn't go through for whatever reason, then it'll be my fault and not...” He yanks his hand down and scowls hard at the growing grin on Davarax' face. “I'm not- I didn't- It's about keeping the peace here. We don't need more fights, that's all. It's not about... you, you idiot.”

Even Din can hear that is a lie and it actually thaws a tiny fraction of the resentment he's carried towards Dez for more years than he cares to count.

Neleem paws lightly at Dez' arm. “Oooh, I wanna come along too.”

Dez makes a face, visibly uncomfortable. “Do you think that's a good idea...?”

“Yeeees.” Neleem playfully whines as she leans her forehead to Dez' shoulder. “Come on. You guys get to have all the fun. I'm bored. It's just a harmless business trip. Please?”

Dez is obviously flailing for a way to say no, even looks to Davarax for help but only gets a shrug in return there, and his torment is ended by the one he probably least expected to come to his rescue.

“What's going on here?” Dulcy's head pops up behind Dez and Neleem. “What am I missing out on?” She makes her way into the garden and reveals she has Barthor in tow. “Tell me. Mama needs to know.”

“Dez and dad has to go to Fionn to meet with this rich merchant guy to see if he'll agree to this trade deal.” Corin pipes up. “And Neleem wants to go with them.”

Dulcy blinks, intrigued. “That sounds delightful.” She claps her hands together. “Me and Nemi are coming too then. It's going to be great fun!”

Dez has a look of mild horror on his face.

“No, that won't work, mom.” Corin says. “Tomorrow is when the kids are going to make their paper-mush-thing helmets. Nemi will be heartbroken to miss out on that.”

Din sees Dez turn his gaze towards Corin with relief and something close to gratitude.

“Oh.” Dulsissia's shoulders slump slightly with disappointment. “I totally forgot.”

“Don't worry about it.” Corin continues. “You go. Me and Din will look after Nemi. We've been dying to make our own papir-mush-thing helmets.”

Dez blinks and then he basically glares at Corin.

Dulcy hesitates. “But... What if she needs me?”

“Then she'll have the Galaxy's best biggest brother to help her and make her smile again.” Corin declares, nudging Din with his shoulder again. “Plus her darling uncle Din!”

Din wants to act cool and as relaxed as Corin but he can only manage an awkward smile and a nod.

“We'll be back tomorrow...” Davarax says in a gentle voice, sliding his arm around Dulcy's shoulders. “I promise.”

After another moment of hesitation, Dulcy puts on a brave smile and gives a faint nod.

Dez closes his eyes and his lips moves in what is probably some kind of curse, while Neleem lets out a tiny cheer and Davarax hugs his wife a little tighter while he bends down to place a kiss on her hair.

Corin looks over at Din, smiles so brightly it makes Din's heart flip, and says; “Are you ready to be a dad?”

Din nods and hopes his face doesn't reveal just how much he loves the sound of that.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #What If Au

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 1 year

Link

The final chapters (I think?) for this one!

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

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What If... tweets

BONUS, everyone’s favourite father:

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #what if AU #mandorin tweets #Macero's A+ parenting #Davarax #Dulsissia #Dez Vizla #Neleem

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 2 years

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Paz’ protectors

A long-ass look at moments in time with Dez Vizla, doing his best and messing up, and Raga becoming friends with Paz Vizla, while trying to understand his grumpy father...

- - -

Sioben and Shezmu have been fighting all day and her parents are taking turns shouting at Sai Soker for being every bit as stupid as her other two brothers so Raga decides to go some place else. She walks out the door and doesn't look back.

There aren't too many places for Raga to go, the Covert isn't that big, even fewer places where she'd be welcome, so she decides to go and visit her new friend. (Her only friend.)

Visors turn and follow her as young Raga marches towards the door and voices fall silent when she reaches up and thumps her fist against it.

Moments pass and nothing happens, so Raga thumps her fist on it again. Harder.

She's reaching up to thump the door a third time when it slides open and she finds herself staring up at a towering blue shape looking silently down at her with an expressionless t-visor.

Raga glares up at him. “I want to see Paz.”

Her statement is followed by more silence. Then Dez Vizla speaks with a deep grown-up voice.

“You're Sobek and Furyan's kid.”

Duh. Raga knows who she is. “I want to see Paz.”

Dez Vizla stares at her for a little while longer and Raga tries to keep her glare locked with his visor. He's big and his armor is mean-looking with lots of dents and scars, she's heard countless stories from her parents about him being a tough fighter, but she's there to see Paz and Dez is in her way.

Finally Dez lets out a soft huff, almost like he's amused, and he steps aside, gesturing for her to enter. “He's in his room. On the right.”

Nodding her appreciation of him understanding her mission, Raga steps inside and heads for Paz' room. She vaguely notes Dez saying something behind her, but quickly realizes he'd just responded to someone reaching out to him over the comm link in his helmet and discards it as uninteresting as she as more important stuff to focus on; Paz' face when she thumps her fist on the door and enters his room. (Imagine having a room of your own!)

Paz is lying on a sturdy looking bed, reading, and he looks quite startled at the sight of her. It's a stark contrast to the unshakable confidence he usually wears.

“Hi!” Raga grins. “I was bored so I came to visit.” He'd said they were friends, right?

Paz stares for a while longer until his brain seems to function again and his face brightens like someone given a gift for the very first time. “Raga. Hi. Yeah. Come on in.”

He looks so surprised it makes Raga wonder just how many other kids visit him. No one ever visits her at her home. Raga walks over and plops down to sit on his bed. “What are you reading?”

Sitting up, Paz scoots over to her and wastes no time in pointing and eagerly explaining the files with Mandalorian history he's reading. His enthusiasm is contagious and Raga, who usually finds it hard to concentrate on stuff that doesn't involve physical activity, can't help but to get drawn in. He has a way of telling things that makes her want to hear more and especially about the Vizlas. Being a Saxon sucks, her clan is chaotic and boring and has done nothing of importance. She wishes she was a Vizla.

This means it's totally Paz' fault that several hours crawl by without either of them noticing and it's way over dinner-time when Raga realizes and has to run back home.

Her sprint is pointless, though. None of her parents or any of her siblings seems to have noticed she was missing. It's bittersweet luck that Raga is soon too busy fighting Sioben over food to ponder why none of them noticing had caused such a hollow feeling in her chest.

She goes back to visit Paz the very next day. And the next. And the next... and continues to come back.

Life in the Vizla quarters is quite different from what Raga is used to. It's so quiet. There is always food, water, even snacks, while at the same time there is no fighting, stealing or breaking of stuff.

Usually Dez is gone for most of the day, leaving her and Paz to either train or terrorize the other kids, but he's always around for meal times and that is something Raga wishes her own family could manage. Yeah, sure, she knows how to feed herself and guard her meal from her siblings, but it is kind of nice to eat without having to wolf it down and keep her elbows up in case she needs to slam them into a brother straying too close.

Raga rarely brings Paz to the Saxon quarters. While her parents and brothers all swoon over him, she likes it better when she doesn't have to share his attention with them. He is her friend, after all.

“Your family is awesome.” Paz grins after an unavoidable visit to her place and they are walking towards the Vizla quarters.

Raga shrugs, then glances over at him. “Your dad seems pretty awesome too.”

The smile disappears from Paz' face and he abruptly looks more sad than anything else. He stares at the ground as they walk. “He's always so angry.”

“So?” Raga asks, a little confused. Her parents are always angry too. All the time.

“Nothing I do is ever good enough.” Paz mumbles.

Again, Raga is confused. Her parents never praise her either. No grown up ever does. Why would Dez Vizla be any different? Yet, despite her failure to understand, Paz is her friend and if he needs someone to praise his achievements, Raga will happily take on the responsibility. “Well, I think you're awesome.”

Paz looks over at her again and his grin returns. Confident and smug once more, he looks like himself again. Good. “Want to go and hassle Inslo?”

Raga cackles. They haven't bothered Inslo for over a week. His bruises must have healed by now. “Let's go!”

Life used to only be about fighting, but having a friend means Raga actually has someone to talk to in between the fighting and that is really... nice.

So what if her parents don't care what she's doing as long as she isn't hurt? So what if Dez keeps pushing Paz to do better even when he's the very best? Who cares about parents? They have each other now. They don't need anyone else.

Which means that when Paz starts training with Davarax, Raga is not happy. That man is... different and she doesn't like how Paz worships him. However, after Paz manages to persuade Davarax into letting her train with them, she decides over time that she doesn't exactly 'hate' Davarax after all. (Maybe just a little bit when she has a bad day and he hugs her for the first time and that makes her cry without her understanding why. Him stroking her hair while she cries only makes her bawl even louder. So embarrassing.)

Yeah, turns out that Davarax is pretty cool. He jokes with them, he believes in them, he's not angry like the other grown-ups, and he never once accuses her of lying or tells her he doesn't have time if she needs to talk to him. Davarax even teaches her it is okay to use her head instead of her fists at times; to think instead of screaming. It's not easy, she fails most of the time, but Davarax doesn't lose patience and never gives up on her. He is very different from the other adults.

And maybe that's why her mother and father aren't huge fans of him? Her parents respect Davarax, but they don't admire him like they do old man Vizla. Same with her brothers. At least they don't hate Davarax, which she's pretty sure Paz' father does. It is really confusing because everyone else in the Covert likes Davarax. He is really popular with everyone but old man Vizla! So why is Davarax always alone...?

Adults are weird.

Raga can't wait until she's all grown up. At least life is a lot easier when you're an adult!

Months later...

The day begins when Dez is yanked out of sleep one hour ahead of his schedule due to yet another fight breaking out between Sungodt and Uto. His HUD starts blinking with so many calls from them and their clan members that it looks like the control panel of a starship about to crash.

Mediating between the different families requires a mix of smoothing ruffled feathers and dark threats of worse things. It takes ages before they fall in line and Dez can actually start his day.

Paz is a horror to get out of bed, as usual. Dez does not have time or patience to deal with his sullen mood today as it is only a matter of time before his HUD starts blinking again. He clenches his jaw hard to keep from snapping at the boy when he complains about the breakfast not being to his liking, firmly reminding himself that his son has no idea about the food shortage threatening the Covert and how they can't afford to be picky right now. He's a kid, he shouldn't worry.

Dez orders him to eat and Paz scowls and obeys.

Half a caff later, Dez is called up and informed that there is now also a possible water crisis after over half of their reserves tested positive for some weird sounding bacteria, which, if ingested, would have left them all sick and dying. Great. Perfect. Just what they needed.

Panic is soon threatening to spread throughout the Covert and Dez stalks out to make sure everyone sees that everything is under control. It's not, but they don't need to know that. Panic never helps.

Once he has calmed things down, Dez and Sungodt inform their leader about the situation.

She insists on them waiting for Davarax' return and have him arrange for more water. She coldly reminds them of the rule of only one being allowed above and the risk of discovery. Dez coldly reminds her that if Davarax is delayed, they will run out of water, and why risk it when he and his clan are perfectly capable of handling this?

Dez has just been put firmly, and publicly, in his place by their ruthless and uncompromisable leader when his HUD lights up with another call and he's informed that someone has stolen weapons from the armory.

On his way there, his HUD blinks and a fellow Vizla yells at Dez about the fuel restrictions making it close to impossible for him to let his daughter train with her jetpack. Dez promises him half of his ration in addition to his regular share next week and grits his teeth hard when the Vizla mutters how Pre never would have let things come to this.

Tension is throbbing in Dez' temples when he arrives at the armory and discovers that several rifles and three grenades are missing. He organizes for there to be a team of three to investigate and find the culprit.

No word on Davarax' status.

Dez is in the middle of mediating between two Mandalorians accusing each other of slights when his HUD lights up again. This time it is someone in the Fighting Corps telling him he needs to come to the lower levels and pick up Paz as he had gotten into a vicious fight with another kid and had broken their arm during said fight. The injured kid is of course part of the Kryze clan and they are not happy. This day keeps getting better and better. He storms down to fetch his son.

“I don't have time for this today.” Dez growls, stalking ahead with Paz shuffling after him. Thank the stars that Paz is unharmed at least. “Why couldn't you have found someone else to pick on?”

“He started it.” Paz mutters.

“I don't care.” Dez fires back. The Kryze clan will be crawling up Dez' ass because of this. “This is the fourth time I've had to pick you up this week. There will not be a fifth. You hear me, boy?”

“Yes, father.” Paz mutters.

He drops Paz off at their quarters and then goes back to trying to keep his people from killing each other or dying from lack of food, water or means to defend themselves. He spends half of the dinner time at home talking to Uto over the comm link in regards to the possibility of trading in some food from above. Paz gives him the cold shoulder and eats in sullen silence which means Dez can talk uninterrupted for once. Dez has no appetite for food anyway. His stomach churns and burns.

More calls. More mediating and trying to avert one thing after another. It's late when Dez finally enters the Vizla quarters and hopes to get some rest. His son is already in bed, hopefully asleep for hours by now. Dez walks over to the small cabinet in the corner in the excuse for a kitchen nook they have, where he keeps his one bottle of liquor. He grabs it and a glass, wanders over to the kitchen table and takes a seat on one of the tall stools next to it.

Pouring himself a drink, Dez removes his helmet, sighs and rubs his eyes before downing his shot. His eyes are sore from all the flashing lights on his HUD all day. His head aches. His stomach aches. (He forgot to eat after messing up dinner, didn't he?) Even his back aches. Everything aches.

A faint blinking light can be seen along the base of his helmet, informing him there is a message on his HUD, but Dez merely pours himself another drink. Two minutes. He just needs two minutes.

Five minutes later, he has his third drink in his hand, but instead of drinking it, Dez has folded his arms on top of the table and is resting his head on them while watching the blinking light peeking out from the thin line between the base of the helmet and the table.

Six minutes. He just needs six minutes. He'll handle it, he will, just... six minutes.

Dez starts violently when there is a knock on the door.

He sets the drink down, puts his helmet on and marches over to open it while flicking away the message on the HUD, which turns out to be nothing but a reminder of an invite to a shooting contest. If someone is knocking on Dez Vizla's door in the middle of the night, it has to be something really serious going on. Davarax? Injured? Dead? Incoming attack? A plague?

The door slides open and Dez stares with utter surprise as tiny Raga Saxon stares up at him.

“I want to see Paz.” She says.

The unlikely friendship has been going on for over six months now and while it is cute and he's grown somewhat used to her showing up at the Vizla quarters, Dez has to admit she was the last soul he expected to find on his doorstep at this hour. He shakes his head a little to bring himself out of his daze and to show her his disbelief. “Raga. It's in the middle of the night. He's asleep. As you should be.”

Raga frowns, as fearless as ever. “Can't you wake him up?”

Dez exhales his frustration. “No.” He reaches up and taps his helmet's communication system, bringing up the person he wants to talk to and sends her a call request. Luckily Sobek answers more or less right away, clearly as awake as her children, and Dez understands why as he has to lower the volume of the conversation even before it begins due to all the shouting in the background of the Saxon quarters.

“Dez. What do you want?” Sobek asks.

Dez feels a flicker of irritation. “Have you noticed that one of your children are missing?” He doesn't wait for her to answer. “I got Raga here on my doorstep.”

“Oh.” Sobek sounds mildly surprised but not overly worried. “Send her home then.”

Dez looks down at Raga. She's yawning. She looks tired, tiny with her slightly oversized shirt and massive hair, frail despite her fierce glare, and Dez hears the non-stop shouting in the background of his connection to Sobek. He hesitates. There is no way she'll get any sleep back there. A kid needs her sleep. Dez turns his helmet away from the girl and disconnects his outward microphone. “If it's okay with you, she can just sleep over and hang out with Paz tomorrow. He's a nightmare now that Beskar Boy isn't here, so you'd be doing me a favor.”

Sobek snorts. “Yeah, she gets that way too when he's gone. But I'm not paying for anything she breaks. And don't forget to feed her.” She disconnects and things go quiet.

Dez sighs. And looks down at Raga again, who keeps staring up at him like he has offended her ancestors. He turns his mic on again. “Your mother says you can sleep over here if you want to?”

Raga blinks. “Really? Cool.” She grins and walks inside like she owns the place.

Dez closes the door and follows her. “You hungry?” She shrugs. Paz does that a lot and it drives Dez crazy. He's not in the mood for a debate so he makes the choice for her. “You're hungry.” He puts his hands under her arms, palms against her frail ribs, and lifts her up. She weighs about the same as a tiny bird. He seats her on one of the tall bar stools by the kitchen table. There she waits, feet dangling and elbows on the table, while Dez puts together food for her. He rarely eats his breakfast anyway and this scrawny girl needs food more than he does anyway. When Dez places the plate in front of her, he notices the dried blood by her left nostril. He frowns. “You okay?”

Already digging into the food, Raga sends him a look that makes it seem like she's more worried about his sanity.

Dez stupidly gestures to where his nose is behind his helmet. “Blood.”

“Oh.” Raga rubs her lower arm under her nose a couple of times in a futile effort to wipe it away. “Stupid Sioben.” She grins up at Dez. “But I made him bleed too!”

Reluctantly impressed, Dez hums thoughtfully. Sioben is a lot bigger than she is and has more training. “Next time, make sure he's the only one bleeding. Protect your face and plant your elbow in his.” Raga nods heartily and goes back to eating.

Dez gets a clean cloth, wets it with water and offers it to her. “Here.”

Once the girl is clean and has finished eating, Dez lifts her off the chair and sets her on her feet again. “Okay, I'll show you where you'll sleep.” He has taken exactly one step when he feels her small hand take a hold of his like it is a normal thing to do and Dez freezes. His heart clenches. Hard. He bounces between flashbacks to when Paz would hold his hand like this and a sudden urge to rip apart anyone who would dare to hurt this girl. Clearing his throat, Dez forces himself out of it and walks on with her tiny hand in his. “You want to borrow one of Paz' shirts to sleep in or are you okay like this?” “This is good.” Raga replies cheerfully. She then looks around, wide eyed, at all the weapons and trophies Dez has on the walls of his room. His pride and joys next after his son.

“Don't touch anything.” Dez warns her as she lets go of his hand and runs over to the bed. “And shoes off.” He watches her kick off her shoes and then crawl into his bed to sit there with obvious glee on her face as she looks around. Dez considers removing his weapons but decides against it. She's no idiot. “I mean it; don't touch anything.”

Raga nods. “Promise.”

Dez points a thumb over his shoulder. “Refresher is on the left. I'll be sleeping in the living room. If you need anything, you come ask me. Understood?”

“Understood.” Raga declares like a good Mandalorian, lying down and getting comfortable.

Dez turns to leave and is about to turn off the light, but pauses and glances back at her. “Lights on or off?” After Dez came back injured from a mission when Paz was about six, his son kept getting nightmares and couldn't sleep with the lights off for months. He has no idea if Raga has nightmares about stuff too.

“Off is good.” Raga declares, snug and pleased and eyes closed even before he turns off the lights.

Dez walks away, hears the door slide shut behind him, but, speaking of his son... Dez pauses by Paz' room, hesitates, then he opens the door and looks inside.

Paz is asleep on his side, facing the door, with the room temperature far too low and his blanket halfway to the floor as usual. Dez sighs. Some things never change. Paz kicked the blanket off even as a baby. How his boy isn't constantly sniffling and coughing is a mystery to him.

Stepping inside the room and walking over to the bed, careful not to wake his son, Dez studies him for a couple of seconds and feels just how much he misses him. The boy is right there, but Dez still misses him so much it hurts. He carefully pulls the blanket up to Paz' shoulder, almost tucks him in, before running a feather-light hand through the boy's unruly hair.

All they do is argue and scowl at each other these days. The only time Paz will smile is when he's around Davarax, and stars above, that feels like a dagger in Dez' heart. He swears it was only yesterday when Paz wanted nothing more than for Dez to pick him up and walk around with him in his arms until he fell asleep. He can still feel the phantom sensation of the last hug the boy gave him over a year ago. He can still hear the echo of Paz' delighted laugh when Dez tried and failed spectacularly at making bantha shaped Gloomrot Pancakes. It's Dez' own fault, he knows that, for pushing Paz so hard, but he has stood by so many Mandalorian parents mourning their children, screaming their grief at the unfeeling stars, and Dez will NOT lose his child. The mere thought...

Dez runs his fingers through Paz' hair once more. His son. The one good thing in his life. The one reason why he continues to fight for change. The darkness doesn't bother Dez, he's used to it and his own childhood is long gone, but Paz should grow up free and be able to spread his wings.

Dez walks out of the room and heads into the living room where he throws a couple of blankets on the floor and tries to get comfortable on them. He hopes despite experience telling him otherwise that there will be no flashing HUD to wake him ahead of schedule tomorrow...

When Raga opens her eyes she's not quite sure what is more confusing; the silence or the fact that there is an Amban phase-pulse blaster hanging on the wall over her head. Then she remembers and sits up with a growing grin on her face. She's in the Vizla quarters. Awesome!

Raga jumps out of bed and forgets to put her shoes on before darting to Paz' room. She kind of forgets to knock as well and merely barges in, jumps up on his bed and cackles as her friend is startled awake.

“Raga?!” Paz scrambles up into a sitting position, all eyes and disbelief. “What are you...?”

“Surprise!” Raga drops down to sit with crossed legs. “Time to get up, sleepyhead!”

Paz keeps staring at her. His hair is crazy and his clothes are rumpled. “Does my father know-”

“He knows.” Raga confirms so that they can move on to more important stuff. “You want to arm wrestle? I'm stronger than last week, for your information. I could probably take you down now.”

Unfortunately, Paz has no interest in arm wrestling. He's grumpy and complains about it being far too early for that. And then, weirdly enough, he insists on dragging her into the living room to find his father.

Dez Vizla is still asleep, on the floor, lying on his back with his hands folded on top of his stomach. The helmet hides his face but his even breathing tells Raga he is out cold. Which is why she is anything but prepared for when she and Paz approach him, Dez goes from his relaxed position to drawing a blaster from his side and aiming it at them within the blink of an eye.

Raga flinches and Paz freezes.

Lowering the blaster, Dez sits up with a faint groan of discomfort from sleeping on the floor. “I thought... Don't... What are you two doing up this early?” He holsters the weapon, reaches up to rub at his face and grunts annoyed when his hand finds the helmet there instead.

“She...” Paz has to clear his throat. “She woke me up. What is she doing here?”

“Showing me it is possible to get you awake and out of bed before noon, it seems.” Dez battles his way up on his feet. “I wouldn't have believed it was possible if I didn't see it here myself.”

Beaming with pride, Raga bumps her shoulder against Paz' arm, which he ignores.

“I suppose you womp rats want breakfast.” Dez says, the last word drawn out in a yawn. He rolls his shoulders and shakes off his drowsiness before walking towards the kitchen nook. “Come on.”

Paz helps Raga climb up on the obnoxiously tall bar stool, then climbs the one next to her to take a seat as well, and the two begin talking about who is the more awesome Mandalorian hero while Dez starts working on their breakfast. A debate that soon develops into a loud, full-blown argument.

Old man Vizla mumbles his words compared to her parents' yelling, which makes it is easy to ignore him telling them to keep it down. Paz proves he is incredibly stubborn and Raga's frustration grows as he refuses to accept her point of view and merely keeps firing back at her with fact after boring fact. Why can't he just accept she's right? SHE IS ALWAYS RIGHT!

Raga isn't aware of just how loud she is shouting until Dez' palm slams down on the table.

Raga and Paz both jump, along with everything on the table, and she suddenly realizes just how big Dez Vizla is as he looms and blocks out the light behind him. There is a lot Raga doesn't understand about the life in the Covert, but she abruptly understands why everyone steps aside when Dez Vizla walks down a hallway.

“We,” Dez says, his voice is scarily quiet, “do not shout at the table.” His visor looks from one to the other. “Okay?”

Paz is quick to nod and Raga does the same.

“Good.” Dez says. He lets the silence hang in the air for a couple of seconds longer, then he exhales, his shoulders eases down, and he turns back to the plates he had been preparing.

“I still think you're wrong.” Raga whispers to Paz, who sends her a wide-eyed look of disbelief before frowning and whispering back that he's not.

“Is too.” Raga insists, still whispering, and grins.

“Am not!” Paz hisses.

“You're both wrong.” Dez declares with tired ease, putting down a plate each in front of them. “Mandalore the Ultimate is the most awesome of them all. Now, less talking, more eating.” He turns away again to prepare a cup of caff while Paz and Raga attack their breakfast with relish.

“You want to start some trouble later?” Raga asks between bites.

Paz nods and makes a sound of approval as he has his mouth full.

“No.” Dez says, his back towards them and his focus on heating up his caff. “You can't. It's cousin Hustan's Life Day celebration today, Paz. Remember? We have to be there.”

Paz slumps and sighs.

Raga pouts and prods at her food instead of eating it.

Dez's helmet moves as he glances back at them. He is silent for a moment, then turns fully towards them and crosses his arms. “Do you want to bring your friend, Paz?”

Paz brightens considerably. “I can?”

Raga sits up straighter and is all eyes. “He can?”

Dez shrugs. “If your parents give their permission, it's okay with me.”

Knowing her parents will never say no to this, Raga cackles with glee and shares a happy grin with Paz before looking over at Dez again, who is turning back to his beloved caff once more. Okay, old man Vizla may be strict and a bit intimidating, but he's not all bad. Raga decides she likes him.

She just wishes he wasn't so difficult to read some times.

A year later...

The first thing Dez sees when he steps into the quarters is his son and Raga huddled together on the uncomfortable bench to the right of the kitchen nook. He's not overly surprised at spotting the girl. This last year, Raga has spent more time here than own home and he'd gotten so tired of opening the door for her that he'd given her a code key of her own to the place. One with a 7.2 second delay so she can enter by herself and him having enough time to put on his helmet if he's not wearing it.

The kids have clearly tried to make the bench a little more comfortable by adding some folded blankets to sit on, which is good, but while Paz is munching away on what is probably his third breakfast that day, Raga is doing her very best imitation of a firm massage below his left knee, and that signals something not good at all.

Frowning, Dez takes a couple of steps towards them before he leans his shoulder against the wall and observes. Despite his trademark gluttony, Paz does look a little pale. “Is it hurting again?”

Usually Paz experiences his joint aches at night, but he has suffered them during daytime as well.

Swallowing with a guilty look, Paz looks like he doesn't know what the right answer would be.

“Yep.” Raga declares, not looking up from her important work. “His knee started swelling too.”

Frowning harder, Dez does not like the idea of him in pain, yet... there isn't much he can do. He doubts Paz would approve of him ordering Raga away to take over the massage. It's not a life threatening situation. Plus, his stubborn son usually refuses to use pain relief as that makes him sleepy. Sighing, Dez straightens and turns to grab a protein bar and head for his room to eat.

“I-I can handle it!” Paz shouts after him.

Of course he can. Dez knows how tough his son is and so ignores his stuttered words. He doesn't doubt Paz. He just doesn't like his son being in pain.

The very next day, Dez has some good luck. He ends up training with Beast, the best medic the Covert has had in his lifetime. While Dez can't remember the man's actual name instead of his nickname, he has full confidence in his skills.

“Just how long will this be going on?” Dez asks, blocking Beast's attack with ease, having given the man a quick recap of Paz' medical history. “I mean, the scans showed there was nothing wrong with him so they assumed it was growing pains, but isn't he getting a bit old for that? And what if it is something else?” The only thing worse than seeing his son in pain is the thought of him being ill.

Beast hums, tries and fails at a second attack. “Kids do get them up to they're about twelve, some even longer, and I'm not surprised he still has them. Your boy towers over others his age.”

“Yeah, but...” Dez hammers his fist against Beast's ribs in three harsh jabs, knocking the air out of him before shoving him away. “It can get pretty bad. Is there really no way to make it stop?”

“Not... really...” Beast wheezes, stumbling a couple of steps as he fights to keep standing.

Dez spins around, plants his boot in Beast's gut and sends him slamming into the wall. “How about making them less intense?” He asks, watching as Beast sinks down to sit on the floor, coughing and gasping for air. “There has to be something I can do.”

