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mandoalorian · 4 years

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Brown Eyes [Din Djarin x Reader]

!! SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 15, SEASON 2. !!

*Hi. The episode has been out for three hours. The devil works hard but I work harder. I hope you enjoy! xx*

Summary: Din has always wanted to confess his love to you— but with his devotion to the Creed and with the risk of losing you, he wonders if the revelation would really be worth it. Would you even consider being with him if he refused to remove his helmet? When Grogu is taken away from Din and in the fiendish hands of Moff Gideon, Din realises there isn't anything he won't do to get his son back.

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: descriptions of anxiety, *SPOILERS FOR Season 2 Episode 15: The Believer of The Mandalorian*

Word count: 2.6k

Permanent taglist - let me know if you want to be added: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos

Masterlist

gif credit: @siennablake

"Din," you froze up, backing away from the Imperial who was sitting at a table drinking caf. "I- I can't do it."

Din's head snapped to face you, masked by the Imperial Shocktrooper helmet he was doting. "Why not?" His voice was firm, but the tone of his question dripped with concern. You bawled your fingers into a fist as you squeezed your eyes tight shut, beginning to anxiously pace around in circles.

"That's Valen Hess," you muttered, trying your hardest to regulate your nervous breathing. "He- I used to serve under him. I- can't… go in there. Din, he'll recognise me." the thoughts in your head were jumbled. Din placed two hands steady on your shoulders.

"I'll go, hand me the dataspike." Din told you calmly. You felt like putty under his touch. Usually, his firm grip would calm you down and ease any of your troubles away— but not this time. You felt completely nauseated.

Grogu was at stake. When you met the Mandalorian, it took him some time to find the confidence in introducing you to the child. You were Ex-Imperial after all. But he warmed up to you, seeing the way you cared so deeply for the children on Sorgan. When he introduced you to the little green bean, who did not yet have a name, you were enamoured. That's when Din knew he was in love with you. Ever since that day, he'd only fallen in love with you more and more. His feelings became stronger with every waking second he spent with you.

Of course, he never acted on his feelings. He wished he had, he wished he could say something. He knew that if something happened to you and you didn't know how he truly felt, he'd regret it for the rest of his life. There had been countless times where you and him brushed paths on the Razor Crest. Plenty of times to say something, plenty of times to mutter the three words that had consumed his mind, body and soul. ‘I love you’. The words were like a broken record in the back of his mind. He looked at you through his visor, seeing your distress and his heart aching and he wanted— no, he had to do something.

His son had been kidnapped and suddenly, Din was an unstoppable force. Nothing could hold him back— not his friends, not the Creed, nothing. The regret ate him up like flies on a corpse. If there was one thing he learned from Grogu's disappearance, is that you never know what is coming around the corner. Din began to treat everyday with you like it was your last because there was no way of telling what the future was holding. And that only stirred him on, the desire of telling you how much you meant to him.

"You can't go," you removed your finger from your lips where you had been anxiously biting your nails. "The security system is biometric facial recognition. There must be another way." you tried to rack your brain for a solution, but Din's mind was already made up.

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes in search for an answer. You steadied your breathing. "Din," you whispered. "What if we distract them? You go in there and speak to him so he's looking the other way and I'll use that moment to sneak past and access the terminal."

No answer. "Din?" you asked, cautiously opening your eyes. He was already gone. Your mouth began to open and close like a goldfish as you watched his approach the terminal. He paused, midway between two tables, shakily saluting Valen Hess. Din turned back to the terminal, held his head up high and carried on over to it.

Upon examining it, Din found it was no different to any other information point— whether it had been New Republic or Independent, Din was lucky enough to already know how to navigate the system. He clicked a few buttons on the keypad, bringing up the facial recognition scanner. He stood still, letting it roam down his face. He didn't have much faith, but it was worth a shot.

Din cursed under his breath as the scanner light lit up red, beeping ecstatically.

"Error. Error. Facial scanning incomplete. Ten seconds until system shutdown." An automated voice informed. Din felt a few gazes burn into his back, no doubt Valen Hess noticing the commotion. "Ten, nine, eight-"

You watched as the timer went down, your hand fingers curling around the blaster in your holster. You didn't know what Din was going to, but you knew if anything— he was a man with a plan.

And that was when he removed his helmet.

It hit you like a ton of bricks, it took the air from your lungs leaving you gasping in silence. You felt like a criminal, looking at him with your own eyes. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn't tear the gaze from the back of his head.

Brown hair. Dark brown hair, slightly messy from the helmet. Although you were some distance away, you noticed the little waves and the way it curled at the nape of his neck. The cut of the Imperial armour revealed just a sliver of his skin. It was golden tan— surprising to you.

"Facial scanning complete." The dataspike ejected from the terminal, a small light lit up in green, validating that the information had been processed and Din was now the owner of Moff Gideon’s co-ordinates. Just as he was about to put his helmet back on, a voice interrupted him.

Your heart sank when you saw that Valen Hess had approached Din.

"Trooper, where are you stationed?"

"Transportation."

"What?"

"My designation is transport— co-pilot."

"No son, what's your TK number?"

Din felt his throat dry up as he looked the man in the eyes. Valen Hess stared at Din right back, looking into the eyes that nobody had gazed into since Din had been sworn to the Creed. Din swallowed the lump in his throat, only for it to return immediately.

"He's with me." you announced, walking over to Din and Hess. A wash of relief shuttled through Din's body upon hearing your voice, but that was completely blown away when he realised you had seen him. It was true, you had seen his face— but there was no time to act up. Din had sacrificed everything for Grogu and you weren't going to let this go wrong. "This is my trooper, sir."

"Who is he and what's his TK number?" Valen Hess repeated, clicking his tongue between his teeth.

"This is my commanding officer TK-0402, and I'm TK-0322. I'm afraid he doesn't speak much. Ever since his vessel lost pressure on Tanaab." You explained with confidence, sighing apologetically and placing a hand on your hip.

Din found the courage to look at you, making brief yet bewildered glances between you and Valen Hess. He had a thousand questions but he knew he could trust you, and so, he smiled wearily, nodding his head in agreement to your little story.

"What's his name?" Hess inquired.

You took a deep breath, and turned to face Din. He looked at you too, his face softening as your eyes met for the very first time. You felt your heart rate slow down as you took in his appearance. You were nervous, and tensions were high, but as you looked into the Mandalorian's sparkling eyes, you felt a familiar sense of belonging. You felt complete.

"Brown eyes." you whispered, feeling the tears pool up as you tried to choke back a sob. Din smiled at you, just a small smile, but enough to make the corners of his eyes crinkle. It gave you the reassurance to know that this was all worth it.

"Well, brown eyes," Valen Hess adjusted his belt. "You troopers were both on the transport that brought in the valium, correct? The only surviving shocktroopers, might I add." he grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"Y-yeah, that was us." You answered hesitantly.

"Please, come join me for drinks. We must celebrate." Hess said, approaching the table he was originally sat at and ushering you over with an exaggerated gesture.