Lifting a hand, signaling that he needs a moment, Beast coughs and groans for a good while before struggling his way back up on his unsteady feet. “Nothing that science can... can back up.” More coughing before he tries to get back into a fighting pose. “I got nothing to... verify it, but village folks where I... grew up... They used... used to give kids with 'invisible ' pains... some kukuia nuts. They claimed it helped.” He gulps for air and rolls his shoulders before launching himself at Dez.

Dez sidesteps with a thoughtful hum and rams his elbow absently into Beast's lower back, barely noting his pained yelp. Kukuia nuts. How the hell is Dez going to get a hold of that?

It takes calling in a lot of favors, costs half a fortune and they take over two weeks to arrive.

Paz eyes the kukuia nuts with raw disgust when Dez holds out the small bag for him to take. The boy is still chewing on his latest theft from Dez' snack stash after having devoured his own stash within the first day of them getting supplies last week. “Those taste like crap.”

“Take them.” Dez growls, irritation growing in the face of Paz' sour attitude.

“I don't want them.” The boy mutters with a sullen expression on his face.

Dez shoves the bag at Paz' chest. “Too bad. You're eating them.” He gives a final, firm shove. “It's for your own good. Binge on these instead of all of those snacks you're always chowing down. These are much better for your body. Understood?”

To Dez' surprise, there is a flash of genuine hurt in Paz' eyes before he grabs the bag and stomps into his room. Wait, what just happened? Paz got that upset because he has to trade some of his snacks with a healthier option? Seriously?

Dez pours himself a drink and wonders how he is going to survive Paz' teenage years if the boy becomes even moodier and more unpredictable...

One day later...

“We're going outside!” Raga blurts out as she stalks inside the quarters with Paz in tow, both still sweaty and out of breath from today's training.

If any other child had said that, Dez would have instantly thought they were a liar, an idiot or both. But Raga is neither. Dez stalks forward to stand in front of the two children. “Outside? Explain.” His son has never been outside, neither has Raga as far as he knows, and Dez had not anticipated their golden leader giving permission until Paz was a lot closer to his thirteenth Life Day.

“Davarax.” Paz says, a little cautiously as he knows his father's distaste for his hero.

Davarax, of course. Dez clenches his jaw. That really does explain everything. He's the only one who can do whatever he wants and get away with it. “Why is he taking you outside?”

“Not just us.” Raga says, as if Dez is an idiot for not magically knowing everything. “Din and Barthor too. We're going to sleep in the woods! It's going to be an adventure.”

Dez blinks. The man wants to steal the expression on Paz' face as he sees the outside world for the first time, but also keep him outside until the next day? Dez turns, stalks over to kitchen table to get some distance between him and the kids, then he viciously stabs at his vambrace to send a call request to Beskar Boy himself. It takes about two and a half second before he replies and Dez doesn't really give him the chance to finish his greeting. “You've told my son you're going to bring him outside? That you're going, what, camping?”

“I, uh...” Davarax says, then clears his throat. “I was hoping to talk to you before they told you.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you should have talked to me before telling him he can go?” Dez growls angrily. “He's still my son, not yours. Don't you forget that.”

“I know.” Davarax's voice has a touch of sadness at having to concede to that fact. Good.

“Don't you 'ever' promise him anything without talking to me first.” Dez states, half-turning away as both Paz and Raga are watching him and he doesn't want them to hear.

“I didn't mean...” Davarax sighs. “I'd gotten permission from the other kids' parents and he overheard.”

Of course he'd talk to Dez last. It doesn't matter that Dez is a Vizla, he's still the least important one in Beskar Boy's eyes. Dez clenches his jaw hard while a ball of intense anger burns inside his chest. Glancing over his shoulder, he sees Paz watching him with resigned sadness in his eyes as he expects Dez to say he can't go with the others. Closing his eyes, Dez turns away again and he is struggling hard to keep his temper in check. “You made sure the other three were going and that he'd hear it, in order to corner me into letting him go too or be the villain of the decade.”

“No, that's not-” “Fine!” Dez grits out, wishing Davarax was there so he could punch him. Repeatedly. He wants to punch him so bad. “Fine, he can go.” He disconnects, not bothering to tell the idiot to keep his son safe because whatever else Davarax is, he is a Mandalorian and will guard the children with his life. He turns back to the still staring Paz and Raga, takes a breath in a desperate attempt to sound collected, before giving a nod. “You can go.”

While the children cheer, Dez stalks by them and out of the Vizla quarters. He's so angry he has to get away. Two messages flashes on his HUD but he simply flicks them away as he's not able to focus on anything other than the fact that he won't be by his son's side when he sees the outside world for the first time. He wanted to see the wonder on Paz' face. He wanted to be there if things got a bit scary and maybe be Paz' hero one last time before he fully outgrows the need for one.

When he spots Furyan Saxon, Dez feels a jolt of relief. Perfect. While Furyan, if he has paid attention enough to know the trip is happening, won't care that Davarax will be the one to see the awe on his daughter's face as Raga gets to see the outside world, the man has yet to turn down a challenge from anyone wanting to fight him and he's more than strong enough to be a distraction.

Furyan doesn't disappoint. The man would never have been able to catch Sobek's attention if he was a weakling. The fight verges on ugly, draws no small crowd to observe, yet ends amiably and Dez gets to pretend while they are doing their best to hurt and bruise each other that he's merely angry and not, well, he hates the word but it is the only thing to describe what he's feeling; sad.

Dez' broken ribs are healing but they burn with every breath he takes by the time he hands Paz the bag with food and clothing he has prepared for his adventure with his hero. “Here.”

Paz accepts the bag, anxious but excited. He's eager to see the outside. His brave boy. A true Vizla.

Missing out on this experience burns more than his ribs but Dez tries to act neutral. He shoves a small bag with kukuia nuts at Paz. Getting those aches of his would ruin a lot of the experience.

“I don't want them.” Paz mumbles, instantly sullen.

“Too bad.” Dez holds the bag out until Paz reluctantly takes it. A message flashes on his HUD, something about the missing weapons from the armory again, and Dez feels a flare of angry irritation. Idiots. This Covert is 90% idiots. “I have to go. You got everything you need?”

Paz nods, staring unhappily at the kukuias as if Dez has handed him poison. For the love of...

“Remember, you are a Vizla.” Dez points out, a little sharper than he intended. “Act like it out there. Watch over those other kids. Keep them safe.” Raga is a survivor, definitely, he's not worried about her, but a harsh breeze might knock skinny Barthor over and doe-eyed Din is the youngest of the group which makes him vulnerable.“Understood?”

Looking up at him, Paz nods again, but now there is unease in his suddenly-very-young face.

Dez hesitates, searches for something else to say, something... reassuring maybe, but then his HUD lights up with call request and he sees it is Sungodt. Usually that means it is something urgent. Good. He'll take any distraction now. Dez reaches out and gives Paz' shoulder a quick pat, wanting to hug him but is fairly certain Paz wouldn't want him to, before he turns and walks away while accepting the call. “Sungodt, what's wrong?”

The kids are back the next day, all bright-eyed and excited, and Dez feels a mix of relief and no small amount of bitter envy as Paz can't stop talking about Davarax and their big adventure.

Weeks later...

“This way.” Davarax declares as Raga and the others follow the others out of the fighting pit. Every three months the kids are allowed to enter the pit and butt heads in a milder imitation of the fights arranged by the grown ups. It's awesome. First the camping trip, now this.

Raga has several impressive bumps and bruises to show off and she swaggers her way over to her teacher. She can't stop grinning.

Barthor scowls at her from his hiding place behind Davarax, still upset that he couldn't join due to his wrist healing from those bullies ganging up on him and breaking it yesterday. Din and Paz shuffle after her with the walk of men condemned to death.

“Cheer up.” Davarax says to Barthor. “You'll get your chance next time.” Then he turns to Raga as she comes to a halt in front of him and reaches out to give her a light tap under her chin with his index finger. “Third in your group, Raga. Five up from last time. Impressive!”

Raga beams. She's worked really hard to improve. This is awesome!

Davarax looks over at Din and Paz and hums. “What's wrong with you two?”

“Eleven.” Din mutters, shoulders up and fists deep in the pockets of his pants. He's got a blooming black eye. “Nothing impressive about ending up as number eleven.”

Davarax places a hand on his shoulder and makes Din look up at him. “Listen, Din. Eleven means you did better than five others in your group, who, may I remind you, have as far as I know trained for this from they were able to throw a punch. You've only started training, Din. Basically everyone expected you to place last and you proved them very wrong. That is 'very' impressive, kid.”

Raga blinks as she sees Din both smile and get tears in his eyes. It puzzles her. How can he be sad and happy at the same time? But then Davarax' attention turns to Paz and her gaze follows.

“Paz. You came in second, that's amazing. Why the long face?”

Shrugging, Paz looks away. “My father won't be happy. I should have won.”

Raga's happiness fades a little. He's right. Dez won't be pleased. He had been called away so he couldn't watch the fights, but he will be expecting to hear Paz has won and Paz always tries to live up to his father's expectations, no matter the cost. Dez won't hit him or anything, he's not like that, but his words do tend to leave Paz sad and awfully quiet. He takes his father's words too seriously.

“Inslo is several years older than you and top of his class.” Davarax points out. “But you had him scared and struggling. You did brilliant, Paz. You made me so karking proud I was worried Inslo's teacher was going to challenge 'me' to a fight because I was rooting so loudly for you.” He yanks Paz into a hug, pulls in Din with his other arm, then looks over at Raga and Barthor. “You all make me so very proud, you hear me?”

Raga can feel herself glowing with happiness because she hears how much he means it. So what if her own parents can't ever be bothered to watch the fights, having seen far too many with her brothers already, as long as she has Davarax she knows someone cares whether she wins or loses. She knows at least one grown-up has faith in her!

They spend some time together as a group talking about the fights before they head their different ways. Well, Raga tags along with Paz, knowing Dez won't be pleased with Paz' second place and her parents won't care if she stays gone for a bit longer.

Entering the quarters, Raga hears Paz let out a soft sigh of relief when there is no sign of his father, but the relief is short-lived as the door slides open behind them and Dez comes stalking in. He's talking to someone on his comm system, as usual, and his shoulders are tense with anger, as usual. After a moment of standing like a statue by the kitchen table, Dez turns and focuses on them, clearly done with yelling at whomever. “Fine, you can share some treats to celebrate your win.”

“I didn't win.” Paz mumbles, staring at the floor.

“What?” Dez says with a touch of disbelief, taking a step closer.

“I didn't win.” Paz repeats, even lower, almost a whisper. “I got second place.”

Dez doesn't move closer. Doesn't move at all, really. Doesn't speak. Just looms. And Raga can't take the tension. “I took third place in my group!”

Despite being pleased that Dez' visor moves away from Paz, Raga finds she almost regrets opening her mouth when his focus is locked on her and her alone. “Third.” He echoes in a flat voice.

She nods.

“So neither of you won.” Dez states, sounding far from impressed.

Paz remains frozen, staring at the floor, but Raga frowns with no small amount of offense. She sticks her chin out. “I only got fifth place last time. And some of the ones I went up against will be in the teen group next time. I did good.”

“But you didn't win.” Dez points out.

Raga grits her teeth before deflating. “No.” For some reason, third place suddenly sucks.

Dez nods. He looks from her to Paz, back at her, then Paz again. “Losing a fight inside the Covert will only hurt your pride. Lose a fight outside of these walls, it will most likely cost you your life. You can't settle for 'good'. You have to be the best to make it. Understood?”

Paz and Raga both nod.

Dez walks over, reaches out and places one big hand on Paz' shoulder and the other on Raga's shoulder. “Next time there won't be any second or third place. You will win.”

And he's right. They do win. Dez teaching them some moves and adding several hours of exhausting and painful training helps, but mostly Raga suspects it is the idea of having to face him after failing to win is what pushes both her and Paz to victory. They can't lose. They can't.

Paz is a shivering and bloody mess in the finale when he stands silent and victorious over his unconscious opponent, ignoring the shocked and slightly horrified muttering from the onlookers. Equally bloody, Raga refuses to tap out in her own finale, dislocating her shoulder on purpose to break free from her opponent's grip and in the end she finishes it with a kov'nyn so hard it sends the other child slamming to the ground and causes more horrified muttering to break out.

The taste of victory is glorious. There is a burst of happiness and pride in her chest as Dez applauds his approval and Raga fails to understand why Davarax is clearly not happy as he silently wipes the blood off her face.

A couple of months later...

Raga sits on the floor in Paz' room and they are working on creating their own blaster replicas from garbage they have hoarded over the last week. She puts down her soon-to-be-awesome-blaster and lifts her head with determination. “I'm thirsty. I'm going to get some water.”

Paz doesn't take his eyes off his project. “Whatever. My blaster is going to be done before yours.”

“No, it won't.” Raga snipes. “I'll be quick.” She jumps to her feet and runs out of the room.

The plan is to run to the kitchen nook, grab a cup, fill it with some water from the big cans there and then run back to drink it in the room so she wouldn't lose too much time. However, Raga comes to an abrupt halt once she emerges from Paz' room and sees Dez is standing by the kitchen table with his back towards her.

Oh. Old man Vizla had been out somewhere when she arrived earlier and she'd failed to hear him enter the quarters. Hesitating, she studies him.

Raga is not afraid of anyone. She's not. Nope. But she also knows better than to provoke Dez when he's already in a bad mood, which is more often than not. It's not fear, it's being smart.

Scanning his back and shoulders, Raga concludes he is definitely angry. His voice is muffled by his helmet, but the sharp tone and rapid fire of words underlines just how angry he is. No, not angry; Dez is furious. And that means the clever thing to do is to retreat to Paz' room before she's detected.

Raga is about to turn and flee when she sees Dez stabbing a finger at his vambrace, clearly cutting the connection to the source of his anger, and it is followed by something very unexpected.

Dez places his hand flat on the table, as if he doesn't trust his legs, and his shoulders sink under some invisible weight. His helmet tips forward a little as he lets out a slow and weary exhale.

There are a lot of things Raga don't know, too many things for her taste, but she definitely knows what a tired person looks like. Her parents are always tired at the end of the day. Davarax is tired when he comes back from his missions. Barthor's parents are constantly tired at any hour. She sees it a lot. She just never thought she'd see Dez Vizla tired. Ever. It's unsettling. She didn't think it was possible as he's always so strong and loud and invincible. But now he looks... yeah, tired.

Shuffling over, Raga climbs up on one of those stupidly tall bar stools, settles and stares at the man who hasn't even noticed her presence. He must be truly exhausted. “Are you okay?” Raga asks.

Starting, Dez jolts upright and spins around to look at her. “Dank farrik, Raga, don't sneak up on people like that! Why are you- When- Where did you come from?”

Dangling her feet, Raga shrugs. “I was in Paz' room. We're making blasters and I went to get me some water.”

Clearing his throat, sounding a little awkward and very annoyed, Dez turns and grabs a cup, fills it with water and just about smacks it down on the table in front of her. A third of the liquid splashes out of the cup. “Here. Take it and go back to working on your blaster. Stop creeping around.”

She tilts her head as she watches him and Raga frowns a bit. “Are you? Okay?”

Dez stares at her for a second or two, then he straightens, crosses his arms and answers with a defensive question of his own. “Why wouldn't I be okay?”

“You look tired.” Raga says.

Dez doesn't move. “I'm not tired.”

Raga is not surprised he's lying. Adults often lie. But the way he stands; defiant, arms crossed and chin out, it is the exact same pose Paz has when he's hurting and acting all tough, and Raga forgets to be intimidated. All she can think about is what Davarax does when Paz is feeling down.

She slides off her seat, lands on her feet, walks around the table to face Dez, who is watching her warily, and Raga wraps her arms around his waist in a slightly awkward hug. Resting her cheek to his stomach, ignoring how Dez unfolds his arms and tenses up, Raga says what Davarax always says in some shape or form; “It's okay not to be okay some times. Just do your best.”

Hugging him for a couple of seconds longer, it's like hugging a statue, Raga eventually lets go and turns to walk back to the room before Paz finishes his blaster and won't shut up about it.

“Hey.” Dez' voice mumbles.

Stopping, Raga looks back at him.

Dez is holding the cup of water and he walks over to hand it to her. “You forgot this.” His voice is... strange. Quiet. “Here.” When she takes the cup, he nods towards Paz' room. “Go away. Go. Shoo.”

Raga obeys. To her irritation, Paz does finish his blaster first.

Years later...

As years go by, Dez keeps pushing for change but it is a hopeless battle as long as their golden armoured leader and Davarax won't budge. Paz has to grow up in the darkness, their Covert remains hidden and weak, and some days Dez has to force himself to get up in the morning.

“You could just leave, you know.” Zylfie says to him one such day as she hoists up her pants, still a little breathless and probably grinning under her green helmet judging by her tone.

“I can't.” Dez mutters, closing his belt, locking and adjusting it until it feels comfortable again. He's also a bit breathless after their tryst but not grinning. He had brought Paz to this Covert, had made the choice not to follow Pre but her instead, so Dez can't give up. He has to believe this will be worth it in the end. Besides, bringing the Vizlas with him, possibly the Saxons and some other clans too, would leave the Covert close to defenseless and Dez can't do that to fellow Mandalorians. He doesn't want any of the people living in the Covert dead, he wants everyone strong and free.

“Whatever, stud.” Zylfie grabs her weapons from where she'd placed them on the table after they'd entered the empty supply room and she holsters them with practiced ease like the warrior she is. She reaches out and pats Dez' breastplate. “Thanks. This was great. As always.”

Dez nods, not bothering to look as she leaves, focused on holstering his own weapons and adjusting his right pauldron as she'd been yanking pretty hard on it earlier. This arrangement is one of the few uncomplicated things in his life; if either of them has the need for some physical release and the other is inclined, they will meet up somewhere discrete and get it out of their system. They have a no touchy-feely, no skin against skin, no big words kind of thing. It's practical and it works for the both of them.

Dez feels a little less tense than usual as he heads back to his quarters, ends up almost relaxed as he gets to have a long, hot shower there, but after getting dressed he puts his helmet back on and his HUD is blinking angrily with several messages waiting for him and reading those has his shoulders tensing up and his gut burn with sour aggravation right away. So much for relaxing.

The Covert is low on ammunition. Great. Davarax had been out on a supply run last week, but that didn't include weapons and ammunition as that was last month's mission. And now everyone is yelling at Dez to fix the shortage, which he can't, because 'she' won't let him. Other than the occasional mission, only Davarax gets to go above. The frustration is almost too much to handle. He feels like punching something. No. He feels like punching someone.

A less irritating notification on his HUD is his son having returned to the quarters too, and a familiar code key signature reveals Raga's presence as well. Yesterday had been Raga's seventeenth Life Day and they're probably hoping Dez will bring out the left-over snacks. Fine. Why not.

Leaving the refresher room, Dez finds Raga lounging on the bench behind the kitchen area like she owns the place. Typical. Other than now wearing her helmet, having grown taller and stronger, Raga, like most in Dez' life, hasn't changed that much either from the first time she appeared on his doorstep. However, in her case, it's not entirely a bad thing. It means she's still fearless, eager for a battle, one of the best fighters he's ever seen and she's determined to grow even stronger. All excellent qualities in a Mandalorian.

Sitting down in the chair nearby the bench, Dez is about to ask her where Paz is when he realizes that she hasn't even registered him coming over. Dez frowns. He does not like being ignored, he is a Vizla, but curiosity makes him turn his head to look in the direction her t-visor is pointing.

The door to Paz' room is open and his son is standing there, turned partially away from them, in his training pants and no shirt, his helmet moving slightly as he looks back and forth between the two shirts he's holding up. The boy is completely oblivious of how he's showing off muscles and skin to a very appreciative girl.

Dez looks back at Raga and a smirk slides across his face. About damn time. He picks up a small bumper bolt that, for some reason, is lying on the table between them and he throws it.

The bolt pings off the side of her helmet and startles Raga into snapping her visor over at him with guilt written all over her sharp question. “What?”

Leaning back in his seat, Dez outright grins. “Why haven't you told him?”

Raga hesitates, probably considers denying it or pretending she doesn't know what he's talking about, but she is clever and so decides to tell the truth instead. “No point. He has a girlfriend.”

Dez rolls his eyes. “Ech. It won't last.”

They never do. When his son told him he'd landed his first girlfriend, Dez had been certain it was Raga and was thoroughly disappointed to find it wasn't but rather some insignificant, mediocre fighter. As it was his son's life and his choice, Dez had kept quiet. There was plenty of time for Paz' brain to catch up with his body. However, Dez is losing patience with him as none of the relationship lasts longer than a couple of months and his son continuously fails to realize what treasure he has in Raga. The perfect daughter-via-marriage: she will punch anyone in the throat.

Raga shrugs, pretending indifference. “Maybe this time it will last.”

It doesn't. But by the time Paz is free, Raga isn't and she seems unfairly pleased with her current partner. Dez watches the drama from the sidelines and decides, after the many times when Raga breaks up with her latest fling and Paz has just hooked up with some new ditz or vice versa, that he's definitely doing the right thing by staying out of anything resembling romance himself. He tried it, got burned and learned his lesson. Never again. Dez Vizla is not someone who can be loved.

But while he's retired from the game, Dez isn't blind and he can tell that Paz and Raga are a perfect match. It's just frustrating that his son hasn't realized that yet. Why does everything have to be so difficult?

“Tell me life gets easier.” Raga grumbles one day as she absently adjusts her blaster after returning from her first mission; checking the authenticity of some rumours about a Beskar spear. “Yes?”

Standing next to her, seeing the blood on her armor and hearing the dark frustration in her voice, Dez tells Raga the truth, as he always does. “No.”

But neither of them have any idea of just how bad things are going to become...

A year later...

The word spreads like wildfire through the Covert and leaves a blanket of silence so heavy that barely anyone dares to speak. Paz vanishes, which is no big surprise, and Dez knows better than to go looking for his son. Dez is the last person Paz wants to see right now.

The shock means few messages and demands are sent his way and Dez ignores the ones who do appear on his HUD. It'll have to wait. Everything will have to wait.

He lingers in the Vizla quarters, taking apart every weapon he has, cleaning them and putting them back together, sharpening blades and shining up his armor, trying to make the hours go by until it's late and he knows it is time.

When Dez walks down the hallway leading to his destination, there are barely any souls outside of their quarters. Good. This is why he waited. His words are not meant for them.

Entering the cold, dark room, there is one Mandalorian from the Fighting Corps present but they leave after Dez nods towards the door. He then blindly reaches back and locks the door without taking his eyes off his reason for being there.

Davarax is lying on top of a massive concrete slab in the middle of the otherwise entirely barren room. His armor is gone, which means his sister has been there, his eyes are closed, blood is soaking his underarmor, his clothes, covering his visible skin and even seeping into the slab itself.

Dez reaches up and slowly removes his own helmet to carry it underneath his arm as he walks over to stand next to the man. It doesn't feel right to wear his helmet when Davarax doesn't have his. Not when they're about to have their final words.

Swallowing hard, Dez focuses Davarax' face and not his wounds. “I didn't believe it at first, you know. Not you. Beskar Boy never loses a fight. I thought it was some bad joke. Standing here, I still can't believe it.”

There is no reply. Not that he'd expect one, but it's still jarring. Davarax loved to talk. As a kid, Davarax never stopped talking. Dez used to love and hate that about him in equal measures. He also can't deny it is odd to see how the child face he remembers has turned into the face of a man. The chatty kid who'd briefly been his friend had turned into a handsome warrior.

“I guess I should be grateful that you kept the helmet on.” Dez says, studying Davarax' face and failing at a faint smile. “If they'd seen this, my clan would have followed you instead.”

Clearing his throat, Dez puts his helmet on the slab and opens one of the many small bags Dez has attached his belt to pull out a cloth before pulling out his water flask next. He soaks the cloth, wrings the surplus liquid from it, then he reaches over and carefully, slowly, starts to clean the blood away from Davarax' face.

“I know you think I was only fighting with her for power, for the right to lead the Covert and have us return to the surface, but that's not true.” Dez clears his throat again, hating how incredibly pale Davarax' skin is under the mess, and yet he can't stop. He can't stand seeing him like this. “I also didn't like how she put all that responsibility on you and you alone. Like with the water crisis. She just sent you right back out again to fix it. It wasn't fair. You shouldn't have had to carry all of that by yourself. No man should have to carry that kind of responsibility, and yet you did for so many years without any resentment towards her. It drove me crazy.”

After a while, Dez is forced to pause and try to rinse the cloth a little. There is just too much blood. The water turns a dark crimson color.

Death is a part of being a Mandalorian, but some are harder to accept than others. Especially when it is so undeserved and should never have happened. Davarax was the best fighter Dez has ever seen and there is no way he would have lost against an Outsider if 'she' had given him time to rest and recover between missions. Dez swallows hard, running the cloth over Davarax' forehead and brushes his hair back from his forehead as well. “You were always trying to look after everyone, keeping the Covert safe and your students happy, but... no one was looking after you. It wasn't right. I told you, didn't I? We're a Tribe. We're strong because we protect each other. You shouldn't have been alone.”

Once Davarax' face is clean, Dez moves on to his bare hands and starts wiping the blood from them as well. “Maybe... in a different life, we could have been friends again.” The idea brings a sad smile to Dez' face. “Maybe you could have taught me how to make Paz actually listen when someone is talking to him. And I could have taught you to say the occasional 'no' to requests. That would have been something, huh?”

When the blood is gone, Dez drops the cloth to the floor and he makes it so Davarax lies with his hands resting on top of his stomach instead of one lying by his side and one hanging halfway off the slab. It almost looks like he's merely sleeping now, if not for how pale his skin is and the ugly wounds that bears witness of the brutal battle that had claimed his life.

Standing there, one hand resting on top of Davarax' hands, Dez stares at his face. “I'm sorry...” He whispers. Guilt, regret, grief, they all are swirling inside his gut and his eyes start to burn. At least Davarax won't have to worry any more. No more carrying them all. He's free. “Rest now, brother. I'll see you on the other side. We'll march together again then.”

The burning grows worse, his sight goes blurry and when Dez tries to blink it away, he pretends he can't feel the tears sliding down his face. He puts his helmet back on. It's over. He's said what he's come to say. Davarax is gone and nothing can change that. He's gone. He's really gone...

Dez stalks back to the Vizla quarters and he stays there, silent and alone, his HUD set to block any messages or incoming calls, until long after the funeral pyre has been lit and eventually burned itself out. When Paz finally shows up back home, he marches directly into his room and shuts the door. Dez stares at the door for a while, but then feels his eyes start burning again so he grabs a bottle of alcohol, walks into his own room and forces himself to drink until he passes out. At least that makes the ache inside his chest stop and it numbs his stomach, if just for a little while.

Weeks later...

After they lose Davarax, which hurts so much she can barely breathe, Raga loses two of her friends too. Din storms out of the Covert and disappears with the Razor Crest, while Barthor turns into a recluse and becomes a stranger to Raga.

As for Paz, his temper grows even worse. It makes him downright mean at times, but never towards her and their friendship remains as strong as ever and Raga loves him for it. Over the years she has lost her entire family, the best teacher in the Galaxy, two of her three friends abandoned her, meaning she could not handle losing Paz too. She needs his kindness to remind her of her own.

Dez Vizla takes over their training which is both a blessing and a curse. Raga loves the grueling, exhausting, painful and merciless sessions. She puts all of her anger and frustration into her efforts and feels no small amount of satisfaction as her body grows stronger and stronger.

Eventually she's among the strongest of her peers and aims for new challenges. After Raga has defeated everyone else in one particular sport, except for Paz who refuses to play, she then locks on to the ultimate target in the Vizla quarters. “You'll do.”

Standing by the kitchen counter, resting his hip against it while tapping away at his vambrace, Dez fails to react at first, then he slowly lifts his visor to look at her. “Excuse me?”