You and Din exchanged a look before walking over to the table and sinking down into the chair. Hess poured out two cups of caf and slid them over. Din stayed silent for most of the conversation, briefly making utterances of affirmation and nodding his head to suggest that he was indeed listening.

Although, he wasn't listening really. His mind was racing and he couldn't concentrate on anything. Although it wasn't necessarily true, he felt like every head in the room was looking at him. Staring at him. Judging him breaking his oath. Was he a failure? Was he a disgrace to the Creed? Dishonourable? A monster?

"I could blather on 'to health' or 'to success', but… tell me TK-0322, where do you come from?"

"Alderaan." you said without hesitation. Din looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, wondering why exactly you had given Hess the details of your real planet.

"Ah, I see…" Hess frowned. "Well, to Alderaan!" he grinned, raising his glass in the air.

"No." you deadpanned and Hess shot you a confused look.

"No?"

"No." you repeated. "Alderaan was a peaceful planet destroyed by the Empire."

"And those on the Death Star, those who aided in the destruction of Alderaan became heroes of the Empire. I was there." he said with pride.

Din watched your face harden as your cheeks burned up with rage. "Heroes?" you croaked out. "For attacking and murdering innocents? Hundreds of thousands of people died on Alderaan. I lost my family."

"Losing the ones we love is simply part of life," Hess revealed with a sigh— and Din felt his heart shatter at his words. He stiffened up, his gaze fixating on the concrete wall as his surroundings began to faze out.

"At what cost?" you whispered. "You know, every day I think about it. I wished there was something I could do to stop it. But no, I was here, fighting for the Empire. While the Empire was out killing my people." You gritted out as tears pricked your eyes. You felt Dins hand manouver under the table and take place on your thigh, as his gloved fingers rubbed comforting circles into the thin material that covered your skin. His hand was large, fitting around your leg perfectly. He held you down, stopping your anxious shaking and you immediately calmed down. Din wasn't going to stop you, but he did want you to not let your feelings intrude on what was really happening right now. Valen Hess, however, looked mortified. You picked up the glass and forced a smile. Din copied your movement and you clinked your glass with his. "To family." you toast, and Din smiles. He smiles so wide a dimple appears in his cheek.

"To family." he confirms, thinking about his son and how close he was to getting him back.

You put the glass of caf back down on the table and quickdrew your blaster, shooting Valen Hess in the chest.

Din knew better than to question you. He took out his own pistol and helped you take down the remaining troopers and Imps in the room before you both raced out of the base.

Of course, you knew that there'd be commotion. You heard the TIE fighter engines as soon as you stepped foot outside. Din grabbed your hand, pulling you along as you both sprinted into the depths of the forest. Once deep enough, you looked up. It was dark, strings of light beaming through the gaps in the trees. But it was enough to illuminate Din. You had envisioned what Din looked like beneath his beskar helmet every single day, and now, you had your answer.

Din took one look at you. He pulled off his leather gloves, dropping them to the ground and placed his hand on your cheek. Subconsciously, you leaned into the warmth of his palm as his fingers tucked the strands of hair behind your ear. You closed your eyes, humming in delight as his bodily warmth transferred to you.

"Din, when we return to the ship you can put your helmet back on. I never saw you." you promised, your voice barely above a whisper and your eyes remaining closed.

"Cyare," Din mumbled, his heart yearning. The pad of his thumb traced your face, following the height of your cheek bones and the arch of your eyebrows and down your nose. "Open your eyes." he requested. Cautiously, you obeyed, your eyes fluttering open as you drunk in his appearance once more.

Brown stubble with a patch of grey graced the lower portion of his face. You reached out, this time your own hand cupping his cheek. Din didn't let go of you, and he let you touch him. Your finger nervously brushed over the coarse hairs and you let out a small giggle as you remembered him telling you from the Fresher room on the Razor Crest that he was going to shave. He had, and now you could see for yourself that it had started growing back.

"Do… do you like what you see?" Din asked nervously, his gaze only temporarily lifting from yours.

You nodded your head. "I do," you admitted. "You're… so handsome."

Din felt his cheeks heat up as you watched the small blush creep upon his face. You were enthralled, seeing him like this. Seeing his humanity— his emotions and expressions. You knew you loved Din, with or without the helmet— but this confirmed everything.

"May I?" Din asked, leaning into you slowly and closing his eyes. The curve of his nose bumped against yours as and the softness of his lips touched you so delicately.

You mumbled a small 'yes' and as your lips parted, Din kissed you. Soft, sweet, but passionate and with heart. You tangled your hands in his hair, tugging at it and encouraging Din to kiss you deeper and further. He done so, willingly, a groan of pleasure escaping his mouth and vibrating through your body.

He pulled away eventually, breathless and his eyes dark and glazed. "I-I…" he was speechless, looking at you with the utmost adoration. "I love you." He sighed in defeat, knowing now was a better time than any to admit his true feelings. He had to do it one day, and it just so happened to be in the depths of a forest as you hid from Imperials.

"I love you too." you exhaled shakily, thrusting forward into his arms and letting him hold you tight to his chest. He pressed a kiss into your hair.

"I love you so much." Din sobbed, his grip around you tightening like he was afraid that if he let go, you'd vanish just like Grogu did. "Please, never leave me. Please."

"I'm not going anywhere Din," you promised. "Now c’mon, let's go get Grogu."

PART TWO

#the mandalorian season 2 spoilers #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian season 2

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littlemisspascal · 4 years

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Death and an Angel part 5

Helmetless + Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: A call with one of your bosses threatens to split you and Din apart.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,075

Warnings: Reader experiences a panic attack, use of a swear word, angst, reference to most recent Mandalorian episode so I guess it’s kind of spoiler-ish, hurt/comfort and more angst

Author Note: All the love to everyone who follows along with this series! I joined AO3 recently so all these parts will be on there as well at LittleMissPascal. I’m actually really nervous about the response to this particular segment so...be gentle, please ❤

Links to Part 1 and Part 4 and Part 6

Photo Inspiration:

“Cupid 1-1-7, am I hearing you correctly? You said there was an explosion?”

You scrub a hand over your face, biting back a sigh lest the comlink picks it up. “Not a literal one, sir. I’m still not sure what happened, just that when my client touched a potential match’s hand there was this...invisible blast of energy or something.”

The silence on the other end is enough to make you want to slam your head against the wall of the Razor Crest. You’d called headquarters as soon as you and Din had returned to his ship, figuring if anyone had a clue as to what the hell had happened it’d be one of your superiors.

After twenty minutes of explaining your predicament not once, but three times, you’re beginning to realize you were evidently mistaken.

“Remind me again, Cupid 1-1-7, what name was it you referred to this immortal client of yours as?” Over the comlink, your boss’ voice sounds as if he’s gargling jagged rocks, deep and throaty. You can imagine the narrowed-eyed look he’d be giving you in person and you’re grateful you’re not currently having this conversation over a holoprojector.

“I didn’t.”