Raga places her elbow on the table and sends him her most challenging stare through her own visor as she wiggles her fingers. “Arm wrestle. You and me. Right now.”

For a moment, Paz' father merely stares at her, then he snorts a laugh and turns his attention back to his vambrace and starts prodding away again.

“Afraid you'll lose?” Raga will not be ignored like that. She will not. (But she does ignore Paz sitting to her left, visor locked on her with disbelief radiating off his entire form.)

Dez looks up at her again, considers... then steps forward and takes her hand in his bigger one.

“Elbow on the table.” Raga points out. “No cheating.”

“Mmh. Apologies.” Dez says, bending down to touch his elbow to the table as well. “Ready?”

Raga channels all of her strength into her arm, preparing for battle. She gives a sharp nod.

“Go.” Dez says.

And the second she pushes, he slams her hand back against the table.

Yelping at the shock of it, how quickly she'd lost and the harsh impact against the hard surface, Raga then glares up at Dez Vizla as he straightens, backs up and leans against the kitchen counter to start prodding at his vambrace again. “Not good enough.” He states.

Raga grits her teeth with seething anger. “Next time. I'll get you next time.”

Dez hums, doesn't sound convinced and can't even be bothered to look up from his vambrace. “Not if you don't get a lot stronger.”

Challenge accepted!

One day she will defeat Dez Vizla. One day she will! And until then, she doesn't mind his snorts and condescending remarks; her future win will only be so much sweeter.

But what isn't sweet is how the man 'still' won't stop picking on Paz. Sure, she knows he has a squishy soft heart under all of his posturing, but Raga also knows how utterly brutal and ruthless Paz can be towards those he considers unworthy or just guilty of the crime of being an Outsider. He's a perfect Mandalorian. Dez should be proud, not be nitpicking and demanding even more.

Raga watches Paz walk away, head held low after yet another sharp comment from his father, before she glances over at old man Vizla and feels the usual mix of admiration and irritation. “You don't have to be a dick about it, you know.”

Dez exhales a disbelieving laugh and looks over at her. “What?”

“You heard me.” Raga says, keeping her visor locked on his. “It's not his fault he didn't get chosen to go outside for this mission. She decides, not him. That is The Way.”

“If he was the best, she would have chosen him. He has to do better.” Dez states in a hard voice.

“He's trying.” Raga insists, frustrated that Dez can't see all the achievements Paz has under his belt over the years, only the few he's failed to claim.

“Trying isn't good enough.” Dez continues in his merciless tone. He even leans in a little to loom. “One by one, your brothers fell in battle. Your parents too. You of all people, Raga, should know how dangerous the Galaxy is. There's no room for mistakes if you want to stay alive.”

Hating the sting of painful grief at the mentioning of her family, Raga stubbornly pushes it down into her gut and out of her mind. “Davarax said-”

“Davarax is dead.” Dez angrily cuts her off.

If not for the fact that Raga knows old man Vizla hated Davarax, she could have sworn that it sounds like his voice breaks a little over those three words? Especially as he clears his throat before continuing.

“Davarax was the best fighter I've ever seen, but because he made a mistake, he died. And I refuse to let Paz, or you, follow in his footsteps. Do better.” Dez finishes, sounding plain angry now.

Raga lowers her visor, unable to face Dez as she's haunted by her one memory of seeing Davarax' face, covered with blood and deprived of his helmet. She can only whisper her next words; “You still don't have to be a dick about it...”

“Maybe I do.” Dez says, a little less angry but still hard as metal. “I'm still alive, as you can see. The Galaxy will rip you apart if you're soft, if you're weak or make a single mistake. Din realized that. That boy will survive out there, I guarantee it. You don't have to worry about him.”

Swallowing hard, Raga crosses her arms and feels her shoulders and neck ache with tension. She can never win when trying to argue with old man Vizla. He is a jerk at times but after all the nights of worrying whether Din is even alive or not at this point, she could hug Dez for saying what he just did.

“Go.” Dez mutters. “Pat Paz' head and soothe his ego. I don't have time to sort out another mess if he decides to break someone's arm or leg because he's in a shitty mood.”

Raga clenches her jaw before gritting out an answer. “If he breaks someone's arm or leg, it'll be your fault.” Her heart is thundering. She never would have dared to say something like that if not for having to watch Paz flinch again and again over the years under his father's harsh words.

Dez huffs a laugh. It sounds bitter. “Don't you know? Everything is always my fault.” He waves her off as he's clearly done with the conversation. “Go. Now.”

Raga reluctantly accepts defeat, nods and stalks away. While she might not like how he treats his son at times, Raga can't make herself hate Dez Vizla for it. She knows the reason he hassles Paz like this is because he cares about him and his future. Pressure makes gems, ease makes decay, she's been told this countless times by every adult in the Covert while growing up. This is The Way.

However, she will check up on Paz because he is her friend, because she cares about him, not because it's an order. And lucky for Dez Vizla that she cares about him too, otherwise she would have punched him in the throat years ago.

Months later...

“Here. You have to hold her.” Lexa says, handing over the squirming bundle to Dez. It is her third child, no wonder she's sounding so pleased, and a very welcome addition to the Vizla clan. Most of them have gathered in the common room to see the new baby and of course Dez is the first to be allowed to hold the new Vizla member. He is their leader, after all.

Dez looks down at the tiny girl in his arms and his heart aches. He always wanted a daughter too. (Maybe that's why he is such a softie when it comes to Raga.) Skade never expressed any wish for more children after Paz was born, including adopting any Foundlings, so Dez settled with the blessing he had in his son rather than pining for what he would not have, but right now he feels the pain of his lost dream of a big family like a raw wound.

The baby reaches up and aimlessly grabs at air, causing Dez an intense urge to shed his glove and let her grab his finger. He wonders if he took his helmet off and smelled her hair, would she have that sweet scent Paz had as an infant?

“She will become a powerful warrior.” Dez states before turning a bit to the left and offering Gahan to hold her next. Partially because Gahan had lost his son last week and deserves the honour of being the next to welcome their new member, (Maybe holding her might ease the pain in some way or revive some lost memories from his own son's infancy?) and partially because Dez can feel his gut ache flaring up even worse than usual. This time it is not only his stomach, his back aches as well and medical warnings starts to flash on his HUD.

As Gahan accepts, Dez reluctantly hands over the warm bundle, congratulates Lexa one more time, then excuses himself. No one is surprised at his leaving, they all know how busy he is.

Dez barely makes it back to his quarters and the refresher before he has to yank his helmet off and throws up. It feels like his guts are being ripped apart and when it is finally over and Dez runs the back of a trembling hand across his mouth, he sees traces of blood. He sits on the floor for a while, tries to recover his strength, before forcing himself up on his feet to leave the room. He feels dizzy, wrung out and exhausted. He carries his helmet in his right hand as Dez does not want to put it back on only to be assaulted by more medical alerts. He doesn't care. One of two things will happen; the burning ache in his stomach will go away by itself or it will kill him, he's fine with either option.

Sitting down by the kitchen table, Dez puts his helmet on its surface and then pours himself a drink. It tastes good, a promise of numbness, but his gut burns even worse. Whatever. Dez downs the entire glass.

A couple of minutes later, the door chirps and a glance at his vambrace tells Dez it is Paz so he unlocks the door to let his son enter while he pours himself another glass.

It's only been a little over two weeks since Ra'ell across the hall died in a jetpack accident and Paz had declared he wanted to claim the place for himself and move in there. At first Dez' instinct had been to say no, he has always kept Paz close so he could protect him, but had realized that his boy was no longer a boy but a young man who wanted his freedom. Nineteen. Dez had become a father at that age and he's always felt he was ready for the task, he certainly does not regret it for a moment, but looking at Paz it makes him wonder some times if he'd become a parent when he was mostly a child himself? Paz looks so painfully young. Or maybe that's just because Dez is 37 now and feels like he's at least 80?

“Hey.” Paz says, walking over and taking a seat by the table as well.

“Hey.” Dez replies, taking a sip from his glass.

Paz hesitates before taking off his helmet. He's frowning. “Are you okay?” Another moment of hesitation. “You look tired.”

“Everything is perfect.” Dez mumbles and takes another sip. The burn in his gut and a new wave of nausea causes a brief grimace before he manages to get his face back under control. He looks over at Paz and can only think of one reason why he's here. “What do you need?”

“Nothing.” Paz mumbles back. He looks down and shrugs. “Sungodt said you left in a hurry. He thought that maybe something was wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong.” Sungodt needs to mind his own karking business. Dez refills his glass. “How is Raga?” He actually misses stumbling over her here at all hours.”Have you married her yet?”

Predictably that makes Paz' face flush. For such a big and strong boy, it doesn't take much to make Paz blush. The helmet hides how soft his heart is and that is probably a good thing.

“I've told you,” Paz replies awkwardly, “we're just friends.”

“And I've told you,” Dez fires back, “that you need to marry that girl before someone else does. She's strong, fearless and loyal, everything a Mandalorian should be. Just imagine the kids you two could have, the Foundlings you'd raise, the Galaxy would start fearing Mandalorians again.”

Now Paz' face goes from flushed to a deep red and he hunches his shoulders. “That's not going to happen, father.”

Dez rolls his eyes and drinks. His son is a clever boy, except for when he's a complete idiot.

“So, everything is okay?” Paz asks, embarrassed by his father's words in regards to Raga and eager to change the subject.

Nodding, Dez swallows down the mouthful of alcohol with some difficulty. A headache is starting to make its presence known. “Yeah. Perfect. Go away.”

Paz flinches, he tries to hide it but fails, and there is hurt in his eyes as he nods and gets up. “Understood.”

It's the right thing to do; toughen the boy up further and prevent Paz from worrying about his father instead of focusing on living his own life, Dez knows this, and yet... When his son turns away, meaning to put his helmet on and leave, Dez hears his own voice calling out and finds himself standing up. “Paz, wait.”

Turning back, Paz looks irrationally hopeful. “Yes?”

Weirdly lost for words, Dez feels his resolve trembling and cracking. He is struck with a hysterical urge to suggest the unthinkable; -Let's leave the Covert. I hate this life. I fucking hate it. We should live like proper Mandalorians. I'll teach you the real Way. Let's bring Raga and just go.

The Galaxy is a dangerous place, definitely, but if cretins like Bo-Katan Kryze and her ilk can survive out there, surely they can as well? Dez would keep Paz and Raga safe. He could...

Dez' lips tremble as the words nearly slip out, but they soon tighten into a thin line as he forces the urge away. He can't. Looking at Paz, tall, proud and strong, Dez realizes he can't do that to him. Paz is a Vizla. He has prepared himself to be the leader of their clan for most of his life, this is his home, this Way is the only Way he knows, and Dez doesn't have the right to take all that from him after he dragged Paz into this by choosing not to follow Pre. No, they have come too far to turn back.

Clearing his throat, Dez wills his voice into working again. “The Quarter Battle is coming up. I expect you to be ready and make our clan proud by winning.”

Disappointment replaces the hurt in his eyes and Paz gives a faint nod. “Of course.” He half-whispers, then turns away, puts his helmet on and leaves.

Dez puts his helmet on as well. His headache is reaching levels of pure agony now and his stomach feels like a burning inferno. He reluctantly brings up the medical scanner on his HUD and activates it.

He might be fine with exhaling his last, it would almost be a relief on some days, but his son still needs him and so Dez can't die. Not yet. Dez has to make sure the clan is worthy of his son taking over. He has to make Paz realize he needs to marry Raga as soon as possible. And Dez somehow, despite years of failing to do so, has to make their leader see that they have to stop hiding underground and that they need to reclaim their place in the Galaxy as proper warriors.

Dez feels like old armour, worn thin and brittle and on the verge of shattering into pieces, but he will continue acting like the man people thinks he is. Time will tell how long he can keep pretending, but he will go on. For Paz. For Raga. For their future.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #Paz Vizsla #Raga Saxon #Dez Vizsla #the one-shots start coming and they don't stop coming

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 2 years

Text

This is the Way

(Okay, so this one goes out to @veryapricoteggflower for the incredibly kind and encouraging words that gave me the oompf needed to post this longass piece I wrote a while back, and to @phrenic-a for the eternal patience and empathy shown when I complain about the characters making things difficult for me xD And, yeah, Dez is about to face more challenges, some more unexpected than others!)

Usually Dez prefers to train his markmanship alone, or in the company of Paz and Raga, but Davarax' threat of friendship is still something that idiot is working on and so Dez occasionally gets dragged along to do blaster target practice. Today is such a day. But Dez' crankiness turns into something boyishly giddy when, for the first time ever, Neleem shows up to watch.

She is a bit quiet and seems slightly distracted by whatever is on her mind, but she orders Dez to finish his target practice and he goes about doing just that. He's suddenly far more motivated to hit his target than usual and is beyond pleased when he does better than usual as a result.

When they have fired their last rounds, Dez twirls and whirls the blaster in his hand, showing off his best moves for Neleem's eyes while Davarax walks over to inspect their hits. Beskar Boy might be the better shot, but Dez knows he looks better, way better, while shooting, and no harm in Neleem seeing that, right? He might not have many other redeeming qualities, other than being a Vizla, but at least she married a man who looks damn good in battle.

“Do you want to try having a baby?” Neleem asks.

Dez fumbles and nearly drops the gun, reflexes making him squeeze it, and he fires off a shot that goes by dangerously close to Davarax' head.

Davarax spins around in startled anger. “That's not funny! You nearly hit me, you idiot!”

“It was an accident.” Dez shouts back at him, as flustered and startled as Davarax himself.

“Accident?” Davarax yells, angry and anything but convinced. “You just 'accidentally' nearly shot me in the head? Are you serious?!”

“Yes!” Dez is getting angry too now. Just because Beskar Boy never makes mistake, that doesn't give him the right to bite down on Dez' ass for making one. “But keep pushing me and the next one won't be an accident and it won't miss your head!”

Davarax sputters something, but Neleem places a light hand on Dez' arm and he forgets all about Beskar Boy and can't think about anything but her shocking words. “Neleem, what...?”

“I'm sorry. I shouldn't have...” Neleem looks as embarrassed as he feels. “My timing was...”

Dez shakes his head, tries to shake off the shock and his brain into working again. “Fine. It's fine. Don't worry about it. That moron deserves a little shaking up every once in a while.” He clears his throat. “I'm just slightly worried I had a stroke and misheard what you said.”

“I asked,” Neleem mumbles awkwardly, looking down at where her hand is resting on his arm, “if you wanted to try having a baby?”

Dez stares at her. So he didn't hallucinate. Is she hallucinating? “You're asking... me?” There has to be something he's misunderstanding here. She can't be asking him that. “Me?” He repeats, hoping to make her realize who she is talking to.

Neleem nods before she dares to sneak a peek up at his face. Her cheeks are flushed.

Dez struggles to find the ability to formulate sentences again. He can't even muster up any anger to respond to Davarax' snarling as he stalks by them. “Neleem, I...”

“If you don't want to, that's okay!” Neleem reassures him in a hurry as she places both hands on his chest. “It's just a question. Not an ultimatum. Not a demand. Just a question, Dez.”

It doesn't make sense. Why would she even ask? Dez notices his mouth feels horribly dry. “You never mentioned wanting... before...”

“I know.” Neleem sighs, leaning forward and resting her cheek against his chest, probably hearing the erratic beating of his heart as he hadn't armored up for mere training. His punishment for being lazy. “It wasn't something I even considered. I've always looked after other people's children and that was enough. I never felt the time was right, I never had a decent life to offer a child, and... there was never the right partner.”

Dez feels something cold traveling up his spine. Right partner? For having children? How can she say that and mean him? “Neleem. I'm a shitty father. We both know that.”

“Were.” Neleem states, wrapping her arms around his waist. “You 'were' a shitty father. You're not that man anymore. Just ask Paz. Or Liita. You didn't hesitate to adopt her, did you?”

Dez exhales. “No, because she's even meaner than I am and she'll kick my ass if she feels like it.”

Neleem lets out a soft laugh, knowing the truth of his words, but she looks up at him again and now with the softest expression in her eyes. “That girl worships you. Just like your son and his girlfriend. You're not as unlovable as you like to think, Dez Vizla. I should know because I love you too.”

Clenching his jaw, not trusting his voice right now, Dez basically scowls at her because there are far too many soft, hopeful and yearning emotions whirling away inside him at the moment.

Pulling back a little, lifting a hand and patting his chest, Neleem smiles with a painful mix of sadness and affection. “What if you think about it? No rush. No pressure. If it feels wrong for you, we won't. I promise you I can live with whatever you decide and I won't love you any less for it. It's just a question, an option, a possible possibility, okay? Our family is perfect the way it is, so, please, don't feel I need this. I'd like it, but I don't need it. You hear me?”

Dez nods. He feels numb. And he merely watches as Neleem flees.

How could she want a baby with him? Him! He has proven himself to be entirely unsuitable to the task, a complete failure to his son, and so the broken whispers of his old wish for a big family doesn't matter. He crushed that dream into a deep grave and buried it alive a long time ago.

There is no point in thinking about it. So he won't. He's a Vizla; if he decides not to do something, he won't do it.

Easy peasy.

Watching Paz and Raga train is always a treat, they are skilled for their age, but it turns a bit entertaining when they somehow manage to drag Liita into a session. Dez is sitting on the fence surrounding the sand-covered area they had created for soft landings when Paz wanders over to take a sip of his water bottle next to his father while Raga shows Liita some stances with only a mild amount of bullying involved. (Standing as far from everyone else as possible, Din and Corin are pretending to be there for training but are basically just ogling and pawing each other.)

“Raga should be careful.” Paz declares with glee, taking a deep gulp of water before looking back at the girl in question. “Liita will go after her kneecaps and show no mercy.”

“Yeah.” Usually this would amuse Dez to no end, but now he can't even get himself to smile properly. He feels... off. Weird. Unsettled.

Raga cackles and Liita snarls.

“It's weird to get a sibling when you're basically an adult, right?” Dez mumbles, glancing over at his son.

Paz shrugs, not taking his eyes off the girls. “Not really. It worked out for both of us. I mean, Liita never had siblings either and I always wanted a sister or a brother.”

Dez remembers. When Paz was just a kid, he'd asked his father for a sibling as a Life Day present three years in a row. “But it would be weird getting one now if it was, you know, a baby, right?”

Spinning around to face Dez, Paz blurts out, far too loudly; “Is Neleem pregnant?”

Dez flinches and gestures frantically for him to lower his voice. “No! No, she's not pregnant.” He glances over at Raga and Liita, feels his face grow hot as they are staring at them, then turns his focus back to his son again. It's unsettling how delighted Paz had sounded and how there is actual disappointment in his eyes upon hearing there is no new incoming sibling. “I was just making conversation. Okay?”

Paz does not look convinced.

Clearing his throat, Dez wishes he never had said anything. “She's not pregnant, I promise.” He shifts his weight a little uneasily and feels his upper lip tug at a snarl. “Stop staring at me.” He wishes he had put on his helmet before talking to his son.

Paz sighs, takes another swallow from his water before putting the bottle back where he'd gotten it from and turns to walk back to the two girls. “Nemi's karking cute and Corin hogs her all the time. Would've been nice to have my own baby sibling to show off, you know?”

Scowling, Dez watches as Paz joins up with Raga again and only realizes Liita has now taken up position next to him when she speaks.

“Pregnant, huh?” Liita mutters.

“She's not...” Dez starts off a little too angrily and has to calm his temper before he can look over at the girl next to him and finish his sentence in a calmer voice. “...pregnant. Okay?”

“Okay.” Liita replies and the two watch Paz and Raga spar for a little while. Eventually Liita speaks up again. “This having children thing, it's a big deal to Mandalorians.” “It is.” Dez confirms, now hating himself for having opened his big mouth at all.

“What if I don't want kids...?” Liita asks.

Dez shrugs. “You're just a kid yourself right now. You got plenty of time. Wait until the right guy comes along and you might change your mind.”

Liita nods, goes quiet for moment or two, then she draws a sharp breath and looks over at him. “But what if I get older and I still don't want kids? What if I never want kids?”

Her voice is low and defiant, but also somehow a little shaky. Is she worried that might make Dez regret adopting her? He absently places his arm around her and squeezes her obnoxiously tight. “Then you'll still be Liita. You'll still be my daughter. You'll still be a mechanical genius, a foul mouthed beast and a gift to any Mandalorian tribe. And that will never change. Understood?”

Liita almost smiles and has to fight hard to hide it. “Understood.” She wiggles herself free from him and is about to walk back to Paz and Raga when she glances back at Dez. “You know, you're turning into a pretty good dad, old man. I'm glad I adopted you.”

Grinning, Dez lifts his hand and gives her a rude gesture, which has her grin and return the gesture before heading over to Paz and Raga again.

Lowering his hand, Dez watches the kids train and tells himself to ignore how Liita and Paz' words start to mix with the echo of Neleem's question inside his head.

Dez does firmly not think about it at all for the next two days and pretends the tension and restlessness is just because Sobek and the others are driving him crazy with their nagging.

“I never should have said anything.” Neleem whispers a late night. “It wasn't the right time.”

“You should always tell me when you want something.” Dez declares, faking confidence. Doing things for another soul, getting them what they want, that's how you show you care, right? Borr taught him that. When Dez was a kid, his initial instinct to show he cared was always to reach out, to hug or simply touch an arm, desperately craved physical contact from others to know they cared about him as well, but his father was quick to inform him how that was a display of weakness and that affection could only be proven through usefulness. And Vizlas aren't weak. Ever.

(While he never managed to rid himself of the bad habit of hugging all together, and couldn't get himself to teach Paz that hugging was wrong, Dez did get better at being strong over the years.)

One way to burn off the frustrating restlessness gnawing inside him is working out. Dez enters the shed they had set up for lifting weights and has a moment of fierce irritation when he finds Beskar Boy there, in the middle of his own work out session. Lying on the bench, lifting and lowering the bar with enough weight to compete with Dez' own sets, Davarax still has the energy to greet him. “Hey, buddy. I'm almost done.”

Dez doesn't dignify him with an answer, merely turns away and leans against the door frame to look out at the town nearby. If he watches Davarax, odds are that he won't be able to resist pointing out mistakes and bad form and it will snow on Tatooine before Dez willingly helps Davarax get even better at something.

Staring at nothing, Dez waits in silence and isn't quite aware of what he's doing until there is a sting of pain and the taste of blood in his mouth. Only then does he realize he's gnawing at the side of the nail on his left thumb. (Nail biting. Another occasional bad habit he's never been able to shake.) There is a burst of more irritation inside him and Dez yanks his hand down to his side while he resents himself for showing such obvious signs of weakness.

He has to make it stop. Telling himself not to think about it is clearly not working. Dez is about to storm off to find some other way to vent, maybe Furyan is free to do some fighting, when the painfully obvious solution presents itself to him. If there is one person in the entire Galaxy that will tell Dez, out loud and to his face, without mercy, how bad of an idea Neleem's question is; Beskar Boy won't hesitate.

Dez clears his throat, crosses his arms and locks his gaze on the roof of one of the buildings in town. “Neleem asked if I wanted to try having a kid.”

Expecting an outburst of shock and horror, Dez is a little surprised to hear absolutely nothing from the man behind him. Nothing. Not a single word leaves Davarax' lips. Seconds go by, still nothing.

Dez clenches his jaw as more irritation burns inside him. Beskar Boy can't even do this for him.

A faint gargling sound catches Dez' attention and he automatically glances back over his shoulder, only to start and rush over as he sees Davarax choking due to the iron bar pressing down on his throat and his trembling arms being unable to lift it.

The second Dez grabs a hold of the bar and lifts it up, Davarax rolls off the bench and stumbles away, coughing and heaving for air. He rubs his throat when he is forced to a halt as he has backed up against the wall.

Puzzled, Dez just stands there like an idiot while the other idiot regains his breath and brain capacity.

“What is it with actively trying to kill me these days?!” Davarax snaps the second he's able to.

Hot fury spreads through his veins and Dez drops the bar for it to hit the floor with a thundering sound. “It's not my fault you put on more weight than you can lift!”

“I was able to lift it just fine before you came along and distracted me!” Davarax declares.

Dez snarls with burning indignation and stalks towards Beskar Boy until he's up in his face. “I'm not allowed to speak around you all of a sudden?”

Davarax takes a couple of deep breaths, shuts his eyes tight before opening them again and the anger seems to drain from his body. “I didn't mean...” He meets Dez' gaze and sighs. “I just freaked out. I couldn't breathe and... I overacted. I'm sorry.”

Dez blinks. He's... sorry? The man is apologizing? What the hell is Dez supposed to..? What is... No. Anger flares up inside him, vicious anger, and Dez throws a punch.

Unnaturally quick reflexes makes it so Davarax manages to dodge the worst of it, the fist merely grazes his cheekbone before slamming into the wall behind him, and he spins around to shove Dez face first into the very same wall. There he holds him, an arm across the back of Dez' neck, and shouts: “Will you stop trying to hit me all the time, you idiot?!”

“Then stop pissing me off!” Dez shouts back, squirming angrily.

“Then I'll have to really stop breathing as that seems to be enough to piss you off!” Davarax counters.

Ramming his elbow back into Beskar Boy, forcing him to let to and back away with a harsh breath, Dez is the one to spin around now, with every intention to beat the snot out of the other man when... Davarax' palm connects with Dez' cheek and snaps his face to the side with a loud, stinging slap.

Stunned, too shocked for anger, Dez slowly reaches up and touches the burning skin before he just as slowly turns his face back to stare at Davarax with utter disbelief.

Davarax, who is pointing a stern finger right into Dez' face. “Stop. Trying. To hit me. Okay?”

“You...” Dez stutters, struggling to believe what had just happened. “You slapped me.”

Davarax crosses his arms defensively. “Yeah. I did.”

“You slapped me. Like some Alderaan politican.” Dez rambles on, hand still on his cheek.

“It worked. Made you stop, didn't it?” This is when Davarax fails to keep a straight face and he snorts a laugh, as if he too is struggling to believe he'd just done that.

Dez hears himself snorting a laugh as well. He can't help it. It's too surreal.

Visibly relieved, Davarax reaches out and places a cautious but friendly hand on Dez' shoulder. “Are we done fighting? Can we talk now?”

Suddenly strangely reluctant to talk after his words had startled Davarax so badly he nearly suffocated himself, Dez rubs his cheek and moves to leave the damn shed. He finds he doesn't want to hear the painful truth after all. Not right now, at least. “I'm done talking.” The amiable hand on his shoulder tightens its grip and he barely gets to take one step forward before Dez is forced to a halt and he sighs. Great. He braces himself and looks over at Davarax, wanting it over with.

“You said she wanted to try. What about you? What do you want?.” Davarax says a little awkwardly.

Dez shrugs his free shoulder, trying for a neutral face but suspects he looks sullen. “What I want doesn't matter. I've already shown that I can't raise a kid.” The truth hurts. It burns. Especially in front of Beskar Boy. However, Dez is no coward and will face the pain.

Davarax looks disgustingly sympathetic. “Things are different now, Dez. You're different. And this time, you won't be raising them alone. You have a wife, family and friends to help you.”

Frowning, not liking the way agonized hope starts clawing inside his chest, Dez pretends to stare out the open door. “Having a wife, family and friends didn't prevent me from making Paz' life a misery.”

“Give me your hands.” Davarax says.

“What?” Dez looks over at him, confused.

Beskar Boy holds out his hands for Dez to place his in them. “Give me your hands.” “No.” Dez replies, pauses, then adds; “Why?”

“Because what I'm going to tell you is going to make you try to hit me again.”

Scowling, Dez does not like the sound of that. “Then don't say it.”

Davarax merely wiggles his fingers.

“No.” Dez growls and means to stalk away, but the damn man is too fast and steps in front of him again.

“Okay. Fine.” Davarax says in a rush. “No hands. Just... try not to hit me, or I'll have to slap you again.” Dez frowns, not keen on experiencing that again. It's too weird. “Fine.”