Your eyes drift to the ladder leading up to the cockpit where Din is located. Something inside of you is insistent you keep Din’s identity hidden from your superiors. It’s a feeling you’ve never experienced before, certainly not with any of your former clients. Part of you thinks of the sensation as possessiveness, but what have you to be possessive of? You have no claim to him, nothing tying you to one another.

“Interesting,” your boss says, dry as the Dune Sea.

“My client is high-profile, sir. He asked me to remain discreet and I intend to uphold his request.” You clutch the comlink against your chest, taking deep breaths to keep yourself calm as you wait to hear if he believed your lie or not.

“This...incident you’ve described, it does bring to mind an event in history with similar details.” There is a shuffling sound that echoes over the device, resembling papers being picked up and flipped through. He hums, a long drawn out note that makes your skin crawl. “Yep, here’s the report right here, referencing an outburst erupting as a result of the physical contact between a potential pair.”

You wait for more information, drumming your fingers against a nearby crate.

“Unfortunately, you are not of rank to hear the specifics.”

“But—”

“I must say though, the Moff will be most interested in this development,” he continues, ignoring your protest as if you hadn’t opened your mouth at all.

Heart lodging in your throat at the mention of the head seraph, you manage to choke out, “I really don’t think that’s necessary, Mr. Hess.”

“That’s sir to you, Cupid 1-1-7.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Forgive me, sir.” You’re two seconds from babbling yourself off a cliff and you can’t find the off switch for your mouth. “It’s just. Moff Gideon is so busy, as I’m sure you know, and I would hate to bother him with this case when I have everything under control—”

“Except that you clearly don’t. Otherwise you wouldn’t have made this call.”

His words hit you like a punch, silencing you.

“The Moff will hear about this, as well as your breaking protocol by concealing information from your superior when directly asked. No doubt he will be as displeased about your behavior as I am.”

Your eyes fall shut as you listen, slumping against the ship’s wall and sliding down onto the cold floor. You feel disconnected from the situation, as if he’s discussing someone else’s fate instead of your own.

“In the meantime,” his voice drones on, adding more weight to the pressure on your chest. “I will permit you forty-eight hours to complete your assignment before I officially relegate it to another Cupid. You will also be ordered to take a reassessment test of your basic understanding of standard Cupid regulations.”

You squeeze your eyes together tighter, feeling like you’re about to throw up. Each breath you take feels pointless, as if there is no longer any oxygen in the air, but you have enough pride left to keep you from having a breakdown with your boss still on the line.

“Do you understand the terms in which I’ve stated to you, Cupid 1-1-7?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Amor vincit omnia.” The parting mantra sounds almost sinister coming from his mouth.

“Amor vincit omnia,” you echo, forcing your voice to remain steady.

The comlink clicks off. The floodgates open not a second later.

You press your palms against your mouth, desperately trying to hold back the sobs that wrack your body so they don’t disrupt the silence of the cargo hold. The tears streaming down your face refuse to be stifled though, burning your eyes as they fall. Your head pounds in rhythm with your heartbeat, a frantic drumming counting down the seconds until you either scream or pass out. Or both.

It’s an ugly, hysterical kind of crying that can’t be stopped once started, not even when you hear movement from the ladder right before Din slides down it, boots thudding loudly against the floor.

And then it seems like Din is right there in front of you without ever having moved, unnaturally fast and stealthy, gloved fingers resting on your shoulders. He’s taken off his helmet, brown eyes full of such concern it only makes you cry harder seeing them, further increasing his worry.

“Are you hurt? Tell me what’s wrong, angel,” he murmurs, a note of franticness in his voice as he looks you over for injuries, finding none except for the few scratches along your arms you’d received earlier when you landed in the dirt.

You shake your head when he tries to move your hands away from your face, emitting a choked hiccup that threatens to crack your already-bruised rib cage with its intensity.

“Angel, you’ve got to breathe, okay?” Din says, soft and soothing. You blink through your watery vision, finding his gaze again, and he offers you a small, reassuring smile. “In and out. Just like this.” He inhales a purposefully deep breath, then slowly releases it without once breaking eye contact.

You try to copy him, but your nose is stuffed with snot and your lungs hitch with another round of sobs, ruining your attempt.

“Can I…?” Din again reaches for one of your hands, this time hovering without attempting direct contact, waiting for your consent.

Trembling, it feels like a monumental task to remove your hand from where it’s glued to the top of your other one still covering your mouth. Din grabs onto your wrist and brings your hand to his chest plate, pressing it against the cool beskar.

“Together, okay? In and out.”

He continues his litany of encouragement, patient and calm, and gradually your heaving sobs begin to lose their power, enabling you to reclaim control of your lungs. Catching your breath, you begin to wipe away the lingering tears with the hand not still held gently in Din’s grip.

“Sorry,” you sniff, embarrassed. The beginning ache of a migraine starts to form in the back of your head, worsening when you try to move too quickly, and you bite back a wince.

His grip on your wrist tightens in admonishment. “There’s no need to be,” he says, but your ears detect his thinly restrained anger. “Who were you speaking to?”

“He’s one of my superiors. Valin Hess,” you answer, biting your lip.

“I should have him wiped clean from the galaxy for making you cry,” Din hisses, a snarl on his face and eyes darkening with rage.

Face to face with anyone else, you would have felt terrified being so close to such open hostility. But this is how Din expresses his overprotective nature, making himself a more dangerous threat than the enemy, and for that reason, you could never be scared of him.

“Din, listen to me,” you say, curling your hand in his grasp until he yields to your movements and allows you to intertwine your fingers with his gloved ones. “What happened on Sorgan when you touched Omera’s hand, Hess said it wasn’t the first time something like that has happened. He wouldn’t give me the details though because I’m not high enough rank.”

He raises an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware Cupids had any kind of ranking system.”

“It’s based on how long you’ve existed. I’ve only been a Cupid for fifty years now, barely made any kind of lasting imprint on the galaxy.”

“Don’t say that,” he mutters, shooting you a stern look. “You’ve made a bigger impact than you could ever know.”

Struck momentarily speechless, you can only watch as he moves to sit on the floor beside you, clasped hands settling between his thigh and yours. The pauldron on his shoulder presses against the upper half of your arm and you tilt your head until your temple rests against it.

“That’s not what made you upset,” Din says.

You don’t need to shake your head, confirming the truth he already knows, but you do anyway, comforted by the cold metal rubbing across your forehead.

“What did he tell you, angel?”

You know by how he squeezes your hand that he genuinely wants to hear what happened. You know he must hear it from you because no one else can break the news. And you know you cannot lie to him because Hess’ intervening affects him even more than it does yourself. Still, in spite of knowing all of this, the words don’t come out any easier.

“I have only two days to figure out who your soulmate is before he reassigns you another Cupid.”

Din goes abruptly stiff. “What.”

“Because of the explosion and then also because I broke protocol by refusing to say you were my client, Hess believes I’m not handling things well and should be replaced by someone better.”

If you hadn’t known Din was immortal, you would think he died with how still he remains at your side. Leaning back with increasing worry, you see him staring forward across the cargo hold, granting you only a glimpse of the side of his face.

He...Oh, Maker.