Nodding, Davarax doesn't look entirely convinced, but he does speak. “The family you had left at that time didn't care, not like Paz does. You had followers, but not real friends. And Skade-”

Dez exhales a sharp breath, physically twitching at the sound of that name, and angry heat flares up his neck. “You're right” No one says that name around him. “I want to punch you now.” He clenches his right hand into a tight fist and only manages to hold back due to pure willpower.

Davarax avoids his gaze and folds in on himself a bit to probably appear less physically intimidating and completely non-confrontational. “I'm just saying things are different now, Dez. If she wants to try for a kid and you want the same, I think you should at least talk to her. Tell her what's worrying you.” Beskar Boy huffs a faint laugh. “Fine, yeah, roll your eyes, Dez.” Did he? Yeah, probably. “But talking is what brought your son back to you. Use your words, man.” He has the audacity to give Dez' shoulder a playful slap. “Nemi would love for there to be another kid around, someone closer to her age.”

Dez is too stunned to punch him.

When dusk has crawled over the planet and people are settling down for the night, Dez is sitting on the bed, staring at the floor, when Neleem enters and walks over to him.

“Hey, are you okay?” She sounds worried.

“Sit.” Dez says, patting the mattress next to him.

Usually orders makes Neleem instantly rebellious, but there is no arrogance in his voice and the last couple of days' stifling atmosphere makes her merely sit down and she looks at him in silence as if bracing for whatever he's about to say.

Dez hesitates, has to dig deep to find the courage, then looks over at her worried face. “I've been thinking about what you said. And, I don't want to ruin another kid's life.”

Frowning, Neleem shakes her head a little. “What makes you think you would?”

“Because I'm me.” Dez says with a touch of bitter amusement. “You know what I'm like.”

Neleem reaches over and places her hand over his, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Do you want another child, Dez?”

“That doesn't matter.”

“Of course it matters.” Neleem squeezes his hand again. “And it is the first thing we need to sort out, before we talk about your worries.”

Talk. Of course. Dez should resent it, but... he finds himself willing to try. Beskar Boy was right; talking had built a tentative bridge between Dez and Paz, so maybe it could work here as well? “What I want and what is right might not be the same thing, Neleem.”

“Do you? Yes or no.”

Feeling the pressure of her question, wanting to be honest but worried what it might lead to, Dez stalls for a moment before managing a faint nod. He had sworn never to lie to her.

“Okay, good, then we can move on to the next question.” Neleem says, tugging his hand slightly to make him look over at her again. “But if you need a break or I ask something you don't want to talk about, you say 'that is enough' and we'll stop. Do you understand?”

To Dez' endless relief, she doesn't look angry, impatient or, worst of all, resentful. He feels a tiny release in his tense muscles. He even manages to fake a little nonchalance. “Ask your question, Neleem.”

“Do you understand?” Neleem repeats, clearly not moving on until he confirms so he nods. She eyes him for a moment, scanning him, then does indeed ask her question. And it is followed by others. And slowly, Neleem tugs at one string after another until she unravels a terrifying amount of Dez' fears and concerns about bringing an infant into their lives, all while gently countering them with her views and some facts he cannot deny.

After nearly two hours of feeling like he's balancing on top of the sharp edge of a blade, Dez finally buckles and, to his humiliation, has to use the words Neleem had given him.

“That's enough.” Dez reluctantly mutters. He's exhausted, like he's done battle for two hours instead of just talking, and can feel the urge to reach for anger to shield himself from more questions.

“Yeah...” Neleem replies, and to his surprise; she looks pleased with him. “Yeah, I think that's enough for tonight.” She reaches out and gently cups the side of his face. “Thank you. For this.”

“For being weak?” Dez whispers with weary bitterness.

“For being strong.” Neleem corrects him. Her eyes are stern but not cruel. She means it. Which is even weirder. “Throwing a punch is easy. I know this is very difficult for you.” She caresses his face. “But I promise; it will be worth it.”

Dez nods. It goes against everything he's been taught in the past, but he chooses to believe her.

He had told her how bad of an idea it would be for him to sire a child thinking it would result in a quick and painful resolution, but Dez discovers that he couldn't have been more wrong. Instead it results in three days of more uncomfortable talking, startling realizations and, something Dez has never agreed to in the past, compromises.

“Any child of mine will be raised as a Mandalorian.” He informs her on the second evening.

“I have no problem with that.” Neleem replies. “I've learned the value of being able to fight and defend yourself, and Mandalorian culture is something I agree with. But no child of mine will be trained with harsh words and impossible demands.”

Dez knows he should quote the old sayings, gems and decay and all that, but Davarax trained Din and the others with strict kindness and those kids are still alive alongside Paz, and they never hated their teacher, so... “Agreed.” Borr can kiss his ass from the afterworld.

And there are even some fears eased when he tells her about them.

“You're not bad with children, Dez. Last week, when Nemi climbed up on the table and got a hold of your helmet after you'd placed it there and then poured her glass of juice into it, you didn't get angry. You didn't even raise your voice.”

Dez scoffs, a little offended. “Of course not. She's just a little one.” He's a shitty person, not a monster.

Neleem takes his hand and lifts it to her lips, kissing it, before looking at him with a stunning amount of affection in her dark eyes. “No one showed you kindness or patience as a child, yet you know to apply both to toddler antics. Don't you see how wonderful that is?”

He doesn't. But the way she looks at him when she's saying this? It gives him even more hope.

And slowly; after the uncomfortable conversations, after going from resenting the words she'd given him to stop the talking to feeling less reluctant to enter into the conversations because of them, (Especially as Neleem doesn't resent him for using said words.) the idea of a child becomes increasingly less scary and more like the wonderful creation his younger self had considered them.

There will be a cost, he knows that, but... The happiest time in his life had been the years after Paz was born. And seeing his son just about grown up, the person he's become despite having such a bad father, Dez has never been more proud. To have and to share that with Neleem... Isn't that worth the heartache guaranteed to follow? He's not a coward, dank farrik.

“Let's go for it.” Dez says on the fourth night as they are drifting off to sleep.

Neleem lifts her head and squints sleepily at him through the darkness. “Are you saying what I think you're saying?”

“Yeah.” Dez replies, glancing over at her and smiling a bit at her sleepy expression. He's strangely at peace with his decision. Worried? Yes. Dreading what the cost will be? Definitely. Yet, Neleem's calm and her belief in him, it makes him want it anyway.

Frowning, Neleem reaches up and touches his face. “We don't have to, remember? We're just talking about it.”

“I know.” Dez reassures her.

Neleem hums with a faint smile, curls back down under the covers and lets sleep claim her.

The next day, she spends the entire morning and part of the day to grill Dez on his decision, prodding and prying and making sure he's not simply indulging her. She seems wary but hopeful and when Dez doesn't change his mind or waver in his decision at all; Neleem is finally convinced.

Two days later, after a long day of hassling Beskar Boy, Dez is getting comfortable in bed when Neleem walks in and pauses by the bed to just stand there. Instantly alert, worried there is bad news, Dez frowns. “What's wrong?”

“I had the chip turned off.” Neleem tells him, her keen eyes scanning his face for his reaction.

The words do land heavy in Dez' gut, but they also bring a nervous excitement. “Well then,” Dez says, reaching out a hand, “no time to waste.”

Laughing, Neleem takes his hand and lets him gently pull her down next to him. She is trying hard to act calm and collected, but her eyes give her away as they shine with the exact same nervous excitement. “You know, me being a togruta and you being a human, it might not work at all. It doesn't always.”

Dez moves closer and takes a light hold of her chin as he fails to hold back a faint smile. “You and me, working on something together? Cyare, we'll get it right on the very first try.”

Now Neleem outright giggles, definitely nervous but not in a bad way. She tugs him along as she rolls over on her back and gives him an outright coy smile. “Big words, tough guy.”

“You'll see I'm right.” Dez murmurs, then leans down for a beginning kiss.

After a fun and delightfully vigorous night, Dez fails to react at all when there is a harsh knock on the door far too early next morning. He's deep into sleep, his face deep into the pillow, when the knocking comes again and once again it doesn't even register with him.

It's on the third round of knocking, accompanied with an irritated shout of; “Dez! Wake your ass up!” from outside the room, when Neleem reaches over and blindly slaps the back of her hand against Dez' shoulder blade and forces him to react.

Grunting annoyed, Dez pushes himself up, squints a glare of hatred at the door before getting out of bed. He yanks on a pair of pants and stomps over to maim whomever is making all of this noise.

It makes absolutely PERFECT sense that the sinner turns out to be Beskar Boy himself.

Bracing one arm against the side of the door frame, Dez scowls at Davarax. “This had better be important. I am one wrong word from punching your face.”

“Get dressed.” Davarax says, all stern business and with no sign of this being a joke. “I need your help. We got to go.”

Dez is suddenly awake, but Neleem is the one who speaks first.

“What's going on?” She asks, sitting up in bed with the covers wrapped around herself, and looking more than a little worried.

Davarax radiates tension and... anger? He hesitates before looking over at her. “Some mercs ambushed Zev and Mose. She's hurt bad, Dulcy is patching her up, but she made it back here to get help. They shot Mose up with something, something that knocked him out, and they took him away, talking about how they were finally rich.”

Dez simply moves over to get fully dressed and armoured up. Time to go and kill some mercs.

Neleem gives a faint shake of her head in utter disbelief and horror. “How can I help?”

“Stop the kids from going after us.” Davarax replies. “They'll want to come along when they find out, and me and Dez need to focus on tracking the mercs down and getting Mose back.”

“You and Dez?” Neleem looks from one to the other. “Just the two of you? Aren't you bringing the others?”

Davarax looks down at the floor and he sighs.

“They won't help.” Dez says in a flat voice, attaching his breastplate and making sure it is secure before picking up his left pauldron to attach that as well. “Mose is not a Mandalorian. He's not officially family. I'm not sure if any of them have even spoken to him. They won't see this as their business.”

“Then order them.” Neleem snaps, getting an even tighter grip on the sheets before shuffling across the mattress on her knees to sit kneeling at the very edge and as close as she can get to Dez. “You're their leader, right? You can order them to help.”

Dez attaches the second pauldron. “I could.” He connects his flame thrower and grabs his helmet and his jetpack. “But I wouldn't be leader for long if I did.” Pausing next to Davarax, Dez looks back at Neleem with calm confidence. “Don't worry. Me and this idiot got this.” Some mercs? Dez has taken on worse opponents by himself and barely broken a sweat. With Beskar Boy as a distraction, this will be easy peasy.

Neleem is not happy, but she manages to nod with reluctant acceptance. “Be careful. Get him back. And hurry home.”

Dez and Davarax nod in unison before they walk out of the room and set course for the Razor Crest. “Stocked up?” Dez asks, meaning weapons and ammunition.

“Always.” Davarax replies. “We're good.” Of course. As if Beskar Boy would be lacking in any department. But for today, Dez will forgive him for his disgusting perfection because it makes their mission easier. Davarax is right; if the kids wake up and find out what has happened to Mose, they'll want to come along and will end up slowing them down instead. Better hurry.

They make it to the ship, barely visible in the semi-darkness of the very crack of dawn, but Dez exhales with annoyed frustration when it becomes clear that two shapes are waiting for them in front of the ship's ramp.

Dulsissia has her arms crossed and a tense frown on her face, but her gaze is resting on the soul next to her rather than the two Mandalorians approaching, because next to her is Zev'sonya.

Dez notes that the girl has what looks like a broken arm bandaged up in a sling, several cuts on her face and a worryingly stubborn expression on her angry face.

“I'm coming with you.” Zev'sonya states.

“Zev...” Davarax sighs, shaking his head. “You-”

“I'm coming with you.” Zev'sonya cuts him off, her voice and her eyes as hard as Beskar.

“I tried to stop her.” Dulsissia says, sounding as unhappy as she looks.

“You come along, you do as you're told. Understood?” Dez says. He doesn't have time for this. “If you don't obey orders, I will knock you out and stuff you in the weapons storage.”

Zev'sonya looks even less pleased, but she nods.

“Excellent.” Dez stalks inside the ship. “Let's go.”

The girl keeps quiet for most of the time, she stares out at the stars with a harsh glare in her eyes, but after about two standard days of hunting around for information about those honourless mercs and their location; Zev'sonya finally snaps.

“This is taking too long!” Zev'sonya shouts when Dez and Davarax enter the Razor Crest after another visit to a planet that results in nothing but vague rumours regarding the mercs' lair. “I thought you guys were supposed to be good at this. We have to find them before they kill Mose!”

Pausing next to her in the cargo area, Davarax sighs as he takes off his helmet, about to answer, when Dez walks by them and tells her the truth instead: “They won't kill him. Mose is worth far more to them alive. They are going to keep that big heart of his beating so he can earn them more credits. They are probably planning on draining him for years.” He ignores the stink-eye Beskar Boy sends his way and simply climbs up to the cockpit to start up the ship's engines.

“Listen.” Davarax' voice drifts up from below. “He should have said that a little... differently, but Dez is right about one thing: they won't kill Mose. They won't. He's too valuable.”

“It's my fault...” Zev'sonya whispers.

“It's not your fault. It was a fight you couldn't win.” Davarax offers her. And, knowing him, he probably hugs her. “We will find him and we will get him back. Okay? I promise.”

Dez rolls his eyes. Beskar Boy saving the day again. Dez plots in new coordinates and sets the ship into motion. Let them talk, he'll work on finding the big boy.

It takes another day to finally gets some solid information, but of course Davarax finds the one person in the Galaxy who knows where the two mercs are hiding and gets the truth out of the unfortunate soul. (Dez had almost forgotten how scary Davarax can get when he's truly angry.) And after that, it takes two standard days to get to the space station where their prey is supposed to be hiding.

“You stay here.” Davarax says to Zev'sonya as she stands and watches him and Dez load up on weapons after landing the Razor Crest on the station. Their excuse about needing to land for repairs, offering to pay a lot of credits to be allowed to use their dock, means they won't have long before someone comes snooping around and the fighting begins.

“But I-” The girl starts objecting.

“We had a deal.” Dez tightens the strap on the holster attached to his thigh with one sharp tug before stalking over to grab a rifle from Davarax' collection on the wall. “You do as your told. Or am I knocking you out?” He does not have the time or the patience for this.

“Zev, listen,” Davarax says, eternally patient, “I need you to stay here. Me and Dez will go get Mose, but that means leaving the Crest and someone has to protect her; without her, we won't be going anywhere after we get him back. Understand?”

Clenching her jaw, Zev'sonya nods.

Davarax hands her a blaster. “Good.” He gives her upper arm a light squeeze, offers her a faint smile, before he walks over to grab a rifle of his own and puts his helmet on. “Dez. Let's go.”

“Waiting on you, Saint Bleeding Heart.” Dez declares, standing by the ramp and feeling more than a little impatient to get going. “Just waiting on you.”

They almost make it to the door leading into the station. Almost. But one sharp-eyed idiot sees them and raises the alarm. That's how the fighting begins.

The opponents are all mediocre mercs and honourless pirates who fight dirty like the cowards they are, which makes it extra fun for Dez to charge at them like a furious bantha to shatter bones as well as spill blood as he ends their lives. Meanwhile, Davarax is all business, sharp and efficient, picking his targets off with one well placed shot after another. Together they fight their way through the armed riffraff and the narrow hallways until they stand facing a metal door the mercs had clumped together to protect. If that isn't an obvious sign that this is where they're keeping Mose, nothing is.

“You okay?” Davarax asks as they are the only ones left standing outside the door.

Dez grunts annoyed as he checks his bleeding arm. A nikto had gotten in a lucky shot and the blast had grazed his arm. Why does a graze hurt more than the three shots Sungodt had placed in his chest? “I'm fine. Just a graze.” Dank farrik. He feels like killing the nikto again. Why did he have to land that shot? Why? Davarax doesn't have a scratch on him. If he wasn't wearing his helmet, Dez is willing to bet that his stupidly perfect hair wouldn't have one strand out of place.

“Good. Let's grab Mose and get out of here.” Davarax says, prodding his vambrace to start slicing the code lock to the door and within seconds it slides open.

Davarax steps into the grey and brightly lit room first.

Inside, there are a handful of mercenaries, including the two who Zev'sonya had descibed to perfection as the ones behind the ambush, and behind them all is Mose's big shape. He looks unconscious, eyes closed and head sagging. His body is trapped against the southern wall where it is held up by several broad metal restraints. There are two long, winding tubes going into each arm, plus tubes sticking into his neck on both sides, all of them dark with blood being drawn out of him and transported into some large see-through containers lined up on a table next to him.

“You are going to regret this.” Davarax growls, voice tight with anger.

“This is our Hutt!” One of the mercs declares. He's the only human among the cretins; visibly scared but too greedy to run. He had been one of the two responsible for the ambush.“Besides, why would a Mandalorian care what we do with a Hutt?!”

“Mandalorian culture is all about protecting our children.” Davarax says, aiming his blaster at the idiot who had opened his mouth and is unfazed by how everyone else aim their weapon at him in return. “And that Hutt is one of my kids.”

Amidst the snickers of disbelief, the other merc Zev'sonya had described takes a step forward and places the muzzle of his blaster inches from Davarax' visor. “There's six of us and you're alone. Bad odds, Mando.”

“He's not alone.” Dez counters, entering as well with one blaster in each hand, aiming at the enemy. Usually he is a firm believer in keeping emotions and getting a job done separate, things tend to get messy if you don't, but in this particular case; he'll make an exception. He can see signs of how there had been a struggle in that room and how one of Mose's eyes is swollen shut. “You kidnapped my nephew, you morons. Stupid. Real stupid.”

The tallest of the mercs draws a breath to say something else but never gets to actually speak as Dez fires and the shot bursts through him. At the same time, Davarax turns his head to let the Beskar helmet deflect the shot fired at it while he takes down another merc with his blaster.

This fight is a bit more difficult, simply because the room is so small that it doesn't give them much room to maneuver combined with the risk of accidentally hitting Mose, but one by one the enemies fall and Dez feels a flicker of delight when Davarax ignores the wailing complaints of the merc leader who had aimed his blaster at him and simply ends his life with cold efficiency.

No one hurts their family and gets away with it.

Dez walks by him, smacking a hand at Davarax' pauldron to snap him out of his killing frenzy, and the two make their way over to Mose.

“Hey, Mose, you awake?” Davarax asks, examining the metal restraints to see how to open them.

There is a faint groan from Mose, but he doesn't open his eyes.

Dez kneels down and starts working on the metal restraint pinning down Mose's tail. “He's not going to be able to shuffle, slither, whatever. How are we going to get him back to the ship?”

“I don't know...” Davarax admits, ramming the tip of a vibroblade into the lock to make it short-circuit and open. “Any ideas? He seems pretty out of it.”

Dez grunts, bending the metal away from the bruised tail and moving on to the restraint across Mose's lower belly. “Are there any stim packs in this place?” This room looks like a twisted version of a medical bay. Surely there has to be some medical supplies?

“No idea.” Davarax replies, pulling the tubes out of Mose's arms. “But I'm not sure how, or even if, Hutt biology reacts to stims.”

Exhaling no small amount of frustration, why hadn't they thought of this, Dez looks up at Mose's face and has a crazy idea. “We'll have to carry him.”

“There's no way we'll be able to carry him.” Davarax gently taps the side of Mose's face, trying to make him wake up through sheer force of hope.

Dez starts working on another metal restraint, the one across the middle of the big belly. “We might.” He forces the lock open. “If we disable the safety on our jetpacks.”

Davarax pauses, considers it, probably mulls over how dangerous it could be as those restrictions are there for a reason. If they overheat, they will either shut down or explode, the latter one bound to either kill or severely injure them. Eventually Davarax still gives a decisive nod. “It's worth a try.” He turns his back towards Dez. “Do it.”

Dez finishes opening the restraint on Mose then quickly moves over to open a panel on Davarax' jetpack, plucking out a couple of wires and after a moment of hesitation, he cuts them. Dez turns and waits for Davarax to do the same with his, then they both go back to freeing the Hutt.

When the final restraint is gone, Mose instantly sags forward and they grab an arm each and ease it over their shoulders to hold him somewhat upright between them. Dank farrik, he's heavy.

Davarax looks over at Dez. “You ready?”

Dez takes a breath. “Yeah.” He ignores the warning that flashes on his HUD in regards to damage done to his jetpack and the ache in his back from holding up Mose's weight. “Watch his tail.” If Mose moves it near the blast, that tail will be gone.

They activate their jetpacks, which instantly tries to lift them according to data from earlier flights and keeps increasing in power when they're not moving. Soon they are boosting up beyond what is safe...

Eventually the combined force of their jetpacks pushing hard enough to lift a small starfighter has them a couple of inches over the floor and able to start moving ever so slowly towards where the Razor Crest is waiting for them. (The fact that the intense heat from their jetpacks melts deep groves into the floor that will be a nightmare to fix is oddly pleasing to Dez.) Time to go.

Back in the hangar, they arrive to find three fallen bodies next to the Crest which proves Zev'sonya had taken her role as the ship's guardian quite seriously. Dez is starting to really like this girl.

“Is he okay?” Zev'sonya exclaims as she appears at the top of the ramp and runs towards them.

“Anemic and sedated, I think.” Davarax replies, his voice strained. Both he and Dez are sweating like crazy after what feels like carrying a dewback for ten hours.

They get on board the ship, eases Mose down to rest in the cargo area, and Dez heads up to the cockpit to start the ship's engines, leaving Zev'sonya to look after her friend and Beskar Boy to deal with the two glowing hot jetpacks that might still explode at any moment.

The Razor Crest comes to life and disappears into the darkness of space before the few remaining souls on the space station can muster up any kind of counter-attack.

Even after an entire hour of nothing happening, other than daring to take off his helmet, Dez continues to keep an eye on the radar, just in case. He doesn't look over when Davarax finally joins him in the cockpit and stands next to him. “The kids okay?”

“Mose seems okay, but not quite ready to dance yet. Zev is watching over him like a broody tipyip.” Davarax replies. He then has the audacity to touch the bloodstained fabric on Dez' arm. “I'll help you with this.”

Dez yanks his arm away and finally takes his eyes off the radar to glare up at Beskar Boy. Does he think he can't handle a damn graze? He's no weakling in distress, he's a Vizla! “You think I need your help? You think I can't deal with this myself?”

Davarax takes his helmet off and walks over to place it on the co-pilot seat. “I didn't say that. I just said I would help you with it. That's all.” He opens a panel and takes out a medical kit and has the nerve to walk back to Dez' side. “Let me help you, okay?”

Clenching his jaw, Dez keeps quiet and reluctantly lets Davarax take a hold of his arm and start cleaning the wound with a disinfectant. Things goes from insulting to weird and downright uncomfortable because Davarax takes his time, keeps his touch light and gently dabs the blood away instead of just wiping it clean and burning it shut. It feels... nice. And 'nice' and 'Davarax' do not mix well together up in Dez' head. “Can you hurry up?” He snaps.

“Why?” Beskar Boy asks a little absently, crouching next to him, focused on his work.

“I could have dealt with it a lot faster myself.” Dez declares. “I don't have time for this.”

“Oh?” Davarax finally looks up at him. “Are you in a hurry? Going somewhere? Did the Emperor summon you? No? Then shut up and let me do this.”

Dez blinks, utterly surprised.

“Dulcy taught me something.” Davarax says with a disgusting touch of warmth to his voice. He starts cleaning the wound again. “Just because we can tolerate pain doesn't mean we have to seek it unnecessarily, Dez. There is no honour in that. As Dulcy says; it's just silly.”

Dez clenches his jaw and stares out the transparisteel. “You're an idiot.”

Davarax huffs a soft laugh and begins wrapping his arm with a bacta bandage.

The second the wound is dealt with, Dez yanks his arm away and demonstrably stares at the radar. “Good deed done. Now, get out.”

“Nope.” Davarax declares in a horribly cheerful tone. “This is my ship. You get out. You're in my seat.”

Hot fury flares up and it takes no small amount of will-power for Dez not to punch him. So what if he's right? Beskar Boy doesn't get to order him around! However, Dez is tired, he just wants to get back to Neleem, so fighting with Davarax just isn't worth it right now. Instead, Dez gets up, scowls at Davarax, who happily ignores him, and leaves the cockpit. Might as well get some sleep.

Below, in the cargo area, Dez glances back at the other two souls on the ship as he steps away from the ladder. That, unfortunately, results in making eye-contact with the girl and she of course takes that as a sign to walk over and talk to Dez. Great...

“How is he?” Dez asks, nodding towards Mose. It's the one thing he's interested in hearing about.

“Asleep again. They got him pretty heavily sedated.” Zev'sonya replies. Her voice is hard with hatred for the mercs who had done this. “But he's going to be okay.” She hesitates, looks as uncomfortable as Dez feels, clears her throat and forces the next words out. “Thank you.”

Dez keeps his focus on Mose. “I'm a Mandalorian. I don't let kids get kidnapped and bled.”

“But you didn't have to call him your nephew.” Zev'sonya counters, a tiny tinge of fragility in her voice. “Me and him, we didn't really have much of a family before, so... I know what that meant to him.”

Two things happen at once: Dez can feel his face flush with embarrassment and a thought strikes him: - It's me? Dank farrik, Paz has it from me!

Dez has always huffed at how his son's face will turn red whenever he's embarrassed, putting his emotions on display for everyone to see, but now Dez can feel his own face burning and he desperately wishes he hadn't removed his helmet. He's never thought much about what was going on with his own face in the past as he always wore his helmet around others. Plus; no one dared to say or do anything to make Dez feel embarrassed so it wasn't really something that happened a lot.

“It's, uh, yeah, he's... you're both... yeah...” Dez awkwardly pats her shoulder, then turns and stalks over to the corner furthest away from them to sit down there.

Luckily the girl takes the hint and goes back to Mose.

Dez' arm should be aching and smelling of burned flesh, instead it is only slightly sore and the bacta doing its work tickles a bit. Dez' face is still hot and he knows he acted like an idiot in addition to looking like one. His stomach is a tense ball. His jaw aches from clenching it so hard.

Sitting in the shadows, scowling at nothing, Dez misses the old days when he didn't have to deal with weird situations like this!

Davarax joins them in the cargo hold later on, telling them that he'd informed Dulcy and the others that Mose is safe and that they're heading home.

Home. Dez tastes the word. Home? He's had Coverts in the past, but never a home... Frowning, he curls up tighter and looks away from where Beskar Boy and his two children are talking together.

It's a long journey back. Once the Razor Crest finally touches ground, Dez stands by the door and waits eagerly for it to lower the ramp and let him out of this prison. Freedom is within reach when he realizes someone has moved to stand next to him. Dez tenses up.

“Thank you.” Mose mumbles.

Oh. A bit of the tension bleeds away from his shoulders. Dez keeps his gaze on the door. “No thanks needed. We look after our own, you know that.”

“It's why few people would be stupid enough to kidnap a Mandalorian. A Hutt, though...” Mose sighs. “Thank you.”

Dez slowly turns his head and looks over at Mose. “Hey...” He meets the Hutt's gaze, holds it firm as he repeats his words to leave no room for doubt. “We look after our own.”

Luckily the ramp lowers at this point, giving him a chance to escape and not having to deal with all the emotions he can see whirling in those big Hutt eyes.

Outside of the ship, the kids are waiting with accusatory glares and anxious concern, only Liita seems to be missing, but Dez doesn't stop to talk to them. He'll only mess it up by saying something wrong, so he'll let Beskar Boy say the right things. He gives Paz' shoulder a light squeeze as he walks by him, pleased to see he's there and doing well, ignores his son's questions, quickly shies away from Dulsissia hovering behind his boy and heads instead for Neleem standing in the doorway.

“Hey.” Dez says with a slight smile as he comes to a halt in front of her.

Her dark eyes linger on his bandaged arm for a moment before she studies his face. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“I am now.” Dez replies. “Can we go inside?” The loud talking by the ship is grating on his brain.