He looks kriffing pissed.

“Din—”

“How...” he cuts himself off, nostrils flaring as he clenches his jaw. “How could they ever think there is anyone better than you?”

For the job, you tell yourself, not allowing your hopes to rise. He means there isn’t anyone better for the job.

“I’m just a Cupid,” you tell him weakly, shrugging a shoulder. “I—”

“Stop talking poorly about yourself,” he snaps, the closest he’s ever come to yelling at you, turning to meet your gaze with fire burning in his eyes. You swallow thickly, his intensity making you feel like cornered prey.

When he speaks again, his baritone voice has become a low murmur, each word carefully chosen and bleeding sincerity. “Everything you said about knowing who your soulmate is—I want to experience all of it with you. Only you. You’re it for me, angel.”

You freeze, unable to believe what you’re hearing, train of thought coming to a screeching halt. For the second time during this conversation, you’ve lost your voice, mouth opening and closing but no sound coming out.

“You’re it for me,” he repeats, sounding as if he’s pleading for you to believe him. “So tell your bosses to go fuck themselves. You’re the only Cupid I could ever want by my side.”

The reference of your designation is like dumping a bucket of ice water over your head, shocking your entire system. You wrench yourself away from him, stumbling onto your feet.

“You don’t know what you’re saying,” you say as you start to pace around the room, hearing the hysterical edge in your own voice.

He stands up, expression warring between confusion and irritation. “I know you feel something too. Why do you keep pulling away from me?”

“Because we can’t be together, Din,” you answer, blinking back the unbidden tears starting to form again. “I’m not your soulmate. It isn’t possible!”

“Angel.” He catches your elbow when you pass by him, forcing you to face him. His voice is brittle when he speaks, already expecting your answer to shatter his wounded heart. “Why can’t you be with me?”

“Because I’ve already met my soulmate. And he wasn’t you.”

Tag List: @leilei-draws, @theocatkov, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph, @stardust-and-starlight, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor, @remmyswritings, @gallowsjoker, @rhiannon-russo, @randomness501, @eleine-t1d, @nicotinebirds, @sylphene, @softly-sad, @maytheglitter, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @eleinemk

#din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #Din Djarin #the mandalorian #my writing #death and an angel #my fic #soulmate au #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x reader

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cyarikaaa · 4 years

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The Jedi & The Mandalorian: The Rescue

masterlist

pairings: din djarin x reader, young!luke skywalker x reader

requested: no lol

word count: 1,559

warning(s): CHAPTER 16 SPOILERS. proceed with caution!! also this is unedited & was written late at night in a couple of hours so it’s not the best lol. just some fluff

summary: reader (could also be oc because of the name drop) reunites with an old friend but also has to say goodbye to a new one.

a/n: this may not be 100% accurate as i am not super familiar with everything in the star wars universe. also chapter 16...i have no words so here’s this instead :)

You peered over Grogu’s shoulder staring at the holocams. You could feel it, you knew it was him.

It was silent, the only noise coming from the ruckus below or the occasional coo from Grogu. The dark troopers had stopped their banging on the doors, leaving you and the crew to stare in disbelief.

“Why did they stop?” Fennec asked, tightly holding her weapon. You walked closer towards Din who stood at the entrance as Gideon appeared to be quite alarmed. Cara grabbed her blaster and walked closer to the shut doors while Bo-Katan peered at the cams.

Perhaps you were just imagining it, but you could feel his signature through the Force. But it couldn’t be him, could it?

You could sense that Bo-Katan seemed to be on high alert, her body language proving so as well as she muttered, “A Jedi?”

Was it really him?

“That’s impossible,” you demanded, “How could that be?”

“The Jedi temple,” It whispered.

No one answered as they clutched their weapons, ready for attack. Until suddenly you hear shots being fired behind you. You turn to see Moff Gideon firing at Bo-Katan, the child close by. Igniting your lightsaber, you dive in front of Grogu and deflect each shot successfully.

“Drop it!” shouts Fennec as everyone points their blasters towards the man. You can sense his discomfort as you slowly stand up, he’s ready to run away. You slowly move towards him as he raises his blaster to point up to his chin and with a grunt, you swing at it letting it fall towards the floor as you swiftly knock him to the ground with the hilt of your lightsaber.

Then you hear it. The unmistakable sounds of a lightsaber coming into impact with an object of some sort. The dark troopers, you figure. Grogu edges towards the holocams, mesmerized by the swinging of the saber it seems, as you and Din watch carefully. The figure is draped in what you figure is a plain and black cloak along with a glove that holds on tightly to a lightsaber.

“It’s him,” It whispered again, “He’s here…”

You watch as the figure quickly moves towards the lift, his cloak dragging behind him.

“He’s here…” It repeated once more.

The footsteps of the dark troopers alarm you until they come to a halt, before moving away from the door. How close was he?

You peered over Grogu’s shoulder staring at the holocams. You could feel it, you knew it was him. The door of the lift opened and although you couldn’t see his face you knew it was him as the whispers grew louder, repeating the mantra.

Once more, the group had their weapons at ready although you knew it would be futile. What felt like hours passed as you watched the holocams, you felt helpless, you knew he was powerful, but there were too many dark troopers. Was he powerful enough?

The voices did nothing to quell your anxiety, and you found yourself growing rather annoyed, as It repeated, “He’s here…”

“He’s here.”

The elevator dinged and you watched as he swiftly attacked the dark troopers one by one, deflecting their shots with ease using a mix of his lightsaber and the Force.

You heard the last dark trooper struggle against the Force, the sound seemed to have amplified as It had finally quieted down, and drop to the ground. Grogu turned around and stared into your mind as you heard a whisper, a thought.

“A Skywalker?”

You nodded, quickly glancing at Din who seemed to realize what was happening as Grogu motioned towards the doors. You quickly picked up the Child, placing him in Din’s arms as you walked towards the doors and ignited your lightsaber. Everyone was waiting quietly, anticipating their next moves.

“Open the doors,” you spoke loudly. You didn’t even know what to suspect but you knew, either way, he would be entering through those doors whether you gave him permission or not. “I said, open the doors.”

Fennec glanced at you, “Are you crazy?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Din slowly place Grogu in one of the chairs and made his way over to where you stood, but not before pressing the button granting him entrance to where the 8 of you stood. Din glanced at you and nodded, seemingly calm, as you heard the hissing of the doors.

You saw the green light that emitted from his saber seconds before you saw the actual cloaked figure. He extinguished his lightsaber and put it away. It felt like hours had passed until he slowly peeled the cloak away from his face, revealing the man you once loved.

“It is him!” It whispered, “Trust…”

He made eye contact with you first as he clasped, then decided to unclasp his hands motioning towards you as you stumbled, then jogged, towards him in disbelief. Luke stepped forwards closing the distance as the two of you nearly fell into the other’s arms. It was as if you had never parted on Hoth. You could feel the warm tears flowing down your face dripping on to his cloak.

“It’s really you,” you whispered with a big grin on your face.