Only when they're inside their private room does the tension leave his shoulders entirely and Dez can finally relax. He even manages to give Neleem a real grin. He's missed her. Looking at her now, he recognizes what that feeling in his chest had been. He's missed her like crazy. Dez takes her hand, eases her closer and steals a kiss from her lips. “What about you, Vizla Baby Mama? You been doing okay while I was gone?”

Neleem rolls her eyes, but she fails to hide her flustered smile. “I somehow managed to survive while sitting by the window, wringing my hands and counting the days for your return.” She steals a kiss of her own as he breathes an amused laugh before she pushes Dez away and gives him a haughty look. “But I am going to knock your ego down a notch.”

Even more amused, Dez leans back against the door and gives her his most obnoxious smirk. “Oh?”

Raising a coy eyebrow, Neleem saunters over to the corner table and picks up the medical scanner lying there. She holds it up for him to see. “Ready?” Not really waiting for an answer, Neleem scans herself and turns the scanner to read the results.

And in front of his eyes, Neleem transforms from smug confidence to shocked silence. Her eyes widen with stunned disbelief.

“Told you.” Dez says, concluding that the scan must have shown she's pregnant. Just like he said she would be. Hah. He takes a deep breath. So, it's really happening. There's going to be a child. Dez takes another deep breath, then wonders if there is something wrong with him or the room or the air itself, because neither breath helped and he needs oxygen. Now. He clears his throat and shakes his head a little. He can't get sick as they're having a child together.

“Dez?” Neleem slowly lowers the scanner.

Dez forces himself to smile. His lungs ache. Why isn't he getting enough air? And why is the room getting so karking bright? He gulps down some more air. His fingertips feel cold.

“Dez!” Neleem rushes over, grabs his arm and starts dragging him towards their bed. “Sit down. Come on, sit down.” Dez nods and sits down as he's inexplicably dizzy.

“Keep your head down.” Neleem says, running her hand in circles on his back. “Breathe. That's it.”

Nodding a couple of times more, Dez tries to focus on breathing and eventually his stupid body remembers to do its job and his chest starts to decompress.

“Dez...” Neleem's hand rests on her back and her voice is small and uncertain. “Are you having second thoughts? Are you regretting-” “No.” Dez sits up straight in a hurry and looks right into her eyes. “No, I want this.” He says, and means it. “With you. I do.”

Neleem's eyes glimmer with tears and even a bit of relief. She sags forward and rests her forehead against his shoulder.

Easing his arm around her, Dez tells himself that he'll get things right this time. He will. He has to.

Neleem:

Everything changes after she learns she's pregnant. Neleem was prepared for things to change, knew there would be challenges because life never makes anything easy, and she was willing to work through them if it meant they would come out happier and stronger on the other end. She prepared herself for all kinds of scenarios. Even the worst.

(Dez agrees to keep the pregnancy a secret for the first couple of months, respectful even though he doesn't share her concerns about how her being a togruta and him being human increases the risk of things going wrong. “Neleem, our kid has Vizla blood and that makes them as tough and resilient as Beskar. You'll see.”)

But what Neleem couldn't prepare for was the downright weird, which is exactly how Dez starts to behave.

At first she keeps thinking he is regretting his decision as he becomes distant and will barely touch her, but that also doesn't make sense as she will catch him looking at her, when he thinks she isn't paying attention, and his eyes are warm and happy. He'll curl up on his side of the bed at night, making sure there is distance between them, but if she curls up to him, he'll hold her like he never wants to let go. Trying to talk to him about it only gives her elusive answers which leaves her confused and him visibly anxious. It doesn't make sense.

Maybe it's just Mandalorian culture? Dez had told her from the very start that it wasn't a way of life built on sentimentality or softness in general. Even their weddings were private and efficient rather than a big celebration of love.

“When you were pregnant with Nemi,” Neleem tries to sound nonchalant when she speaks to Dulcy, “what was Davarax like? All stoic Mandalorian attitude?”

“Velcro.” Dulsissia firmly replies before laughing and shaking her head, fully focused on whatever she is writing. “I swear, that man couldn't keep his hands off me. It was a complete opposite to when I was carrying Corin. Dav was so sweet and clingy that I wanted to marry him all over again every single day.”

Neleem swallows hard and stares out the window. Not Mandalorian culture then. Is it her?

She finally gets a piece to the puzzle one morning in their room when Neleem is running a hand over her belly, it's only been a couple of months but she swears she can feel a distinct change, and she catches Dez sneaking a peek over at her while pretending to work on something on his vambrace.

“It might just be my imagination,” Neleem says, “but if what I'm feeling is real, we might end up with another Paz-sized kid around here.”

Dez pauses in his work and his gaze rests on the hand she has on her stomach.

Neleem decides to risk it. “You want to feel?”

That seems to shock him. “I can?”

“Yeah.” Neleem barely has gotten the word out before he's up on his feet and over by her side, his hand sliding next to hers. There is a faint, but giddy smile on his lips. It's sweet. And reassuring.

This experience is not new to him, but it is to her and frankly, at times it is a bit scary.

“Does it feel like with Paz?” Neleem asks with a nervous laugh. He must have been a huge baby.

To her surprise, Dez snorts amused. “Are you kidding me? Skade made it perfectly clear she'd break my wrist and possibly my neck if I touched her after she got pregnant.” He caresses her stomach and gives her a bright and excited grin. “You definitely feel different.”

Neleem holds on to her smile through pure willpower combined with the joy she feels about his obvious delight in the moment, but her mind is chewing on what Dez had said. He rarely, barely at all, talks about his former wife and has made it clear that it is not something he wants to talk about. All this time Neleem figured it was anger over her walking out on their son and his pride being hurt due to a broken marriage that made it an off-limit topic, but now an uneasy feeling is churning inside her chest. What if there is more to it than that?

She needs to learn a bit more about this Skade...

“Hey, Paz, can I talk to you?” Neleem asks, approaching where he is sitting on the fence in the backyard of the house, watching Raga doing target practice with increasing skill and decreasing patience with every shot she deems less than perfect. It's just the two kids there. Perfect.

Paz glances over at Neleem and shrugs with easy trust. “Sure. What's on your mind?”

He really is a sweet boy. Young man is more like it, considering his age, but Dulcy is right; they will always be babies to them. Paz has his father's eyes. Only with far less bitterness in them. Neleem hesitates, suddenly worried it might not be a good idea to go through with it, but an encouraging smile gives her the courage needed. “Listen, I want to ask you something and you are absolutely allowed to tell me to mind my own business, okay?”

Frowning confused, Paz nods.

Another moment of hesitation before Neleem asks. “What was your mother like? You were quite young when she left, I know, I was just wondering what you remember of her. Dez refuses to talk about her, as you know.”

A harshness emerges in Paz' eyes and his mouth draws into a thin line. Neleem is pathetically relieved that it is quite obvious that his anger is not directed at her, but rather his mother. It makes sense. She'd be angry too if her mother just left without a word.

“I don't remember too much...” Paz grumbles. “But I do remember her. I remember her voice. She was always shouting. Arguing. So while I wanted her attention, it was never a good idea to actually get it.” He clears his throat to buy himself some time to bottle up his feelings again. “Sorry. That's not really helpful, is it?”

“Actually, it is.” Neleem replies a little wistfully. It strengthens her suspicions. She reaches out and runs her hand up and down his arm. “I didn't mean to open old wounds. I'm sorry. I just... He refuses to talk about her and I didn't know who else to ask.”

Paz nods, clearly weighed down by old memories. “It's okay. I've tried to get him to talk about her several times, but it's like ramming your head against a wall, isn't it? After she left, it was like saying her name would summon some horrible spirit.” He suddenly sits up a little straighter and looks a bit defiant. “You know, as a kid I thought it was somehow my fault that she left. Now I'm glad she left and I want her to stay gone.” His words take on a softer tone. “After Dulcy entered the Covert and I saw her with Davarax, I saw how two people who love each other should behave. And then, when you came along, I actually saw my father happy. I never saw him happy with my mother.” He blinks as he realizes something. “Hey, you should ask Davarax. He probably remembers a lot more than I do. And useful stuff too.”

“What are you two talking about?” Raga asks as she walks over to them, clearly too curious to keep practicing her accuracy.

“My mother.” Paz replies before Neleem can say anything.

Raga makes a face as she takes up position next to Paz, resting her arms on top of the fence he's sitting on. “Oof. Old Man Vizla won't like that.”

“No, he won't.” Paz drawls, then grins. “But what he doesn't know can't hurt him. Or piss him off.”

That has Raga cackling an approving laugh.

“Do you remember her, Raga?” Neleem asks, now that the secret is out anyway.

Raga shrugs and wrinkles her nose. “Barely. I was only four when she left. I remember she was tall and loud and that she was the only one who could make 'my' mother shut up, which is why I think my mother, and my father, never liked her.”

“Ask Davarax.” Paz repeats, far more gently than Neleem deserves for being so nosy.

But it takes her close to six days before Neleem is given a chance to talk to Davarax in private. She learns he's going to do some fine-tuning on the Razor Crest's computer system, the man showers that ship with as much love and attention as he does his wife and children, Din being in town with Dulcy and Corin means he'll be alone, and that is the perfect opportunity.

Entering the cockpit of the Razor Crest, Neleem sees the broad shouldered shape of Davarax sitting his the pilot seat. She forces herself to walk over to stand next to him and glues on a smile. “Hey.”

In the middle of plotting in commands on the computer, he sends her a quick glance accompanied with a, mildly confused, smile of his own. “Hey. Something wrong?”

“No.” Neleem makes her way over to the co-pilot seat and sinks down to sit down at the very edge of it. “I, uhm, I wanted to ask you something. In private.”

That catches his attention and Davarax pushes two more buttons before he sits up straight and focuses on her completely with an amused look on his face. “Okay, now you got me curious.”

Neleem breathes a nervous laugh, nodding to acknowledge the weirdness of the situation, and she looks down at the floor because eye contact would rob her of her courage. “I wanted to ask you... if you could tell me about Paz' mother? What was she like?”

Davarax hums and he leans back in his seat. “I take it Dez still refuses to talk about her?”

Glancing up at Davarax, Neleem nods. “I was fine with it as long as I thought he was angry with her on his son's behalf and nurturing his own wounded pride, but...”

“But?” Davarax gently prods, now with concern in his eyes.

“But now I think I need to now more about her.” Neleem hopes Dez will forgive her for this if he ever finds out. (He doesn't want to talk about his first wife, but that doesn't mean Neleem can't ask others, right?) “Will you tell me about her?”

Davarax hesitates, stalls for a moment by looking forward through the transparisteel, then he finally glances back at her and lifts a warning finger. “For the record, the things I'm about to tell you, this was the time before me and Dez became best buddies forever and ever. Okay? Back then, me and him weren't... exactly... simpatico. That doesn't mean I feel the same way now. Just, keep that in mind, yeah?”

Neleem nods. “Duly noted.” She knew she had married a complicated man with a complicated past.

Clearing his throat, Davarax looks a little awkward. “So, her name was Skade. She was tall, loud and obnoxious. Just like Dez. I thought they were perfect for each other.”

“They were quite young when they got married, right?” Neleem has done the math based on Paz' age compared to his father's.

“Yeah.” Davarax confirms. “Dez was eighteen.” He frowns and scratches at the stubbled front of his throat as he rummages through the past. “Skade was either twenty two or twenty three. I'm not sure. It was quite the surprise. Nobody expected that marriage to happen as she always had a thing for Pre, who ironically couldn't care less about her. All he cared about was preparing for war.”

Neleem wonders if the nausea she's feeling is the pregnancy or what she's hearing. “He didn't even care that she married his younger brother?”

“He was furious.” Davarax says. “Not so much because Dez married Skade, but that Dez had the audacity to marry at all. He expected him to help him prepare for war, not start a family. However, as we both know, Dez is as stubborn and ornery as a sore-hoofed mudhorn and does whatever he wants.”

“Dez was in love with her.” Neleem whispers. She's seen what he's willing to do for love.

“Probably.” Davarax replies, then makes a face. “Kind of hard to tell. They were fighting from day one. Always shouting and yelling and snarling.”

That she did not expect. Neleem blinks surprised. “From the very beginning?”

“Yup.” Davarax confirms and then shakes his head with resigned bafflement. “I just figured it was their thing. I mean, it sounded exhausting and mean to me, but whatever rocked their boat, right?”

It doesn't make sense to Neleem. Arguments always leave Dez distressed. No, he's at his most content when they are basically cuddling. “They spent five years together, fighting non-stop?”

“Yeah.” Davarax huffs. “They were fighting about Pre's war preparations, about how Dez was reluctant to take over as the clan leader and replace Pre, about how to raise their son, about Dez' choice of armor, about how they didn't have the largest of the Vizla living quarters, about Dez losing a fight to Furyan, about my sister choosing to send me out on most missions, about Dez being lazy, about Dez not...” His voice trails off and Davarax suddenly frowns as he seems to lose himself in his memories. His eyes flicker as if he's watching a holo-movie rushing by him. Then there is a flare of hot anger in Davarax' eyes before he squeezes them shut and thumps his head back, hard, against the headrest of the pilot seat.

Startled, Neleem flinches a bit. “Davarax?”

“He didn't fight back.” Davarax grits out, voice tight with the anger she'd seen, and he seems to need a moment to get control of it before he can open his eyes again and look at her. “I just realized; he never fought back. It was always her. She was always yelling and complaining and he'd barely open his mouth.” A bitter smile. “And I didn't realize until this very moment because I was too busy being selfish and jealous. Dez was a jerk and yet he was living my dream, a partner and children, while I was hunting down felons with no hope of anything else in my future.” He thumps his head again, clearly frustrated, before he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a controlled exhale. “I can't believe I didn't realize. The guy was drowning in front of my eyes for years and I didn't see it. No wonder he's been so angry with me.”

Despite how his words had made the unease she'd felt about Dez' past triple, Neleem can't help but to reach out and take a light hold of Davarax' hand. “Listen, you were both kids back then. And you had your own problems. Don't be too hard on yourself, okay?”

Davarax grunts, torn between the urge to blame himself and doing as he's told. “Next time he tries to punch me, I'm going to let him.”

Neleem has to smile, despite everything, and she squeezes his hand. “I don't think that'll achieve much, do you?”

Shrugging with a morose look on his face, Davarax sinks under the weight of guilt. “Tell that to the guy who needed a friend and got called obnoxious instead.”

While Dez has his personal stuff to work on, Neleem also feels bad for Davarax too with his intense need to save everyone and his inability to say 'no' to 99% of requests sent his way. It's an exhausting way to live. People pleasers of his level usually burn out hard. Maybe meeting Dulcy and having her former husband cause Davarax to lose his helmet had actually saved his life? “We can't do anything about the past. All we can do is try to help him now. Which you are, by being his friend despite his temper and paranoia.” She gets up and moves her hand to rest on Davarax' shoulder for a moment. “Thank you for telling me about Skade. It explains some things I was wondering about.”

It's endlessly easier to do battle when you know your enemy, even if it is a ghost from the past.

Dulsissia:

Dulsissia is chattering away about the day, about the kids and the trouble the other Saxons, Vizlas and whatnots had gotten into, when she notices that Davarax is unusually quiet this evening. While she's been talking and getting ready for sleep, he's been sitting on the bed and only occasionally nodding to her words. Turning to properly face him, Dulsissia studies his face and sees something is clearly weighing heavily on his mind. “Hey.” She says.

Blinking, snapping out of his half-daze, Davarax focuses on her. “Sorry, what?” He'd clearly not been listening at all. “I didn't... I'm sorry.”

Dulsissia walks over and sits down next to him, reaching out her hand to gently cup the side of his face. “What's wrong, sweetie?”

Sighing, Davarax covers her hand with his and leans into her touch. “Neleem asked me about Paz' mother today.”

“The one we don't talk about.” Dulsissia mumbles.

“The very one.” Davarax confirms. “But I figured she had the right to know about her, considering she's with Dez, and we both know Dez won't tell her so...”

“So you helped our friend.” Dulsissia concludes, running her thumb over his scruff. “That's a good thing, my big, beautiful, kind and adorable man. Okay?” She expects to see the usual awkward smile on his face after her words, but instead he seems to fold in on himself a bit and that worries her.

“It made me realize what a selfish and stupid brat I was.” Davarax mutters.

Confused, Dulsissia frowns. “What are you talking about?”

“I was so jealous when Dez got married and was to be a father. I hated his guts.” Shame is soaking every word that leaves Davarax' lips. “And it really annoyed me that they were fighting all the time instead of being grateful for what they had and what others... really wanted. I was so busy being petty that I completely failed to notice the obvious.”

“Which was?”

There is a moment of hesitation before Davarax makes a frustrated sound, lets go of her hand and leans away to create some distance between them. “He never fought back. She was always picking away at him, always unhappy with something about him or something he did, constantly trying to push him into a fight with Pre, and I failed to notice how Dez would usually keep quiet or just walk away.” He dares a glance back at Dulsissia. “That woman tore him to shreds, daily, and yet I've never heard him say one bad thing about her other than how she walked out on their son.”

Dulsissia needs a second to digest this information, stunned by what she's heard as she struggles to imagine the Dez she knows putting up with any of that, but then realizes that Macero would never have been able to trick the woman she is today either. Back then Dez had been young and in love, just like her. And, unfortunately, it also sounds as if he'd fallen for the wrong person too. “Sweetie...” Dulsissia eases Davarax close again and wraps her arms around him. “You were just a kid too. You can't blame yourself. And no matter how much you'd like it, you can't save everyone.”

Davarax sighs, a resigned sound. “You sound like Neleem. She said something similar.”

Humming a laugh, Dulsissia places a brief kiss by his temple. “That's because we are both brilliantly wise women who know what we're talking about.”

That finally gets a smile from Davarax, but it's a brief thing before more guilt emerges in his eyes. “It used to piss me off how he's always swinging his fists at me, thinking it was because I 'stole' Paz, because I wouldn't hesitate to that again. But now? Now I keep thinking I deserve the punches for not helping him back then.”

“No.” Dulsissia says, gently but leaving no room for argument. “It's sweet of you, as usual, but no. Him punching you won't fix anything and you certainly do not deserve it. Understand?”

Davarax nods, but it is halfhearted and clearly unconvinced.

Dulsissia grabs a hold of his chin and forces him to meet her eyes. “He does not get to punch you. And I 'will' tie you to a chair and have the kids tell you, in agonizing detail, how wonderful you are and how much you mean to them if you keep talking like this.”

This time the smile on Davarax' face lingers and some of the weight eases off his shoulders.

The very next day, Dulsissia is reminded of what Davarax had told her the previous evening when she spots Dez Vizla sitting by himself, half-hidden behind the house. It is quite rare to find him alone Usually he is with Neleem, his son or surrounded by some of his devoted followers, even occasionally alongside Davarax when Dez can't get away fast enough. It's like fate has arranged it, and who is Dulsissia to argue with fate?

Taking a deep breath, she walks over to where the man is focused on sharpening a vibro blade. “Hello, Dez.”

His gaze flicks up and Dez eyes her with his usual disdain. It's a bit hilarious how he always looks her with cautious wariness like she is some venomous snake that might strike at any moment, especially considering how he could probably snap her in half with just his hands. “Dulcy.” Dez greets her in a drawl. Even his voice is laced with suspicion. If she sneezed right now, he'd probably have a heart attack.

She always assumed he didn't like her because she'd entered the Covert as an Outsider, helped Paz run away, and had the audacity to speak to the glorious Dez Vizla like he was a mere human instead of some kind of deity. However, after what Dav had told her, Dulsissia wonders if he simply stopped trusting people? Maybe, as the cliché goes, it wasn't her, it was him?

“Look at you hiding away.” Dulsissia comments with a warm smile, which only seems to unsettle him even more, and she pushes her luck a little by sitting down next to him. She ignores his deepening scowl with ease. “Are you doing okay?”

“Why wouldn't I be?” Dez replies defensively.

Dulsissia scoots a little closer to him. “No reason. I just like to check up on my friends and I do consider you my friend.”

Dez rolls his eyes. “Don't you start too. Davarax is annoying enough with that shit.” He means to get up and probably flee, but Dulsissia takes a hold of his hand and that freezes him in place.

“He means it.” Dulsissia insists with gentle but firm words, and she also ignores how Dez' scowl is now aimed at their hands. “And so do I. You can talk to me, you know?”

That makes him lift his gaze to her face again, but now to stare at her like she's lost her mind and he's worried it might be contagious.

Dulsissia gives his hand a light, encouraging squeeze. “I know; what would you and I talk about, yes?” She almost smiles at the faint rise of his left eyebrow as he drily agrees with her question. “We have a lot in common, you and I.” Dulsissia insists.

The eyebrow draws down into the usual scowl to show his disagreement.

Dulsissia holds his gaze. “I didn't think so either at first, because you are very good at keeping people at a distance and hiding your true self. I lived in the Covert for years, years mind you, and I had no idea who you really were.”

That gets her another eye roll. For a grown man, Dez loves to act like a sullen teenager.

“Paz.” She says, and that gets Dez' attention again at least. “We both love that boy. We'd both lay our lives down for him.” A reluctant nod of agreement or approval, or both, but Dez' eyes remain as cautious and distant as before. Time for the headshot. “And we both married the wrong person when we were young.”

Dez blinks with obvious surprise, clearly not expecting those words, before he manages to regain his neutral face. “What are you talking about?”

“I was seventeen when Macero started courting me and making me fall in love with him. I'm guessing you were pretty young too when you-”

“I didn't marry a karking Imp.” Dez snaps and his entire body radiates tension.

Dulsissia squeezes his hand again, meaning it to be calming, and sighs when he responds by simply yanking himself free with one, sharp move. She hopes her words can reach him instead. “I don't think being an Imp made Macero cruel, it was in his nature by then. A bad person doesn't have to be an Imp to be bad. Paz' mother, she-”

“You don't know anything about her.” Dez cuts her off once again, now visibly angry.

“Dav told me how she treated you and that you-”

“Davarax needs to mind his own business!” Dez shoots in with even more fury. He shifts his weight uneasily, clearly wanting to flee. “She treated me just fine.”

It's the tiniest signals she reads in his body language that tells Dulsissia that Dez is lying. “She didn't, did she? Is that why you insisted on being alone all this time? Because she made you think you were the problem?” Macero certainly made Dulsissia question herself and after she'd fled with Corin, she swore to never marry and become someone else's pawn again. It's why she turned down Davarax' first proposal. “Bad people often make others think they are to blame.”

“She didn't do anything to me. She didn't make me think anything. This is ridiculous.” Dez insists and his entire posture changes. His flight instinct is replaced with fight, just like a cornered animal desperate to fend off its attacker. “And stop looking at me like that!”

“Like what?”

“Like I'm some karking... victim.” Dez spits out the last word with raw contempt. “I'm a Vizla, I'm not some helpless weakling. You can sit on your pathetic offer of pity and twirl on it, and while you're doing that: mind your own damn business!”

Dulsissia knows she's swimming in dangerous waters, his rage is not to be taken lightly when he gets defensive like this, but she can't turn back now. It is adorable that Neleem and Dez thinks she doesn't know that Neleem is pregnant, despite her ravenous appetite, constantly touching her stomach and him being even more protective that usual, but it is the reason why Dulsissia feels a strong urge to help sort out this issue before that child arrives. “It became my business when you married my friend.”

Dez instantly deflates and that proves once again why Dulsissia continues to have faith in him; Neleem means more to him than his pride and ego. For her, he'll be willing to listen. “She...” The anger is now gone from his voice and leaves it soft and uncharacteristically uncertain. His dark eyes flicker like he can't get himself to actually look at Dulsissia. “She said something? About me?”

Dulsissia wishes Dez would let her hug him because she can see the quiet dread in his gaze. He's been trying, everyone knows that, and now he fears it's not been good enough. Just like Paz' mother had drilled into his head. Just like Corin's father had tried to manipulate Dulsissia. It's so painfully obvious. For all his arrogance, all his big talk, Dez Vizla hides no small amount of fear behind his posturing. He might be the best actor Dulsissia has ever seen. “Only that she loves you.”

For a second, Dez closes his eyes in relief before he straightens and tries to scowl at Dulsissia again.

“Listen to me, Dez.” She says before he can start spouting his Vizla silliness again. “The fact that a bad person abused our trust doesn't mean we're weak. It just means they were a bad person.” She sees a flare of anger rising in his eyes again and hurries to continue. “Just remember that Neleem is not her. You don't have to prove anything to Neleem.”

“I know that...” Dez mumbles, but he's not very convincing.

“Good.” Dulsissia offers him a friendly smile. “Learn from the past, but don't let it haunt you.”

“Did your Imp haunt you?” Dez asks and seems as surprised as her at his question.

Dulsissia shrugs. “Yes. And even now there are days when I can hear his whispers. He spent years convincing me I was nothing but a golden broodmare that would be his ticket into high society. I'm more than that, I know that now, but every time I fail at something I can hear his voice.”

Now Dez' full attention rests on her. “Do you hate him?”

This isn't just about Macero, Dulsissia suspects Dez is gauging what he's 'allowed' to feel about Skade. “Some days I do. When I hear his toxic whispers.” The Macero she fell in love with was so very different from the one she married. “Always, when I think about what he would have done to Corin if we hadn't left.” She shrugs again. “And other days, when I realize how lucky I am to have Corin, a part of me is actually grateful to Macero. I love my son. I wouldn't want a life without my boy.”

Dez lets out a shaky breath and looks away.

“Hey...” Dulsissia dares to reach out and take a hold of his hand again, making Dez look back at her. “Ease up on the silent, tough guy act and let your friends know you and help you, okay? It's difficult to trust again after what we've been through, but it's worth it. You can trust me on that.” She winks at him.

Dez almost smiles a little before he catches himself and gives her a gruff nod instead.

Dez:

The blonde witch might be interfering in things that are not her business, her words still won't stop tumbling around inside Dez' head. He might have been able to block out her nonsense if not for the fact that it touches by the unease that has been curled up inside him ever since the pregnancy. What if he doesn't have to feel like this until everything goes wrong again? It's worth a try.

It's easy to find Neleem. She's out with the kids, his clan had brought all of their little troublemakers when they decided to follow him out of the darkness, and she's trying to organize some kind of a school for them. He waits for her to finish and his heart clenches when she notices him and her face lights up with a happy smile. It takes a lot not to smile back at her, he can't do that in front of the other Mandalorians, but he takes her hand when she walks over to him and asks with a silent tug if she'll walk with him for a bit.

Neleem does. She sends him a couple of quizzical glances, must sense that something on his mind, but waits for him to talk and doesn't push. She knows him so well.

Finally they end up standing next to the fence surrounding the sparring area, no one is using it and it gives them a bit of privacy, and Dez takes a deep breath. “I, uh, I need to ask you something. No, that's not... I need you to...”

“I'm listening.” Neleem replies.

Dez hates that he can't seem to find the words. It's so frustrating. “I... I need you to promise me that you'll tell me if I annoy you. Give me a chance to fix it, fix me, before you start hating me?” That sounds so pathetic. She should hate him for sounding so weak.

“Oh, Dez...” Neleem takes his face between her hands, such gentle hands, and makes him look into her eyes. “I promise you that I'll tell you if something is bothering me and I hope you'll do the same, but it's completely natural to get annoyed with each other in a relationship. Everyone gets irritated with their partner.”

Dez frowns. “Not everyone.”

“Yes everyone.” Neleem insists, then takes his hand again. “And I'll prove it to you!” She drags him along and Dez is too surprised to resist. He is further silenced by Neleem finding her first victims as they turn the corner of the house. “Paz. Raga.” The youngsters turn and look at them, halting despite being on the way yo somewhere, clearly curious. “Question: Paz, what's the most irritating thing about Raga?”

Dez expects his son to say 'nothing' and look at his girl friend with devotion. Instead, Paz sends Raga a narrow-eyed glance. “She steals my snacks and never replaces them.”

Neleem nods, as if getting the answer to an advanced science riddle. “And, Raga, what's most annoying about Paz?”