“It’s really me,” Luke answered meeting your eyes with his bright blue ones with an even bigger grin on his face.

You heard Din grunt behind you, and you could sense the jealousy coming off of him. You knew Luke could feel it too as he let out an awkward chuckle then cleared his throat. As you slowly backed away glancing around the room sheepishly, Luke stepped back and clasped his hands as he had done in the beginning choosing to focus on Grogu.

“You’re a Jedi, aren’t you?” questioned Din.

“I am,” answered Luke as he stretched out his hand towards Grogu. “Come, little one.”

Din turned towards the Child slowly as he cooed, “He doesn’t want to go with you.”

“He wants your permission, stated Luke, “He is strong with the Force, but talent without training is nothing.” He motioned towards Grogu once more, “I will give my life to protect the Child...but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”

Although it was the right thing to do, it took everything in you to not beg for more time. The three of you had just been reunited, it wasn’t time.

“It is Time. It is better this way,” It whispered.

It felt like a dozen cycles had passed as you watched Din pick up Grogu and make his way towards Luke.

“Hey, go on. That’s who you belong with,” reassured Din, “He’s one of your kind.”

You walked over to Grogu and gently placed one last kiss on his head, “Be strong, little one.” You could sense he had many questions but you attempted to quell his fears, “No, not me. I can’t train you as well as Master Luke can,” Before stepping away to allow Din to resume saying his goodbyes to his son.

“I’ll see you again,” Din whispered as you and the rest watched on, “I promise.” In response, Grogu started to coo and reached out to his father. Nothing, not even the Force, could’ve predicted that Din would take off his helmet at that moment. All of you turned regardless, to give him some privacy but he motioned towards you as all you could do was stare at his gorgeous brown eyes with a messy tuft of brown hair piled on top of his head. Blinking yourself out of your stupor, you steadied yourself and walked towards your clan of three as Grogu reached his small hands out to touch both of your faces.

“All right, pal,” said Din as he started to tear up.

“It’s time to go now,” you concluded for the both of you. If you had spent any more time, you’d refuse to let go of both Din and Grogu altogether.

Grogu whined loudly as Din tried to quiet him down, “Don’t be afraid.” And with one last glance, he nodded and put him down. Grogu tugged at your pant leg but as soon as R2-D2 popped out, he let go and went after the excited droid, happy to be reunited with a familiar face. The group continued to watch on, and Luke stood stoically with his hands still clasped, choosing to nod towards Din.

He picked the Child up and went to walk back to the lift, but he seemed to remember something as he stopped and turned back around, “Amara?”

You froze. You hadn’t heard him say your name in...Blast! You couldn’t even remember the last time you had.

Sensing your concern he added, “Will you be joining us? I know you doubt yourself, but I believe you would be a great addition to the group.”

You glanced around the room before quickly answering, “I have some unfinished business. Maybe in a couple of cycles?” You offered him a smile before remembering, “May the Force be with you. And give Leia and Han my love, would you?”

He smiled before adjusting the Child and nodded, “May the Force be with you.”

As you watched Luke and Grogu leave, you felt a warm hand and fingers interlace with yours. Thank the Maker, you still had Din.

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 4 years

Text

The Mandalorian - Imagine Din Being Protective (Part 4)

Wow. I got it done during a lunch break, and I’m so happy. This is set near the end of Season 2. It is pretty long, just a fair warning.

Warnings: spoilers for near-end of Season 2, blasters, brief fighting.

You watched the unusual exchange unfold before you before Mayfeld’s gaze swept over the group before flickering back to land on you. He seemed to puff out his chest a little as he eyed you with interest. “And who’s this lovely miss?” Wonderful. Just fantastic.

Over the last several days, you learned that the Empire had been steadily recuperating behind the scenes. The Razor Crest had been obliterated in the matter of seconds. But worst of all, the Grogu was taken. It was like one giant nightmare that you were waiting to wake up from, only to find yourself lying in a cot aboard the Razor Crest. But you didn’t. Instead, you were standing in the middle of a junkyard to recruit a prisoner who could help locate the child.

Now to top it off, this scruffy guy was hitting on you?

You gave him a look, arms folded across your chest. “The name is _________.”

“Yeah? Nice name for a nice girl.”

Cara Dune made a fake wincing sound. “I would back off if I were you.”

He gave a shrug. “I don’t hear her complaining.”

“You better hope she doesn’t,” Cara taunted, giving him a warning look.

Mayfeld narrowed his eyes. “Or what? The Mandalorian is going to shoot me?” He gave a laugh, shaking his head at the idea.

“Thinking about it,” Din sighed in annoyance, the beskar chestplate rising and falling dramatically with the gesture. He stood, hand resting on his belt in a casual stance just across from you, completely unaware of how content you were observing him in moments like this. A part of you wondered if his annoyance with Mayfeld stemmed from his past experience working with the man, or if even a small part was because of the obvious flirt attempt he made at you.

The prisoner’s eyes widened and brows lifted incredulously as he gestured to you. “What, is this your girl now? Finally got over Xi’an, eh?”

You tried to keep the surprise and curiosity from your expression at the mention of this female, but your eyes instinctively darted to Din, whose visor was still glued to Mayfeld and refused to look your way. The man caught this subtle expression and smirked.

“Oops, sorry,” he shrugged with mock regret. “Didn’t tell her about the ex, I guess. I’ll try and keep things on the down-low then until you have a chance to talk about it.”

You hadn’t asked Din too much about his past. He expressed his disdain for the way he used to be, so you figured it was something best left untouched until he was ready to speak more on the subject. Of course you didn’t want to assume that he had never had a love interest before, but he seemed so closed-off when you met him. It was hard to imagine anyone could melt that ice. Unless this Xi’an was something special.

You felt a twinge in your chest. It was like jealousy walked through the front door unannounced and picked a place to crash for a while. It wasn’t taking over, but could be bothersome if you paid too much attention. So you decided not to. There were too many other things to worry about.

“Alright, let’s get moving,” Cara said impatiently. “We’re wasting time.”

You boarded Boba Fett’s ship, taking your seat as the others did. The new ally began the take-off, and several seconds passed in silence before Din spoke up. Mayfeld scoffed at the idea of obtaining coordinates to Moff Gideon’s ship. Cara sighed and informed him that the kid was taken.

The kid. The child.

Your little baby. You kept seeing his face, his tiny green features and big brown eyes. You pictured him happy as he sipped some broth and smiled at you. Or the time shortly after you learned from the former jedi that his name was Grogu. You and Din spent the afternoon calling him that and sharing laughs at how his ears perked. The image was replaced with the most recent memory you had of him, when he was ripped right from your arms by strange droids at the seeing stone. You glanced down at your arms, heart sinking. The bruises those droids left had already healed from bacta patches, but your arms had never felt so empty.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Din’s disbelieving tone. “Morak? There’s nothing on Morak.”

“It’s a secret Imperial mining hub, okay?” Mayfeld replied. “If you can get me in there, I can get you the coordinates.”

Silence fell over the group again. Cara glanced your way, looking as if she wasn’t sure whether to believe the prisoner or not. You gave a shrug. This was Din’s idea, and if he thought it would work, you trusted him.