Raga huffs and returns the narrow-eyed glance. “That he's useless before 11 AM.”

“Thank you.” Neleem says, then stalks off again and tugs Dez along. He means to apologize to the kids, dreading they just stirred a hornet's nest between them, but the words never get to leave his lips as Raga and Paz both snicker and pull each other close while trading insults about aforementioned grievances between kisses. Huh.

“Din! Corin!” Neleem shouts, snapping Dez out of his puzzlement and drawing his attention to the other two victims she has honed in on: Din and Corin pause and look at them a small distance away. She drags Dez over to them. “I have a question for you.”

“Shoot.” Din replies.

“What's most annoying about Corin?” Neleem fires off without mercy.

Din blinks, a little surprised, then he looks over at Corin, a little cautiously, but sees the smug expression on his face and drawls: “Whenever the weather turns hot, he turns into Darth Vader.”

Corin huffs, clearly offended, then turns his attention to Neleem and Dez. “And the most annoying thing about Din is how, despite it being warm enough for the walls to melt, he still insists on cuddling all damn night.”

“Thank you, boys.” Neleem says, turning to face Dez. “See?”

“I see that you just started a fight.” Dez points out.

Neleem glances back at Din and Corin, who are now exchanging stuff they love about each other, and she turns to give Dez a meaningful eyebrow raise.

Dez sighs. “Fine. Okay. But... they're kids. They're allowed to have flaws. They'll outgrow them.”

“They're not toddlers, Dez. And everyone has flaws.” Neleem states with a faint laugh of disbelief.

“Not everyone.” Dez mutters. “Beskar B- I mean, Davarax is Sir Perfect. Him and her, they are disgustingly perfect together.”

Neleem is the one to sigh now and she tugs Dez along again. “Come on. I'll prove to you he's got his flaws as well.”

His hopes of them not finding the duo is shattered when they enter the house and find Dulcy and Davarax in the kitchen. Of course.

“Dulcy, I need to ask you something.” Neleem says while Dez considers throwing himself out the window.

“Ask away.” Dulcyreplies cheerfully and gives this bright, open smile like life has never hurt her.

“What is the most annoying thing about Davarax?”

Davarax, leaning back against the kitchen counter next to Dulcy, is absently chewing on something and he looks over at his wife with mild curiosity on his face. There is none of the raw dread Dez would have felt if someone had asked Neleem to point out his flaws in public.

Dulcy purses her lips thoughtfully. “Hmm, let me think...” She taps a finger to her lips a couple of times before holding it up to make her point. “The thing about Davarax that really pisses me off is him in the mornings.”

That, Dez did not expect. He knows Davarax is not grumpy in the mornings like Paz, so why...?

“When I wake up in the mornings,” Dulcy says, “my hair looks like mess, my eyes are all puffy, I have pillow-wrinkles on my face, but he...” Here she points an accusatory finger at Davarax. “This man here. His hair is this charming chaos, his face is all soft and sweet, his smile is gorgeous and his body is all relaxed and warm, and he looks like he's been at a fashion shoot for underwear models and... it's not fair! No one should look that good in the morning!”

Davarax' smile widens with endless adoration. “Dulcy...”

“It's true and you know it.” Dulcy 'scolds' him with a grin of her own.

“You look beautiful in the mornings.” Davarax says, turning to properly face his wife.

“Not like you.” Dulcy counters, reaching out and placing her hands on his chest.

Neleem's eyes narrows as Davarax leans down to give Dulcy a kiss that is happily welcomed. “Okay, Dez, I'm starting to understand why you get so irritated by them.”

Davarax and Dulcy kiss again, soft and chaste, smiling and staring into each other's eyes.

“Right?” Dez says, eager to finally have someone see what he sees.

But when Davarax wraps an arm around Dulcy, pulling her close, and the kisses start to linger, Neleem shakes her head. She ushers Dez out of the room and out of the house along with her. “That's enough of that.”

“Told you.” Dez has to rub it in with a sing-song tone.

Laughing, Neleem loops her arm with his and shakes her head as they walk. “Shut up. Davarax has his flaws. He's a good man, among the best, but he is not flawless.”

Dez makes a doubt-filled hum. “I grew up with him. I've seen how everyone worships him. He was the one in the Covert who every soul wanted as their spouse.” He steals a glance over at Neleem. “Tell me the truth; you probably dreamed about someone like him too when you pictured your marriage.”

Neleem lets out a low, soft laugh as she turns to stand in front of him, forcing Dez to stop, and looks up at him with smug satisfaction in her eyes. “He's sweet, sure, but lucky for you...” She takes a hold of his shirtcollar and tugs him down a bit. “I prefer spice.”

That surprises a huff of a smile from Dez, lets him have a moment of intense happiness, of how right it feels to be with Neleem and the fact that their child grows inside her, before cold curls around his heart like barbed wire and his stomach starts to burn. He reaches up and cautiously takes her hands between his. “I know what I am, and most of the time it's not pretty to be around. I got no idea what they told you about my past, but I suspect they made me sound far better than I was. And while I know you won't let me make the same mistakes that I did with Paz, I also don't want to make the same mistakes that I did with... her.” He swallows hard, remembering the look in Skade's eyes when she glared at him during those latter years. “I made her resent me. Everything I did annoyed her. Me being me made her hate the very sight of me. And eventually I just stopped listening to anything she said. I'm trying to change, be better, you know that, but you have to tell me if I'm too... me, and give me a chance to fix it before it's too late. Before you want to leave.” Dez leans down and gently rests his forehead to hers in a soft kov'nyn. “I don't want to lose you.” He even dares to reach down and place light fingertips to her stomach.

“I've told you before; I won't leave. I love you.” Neleem insists softly, placing her hand over his and pressing it slightly tighter to her stomach. “You're a good man and she should never have made you doubt that.”

“I'm not-”

“You are a good man.” Neleem cuts him off, leaving no room for a debate. “I wouldn't have married you if you weren't. I wouldn't be carrying your child if I wasn't sure. Don't let her poisonous words come between us. You can trust me, you know.”

Nodding, Dez can actually feel the cold starting to ease away from his heart and the burning sensation in his gut quietens down. He does trust her. She won't disappear like Skade did. It's not in Neleem's nature. “I know. And I do.”

“Good.” Neleem smiles, then leans up to kiss him. “Then stop acting like a weirdo.”

Dez blinks. “What?”

“You've been acting like touching me would cause boils to erupt all over your body.”

Startled, Dez flinches and almost withdraws his hand but she tightens her grip and won't let him. “I just...” He stutters. “Do...” Curiosity wins over unease. “You want me close? While you're pregnant?”

“Yes, I do!” Neleem laughs, as if it would be obvious. She releases his hand to take his face between her hands instead, locking his gaze with hers. “We took the vows, remember? We're one. This is our child and we're doing this together.”

That surprises another huff of a laugh out of Dez as, for the very first time in his life, the vows suddenly make sense to him. He'd spoken them before but they had turned out to be nothing but pompous sounding and empty words, which in turn was both confusing and depressing. Marriage had not felt much like becoming one, not to him, it had been more like binding yourself to a duel with the same opponent for the rest of your life. He'd thought himself weak for growing tired of the constant fighting because pressure creates gems, right? But this? Dez realizes that 'this' is what those words were supposed to mean. Just like that, things click into place and make sense.

It's really late when Dez finally makes it back to their room after hours of mediating and threatening his fellow Mandalorians into getting along for another day, without a common enemy to unite them they keep bickering with each other, and he's pleased to find Neleem in bed and apparently asleep. Good. She needs her rest. He was worried he'd be forced to beat the everliving daylights out of his kin if they caused her to lose sleep because he was away all the time to deal with them.

Dez removes his armor, gets ready for the night, then walks over to the bed and hesitates. He studies Neleem's peaceful shape for a moment. He remembers a sharp order from the past, but that fades compared to the present. Neleem said she wanted his touch and he's dying to hold her again despite knowing it is weak of him. Dez takes a deep breath, then gets into bed and cautiously moves over to curl up close to Neleem. He slides an arm around her... Swallowing hard, staring into the darkness, Dez waits for what happens next; acceptance or that sharp order from the past.

Neleem lets out a sleepy hum at his proximity, runs her hand up the arm he has around her and braids their fingers. She wiggles closer to his body before settling again with a smile on her face.

Dez closes his eyes, hides his relief against her neck, and the tension finally leaves his body.

Days and weeks pass by and when Neleem finally breaks and can't keep the pregnancy a secret any longer, Dez feels as proud and smug as a tipyip rooster when the congratulations start flowing. (Beskar Boy even gets to hug him without a fight.) Paz is the one who is almost as excited about this as Dez himself, Raga is happy on their behalf, while Corin whines that he wants a kid too and causes Din's face to stay flushed for almost an entire hour. Mose stares with stunned surprise when Dez declares he expects him to babysit, Liita is more interested in some upgrades she's working on the jetpacks, and Zev'sonya flees the second Leo states that he adores babies...

As for his fellow Mandalorian, well...

Furyan insists on having a celebratory party, where he shouts out crude but well-meaning praise to the revival of certain parts of Dez' anatomy that Dez would have preferred that the man wasn't so invested in. However, it has Neleem laughing so Dez accepts the words with a slight smile and a raise of his glass.

“Furyan!” Sobek calls from across the room.

“Yah?” The man replies in a half-gurgle, his chugging of pure spirits interrupted by his wife.

“Get your ass to our room and remove your clothes.” Sobek orders. “I've changed my mind. Four kids is not enough.”

That has Furyan eagerly heading for the door with a slightly demented cackle, his three sons groaning with embarrassment and horror, while the rest of the clan are laughing loud enough to wake the dead. Dez is relieved to see that Neleem is also still laughing, he knows his people are loud and a bit too honest at times, occasionally exhausting, but they are also extremely loyal and fun to be around, and it is a relief to see that she gets it. She gets them.

A thought hits Dez and he looks around with a slight frown until he spots her; Raga. She's huddled up in a corner with Paz, ignoring what had just happened with ease and obvious experience, but Dez had just realized that she has not spent more than a few minutes with her family since they had arrived. The frown deepens and he takes an absent gulp from his drink.

This is why the very next day he dares to sit down next to Sobek eating her breakfast amidst the chaos of her sons and husband arguing loud enough to make ears bleed. “Hey.”

Sobek glances over at him and her dark eyes narrow suspiciously. “Whatever whomever messed up, I'm not paying for it.”

Dez shakes his head. “That's not why I'm here.”

“Why are you here?” Sobek half-shouts to be heard through the mayhem behind them.

Leaning closer, not wanting to shout, Dez misses the helmets and the internal comm lines. “It's about Raga.”

“What about her?”

Dez hesitates, suddenly knowing how Beskar Boy feels when he's about to say something that will most likely have Dez punch him. What sucks is that Sobek's punches are a LOT more painful than his. “I, uh... I noticed that you spend a lot of time with Furyan and the boys, but I don't see you hanging out with Raga much.”

Sobek shoves some food into her mouth and frowns confused. “So?”

“So...” Dez clears his throat. “So, maybe you... should? She's your daughter.”

Gesturing to where one son is on the floor, clutching his nose, and where the other two are trying to bring their father down, Sobek raises her eyebrows. “You see this? My husband and my sons? They're idiots. They need me. I have to look after them, keep them alive and out of trouble.” She lowers her hand and starts eating again. “Raga doesn't need me. She's tough, just like her mama.”

Nodding, Dez won't argue with that fact, and yet... “I know. I know that, but...”

“But?” Now Sobek sounds and looks annoyed.

“But does she know that?” Dez forces himself to speak the words despite the intense urge to flee. “Does she know that you're proud of her?”

Sobek definitely looks annoyed now. “Of course she knows.”

Clearing his throat, Dez shrugs one shoulder. “Have you told her?”

“What?”

Unsettled by the glare that follows, Dez looks down. “I assumed Paz knew I was proud of him, what father wouldn't be, but hearing nothing but the corrections I gave him made him think he wasn't good enough.”

“You're starting to sound like Davarax.” Sobek drawls, part amused and part nasty.

Exhaling a laugh, Dez nods again. “I know.” He is not thrilled by this fact, but even Beskar Boy has to be right about a couple of things. Dez peeks up at Sobek's face again. “But wouldn't you have liked to have heard it from your parents...?”

Sobek chews thoughtfully.

Raga:

Raga is in the middle of the weekly tormenting of Barthor when the last voice she expects to hear speaks up.

“Raga.”

Surprised, Raga sits up, keeping her knee into Barthor's lower back to pin him in place, to look and make sure, but, yeah, that is indeed her mother standing in the middle of the training arena.

Sobek's armor is gloriously marred by battle and with her arms crossed over her chest there is no mistaking the muscles bulging under the jacket. She is not wearing her helmet, has her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and there is the usual stern expression on her face. (She's the only one who always looks as grumpy as old man Vizla.) “I want to talk to you, ad.”

Sighing, Raga shoves her knee a little harsher into Barthor at the sound of his smug laugh before she reluctantly gets up to face her mother. “I'm listening.”

Sobek nods for Raga to follow her and the two walk over to one of the benches behind the training shed. Once they are seated, Raga waits for her mother to speak so she can get back to pummeling the little cretin who had glued her boots to the floor.

“You did wise in choosing Paz Vizla.” Sobek finally states.

“I know.” Raga replies. “Did you drag me over here just to tell me what I already know?”

Sobek almost smirks. “I'm starting to think I might have, yeah.” She turns to face Raga completely. “Your father and brothers are helpless without me. You're my daughter, you're strong, so I know I don't have to watch over you like I do them. Understand?”

Raga frowns. “Why are you telling me this?”

The almost-smirk turns into a resigned laugh and Sobek shakes her head. “I don't know.” She leans back against the wall behind them and sighs up at the sky. “Because Dez told me to? He told me this tale about how his son didn't know he was proud of him because he never told him, that man has been hanging around with Davarax too much, so he wanted me to tell you what you already know; that I'm damn proud of you, in case you were as thick-headed as his boy.”

Raga tightens her lips into a line as they start to tremble and she has to swallow hard to battle the lump in her throat.

“Well,” Sobek says, getting up, “apologies for wasting your time, ad. I better get back to the others before they accidentally kill each other. See you around.”

“See you around.” Raga whispers, watching her mother march away. She needs a couple of seconds to digest the words and the story behind them. While her parents have never nitpicked at her like old man Vizla did to Paz, she almost wished they would some times as that would have meant they noticed her at least. She's been a ghost in the Saxon quarters for as long as she can remember. So to hear her mother say, out loud, in actual words, that she's proud of her? Not only did she take the time and effort to seek out Raga to talk to her, but say she's damn proud of her?

Raga gets up on her feet, wipes away tears she refuses to acknowledge before stalking towards the shooting range.

Davarax is showing Din some tricks to improve his aim while Corin, Paz and Liita are doing push-ups in front of the scowling Dez Vizla, who hovers over them like a bad omen.

Raga walks over to old man Vizla, takes a hold of the top of his breastplate, ignoring his puzzled look, pulls him down, leans up to place a light kiss on his stubbled cheek, before letting go of his armor and walking away again so he won't see the smile on her face.

Behind her, Raga hears Paz scrambling to his feet and asking his father; “What was that about?”

“I have no idea.” Old man Vizla replies, sounding endlessly confused.

“First Drop and now Raga...” Davarax' voice drawls with glee. “It seems like your father is just very kissable, Paz.”

“I will punch you in the face, Davarax.” Dez growls. “And get back down, Paz. You three have ten more to go.”

Raga fights back a laugh. For some reason, she feels lighter than she has in years.

Dez:

“Hey you.” Neleem chirps, walking over to greet Dez as he returns from a supply run with Din and Corin.

“Hey.” Dez replies, throwing the bags of vegetables he was carrying into the arms of the already overloaded Din and Corin and he ignores their startled objections. He reaches out to gently trap Neleem's face between his hands instead and steals a kiss.

Neleem hums with pleased satisfaction.

Pulling back a little, Dez looks down at her now prominent belly. “And how is this one doing?”

“Restless. All day.” Neleem admits with a resigned smile. “Practicing to become a top class Mandalorian fighter, would be my guess.”

Dez can't stop himself from smiling any more than he could will his heart to stop. His hand moves, but he pauses before he can actually touch her stomach. “Can I...?” It's still unreal that she allows him to place his hands on her while she's uncomfortable and he doesn't want to mess up and lose that privilege.

“Absolutely.” Neleem takes his hand and places it on her stomach. “Maybe you can persuade them to calm down?”

Dez' grin widens and he's mesmerized by the touch. “I told you; Vizlas are tough.”

Din and Corin walk by them, struggling to carry the bags stacked up in their arms.

Neleem caresses Dez' hand and smiles a little herself. “I can't wait to meet them. Do you want another son or another daughter?”

“Son or daughter, that doesn't matter to me.” Dez replies without hesitation and complete honesty. “I'm just eager to meet them too. It's going to be a long couple of months.” He hesitates before adding; “I always wanted a big family.”

Neleem beams up at him. She's been trying to lure him into talking more about his past so she is very happy the few times he does. “Well, we're getting there. Paz, Raga, Liita, this one, and who knows what the future will bring.”

“I like the sound of that.” Dez murmurs, a little embarrassed over his confession but knows she won't make fun of him for it. She's not Skade. He's aware of that, of course he is, but there are times when his instinct tells him to be careful with his words before his brain is able to remind him that Neleem is indeed very different from Skade.

“I heard Dulcy telling Dav that she is becoming broody at the sight of me.” Neleem informs him with glee.

Dez huffs. “First Sobek and now the blonde witch? Stars above, there's going to be a bunch of little rugrats running around here if they go through with this. We might have an army big enough to challenge Kryze herself, claim the Dark Saber and repopulate Mandalore at this rate.”

Neleem laughs. “The Tribe is growing. This is the Way.”

Outright grinning, still dizzy with delight whenever Neleem quotes anything Mandalorian, Dez lifts her hand to his lips and kisses it. “Remember what I told you when you were trying to drag me to your room to have your way with me that first time?”

Neleem's face flushes a little but she stands her ground. “I remember.” He'd made it clear that anything happening between them would be nothing more than a fling as he would be leaving. And, yet, here they are, married and her shirt straining over her stomach.

“I'm glad things turned out differently.” Dez admits, then blinks and quickly adds; “I mean, I'm not glad the Imps ruined your planet and bombed your school and ruined everything, but-”

“I'm glad things turned out differently too.” Neleem reassures him with a smile. “I told myself not to fall in love, but then you stayed longer and I got to know you more and... my plan went flying out the window.”

Dez lowers their hands to rest on her stomach again. “I'm glad things didn't go according to plan.”

“Me too.” Neleem confesses, feeling his gentle caress calming the restless child. Maybe the Vizlas have a secret power, in addition to predicting pregnancies, to calm babies? “And I have a pretty good feeling about our future as well.”

The weirdest thing is that Dez feels the same. Is he still terrified by the idea of messing up again? Absolutely. In regards to both raising the child and Neleem's opinion of him. However, Dez also feels confident enough in himself and his trust in Neleem that he's willing to face that fear. He can do this. No. They can do this. They are one.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #What If AU #Dez Vizla #Neleem #Davarax #Dulsissia Motti #Mose the Hutt #Corin and Din and the others appear of course

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 2 years

Note

Hoping you're doing well my Lady💜💜💜💜

This just popped in to my head as an idea for a one-shot and I just had to get it out;

"What-If AU Dez finds out that someone called his adoptive daughter Limita ugly."

I am doing well, but quite frustrated as my laptop just went belly-up AGAIN! Augh! Luckily the warranty will take care of it, but it's only three months since it last died! AUGH!

This is why it has taken forever and a day for me to get to this ask, because I absolutely LOVED your one-shot idea and I wanted to write it but had to do it by hand, like some 14th century scribe T-T Anyways, thank you so much for the kind words and for giving me the one-shot idea! <3 <3 <3

Words have power

Sitting outside at a good distance from the busy house, savoring solace and the blissful silence, Dez is doing maintenance on his blasters, minding his own business, when Liita appears out of nowhere and sits down next to him. He glances over at her with half-hearted curiosity that instantly morphs into watchfulness when he sees the usual frown on her face is accompanied by a clenched jaw. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.” Liita replies.

She does sound more annoyed than upset, but she might be hiding something. She's a lot like him that way, so Dez decides to prod a little. “Well, you look even more grumpy than usual so something must be bothering you.”

Liita rolls her eyes. “It's just...” She exhales with no small amount of frustration and... something else. “How come not all planets have life, but those that do always have idiots on them?”

“Idiots?” Dez asks, absently putting his blaster back together. He can be a decent guy and listen to the girl's troubles while finishing his work at the same time. Dez always knew how to multitask.

“Yeah.” Liita confirms. “I go to get some parts for the ship at the marked in town, but instead of getting something useful; I get told I'm ugly.”

Dez has no idea what happens to his face, but it makes Liita's eyes widen and she launches herself towards him at the same time as Dez slaps the final piece of his blaster into place and gets up on his feet. She grabs a hold of his right arm with both hands and tries to prevent him from stalking towards town, but that's not going to happen. Because Dez is going to KILL that guy. And then, he is going to revive that foul-mouthed cretin, so he can kill him again. Red rage is roaring inside his skull and the blood is boiling in his veins. First, Dez will use his blade on him, then his blaster, then maybe his flame thrower...

“Sit your ass back down.” Liita growls, straining with all of her might and not even slowing him down. “Don't you be an idiot too!”

Ignoring her ranting and efforts to hold him back, Dez is halfway through his fifth plan on how to skin the cretin alive at the marked when it happens.

“Dad, stop!” Liita shouts.

It's like someone hits him with a stun-gun. Dez comes to such an abrupt halt that Liita smacks into him, but he barely notices. He's too surprised by her words.

Sure, he'd mentioned adoption, but she'd said she'd think about it and never mentioned it again. Dez merely figured that she'd decided she did not want him as her father after all. (Considering what he'd done to Paz, he didn't blame her. He's not as shitty as his own dad, but Liita could get adopted by Davarax in a heartbeat and they both know it. Why choose the lesser option?)

Now Dez is staring at her, stunned, while she still holds on to his arm for dear life and glares at him with pure defiance.

“You...” Dez doesn't know what to say.

“No.” Liita cuts him off. “YOU are not going to go after that guy, you hear me?”

Shock is instantly replaced with the anger he had momentarily forgotten about and Dez snarls. “If that guy thinks he can disrespect m... you, then he is about to-”

“Listen to me, you big oaf; I don't care!” Liita declares, loud and clear. “Don't you go and create a mess because some guy said something stupid that I. Don't. Care. About.”

Dez' eyes narrows. He places a finger under Liita's chin to make her keep eye contact with him as he expects she'll try to avoid confirming what he suspects. “You do the same thing I do, Liit'ika: You try to hide it with anger when it hurts. That's why I know you care.”

Liita's dark eyes flicker for a second. She's tougher and meaner than most creatures Dez has met in his life time, but she is also very young and not made out of Beskar.

Glaring into her eyes, willing her to believe him, putting all of his heart and anger into his words, Dez states the truth: “You are NOT ugly, Liita.”

Liita starts to smile but quickly clamps down on it and glares at him instead. “I know.” She tries to sound haughty. “Now, promise me you won't kill that guy. You're still establishing a new Covert here and we don't need any trouble from family or friends of that loud-mouthed idiot.”

Dez grins. Putting the Covert ahead of her own hurt? The girl IS a Mandalorian.

“What are you smiling for?” Liita huffs as her face turns an even deeper red. She smacks a hard palm to his chest. “Promise me you won't run over there and kill him like some macho idiot.” She smacks him again. Even harder. “Promise me.”

Fighting back a laugh, Dez lifts his left hand in an amiable gesture of giving his word. “Fine. I promise I won't kill him.”

Liita eyes him suspiciously for a couple of seconds longer before she actually lets go of his right arm with an approving nod.

A little of the amusement he's feeling bleeds out and is replaced with a touch of anxious hope when Dez forces the next words out of his mouth: “You... You called me 'Dad'. Does that mean you've decided?”

Liita crosses her arms defensively and glares even harder at him. “Unless you've changed your mind? Being a newly married man and having your big, beefy, perfect son back and all.”

Dez doesn't hesitate. “Of course I haven't changed my mind. Any father would be grateful to have you as their daughter.”

The bitter laugh escapes Liita's lips before she can stop it. “My father didn't think so. He couldn't run away fast enough.”

“Then your father was an idiot too, just like that guy in town.” Dez concludes, feeling a hard lump of resentment in his chest, just like when Skade had left without even saying goodbye to their son.

Now Liita finally does smile, but she lowers her head to hide it and then merely leans forward until her forehead thumps lightly against his chest and she stays like that, resting against him.

Warm affection floods Dez and he gently cradles the back of her neck with his hand. “Liita Vizla. The one with the scary Mando dad. Sounds right, don't you think?”

Liita makes a slight nodding motion.

Dez runs his hand over her hair as he suspects she's every bit as emotional as he is feeling right now. He tries to distract them both. “You're going to have to learn a lot of names. You'll have a lot of family from now on, Liit'ika.” And she's probably going to like less than half of them, just like Dez. They may be family, but a lot of them are still morons. “Just remember that you outrank them all. You keep on not taking any crap from anyone, especially not them, and they'll fall into line eventually.”

Liita looks up at him with a quizzical frown. “Why would I outrank them? I don't even have armour.”

Moving his hand to cup the side of her face, Dez smirks with smug confidence and delights in at least having one thing to offer the girl willing to become his child. “Your dad is their king, that makes you a princess and princesses don't take no crap.”

Again Liita has to fight against a smile and she scoffs, but without much ire in it. “You sound like such a dork. Mandalorians don't have a king.”

“Our clan does and that is me.” Dez counters without hesitation or doubt, and still with a grin on his face. He's earned that title, dank farrik, paid for it with blood and sweat, and nothing will prevent him from making sure his kids will benefit from it. Besides, Paz, Raga and Liita are strong and honourable souls, excellent leaders, who will bring order and prosperity to their clan, which tends to start self-destructing if not supervised, so it will be a win-win situation for them all, really. “By the way, are you okay with making the adoption official in front of Davarax at dinner tonight?”

Liita rolls her eyes, clearly not surprised by his need to flaunt in front of his eternal rival. “Fine.”

“Excellent.” Dez crows, ruffling her hair and making her back away with a disapproving huff. “Now, you run along. I've got something important to take care of.”

Proving once again how clever she is, Liita eyes him suspiciously. “Where are you going?”

Dez shrugs one shoulder. “I promised I wouldn't kill him. I never said anything about maiming.”

“No, don't you dare! Turn off that jetpack and get back down here. Now!”

“Nobody hurts my daughter and gets away with it, Liit'ika. Nobody.” Dez replies, turning in the air to face the direction of the marked place before heading towards his target. “That's also a promise.”

And while a lot of souls can say bad things about Dez Vizla, most of them probably true, there is one universal truth no one can deny: Dez always keeps his word.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #what if au #dez vizla #liita #the one-shots start coming and they don't stop coming

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

Text

Goodbye

(Because I have no willpower and finally some hours to write, I had to finish Dez’ story arc. Thank you so much @mountevey for your kind interest and even kinder words, and thank you so much @phrenic-a for listening to me complain about Dez being so difficult and giving such wonderful input!)

Dez should have died. It would have been a lot better if he’d died. If he had died, he wouldn’t have had to deal with more mess added to his already messy life.

Neleem is pissed off at him, claiming he kept being sick from her and is not willing to believe his explanation that he didn’t tell her because it was no big deal. Paz looks at him like he’s some kind of monster that could explode at any moment and that boy will never call him buir again.

Liita is threatening to insert a tracker in Dez’ neck so she can follow him everywhere because he clearly needs a bodyguard as he keeps getting trounced. The other kids act like he’s a homicidal nikto and avoid him like the plague.

Dulcy has, for some reason, made it her mission in life to make sure Dez eats and she has a plain scary ability to pick up on it the second he gets a headache or feels nauseous and forces him to rest and drink this terrible herbal tea several times a day. And while all of this is bad, Davarax is worse.

He’d threatened Dez with his so-called friendship and he’d clearly meant it. It’s outright pathetic how the man tries to pretend that he doesn’t think he’s far better than Dez and that he wants him around. Too bad for Beskar Boy that Dez is too smart to fall for his charade.

As he is no weakling, Dez Vizla is up on his feet again to participate on the celebration of Paz’ Life Day. He had not been entirely convinced his son even wanted him there, but Liita said Paz did and she wouldn’t lie. It isn’t a comfortable experience, mostly because of his still healing wound but also due to the way the others look at him.

Dez is very comfortable being the centre of attention, usually he is deserving of it, but he viciously resents the concern and something dangerously close to pity he sees in their eyes. He heads back to his room after about thirty minutes. His stomach aches. His jaw hurts from clenching it so hard.

But Davarax follows him into the hallway and has the audacity to ask if something is wrong, acting like a worried parent, which makes red hot anger flare up Dez’ neck. He wants his pity least of all. It’s unbearable!

Throwing a punch, ignoring the pain as the sudden movement pulls at his wound, Dez aims for Davarax’ face and is quite surprised when his fist simply hits Davarax’ palm as he lifts his hand with frightful speed and blocks the attack with hardly any effort..

Davarax’ fingers curl around Dez’ fist and holds it there, all with a resigned and mildly chastising expression on his face. “That one is for free, Dez. Neleem says you do stuff like this because you got impulse issues like Raga and that you too need a little guidance when it comes to controlling yourself. So consider this your warning; try to hit me again and I will punch back. Understood?”

Glaring, Dez tries to tug his hand free but Davarax’ grip is too strong.

“Understood?” Davarax repeats patiently.

Tugging harder, still nothing, Dez seethes with humiliation. “Yes.” He grits out. “Understood.”

Davarax smiles and nods, pleased. “Excellent.” He lets go and gives Dez’ shoulder a light pat instead. “Is the wound giving you trouble?”

Dez lowers his hand, considers going for a second punch but decides against it. Davarax’ guard is up. He’d never land it. “I’m tired.” Dez turns his face away. “Tell Paz happy Life Day from me.” It would mean more to hear it from Davarax anyway.

“I will.” Davarax says, trying to sound like he’s sad about Dez leaving the gathering. “You want him to stop by later? I can ask him to-”

“No.” Dez figures the boy has stuff planned with Raga and his friends. It’s his Life Day, he shouldn’t be forced to deal with the mess of a father he has. Dez turns his back on Davarax and his stupid face and walks away.

Neleem enters the room a few minutes after Dez had kicked off his boots and gotten comfortable on the bed. She frowns, torn between her established irritation and now being worried. “You okay?”

Dez shrugs. His stomach churns. His wound aches. “I’ll live.” He hesitates. “You didn’t have to leave them to check up on me. I just… I couldn’t stay there. Paz jumps if I so much as coughs and Dulcy looks like she’s ready to do CPR on me whether I need it or not.”

Neleem’s lips tug a bit on a melancholy smile. “Yeah…” She walks over and sits down next to him. “Listen, would you mind if we stay for a little while? Maybe a week or two?”

Dez blinks. They were just meant to visit for Paz’ Life Day and then head back home. But clearly his fears about Neleem not being happy in the Covert were not unfounded. Dez feels a cold wave of nausea and it takes no small amount of will power to act unfazed. He even manages a smile of his own. “Sure.” He says. “Of course we can stay longer.”

Whenever someone in the Covert had brought a troubled child to him, Davarax figured time, patience and kindness would be the key to find out how to help them. In this case, he has little of the first, a lot of the second and Dez doesn’t respond well to the last. Davarax has no idea if he’s going to be able to undo the damage done to this grown man, but after Neleem told him how Dez had been willing to work on himself with her, he has decided to try.

But stars above, Dez is dead set on not making it easy for him.

“Hey, good morning, you want to grab breakfast and shoot some targets after?” Davarax asks as he pokes his head into the room the next morning.

Staring at him like Davarax has lost his mind, Dez shakes his head with a mix of disbelief and disgust. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Get out of my room.” Dez growls. “Before I use you for target practice.”

Okay, that didn’t work.

Later Davarax tries to approach him when Dez is working on getting the blood out of his armour. “Need a hand with that?”

Dez looks up at him, frowning with obvious confusion. “No. Why would I?” His eyes narrow with growing anger. “You think I don’t know how to clean my own karking armour?”

Davarax lifts his hands in mute surrender and walks away. Okay, that didn’t work either.

“Hey, you wanna-”

“No.”

Maybe a different tactic is needed…

Davarax sees Dez sending quick, pained glances over at his son whenever Paz is around and that gives him an idea. He arranges to have Paz and the others have a little play fighting tournament right outside the house and is pleased to see how that draws the ornery one out to observe.

“He’s a good fighter.” Davarax says, taking up position next to Dez to watch Paz and Din go at it. “You should be proud”

Dez grunts and crosses his arms, keeping his gaze on his son. “I am.”

This seems to work, until Dez interferes by shouting out orders and corrections to the youngsters, encouraging more force and mocking the losers, and the play fighting starts getting a little too intense. Davarax is just about to put an end to it when Raga, always the adrenaline junkie and eager to cross the line, ducks under Din’s half-hearted attack and puts all of her strength into it as she plants her fist deep in Din’s stomach.

The force and unexpectedness of it all has Din folding and grunting with pain. Raga takes a step back and throws both hands in the air with a gleeful cackle.

Dez laughs and applauds.

Davarax clenches his jaw and stalks forward. He gets there just in time as the furious Din gets up on his feet and is about to dive at Raga. Grabbing Din by the back of his shirt and holding him back, Davarax points a finger at Raga. “Ten laps around the property. Now.”

Raga huffs with offence. “What? Why?!”

“That was an actual punch and this is not an actual fight, Raga. You know the rules.” Davarax keeps his gaze steadily locked with hers. “Go.”

She lets out a frustrated hiss but sets off to do her laps. Din tries to follow her, still dead-set on payback, but Davarax yanks him back and then shoves him over at Corin and Paz. “Din, no. This ends here.” After that, he stalks over to Dez, who is glaring at him.

“Punishing your student for winning a fight?” Dez scoffs. “And you call yourself a Mandalorian?”

“They know the rules during training and they know the consequences if they break them.” Davarax will not let Dez turn his kids against each other. He does NOT get to ruin what it has taken years to build. “And as you lit the fuse, I really should make you run those laps with her.”

Dez’ eyes narrow and flash with anger. “I don’t take orders from you.”

When Dez’ fist comes at him, Davarax smacks it aside and delivers a lightning-quick punch of his own. As Dez stumbles back a step and cups his now bleeding nose, Davarax lets out a strained exhale to control his own temper. “I warned you.” He turns towards the nervous gathering of youngsters. “No more fights. We’re done. Separate corners everyone. Understood?”

“Understood.” Their voices echo back.

Davarax feels Dez’ scowl on him and turns back to face him again. “Understood?”

“Understood.” Dez snarls, but the fire in his eyes tells Davarax the fight between them is far from over.

“I don’t think I can do it.” Davarax admits that evening, hating to accept defeat but struggling to see any way he can get through to Dez. Not in a couple of weeks. This could take decades. Anything he says, Dez turns it into some kind of insult. Anything he does, Dez turns it into Davarax patronizing him. “I thought I could, but…”

Dulcy hands him his cup before settling on the sofa with her legs curled up under her and her hip against his. It’s a rare quiet moment with just the two of them there. “But?”

“He hates me.” Davarax shakes his head. “Maybe he’s right to. I don’t know. All these years and I never picked up on him struggling. I just thought he was a jerk. I should have done something, instead I just avoided him like a coward.” He gives a faint gesture with his free hand. “And now that I want to help, he won’t let me and I don’t blame him.”

Dulcy leans her forehead to his shoulder and hums. “The fact that you think like this is a big part of why I love you so much, you big lug.” She then kisses his shoulder and straightens to look at Davarax’ face. “You’re completely wrong, obviously, but I love you for thinking that. It just proves that you are a good man.”

“And I love you for trying to make me feel better by saying that. You’re completely wrong, obviously, but I love you for it.” Davarax counters with a faint smile and a soft kiss on her lips.

Dulcy leans in for a second kiss. “I’m never wrong when it comes to you.” She settles next to him again. “And I wasn’t wrong when I said you two need to talk it out. His issues are not your fault, but if you want to help him, you need to get him talking.”

There is a moment of silence before Davarax quietly blurts out something he’d meant to keep a secret. “He was crying.”

“What?” Dulcy sits up, startled, and stares wide eyed at him. “When? Why?”

Squirming, feeling guilty for telling, Davarax clears his throat. “After the fight in the town. He yelled at Paz and I was going to yell at him and… he was crying.” He shakes his head, still struggling to believe what he’d seen was real. “I’ve never seen him cry before. Never. I didn’t even think he was capable of being sad. Anyway, he wouldn’t tell me why he was so upset so I asked Paz about the yelling and he said Dez got angry because he called him buir. Paz thinks Dez found it childish, but I don’t think so.”

“No…” Dulcy mumbles, all pained empathy. “No, that wasn’t anger.” She bites her lower lip and shifts her gaze over in the general direction of Dez and Neleem’s room. “He doesn’t hate you. Neleem told me so. We just need to find some way to crack that cold, unfeeling act of his.”

Davarax sips at his cup. “I’m open for suggestions. After I punched him in the face, I can’t get near him. If I walk into a room, he’s leaving within ten to fifteen seconds. Aside from rolling him up in a blanket like an angry loth cat, I don’t see how I can prevent him from running away.”

“What if…” Dulcy purses her lips a little as she thinks. “What if you suddenly need a little help with some repairs on the shed? We know he’s good at repairing houses and such.”

Frowning, Davarax looks over at her. “How on Mandalore are you going to get him to agree to that?”

Dulcy grins.

Dez sits on the bed, uncharacteristically passive, while Neleem gingerly peels off the bacta bandage from his stomach. There are no signs of blood on the white patch and she brushes her fingertips over his skin where there is now only a faint scar.

“How does it feel?” She asks.

Honestly? Good. Dez is more than capable of taking care of his own wounds. He doesn’t need help taking off a bacta patch or a check up on the healing progress, but there is something about her gentle touch that just makes him feel calm and pliant. “It’s fine.” Dez mumbles.

How pathetic is it that he’s hoarding every touch and every smile she’s willing to send his way before he’ll have to go back to the Covert alone?

“That’s good.” Neleem says, sounding pleased and a bit relieved. She then runs her hand through his hair, as if giving him a reward for having a body that heals as it is meant to, and even smiles as a little at Dez catching himself leaning into her touch and the following frown on his face.

“But maybe you should rest a little more.” Neleem adds, her fingers touching his chin. “Just to be safe?”

Dez scoffs. “I don’t need more rest. I feel fine.” He’s no weakling. “The wound is healed.”

Neleem hums. “So you could handle a little… physical strain?”

Instantly intrigued by the tone of her voice and the choice of words, Dez goes from annoyed to alert within a single heart-beat. “Yeah. Definitely.” He is further encouraged by the smile on her lips at his reply. Dez reaches out and takes a light hold of her hip, encouraging Neleem closer. “I wouldn’t mind working up a sweat.”

“Is that so?” Neleem mumbles with a smug grin, indulging him by moving closer. She trails a promising caress along his jawline. “Are you sure? Because I don’t want you to tear up your wound again.”

Dez shakes his head eagerly. “It’s fine. I swear. That bacta took care of it. I’m perfectly capable of some… physical strain.”

“That’s good.” Neleem purrs, leaning down to give him a soft kiss, before she pats his shoulder and straightens back up, all business. “Because Davarax needs help with the roof of that shed and I said I’d ask you to help out if your wound was healed. You are good with roofs, I saw that myself. You will help him won’t you?”

Dez stares at her with utter disbelief.

Neleem smiles back at him.

Dez scowls. “You tricked me.” He has blamed his wound bothering him every time he’s retreated to their room to escape Davarax and now he can’t use that excuse.

“You mean you can’t fix the shed?” Neleem asks, tilting her head in such an innocent manner it screams shameless guilt.

Of course Dez Vizla can fix a damn shed! He just doesn’t want to. Not if Davarax is going to be there. “I can, but-”

“Excellent.” Neleem cuts him off. “Davarax is waiting outside. I’ll tell him you’ll be right out.”

Ten minutes later, a seething Dez finds himself stalking outside, where Davarax is leaning against the wall with arms crossed and appears to be half asleep. “Don’t talk to me.” Dez growls as he marches by him. “I’ll fix the shed, you shut up and stay out of my way.”

Sighing, Davarax follows him without a word.

It doesn’t take much of an inspection of the shed for Dez’ suspicions to be confirmed; Davarax is far from as hopeless with repairs and buildings as Dulcy and Neleem has made him out to be. Of course. Gods forbid the man be bad at something. He’s not as good as Dez, few are, but he’d be perfectly capable of fixing the roof on Neleem’s school and he’s more than able to put together a stupid shed. This reeks of bad plotting.

Dez jumps down from the roof of the shed and lands next to the obediently quiet Davarax. Wiping his hands on his hips, Dez shakes his head. “This is stupid. You don’t need any help with this. I’m going back to my room.”

“Wait.” Davarax blurts out.

“No.” Dez flings out a hand, almost shoving his palm into Davarax’ stupid face. He does not want to hear a single stupid word from his stupid mouth. “Shut up.” But to his surprise, Davarax grabs his wrist and yanks his hand down.

“Stop acting like a bratty man-child.” Davarax snaps. As if Dez is the problem.

Dez blinks. Then he flies at Davarax with every intention of beating him to a bloody pulp.

“Get off me!” Dez shouts, lying on his stomach, struggling to free himself and so furious he’s barely able to form words. “GET OFF ME!”

“No.” Davarax grits out, putting all of his weight forward to dig his knees deeper into Dez’ lower back and holds Dez’ right arm twisted behind said back. He sounds pretty angry too, which is probably due to the hits Dez had managed to land on his ribs and his jaw. Good.

Dez draws a deep breath, about to launch into an alphabetical list of physical harm he’s going to do to Davarax if he doesn’t let him go, but that is when the obnoxious man has the audacity to use his other hand to grab Dez’ neck, push his head down, pressing his cheek against the too dry grass, and forces him still.

“Stop trying to punch me, you idiot.” Davarax orders. As if he is allowed to order Dez Vizla around.

“How about I shoot you instead?” Dez spits.

Davarax lets out a frustrated shout that sounds like music to Dez’ ears. “Why?”

Dez snorts in utter disbelief before he bellows out; “You stole my son!”

That brings several long seconds of silence, where neither man move and the words just hover uncomfortably in the air until Davarax is the one to speak first.

“I didn’t steal him, Dez.” His words are quiet and his grip on Dez’ neck softens. “You drove him away.” His fingers move to simply rest on Dez’ skin, like a comforting touch. “And you know that.”

This time when Dez bucks, Davarax shifts off him and slides over to sit next to him while he scrambles up into a sitting position as well. Breathing strained, Dez has to clench his hands to keep himself from punching him again. “I was trying to keep him alive! He was my boy and I wasn’t going to bury him like so many other Mandalorian parents. Not my son. I made him strong.”

“You were pushing him too hard.” Davarax says, in a disgustingly kind tone. “He was a child.”

Dez gets up on his feet, still breathing hard and now also shaking. “In this Galaxy, children die all the time if they aren’t strong enough.” He wipes the back of his hand over his cheek, brushing away imaginary grass. “My father pushed me worse. You remember. I never hurt Paz like that.”

Davarax’ eyes flicker away for a second, as if he’s feeling guilty, then he glances back up at Dez. “I remember.” He clears his throat. “But you were too hard on him. Paz grew up thinking you didn’t love him. That he was a disappointment to you. He needed someone to care.”

Dez’ entire body goes cold. “Why would he think that?” It doesn’t make sense.

“All he ever heard from the infamous Dez Vizla was that he needed to do better. He was never good enough. A kid needs to hear...” Davarax hesitates. “Didn’t your father tell you he loved you?”

“No.” Dez can’t picture Borr saying anything remotely as sentimental as that. He was not the kind of man who loved anything but a good battle. “But I think you’ve been spending too much time with Dulcy. It’s just words. She might love to talk, but we Mandalorians don’t need words.”

Davarax studies him for a moment. “I think we need to get better with them. Both Dulcy and Neleem keeps saying it; words have power. And I agree. They do. Even a simple word like buir.”

Dez feels the word like an elbow to the face and at this moment, he really does hate Davarax. “I should have let that guy shoot you. I won’t make that mistake again.” Stalking away, Dez’ heart is beating so loud and so fast that it basically drowns out Davarax calling out his name.

Even after he’s back in the safety of his room, Dez is unable to calm down. He paces the floor and grits his teeth like an agitated barghest. A headache is threatening to settle in and that doesn’t improve his mood further.

Paz thinking he doesn’t love him? How is that possible? HOW? He had been tough on the boy, yeah, but never cruel like Borr was. Dez knows his parenting hasn’t been flawless, but he had never been cruel, dammit! ...Had he?

The door to the room slides open and Dez spins around, ready to draw his blaster and actually shoot at Davarax if the man is stupid enough to follow him in here.

It’s Neleem. And she doesn’t look pleased. Probably regretting ever getting involved with him.

Exhaling, Dez turns away. “He started it.”

“I doubt that.” Neleem mutters and walks over to stand behind him. “Talk to me, Dez. You’ve been wound up from the moment we got to the Covert and ever since we arrived here, you’ve been downright angry. What’s bothering you?”

Talk, talk, talk… What is it with these people and their talking? Dez grunts annoyed. “Nothing.”

“It’s clearly something.” Neleem insists, placing her hand on his arm. “Why won’t you let me help you?”

“Because it’s pointless.” Dez grits out, staring at the floor. His headache is growing worse.

“Pointless?” Neleem sounds puzzled, as if she doesn’t realize that he already knows that he’ll be going back to the Covert alone. And maybe that’s a good thing? Dez should be alone.

His son had actually believed that Dez didn’t love him, Liita deserves better than to trade her lonely life on the red planet for a lonely life with him, Neleem doesn’t want to live underground while Dez has no choice, and Davarax wins at life, these are just facts. No amount of talk will change that.

“Yeah. Pointless.” Dez confirms He puts on his most arrogant tone. He is a Vizla, he doesn’t need anyone. Not her. Not Paz. No one. It’s better to end it now. “It’s not your problem.”

“How is you acting like a goon not my problem?” Neleem fires back with sharp words.

“Because you are going to leave me too!” Dez shouts in a mess of anger and hurt, and he spins around to face her.

That’s a mistake. A huge mistake. Turning around means seeing the startled surprise on her beautiful face and be reminded of just how much he’d grown to adore that face of hers. Dez could draw every single marking she has on her skin by memory alone. He knows the taste of the skin under her jawline and how she will make this cutest little snort if she breaks into a proper belly-laugh. He knows how soft her lekkus are and how strong her will can be. He knows her calm. He knows his heart will never recover from losing her.

“Dez, I…” Neleem stutters.

Dez closes his eyes. His mother died when he was too young to remember her. His father got a fever and disappeared during a dark night. Cedia went to war and never came back. Pre lost his mind and didn’t come back either. Skade didn’t bother telling him she was going to leave and ended their marriage with a holo-message. Paz, his only child, also disappeared without warning and left behind nothing but a holo-message telling Dez he’d gone with Davarax and Dulcy. Everyone always leave Dez Vizla. In the end, they all leave. Always.

“Dez.” Neleem sounds close to pleading. “Dez, look at me.”

Dez shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m too tired to play games today.” He’s tired of trying and failing all the time. He’s tired of being angry. He’s tired of hurting. He’s tired of trying to watch over his clan and have them fight him every step of the way. He’s tired of craving peace but never being allowed it.

“Dez.” Neleem’s voice is a little stronger, more determined, but now Dez feels, to his horror, that his tightly shut eyes are burning with incoming tears.

No. No way. He will not appear this pathetically weak in front of her. Dez will shoot himself in the head before he’ll let that happen.

But when he moves to turn away, Neleem grabs a hold of his face with both hands and yanks him back, startling his eyes open, and she stares at him with tears of her own while she gives a faint shake of her head.

“I’m not going to leave you, Dez.”

“You can stay here.” Dez whispers, wanting to turn away but can’t make himself break eye contact with her. “You can stay here with Dulcy and Davarax. Help out with the kids. They’ll be thrilled. I’ll just pack my stuff and head back to the Covert. Look after Liita for me?”

“You’re not listening, Dez.” Neleem says, running her thumbs along his cheekbones and smiling a little through her sadness. “You’re stuck with me, buddy.”

She can’t mean that. She can’t. But… Oh, his heart aches.

Wanting to believe but seeing no reason why she’d want to put up with more of his shitty behaviour, Dez leans forward and cautiously seeks her lips with his. Her soft warmth is endlessly sweet and feels so very soothing and so he lets the one gentle kiss turn into two and soon three.

The anger and dread goes away when Neleem leans against him and his arms goes around her. It ignites some kind of hopeless, fragile need for more. he needs to get closer. As close as he can get.

And to his soul-crushing relief; she welcomes him.

Neleem pushes her head back into the pillow and tries to breathe as her eyes flutter close while Dez’ mouth works its way down her throat. Her entire body feels like liquid fire. A heavy, drugging heat, different from the kind of heedless heat they usually experience during intimate moments like these.

There is no rush, this is slow, unhurried and lingering. Carnal pleasure seems almost like an afterthought to him as he barely moves on top of her, there is only the occasional roll of his hips that has him let out a trembling sigh and her muscles quake with longing, as Dez is entirely focused on covering her skin with soft kisses and caresses to an almost obsessive degree.

He spends a small eternity just mapping his way from her left shoulder to her right. He mouths at her shoulders, measures the roundness of her hips in his palms, nuzzles her neck and kisses her forehead before placing his own against it. He barely allows air between them.

There is so much affection in the softness of his lips and his touch, it brings tears back to her eyes.

Neleem had once overheard a couple of human girls talk about ‘making love’ and once she’d discovered what the term meant, she found it a bit hilarious and overly romanticized. Now, Neleem realizes, ‘this’ is what they meant. She never knew it could be like this. She had no idea.

Dez’ fingers braid with hers and he gives them a light squeeze as he slides his lips up her throat until he reaches her chin and she stops pushing into the pillow to lower her face and meet him a warm kiss. He doesn’t deepen it, just savours the push and give of their lips together, how they match to perfection, how every sensitive nerve between them is glowing with soft delight.

He has to release one of her hands when Dez decides he has to trail fingertips along her jawline, constantly planting soft little kisses on her lips, and Neleem absently runs her free hand down his back. The soft warmth of his skin makes every single one of his many scars seem like a crime. She wants to wrap herself around him and never let anyone hurt him again.

She lifts her hand to slide it up his neck and into that glorious mess of curls, pushing him into a couple of firmer kisses before leaning back into the pillow again and making him open his eyes to look into hers. He looks dazed, a bit drunk like her, but also still a little tense, as if he can’t quite trust that she doesn’t want their relationship to end. He looks like he thinks he’s on borrowed time.

Running her hand through his hair a couple of times, a soothing touch, she then cups the side of his face and states the obvious; “I love you.” This beautiful, stubborn, difficult, damaged and surprisingly kind human.

Dez stares like she’d just stabbed him. He’s gone completely still. He’s barely breathing.

Neleem lets him process the words while she is the one to explore his facial features with her fingertips.

“Say it again.” Dez says after a long silence.

Smiling a little, Neleem has no trouble obliging. She cups the side of his face again. “I love you.”

Being so close, she can feel the shudder running through his body.

“Again.” Dez whispers.

Now outright grinning, Neleem obliges once more. “I love you.”

Exhaling, Dez ducks down to plant a kiss between her neck and shoulder. “Again. Say it again.”

“I love you.”

His arms go around her and he squeezes her tight, as if he never wants to let her go. “Again.”

He sounds like he’s in pain. Neleem’s heart aches. “I love you.”

He moves up to kiss her lips with a taste of being lost. “Again.” Dez pleads against her mouth.

Neleem doesn’t hesitate. “I love you.” She says and feels his hand trail fingers by her temple. “I love you, Dez.”

Breathing something in what she can only guess is Mando’a and can’t understand, Dez kisses her again. Her mouth, her neck, her lekku, her hand, he can’t stop kissing her. And he keeps asking; “Say it again?”

Eventually he doesn’t even need to ask, Neleem continues to repeat the words. She runs her hands over his skin, draws her fingers through his hair, moves under him until he can’t resist and it all becomes a sweaty haze of raw emotion and growing need. “I love you.” Neleem breathes, eyes closed and fingers digging into his skin as he clings to her. “I love you.”

The silence in the room is almost deafening after the chaos that had been screaming in his head not too long ago. Dez is half-sitting in bed, propped up by pillows, and has his arm around Neleem, who is curled up against him, resting her head on his stomach and brushing light caresses on his hip with her thumb.

She loves him.

Her voice is still echoing in his head. Those words… Dangerous words. Addictive words. No one has ever told him they love him before. Not in actual words.

He’d come to accept that he wasn’t a person others loved. He thought Skade did, he was young and naive then, but she didn’t. No one did. No one but his son. Until he lost him, that is. Wasn’t that proof that Dez Vizla was unlovable?

‘I love you’.

Words have power, Neleem had said that once. And now Beskar Boy too. Dez has always been told words are for weaklings. Vizlas act, they don’t talk.

Leaning back, thumping his head lightly against the headboard, once, twice, Dez exhales. He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to be better, but he keeps messing up. His stomach starts to burn and ache, bringing a wave of nausea too.

“You okay?” Neleem asks, looking up at him.

Dez meets her gaze and her words flutter through his brain. It makes his heart do a weird flip in his chest. He wants to hear her say those words again. He wants to die for her. “I love you too.”

Neleem’s beautiful face lights up and she leans up to give him a soft kiss.

Once again the tension and unease fades away when she’s close and when she returns to resting against him, Dez leans back again and with a clear mind, thinks about his future.

He can’t have everything he wants. That’s just not possible. He’s going to have to choose.

The very next day, Dez Vizla decides to first do the thing he least wants to do. It takes all of his will-power and he fears he might regret it, but he forces himself to do it anyway.

“I…” Dez has to try again. “I’m sorry. About yesterday.”

Davarax is half-hidden behind the shed, working on something there, and stares at Dez like he has grown a second head over night. There is an almost impressive bruise blooming on his jaw. “What?”

“I said,” Dez says, “I’m sorry about yesterday.”

There is a moment of hesitation and then Davarax steps forward to fully face him. “That’s...what I thought you said.” He looks like he can’t decide whether to be scared or curious. “What’s going on?”

Dez shrugs, looks away and then rolls his shoulder a little awkwardly. “I’m apologizing, you idiot.”

“Yeah, I can hear that.” Davarax replies, snorting a laugh. “I thought you said apologies were pointless?”

He should have known Davarax wouldn’t make this easy for him. That man always has to rub Dez’ nose into everything unpleasant. “Forget it.” Dez growls and turns to leave.

“Wait.” Davarax runs over and gets in his way, preventing him from leaving. “Wait-wait-wait.”

Dez sighs and settles to wait for whatever he wants to say.

“Nice to hear you’re the one sighing for once.” Davarax grins, as if his words make any sense. Then he reaches out a hand. “Apology accepted, vod.”

It can’t be this easy. It can’t. Still, Dez sees little choice but to take his hands and shake it. He only realizes he’s entered a trap when Davarax doesn’t let go. And the grin on his face is pure evil.

“I told you we were going to become friends, didn’t I?” Davarax says with utter glee.

Dez glares. “I said nothing about becoming friends.” He tries to tug his hand free. “Let go.”

In all fairness, Davarax does let go, but only after he’s yanked Dez forward and engulfs him in an embrace instead.