Din commed Boba. “Fett, punch in the coordinates to Morak.”

“Copy that.”

----------

“I did an initial scan of the planet,” Boba said. “This is what you’re talkin’ about, right?”

Mayfeld gave a nod, pointing to the holomap. “Yeah, that’s the refinery right there.”

“Wonder what they’re refining in there,” Fennec mused.

“Looks like rhydonium. Highly volatile and explosive.”

“Yeah, kinda’ like this one, huh?” Mayfeld chuckled, gesturing to Cara.

From where you stood, you could see Boba’s look of unamusement and practically feel Din’s annoyance as the two stared at him. That sight almost made you laugh, but the situation wasn’t exactly a laughing matter.

The group speculated on the measures the Empire had taken to keep its refinery secure. It didn’t sound like getting in would be very easy. Fortunately, between a criminal, three bounty hunters, a New Republic officer, and you, a pretty decent plan was cooked up. They were going to hijack a delivery truck and infiltrate the refinery that way.

The question was, who? Who was going to hop into the truck with Mayfeld?

As it turned out, neither Cara nor Fennec could. The ex-ISB had rigged the scanners, and both of them would be recognized in the database. Even Boba couldn’t, and while the others stared at him in confusion, you chuckled under your breath. You even heard a hint of amusement in his tone as he said that they might recognize his face.

“Great, so it’s me going in alone,” Mayfeld shrugged.

“No way,” Cara protested. “The minute he gets inside, he’ll tip ‘em off. He’ll be a hero.”

“Hey, this wasn’t my idea,” he pointed out, offended. “I’m doin’ you guys a favor.”

“I can go.” You spoke up much quieter than you intended, and the bickering didn’t stop, so you tried again. “I can go with Mayfeld.” At that, the conversations around you came to a halt as they considered the idea. Cara nodded, impressed, while Mayfeld eyed you curiously.

“You, uh, sure you can handle it?” He folded his arms.

“I’ve been traveling with Mando for a while now, and I’ve helped him and Cara on multiple occasions,” you told him. “I think I can handle walking in there and laying low while you get the coordinates.”

He held his hands up in understanding. “Well, okay. I think it’ll work.”

You stole a glance at Din to see his visor already fixed on you. It was that stare. The protective one that made you feel safe from everything else, yet vulnerable to him. It was like the air was stolen from your lungs for just a moment. You figured he would protest, but you hadn’t expected what he’d say next.

“I’ll go,” Din volunteered.

Mayfeld’s gaze traveled to him, and he scoffed. “Hey buddy, I might be good at fast-talking, but I don’t think I can explain away a guy in a Mando suit to Imperial guards. So unless you’re gonna’ take off that helmet, it’s gonna’ be me and _________ heading in there. Or say goodbye to your little green friend.”

“That’s not an option,” you argued, feeling the pain well up at his words. You couldn't imagine what Grogu was going through, even now as the lot of you debated how this situation was going to play out. You didn’t want to think about it, but you kept seeing him reaching for you.

Din’s words drew the gazes of the entire group. “__________ isn’t going in there. I’m coming with you instead. But I won’t show my face.”

“No, Mando, even if you’re going, I’m going too.” You blinked away the tears that had just started to blur your vision, fortunately catching them before they fell, and looking at him with resolve. “I can’t stand by and do nothing. Not with our baby being held by the Empire.”

It was suddenly quiet. Much too quiet. And that’s when you realized your mistake. You hadn’t called Grogu the baby. Or even just his baby. You had definitely used the word our. It made you want to vanish into the jungle- especially when you took in how the group was looking at you. Cara’s lips parted in a surprised smirk as she tipped her head slightly. Fennec raised a brow, though her expression didn’t betray her intrigue in any other way. Even Boba Fett’s eyes seemed to soften; whether it was over your expression of care for the child or out of pity at your slip-up, you weren’t sure. You didn’t even want to look at Din, but you found yourself staring into his visor, searching for some indication of his feelings on the matter. There was nothing, just silence. Mayfeld sighed, though it didn’t sound like exasperation. It almost sounded sympathetic.

“Look, typically for a delivery like this, there’s only two troops,” he pointed out, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. You looked to him, glad for the attention to be taken off of you. He caught your pleading gaze and let out another sigh. “It’s uncommon, but not unheard of. I think we can get by with the three of us. But you gotta’ lay low, like you said.” He pointed at you, and you nodded. “Alright. We’ve got to go.”

The nerves were building up in your chest as you, Cara, Din, and Mayfeld dropped onto the juggernaut. This wasn’t like going undercover at the cantina. This was a whole other experience entirely, but you felt ready. Before long, the two troops were taken out, and their armor taken away.

Din disappeared around a corner to change out of his Mandalorian armor and into the Imperial trooper gear. Mayfeld complained about the smell of his newly acquired armor, and you were grateful to be wearing the spares that were tucked away. You found a spot on the juggernaut to slip the armor on. It wasn’t built for a female, so it wasn’t the best fit. Still, it would have to work.

Suddenly, Mayfeld chuckled. “Look at this.” You peeked your head out of the juggernaut to see what looked like a trooper approaching, but you knew to be Din. “Oh, the shame. Now that right there is worth the price of admission.”

“Wish I could say it looked good on you,” Cara said, smirking. “But I’d be lying.”

Din ignored her statement. “Just make sure you take out the rooftop gunners, or we’re never getting out of there.”

“We got you.”

“Take care of this.” Din handed her the duffel with his Mandalorian armor. “Keep it safe.” As Cara took it, she assured him with a sincere look that she would. You knew she would. Like you, she knew what it meant to him.

“Hey guys. Still on the clock,” Mayfeld reminded them. “Me and _________ are all ready to go. Right?” He leaned over and gave your boot a nudge from where he sat.

You shrugged and were glad to pull the trooper bucket over your head. For once, you could be the mysterious face under the helmet. “I’m ready when you’re ready.” Not to mention your voice sounded pretty cool in the modulator. Such a shame that it was a stormtrooper helmet because you could get used to this.

While Mayfeld was busy taunting Din in an unsuccessful attempt to get a reaction, you looked to Cara.

“Wish me luck.”

“Oh, I will.” She shot a glance at the chatty man. “Considering the company you’re going to have.” Then she looked back at you with that smirk from before. “So what was that about earlier?”

You pulled the Imperial bucket off your head so that the modulator wouldn’t broadcast your voice. “I don’t know what happened, Cara. I can’t believe I said that. We’re definitely more than travelling companions at this point. I care a lot about him. I think I even... ”

She nodded, smirk becoming a more reassuring smile. “I understand. It seems like he feels the same about you.”

“Still, I’m afraid that I overstepped in calling Grogu our child.” You shook your head. “He hasn’t spoken to me since.”

“Well there’s not a whole lot of time to talk, and it’s the kinda’ thing that takes time to sort out,” she pointed out. “I’m sure it’ll be fine-”

“Hey, if you two ladies are done, we have to get moving,” Mayfeld called.

“Yeah, yeah,” you groaned, pulling the helmet over your head again. You clambered into the front of the juggernaut to get situated. The two guys were already seated and taking a look at the vehicle’s controls. Mayfeld seemed content to be with his helmet off, while Din of course kept his on.

“Feels better when it’s off,” he commented, glancing over at his companion. Din’s trooper helmet simply turned to look in his direction. He gave a smile in response before turning his attention to the road again. “__________, you too, huh?”

“I don’t ever get to wear a helmet, so I’m just enjoying this while it lasts.”

“You’re enjoying this?” Din asked. His tone didn’t seem to carry any disdain, just innocent curiosity.

“Well, not this. I mean the helmet. It’s nice to have some privacy when I’m surrounded by people who get to cover their faces. You guys don’t know whether I’m smiling or what in here.”

“You’re smiling right now,” Din said, making you turn your visor in his direction suddenly.

“How did you know that?”

“I can hear it in your voice.” And as if to prove his point, you picked up on the amusement in his tone as well.

Right. You forgot for a moment that he had a lifetime to discern emotions through helmets, being that he was a foundling in a Mandalorian community and all.

“You know, you two are just adorable,” Mayfeld interjected humorously. “Seriously, I’m touched.”

The conversation died down again after that. You were rather pleased with the exchange you had with Din. At the very least, he didn’t seem irritated with you about your earlier statement. Things seemed to be going rather smoothly.

- - - - - - - - -

You’d never been so happy to see Imperial troops in your whole life. As Mayfeld pulled the juggernaut into the safety of the Empire base, they flooded the bridge and fought off the oncoming pirates. Din had re-entered the vehicle, groaning in pain from his fight. You noticed his armor had been busted off in some places from the fight.

“Mando,” you said softly, hand on his forearm.

His visor looked to you as he said in a strained voice, “I’m alright.” His reassurance put you somewhat at ease. You knew he wasn’t really fine- he had injuries- but he was okay. He made it.

“Never thought you’d be happy to see stormtroopers.” Mayfeld saluted the line of troops that saluted and waved as the vehicle passed by, most likely to make things convincing. He and Din stepped out of the juggernaut to be met with actual applause and cheers. One even clapped a gloved hand on Mayfeld’s shoulder in congratulations. It would have been heartwarming if not for the fact that it was the Empire, and these people were working toward an oppressive future. You hopped out of the vehicle, glad to be on solid ground and not on a shaky roadtrip with rhydonium in the back.

“Okay,” Mayfeld said. “All we gotta’ do is find a terminal.” You moved to Din’s other side, and the three of you began making your way through the crowd of cheering troops. His gloved hand took yours for just a moment and gave it a light squeeze, and you returned the gesture before separating. “Should be in the officers’ mess.”

“I’ll stand by and keep an eye out,” you said.

“Good,” Mayfeld nodded. “We’ll make it quick.” You watched as the two men headed for the mess hall, and you found a spot along the wall to wait, bucket tucked under your arm. The occasional trooper stopped by to congratulate you or give you a pat on the back. This extended contact with Imperials was starting to get to your nerves.

Mayfeld and Din still hadn’t returned. Whether you were being paranoid or not, you weren’t sure. Better to play it safe. You headed in the direction they had gone earlier, helmet still under your arm, and tried to act casual. Mayfeld was standing at the doorway, eyes shifting between the floor and his surroundings. No sign of Din.

“Where is he?” you demanded. “Is he okay?”

“He’s in there.”

You followed his gaze to the mess. Everyone in the room had their helmet off.

“I don’t see him.”

Mayfeld sighed. “He’s over there by the terminal.” Both of you leaned in to sneak a glance, and you gasped softly. You saw his form standing there in the very back, head of messy brown hair. “I couldn’t go in. He had to do a facial scan to get the information.”

“You could’ve gotten me to do it.”

“That’s exactly what I said.” He shook his head. “But we wasted enough time as it is. He was worried about you going in there alone. You know, he’d really do anything for that kid, and for you.”

Oh, Din.

“Trooper,” an officer said, and his eyes were fixed on the dark-haired man in the corner that you knew was the man you’d fallen for. He rose from his seat, and your heart was pounding.

“We need to do something,” you said.

Mayfeld shook his head, eyes on the floor. “I can’t. I already said can’t go in there.”

“Fine, I’ll do it.” You straightened up, taking a deep breath, and quickly walked through the mess until you intervened the officer’s path. “Sir. You called for me, sir?”

He paused, eyes narrowing, as he stared at you. “I was referring to another trooper. The one by that terminal.” He moved to get around you, but you side-stepped to block him again. “I’m sorry, you’re sure there’s nothing I can help you with?”

He gave you a condescending look. “No, but thanks anyway.”

You hoped that Din had escaped the mess because there was nothing more you could do unless you caused a big scene, which was not in the plan.

“Trooper,” he continued, stepping around you. But to your surprise, he was faced with another. Din had walked over. Inwardly you burned at the thought of the Imperial officer looking at his face. You averted your gaze, feeling as if it would be wrong not to. Even though you wanted nothing more than to drink in his features while you could.

“You should pay attention when a superior officer addresses you,” the man said. He tipped his head to one side in observation. “What’s your designation?”

Din spoke, voice unmodulated and sounding so small. You’d never heard him sound so unsure before. “Transport crew.”

“What?”

“My designation is transport copilot,” Din said, forcing his tone to sound confident as possible to make it more convincing.

“No, son,” the officer chided. “What’s your TK number?”

“My TK number is…” He hesitated, and you could do nothing but stand aside and wait, holding your breath. How many numbers were in a TK number, anyway?

“This is my commanding officer, TK-593, sir,” Mayfeld’s voice interjected as he strolled in front of you. He spoke so casually that you were sure he’d pull it off. “I’m Imperial Combat Assault Transport Lieutenant Tk-111, sir.” He gestured to you. “This is TK-501.” Then, he glanced at Din. “I’m afraid you’ll have to speak up to him a bit since his vessel lost pressure in Taanab.”

Your eyes wandered past Mayfeld, catching another glimpse of dark, messy hair. To some it might seem a minor thing, but to you it was adding to the escalating situation. Brown eyes locked with yours, and your breath hitched. Din was looking at you. There was a trace of warmth in his eyes, and your hesitation vanished. You took in the way his brows furrowed slightly over his eyes, crinkling them at the edges. You memorized each feature. His nose. This cheekbones. The handsome way he seemed to be looking right back you. You quickly turned your gaze back to the officer in front of you who looked in Din’s direction.

“What’s your name, officer?” he belted, enunciating each word. Seeing Din’s face had been a shock, and in the middle of the stress, this officer’s behavior almost made you laugh, but you swallowed the giggle that threatened to make things worse and kept your composure. The officer leaned in, waiting for a response.

Mayfeld took the liberty of answering instead. “We just call him ‘Brown Eyes.’ Isn’t that right, Officer?” Din’s eyes flickered over as he gave a hesitant nod.