Dez snarls and starts squirming and pushing at him. “What do you think you’re doing? Let go of me, you-”

“I’m sorry too.” Davarax whispers.

Dez freezes. What does he have to be sorry for?

“I didn’t realize those injuries came from your father.” Davarax confesses. “I didn’t realize Pre was making your life miserable too. And I failed entirely to see how much you needed a friend.”

Dez swallows. His stomach rolls uneasily. “Calm your saviour complex. I outlived my father and Pre both, didn’t I? A-and it wasn’t like I didn’t have any friends, you weirdo.” So what if they were Vizlas and obliged to be on good terms with him? “Besides, that was ages ago. I don’t even think about it any more. You shouldn’t either.”

Davarax’ embrace tightens a bit and Dez is about to start fighting anew to be released when the man speaks again.

“If it’s okay,” Davarax’ voice is low, strangely uncertain, “I’d like to help you reconnect with Paz.”

-I don’t need you karking help! Dez’ pride sneers. But the sad fact is, even with Liita and Neleem to help him, Dez still manages to mess things up. He has to face that he needs all the help he can get. Why not let Beskar Boy do some good for him for once. Dez clears his throat. “That would be… Yeah… Thanks.” The things he will do, the depths he will sink to, for his son.

Bizarrely enough, this makes Davarax do that weird laughter-huff of his and he really curls around him in an engulfing hug, like Dez is his best friend that he hasn’t seen in years. It’s warm, comforting and kind of… nice.

Dez nearly rolls his eyes, of course even Davarax’ hugs are as ‘perfect’ as the man himself, but he can’t quite get himself to break free. It’s too tempting to give in. Maybe just a little. Dez can count on one hand the hugs he’s gotten in his life, not including the ones Paz had happily handed out during his youngest years. Besides, it’s not like anyone will know. So Dez relaxes a little and lifts a hand to put it on Davarax’ back.

“Do you two need some privacy, or…?”

Dez’ gaze snaps over and sees Raga watching them with her arms crossed and a huge grin on her face. Behind her, Paz is all slack-jawed disbelief.

Instantly shoving and cursing at Davarax, Dez frees himself and flees towards the house.

“You call that welding?” Liita scoffs. The sun is setting but neither are willing to stop working.

“There is nothing wrong with my welding.” Dez replies with calm confidence. The bratty girl is never satisfied with any welding she doesn’t do herself, but this is his ship, dank farrik, and if he wants to work on it as well, he can. He is currently fusing two outer panels by the ship’s nose, which is important work that needed to be done and not him hiding from Davarax at all, and Liita will just have to deal.

“It’s cold.” Liita complains.

“I told you to bring a jacket.” Dez reminds her, focused on his welding.

“How was I supposed to know you were right?” Liita huffs. “Most of the things you say are wrong.”

Dez sends her a sour glare. “I’m almost always right. And if you had listened to me, you wouldn’t be freezing right now, would you? You’ve only got yourself to blame, kid.”

“You got this one thing right. Let’s not have it go to your head.” Liita mutters, stepping in front of him. “I’m cold!”

Dez turns his attention back to the welding. “So what do you want me to do about it? Summon a sun? I’m flattered that you think I have such abilities, but I’m just a humble Mandalorian.”

Liita rolls her eyes with a frustrated huff and promptly tugs the zipper on his jacket halfway down. She then, with complete lack of the expected fear and awe one should have for Dez Vizla, ducks down, wiggles her way up under his jacket and eventually ends up standing with her back to his stomach and her sullen face poking out from his jacket to continue observing his work.

“You seriously don’t know how to weld a friction seam.” Liita mutters.

Dez carries on welding. “Shut up. My welding is fine.”

Liita does not shut up. She keeps nitpicking. And he keeps giving her orders she bluntly ignores.

It’s the nicest and most relaxing evening Dez has had in a long while.

“Dez.” Davarax’ voice shatters Dez’ tranquillity.

Closing his eyes, taking a deep breath, Dez needs a moment before he turns off the welder and prepares to face Beskar Boy again. He turns and a sour comment dies on his lips when he sees Davarax is not alone.

Paz is standing next to him.

“Paz.” Dez says, stupidly, and feels a flare of anger at himself for sounding so stupid, especially as his son responds with a faint nod and a puzzled look.

Luckily stupid is what Davarax does best and he does that stupid laughter-huff of his and beams with badly hidden amusement. “Hi, Liita.”

“Hey.” She grumps from where she’s peering out of Dez’ jacket.

Oh.

Grinning, clearly finding the scene hilarious, Davarax nods in Paz’ direction. “Mind if we borrow Dez for a bit? Paz needs a word with him.”

Liita sighs, then ducks down and wiggles out of Dez’ jacket to wander forward to face Davarax. She looks up at him with a stern look. “Okay, let’s go back to the house.”

Davarax hesitates, glancing briefly over at Paz. “I, uh… I was thinking maybe I should… stay?”

Of course. Dez feels a spark of anger in his gut and his shoulders tenses up. He gets why, he’s messed up so many times that he should probably be happy that Beskar Boy can supervise, but...

“No.” Liita reaches out, puts her hands against Davarax’ stomach and forces him to start backing up. “Dez got this. Let’s go.”

The anger is knocked right out of Dez at her words. That girl...

Still backing up, Davarax looks over at Paz again, sees him nod and nods back before he shifts to walk next to Liita instead of being pushed along.

“I’m cold.” Liita declares. “Give me your jacket.”

Davarax gives her his jacket. (Of course he does.)

There is an awkward silence after Liita and Davarax’ departure but eventually Dez puts the cooling machine on the ground, no more welding tonight, and he brushes his hands together in what he’d die before admitting is a nervous move. “So, uh… What did Davarax tell you?”

Paz doesn’t look as scared as before, but his walls are up and he’s eyeing Dez cautiously. “He said… you wanted to apologize for yelling on the ship. That you weren’t mad at me.”

Dez shifts his weight and clears his throat. “I… I’m guessing you’re getting really tired of hearing me apologizing after messing up all the time, huh?”

Paz looks down at the ground and doesn’t reply. He clearly doesn’t know what to say. Either he really is sick of Dez’ apologies or he’s worried what will happen if he admits Dez had messed up.

Dez takes a step closer to his son, reaching out and almost touching his arm before catching himself and lowering his hand again. “Listen, on the ship, that was me being stupid again. Not you. Never you.” Words have power, he reminds himself. “You know I’m proud of you, right?”

Paz’ gaze snaps up to meet his. He looks shocked, so clearly this is news to him.

Dez’ stomach churns and pained guilt floods his veins. “I am. I’ve always been.” He tries to smile and fails. “Remember I told you that your mother made me happy by giving me you? You’ve always been the one good thing in my life. Possibly the only good thing in my life.”

Paz draws a shivering breath and despite the years that have gone by, he suddenly looks like the lost little boy Dez remembers.

“I’m so sorry for the way I treated you.” Dez whispers with pained intensity. “I’m so sorry. I know it doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t excuse me in any way, but I thought it was the best way to make you strong, to keep you alive in a Galaxy that kills everything it can. I was wrong. I should have told you, I should have explained, I should have… done better. I was cruel to you. I’m sorry. You don’t have to say anything, I just wanted to say I know I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

Paz swallows hard and looks away. “I…”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Dez reassures him, and now his stomach aches so much it feels like he’s been stabbed all over again. He walks away, heading back to the house, aiming to give Paz some space and prevent himself from embarrassing himself even more.

“Can I…” Paz’ voice calls out after him. “Can I still call you buir?”

Freezing in his tracks, Dez blinks frantically to clear his eyes off the karking burning sensation again(!) before he can look back at his son. He actually manages to smile this time, feels light-headed with relief. “It would be an honour to me if you did.”

Paz exhales and smiles as well, and in three long strides he’s over by his father and folds into his embrace.

Hugging him tight, Dez doesn’t care that Paz is taller than him by now, every bit as muscular as himself if not more, he’ll always be his baby boy.

He’s not Dez. He’s not Pre. He’s not Borr or Tor or any other Vizla. He’s Paz and he’s perfect.

The mood in the house seems to change after that. It’s like everyone dares to relax, to laugh and go about their business without keeping a cautious eye on Dez. Paz even seeks him out for company and with him comes Raga, who is just an utter delight with her strength and rebellious nature. The Saxons are all amazing. Dez has always found the Saxons great fun to be around.

Then there is Corin, who has always been friendly, but now he starts asking Dez endless odd questions and stares non-stop at him when he thinks Dez won’t notice. He looks more at Dez than his own boyfriend. It’s awkward until Dulcy reluctantly tells Dez of the monster that was Corin’s biological father and Dez tenses up when he hears about a temper similar to his own, but it certainly explains why Corin is mesmerized; Macero Valentis would rather have died than apologize to his son or changed a single thing about his own behaviour. It’s weak of Dez, but after that he answers his every question and lets him stare.

Two who still do not approve of Dez are Din and Zev’sonya. Din shows Dez wary suspicion and she gives him rude indifference. But they are kids and are not worthy of Dez’ time, so he more or less ignores them.

The one who surprises Dez is Mose. Again. He hasn’t spent much time with him before, but once Dez does, he discovers that the Hutt is certainly nothing like he thought he’d be. He hasn’t forgotten that Mose saved Paz’ life during the Imp attack, putting him on his good side, but discovering that the Hutt is first in line to look after Davarax and Dulcy’s girl is most unexpected.

“I would have thought you’d be more interested in eating her.” Dez comments with a wry smile as he watches Mose wipe Nemi’s messy hands clean with a rag. “Hutts don’t babysit kids.”

“Know many Hutts, do you?” Mose mumbles with a touch of defiance.

Raising his eyebrows, Dez snorts a laugh. “You got me there.” He tilts his head and studies the gentle movements as Mose cleans the girl’s tiny hands with his huge ones. “But I think you’re a bit different from the rest, aren’t you?”

Mose frowns just a little. “So? It’s not wrong. Just because everyone expect you to be something, it doesn’t mean you have to become it.”

That brings another laugh from Dez. All of his worries and heavy thoughts haunting him day and night, and a Hutt puts things into the simplest way possible and gives him the answer he’s been searching for. “Mose,” Dez moves over and pats his shoulder, “don’t change, my friend. You’re more honourable and more clever than most humans I’ve met.” He can feel the stunned Hutt watching him as he walks away.

That evening, Dulcy has put together a feast, clearly influenced by the lighter mood in the house and eager to gather even more smiles. Dez doesn’t mind. He thinks it’s silly to put so much effort into something that isn’t a big deal, but he’s happy to join in and devour good food. It’s almost worth having to sit next to Davarax and listen to his voice. He even allows Davarax’ hand to linger on his shoulder while he goes on about some project he wants Dez’ opinion on.

Suddenly a shadow falls over them and he looks up to see Dulcy hovering in front of the table, biting her lower lip and radiating delight.

“What?” Dez asks through a mouthful, wary of this scheming mastermind.

“I’m just…” Dulcy gestures towards them. “I mean, Dav has me and the kids and it’s all good, but… he must have missed having a grown Mandalorian friend to hang out with.”

Dez blinks. Then he reaches up to gingerly peel Davarax’ hand off his shoulder. “No. No-no-no. No, we?” A quick pointing back and forth between him and Davarax. “We are not friends.”

Davarax grins. His arm goes around Dez’ shoulders and he yanks him close to squeeze him tight. “We are best friends.”

“Let go of me, you clown.” Dez snarls, trying to break free and failing. The man is freakishly strong. And why are his arms so long. He’s like a squid. A freakishly strong squid. “Let go!”

“No way, buddy.”

“LET GO!”

Dulcy giggles

Neleem giggles.

Pas and the others merely stare with disbelief.

It’s late, usually Dez is asleep at this hour, when they crawl into bed and Neleem wiggles close to him with a happy sigh. She pets his stomach with a cheerful hum. “How is this doing?”

“Growing, due to the rate I’m fed here and how lazy I’m getting.” Dez replies. It’s probably true.

Neleem snorts. “Relax, Vizla, you are just as slim and buff as always. And I’m being serious. Don’t make me get the medical scanner.”

Groaning, Dez flips her over on her side and slides close to her back, wrapping an arm tight around her waist to hold her there and to prevent her from getting the scanner. “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s just a gut ache. It’s no big deal.” He can feel her draw a sharp breath to object and cuts her off. “I feel better than I have in ages, cyar’ika. Relax.”

“I’d relax if you’d let me scan you.” Neleem declares, squirming and pushing at his arm to free herself. “I swear, Dez, if you’re feeling worse and hiding it from me, I will-”

“I’m not hiding anything from you. I give you my word.” Dez has to give up holding her in place, she is determined to free herself, and flops over on his back again as she turns and crawls halfway on top of him, glaring. “For the love of… it’s just a gut ache.”

“That ‘gut ache’?” Neleem jabs a finger in his stomach, making him flinch and grunt. “It could actually kill you. Do you understand? It will continue to make you sick, poison you from the inside and then, in agonizing pain, you will die.”

Dez smiles, just a tiny smile, a smile far softer than most that grace his face, and he shakes his head while reaching out to trail a gentle finger down one of her lekkus. “I’m not going to die.” He moves his touch to her lips. “Why would I die when I finally have reasons to stay alive?”

“I need you to take this seriously.” Neleem’s voice tremble. “Please. If you keep going like this, it will kill you.”

Maybe Dez should find it insulting that she seems to think him weak, that she thinks she can order him around, but he doesn’t. She’s worried. And all he cares about right now is easing her worries.

Dez tells her his plans.

Neleem’s face is a mixture of cautious hope and, surprisingly, a little regret. “Are you sure…?”

“I am.” Thanks to Mose. “I’ve been thinking about it for a very, very long time. I’m sure.”

The next day he tells the others when they are gathered for breakfast in the kitchen. Paz looks like he’s about to faint, Dulcy gets so startled that she has to sit down and Davarax so shocked that he has to stand up.

Dez feels Neleem, sitting next to him, finding his hand under the table and squeezing it. He is a little puzzled as to why she does it, but it’s appreciated nonetheless. She seems more nervous about his decision than he is. Truth be told, he’s just ready to get it over with. “I’ll travel back to the Covert today.”

“You are really going to go back like… that?” Paz asks.

Dez nods. He’s not wearing his helmet or his armour. He’s dressed like any other traveller.

“I’ll come with you.” Davarax says, adding more shock to the situation.

Not expecting that, Dez frowns. “They may not let you in.”

“They will if you tell them to.” Davarax says, trying to smile and not entirely succeeding. A sore point, then. Beskar Boy, always the popular one, it must hurt for him to know he’s not welcome.

“I’ll be an outcast too the second they see me. Why do you think they’ll listen to anything I say?” Dez mutters.

“Because they like me,” Davarax replies, “but they respect you.”

They respect Davarax fine. They always have. But there is the chance that his defeat and absence these years may have weakened his grip on their hearts and minds. Still Dez isn’t keen on the idea. “Why would you want to come with me?”

“If your grand plan of bringing as many as possible out from underground is to work, well…” Now Davarax manages to smile and his eyes glitter with amusement. “They respect you, as I said, but they really like me.”

“You’ll be going against your sister.”

“No. I’ll just be helping to move out the ones who are already unhappy and giving her trouble.”

“I’ll come too.” Paz declares in a rush.

“Me as well.” Raga shoots in.

“And me!” Corin blurts out. Din glares at him.

Dulcy waves her hand and quiets them all. She then exhales a long breath before she focuses on the stunned Dez. “It certainly looks like you won’t be going alone, Dez Vizla.”

All his life, Dez has been reminded of the fact that he is a Vizla. All his life he was expected to be the strongest, the fiercest and an undisputed leader, and all of his life he’s tried to live up to that. He raised his son to think like that too. The Vizla blood runs thick in their veins.

- Just because everyone expect you to be something, it doesn’t mean you have to become it.

Everyone expected him to lead the clan after Pre died and it had never occurred to Dez to say no. After that, every soul in the clan brought their problems to Dez and it never occurred to him not to care. They were his people and his responsibility.

When the ship lands outside the Covert, Dez feels the first jab of nerves. He has decided and he’s not going to change his mind, but he’s bound to disappoint a lot of his followers with his decision to take off his helmet and leave and Dez hates that. They’ve all been so loyal to him.

Dez steps off the ship, leaving Liita in the cockpit, and he is followed by Davarax, Neleem and Paz. Raga, Corin and Din are ordered to wait in the cargo hold until their return.

As expected, two Mandalorians step forward to defend it when they approach the secret door.

“Step aside.” Dez orders.

The guards jolt with startled surprise as they recognize his voice, they probably scan him to confirm his identity, and Dez feels a flicker of irritation when they numbly step aside to let him in.

So much for security.

But Dez has barely stepped through the door before the guards move to block the entrance again and prevent the others from joining him. Davarax and Paz are both wearing their armour, sans helmet, but they are clearly not welcome any more. Neither is Neleem, who is a plain Outsider now.

“Let them through.” Dez says in his firmest voice. For half a nerve-wrecking second, he wonders if this is pushing it too far and will have the guards turn on him as well, but then, to his surprise, they step aside and let the others through.

“See?” Davarax whispers. “I told you.”

“Shut up.” Dez mutters back.

However, the guards must have used their comm links as there is someone waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.

Dez exhales with relief. It’s Sungodt. His second in command and leader when Dez is not around.

“Dez?” Sungodt says, sounding like he doesn’t want to believe it is true.

“It’s me.” Dez confirms.

“Why?” Sungodt asks. “What happened? How could this happen?”

“Nothing happened.” Dez replies. “I happened. It was my choice.”

Sungodt hesitates. “But… “

“I’m sick of being stuck underground, hiding like a coward. And despite our best efforts; nothing has changed since we left Concordia. It’s time to break free, Sungodt. I want to talk to our people and offer them to join me. We can start over and make our own Covert above ground.”

Sungodt stares at him. “You want to break up this Covert? She won’t allow that.”

Davarax smirks. “I don’t think she’ll mind. She has never kept anyone here against their will.”

“I will talk to her first. Explain. Then I’ll meet with our clan.” Dez declares.

Sungodt hesitates. “They will follow you, you know.”

“I hope so.” Dez admits. Then he pulls his shoulders back and nods. “Okay, let’s go see her.”

It’s time to finally get his people out of the darkness.

Sungodt leads the way, Dez follows, behind him Neleem takes Paz’ hand and offers the nervous youth her support, and then finally Davarax, who keeps their backs safe. They march towards the new forge, ignoring the puzzled looks from fellow Mandalorians, and only have to wait a couple of seconds as Sungodt enters the room and informs their leader of the visitors before he appears in the doorway and nods.

Dez walks inside, hears the footsteps of the others following him, but most of all; feels the weight of the gaze behind that golden helmet. Fire is reflecting in the shiny metal.

She’s watching him, a silent figure behind her work bench, as ominous and omniscient as always. It’s one of the many things Dez has always liked about her.

“I have decided to leave this Covert.” Dez says, as if him not wearing his helmet or his armour isn’t screaming that already. “And I’ve come to ask my clan to leave with me.”

Sungodt raises his blaster and shoots Dez three times in the chest. “Traitor.”

As Dez is flung backwards, Davarax and the golden leader draw their blasters at the same time and fires four lethal shots each at Sungodt.

“DEZ!” Neleem screams as she rushes forward. Paz shouts; “NO!” and bursts forward as well.

Seconds later, Dez lies on the floor, muscles twitching and his mouth spitting blood, while Davarax kneeling by him and yanking Dez’ jacket open to get to his wounds. Paz is frantically bellowing at someone to bring him an emergency kit.

Tears flowing, Neleem touches Dez’ face with trembling fingers. “Stay with me, Dez. You have to stay with me.”

Dez almost smiles, despite the pain and being unable to breathe. She cares. Paz cares. Even Beskar Boy cares. They actually care.

Someone will mourn him. Nobody mourned Borr or Pre.

Dez Vizla was loved.

-Stay with me. She had pled. Neleem had been desperate and helpless as she watched Dez fade, bleeding out in front of her, but she kept pleading. -Stay with me. Please, stay with me. Dez, please.

Words have power, but they can’t heal three shots to the chest. There was nothing she could do but plead and cry while Davarax and Paz tried to stop the bleeding.

Sitting on the porch in front of the house, her feet resting on one of the lower steps of the stairs, Neleem stares emptily ahead at nothing. The neighbourhood is unusually quiet.

Stepping down on the top step of the stairway, Dez slowly eases himself down to sit next to her with a pained grunt escaping his lips. Three days and his torso still hurts. The bacta is speeding up the healing process, like usual, but this time the injuries were far more severe and not even Dez Vizla can ignore his body’s complaints if he tries to move around too much. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

Neleem huffs a laugh. “Asks the guy who got shot. Three times.”

“I’m a Mandalorian. It happens.” Dez says, but when he gets no response, he slides his arm around Neleem’s shoulders and pulls her close. “Hey. I told you; I’ve got no plans on dying now that I finally have reasons to stay alive. No insignificant fool like Sungodt can kill Dez Vizla.”

The betrayal hurt almost as much as the shots, yet he understands why Sungodt did what he did.

Also, a part of Dez wonders if this could be justice catching up and making him pay for all the hurt and misery he’d caused in the past. He’s in pain, but he’s not angry. It feels right.

“But you’re going to go back to the Covert, aren’t you?” Neleem says, finally glancing over at him. “They might actually succeed in killing you next time.”

Dez sighs. “I can’t just leave them there. I agreed to be their leader and they trust me.” He tries a faint smile. “But don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere for a while yet. I feel like crap.”

Neleem nods, still too serious for his liking, and she reaches out a hand to touch his chest where one of the bacta patches hide under his shirt. The incident had startled her badly.

And she’s not the only one still shell-shocked from what had happened.

Davarax has decided it was his fault for not spotting the danger and reacting fast enough to prevent Sungodt from attacking. Paz, the silly boy, claims that, no, it was his fault and that he had failed his father. Raga claims it never would have happened if she had been allowed to go with them.

Dulcy has turned into a complete tip-yip and monitors Dez’ progress with scary intensity. Corin has come by every day to deliver a gift and make sure he’s doing okay, and Din even joined him once to mumble wishes for a quick recovery.

The cutest visit to his sickbed was Mose and Nemi, while the scariest was Barthor just hovering by his bed and staring at him. The thin wire around Dez’ left wrist is evidence that Liita went partway through with her promise and he is now tagged with her tracking device.

Yeah, they all need a break. Dez included.

In the past, he would have thought of this as a show of weakness, but not any more. He sees a lot of things differently these days. (Davarax is still a pain, obnoxiously perfect and a magnet for the love of everyone within ten parsecs, but… he is tolerable if you just manage to disregard that. And don’t get close enough for him to get a hold and start hugging you.)

“Let’s go inside.” Dez mumbles, his lips against Neleem’s temple. “It’s late. You need to rest.”

“Again, coming from the man who was shot three times in the chest.” Neleem mumbles, irrationally stuck on that minor detail.

“Come rest with me then.” Dez drawls with a teasing grin and that finally lures a smile from her.

Neleem shakes her head with an amused expression. “Fine. I guess that is the only way I’ll know you’re actually resting and not up to something stupid.”

“I’m Dez Vizla. Nothing I do is stupid.” Dez grins, kissing her temple.

“You nearly died twice in less than two weeks.” Liita states, appearing from the house and walking over to sit down and burrow in under Dez’ free arm to settle next to him. “That’s pretty stupid in my book. That’s why I’ve tagged your signal in my tracker as ‘Stupidhead’.”

Dez grunts and tightens his grip, squeezing Liita against his side to savour her annoyed sputterings. “If you want me to adopt you, you’re going to have to start being nice to me.”

Liita squirms and shoves at him until he makes a pained sound and they both settle. “I never said you had to adopt me.” She scoffs. Then, after a moment of hesitation, the girl sends him a cautious look. “Why? Are you saying… you want to?”

Neleem rests her head on Dez’ shoulder and gives his arm an encouraging caress.

“If that would be okay with you, Liita.” Dez replies.

“I’ll think about it.” Liita mumbles and turns her face away, but not fast enough so Dez and Neleem can’t see the bright smile she’s desperately fighting against.

“You do that.” Dez says. “In the meanwhile, how about you two help a poor Mando to his feet?”

Neleem and Liita both eagerly help Dez get up, which he could have easily managed on his own but knows how satisfying it is to them when they get to be the strong ones, and the three of them start walking towards the door.

The door slides open and Paz freezes after a single step through it. He sees Neleem and Liita under each of Dez’ arms, appearing to be supporting him and helping him walk. Paz goes deathly pale. “Buir? Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Dez shakes his head with a faint smile. “Nothing to worry about, son.”

Paz takes another step forward and is clearly not reassured. “I can help.”

Gingerly lifting his arms to free Liita and Neleem, Dez is then the one to take a step forward and he reaches out to slide his hand behind Paz’ neck, making him focus on his eyes. “Paz, son, I’m just a little tired and achy, and these two fine souls were easy to trick into helping me. That’s all.”

That has Liita huffing with offence, Neleem roll her eyes and Paz grinning.

Dez will never ever tire of seeing his son smile. He used to smile so much as a toddler, but then came his teenage years and there were no smiles at all. They have so much catching up to do.

Paz easily moves forward when his father gives him a gentle tug and does not hesitate to fold into a warm hug.

So many hugs to catch up on as well. Dez doesn’t care that it is weak to want them, they feel nice. It makes him feel calm. And loved. And so what if his clan turns his back on him? Dez will still have his family and… friends. He’s not alone any more.

“Can anyone join in on that hug or…?” A voice asks with no small amount of amusement.

Dez turns around, startled as he recognizes that voice, and can only stare with mute shock as he sees a helmetless Sobek Saxon stands in front of the stairway leading up to them. Her arms are crossed, there is a wide grin on her face and Sobek radiates relaxed confidence. Behind her stands her husband, their three sons, and at least twenty more Mandalorians. None of which are wearing their helmet, but carries it under their right arm.

“What…?” Dez stutters.

Sobek shrugs one shoulder. “We followed you off Concordia. We’ll follow you above ground and into damnation too. This is our Way.”

Paz glances around, probably scouting for Raga as if she’d be summoned by her family’s presence.

A young Vizla makes his way closer to Sobek and tries to get a peek of Dez, but accidentally bumps into Shezmu Saxon, who grabs him and flings him to the ground and a vicious fight break out. Two Vizlas step forward to try to break it up, but that only causes Shezmu’s two brothers to join in on the fight.

“Now is not the time for this, you idiots!” Arren Kryze shouts, before he has to duck to avoid a punch and that is when mayhem really erupts among the Mandalorians gathered there.

Sobek doesn’t move, still looks up at Dez with arms crossed and a grin on her face.

The door slides open again behind them and Davarax comes charging out, followed by several of his children, but only to come to an abrupt halt next to Dez. He stares with disbelief at the chaos in front of the house. Dulcy clings to his arm and stares as well.

Somewhere, a window is shattered.

“There goes the neighbourhood…” Liita mumbles.

Dez grins. He sneaks one arm around Neleem, who is all eyes, and one arm around Liita, who is scowling at the loud ruffians. He looks over at his son. “This? This is the Way.” Then looks at Neleem. His heart is racing. “Will you walk it with me?”

Neleem studies his face as a smile slowly spreads across her lips. “Yes.”

“As my wife?”

“Yes.”

And amidst the loud chaos of the start of a new Tribe, Dez leans down and kisses her.

“I love you.” Neleem whispers against his lips.

“I love you too.” Dez replies with warm truth. “And, thank you. For saving me.” Without her, he would either have turned into a harsh creature like Borr or died in some random dispute. Without her, he wouldn’t have his son back in his life. Without her, he wouldn’t be a better man.

Dez Vizla has said goodbye to his old self.

Let the future begin.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #what if AU #Dez Vizla #Neleem #Davarax #Dulsissia Motti #Paz Vizsla #Raga Saxon #Corin #Din #Mose the Hutt #small mentionings of the others #the one-shots start coming and they don't stop coming #this is too long to be considered a one-shot but I don't care

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