“Come on,” Mayfeld landed a hand on his shoulder and his other one on yours to lead you away. “Let’s go fill out those TPS reports, so we can go recharge the power coils...”

“You’re not dismissed.”

- - - - - - -

In short, things had gone from bad to worse. Mayfeld was growing shakier by the minute as this guy ranted about the Empire and the sacrifices that were made so far. You kept glancing at Din, who looked just as concerned as you, as Mayfeld visibly became more distressed.

Finally he raised a blaster and shot the sick man across the table. It turned into a firefight that ended just as swiftly as it began. Once the mess hall had quieted, Mayfeld handed Din his trooper helmet.

“You did what you had to do,” he said. “I never saw your face.”

Din stared at him for a moment before accepting the helmet. He quickly put it back over his head just as more troopers arrived on the scene. You sprung into action, pulling out the blaster at your belt and firing.

From there, it was just a quaint little trip out the window and along a ledge above roaring waters of the refinery with several stormtroopers in pursuit. Shots were fired. You ran.

It wasn’t until you were pulled further onto Boba’s ship by Din that you were able to stop and breathe. Mayfeld was set free by Cara and Din after he blew up the Imperial refinery, and after he left, Boba set a course for Moff Gideon’s ship. For the first time in a while, you and Din had a moment alone as he found the duffel bag of Beskar armor. He paused as if thinking it over, before setting the duffel back down. The stormtrooper visor was focused on you again. You had long removed yours, and so you gazed back with your own eyes. Suddenly, he placed a hand on either side of his helmet and slowly began to lift.

“Din,” you whispered, quiet enough so no one else would hear, as you gently stopped him with the touch of your hand to his wrist. He let go of the helmet only to put his hand over yours.

“You need to know,” he began. “About Xi’an.”

“What? No, no, there’s no need.”

“I could tell it bothered you.”

“Well, yes… Mayfeld made it sound like she was rather important, like you just finally got over her, and it bothered me that you never mentioned her.” You shook your head. “But I guess there was no reason for you to.”

“There was nothing to get over,” he said simply. “We flirted here and there. It wasn’t anything real. It wasn’t love. I think Mayfeld was just bitter because you weren’t responding to his attempts.” The chuckle that emitted from Din’s stormtrooper helmet made you smile. It was a sound that you never imagined getting used to.

You couldn’t help the sigh of relief that escaped your lips. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For talking with me,” you replied. “I was worried that after earlier you were irritated.”

“Earlier?” His tone went higher ever so slightly in realization. “Oh, right. Your turn to talk.”

“My turn?” you gulped. “No way. Let’s just forget it happened.”

You could almost hear the amusement as he tipped his head, the visor staring at you in silence.

You sighed in defeat, observing your hands as you fiddled with the stormtrooper gloves. “Alright, well...the truth is, it sort of slipped out. I think of the kid as yours because, well, you’ve been looking after him since before I met you. And the Mandalorian we spoke to said that you are as his father, by creed.” You paused, glancing up at his visor before continuing. “But...I’ve also come to think of him as my own as well. When I met the two of you, of course I thought he was a cute little guy, but I never imagined I could love someone so much. I adore Grogu, really, even though I haven’t cared for him as long as you…”

“That does not matter.”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter that I’ve known him longer. You care about him, and that’s what’s important,” Din nodded.

“I do care about him. As my own. And with the two of us…”

His visor was so close all of a sudden. “The two of us…?”

You ducked a little, recalling how he embraced you on that planet after a tense training session. “You know.”

“Do I?” he teased in a low voice, helmet even closer.

“With the two of us together, sort of, I guess I thought of us as a family...I guess. And it slipped out earlier. In front of all those people.” You raised a hand to cover your face in embarrassment at the memory. Din didn’t say anything for a moment. He reached up to pull your hand from your face gently, and with the other he lifted the stormtrooper helmet off with a deep breath.

As you peered into those brown eyes once more, you smiled. He smiled too then, the movement making his eyes crinkle. It was a lovely sight, and you lifted a hand, pausing just below his chin.

“Is it okay?”

He gave a small nod, and you reached up to touch his cheek. It was a little stubbly toward his jawline. Then you went up to start at the crease between his brows and trace down the length of his nose to his lips. He tenderly took that hand in his and kissed the fingertips.

“We’re going to get him back,” he said.

You smiled again. “I know we will.” Then, your smile faded. “And if we find where he belongs, with a jedi, then I am prepared to do what’s best for him.”

His eyes look sad as he responded, “me too.”

“For now,” you said quickly. “Next stop is Moff Gideon’s ship. We are going to take him down and get Grogu back.”

With that, Din leaned in and planted a feathery light kiss on your lips. It was something you had not expected since the moment you first laid eyes on the Mandalorian. You never imagined that you’d end up with him, seeing his face, or kissing him. You returned the kiss, touching his cheek again as you let him pull you closer, wrapping both arms around you.

The last few days had felt like a nightmare that you hoped to wake up from. But now it seemed that even in the darkness there was a glimmer of hope. The nightmare would give way to a dream.

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jedimasteramell · 7 years

Text

Fives Times, Cael & Astra

Original Characters // SWTOR // SFW

The four times Cael missed Astra’s birthday, and the one time he didn’t.

Sorry @uldren-sov this was so late lol, happy extra-extra-belated birthday

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Balmorra is nothing but pitted earth, colicoid slime, and a pervasive sensation of frustration bordering on hopelessness; from the Balmorrans and Imperials both. After more than three weeks here, Cael could go another life without experiencing any more of it. Maybe if he could get more sleep it would help.

How painfully ironic that Baras was using him to hunt down his own loose ends embedded in the Republic? The murder of Rylon’s son stung him somewhere under the impassivity he’d been trained in. A Sith would have done it, and that what he was now wasn’t he? Astra had disapproved, as she did of many of his decisions. It’d been months since they met on Korriban and she remained as evasive to his scrutiny as she was to attacks during battle. And yet despite that, or mayhaps in spite of it, he’d yet to shake her. Astra had a game of her own, and he’d yet to figure if it was in his interest to play it with her or leave the board all together.

As if summoned, Cael heard her melodic drawl. “Lucien, there you are.”

“Astra.” He greeted curtly, stiffening as she brushed her fingers across his arm, mentally damning that the reaction was not entirely an act. Of every impulse he could restrain, the way he felt about being touched escaped his control more often than he was comfortable with.

She smiled in response, the barest hint of teeth feline and tsked. “It wouldn’t hurt you to pretend you weren’t so petulant all the time.”

Lucien rolled his eyes, scoffing, though his retort curled the corner of his mouth. “And what would you do if I weren’t so?”

Astra’s eyes narrowed wickedly and she flicked her hair back, golden jewelry sparking in the glow of the morning. “Fall into another’s heroic arms I suppose.”

At the memory of the other day, he summoned a flush to his cheeks. Let her think she had any power over him, that she knew who the ‘real’ Lucien was. The gesture seemed to satisfy Astra who rolled her neck and walked away towards her dashade. As she went, Cael watched and mused. For him to truly trick her, he needed to know her, and yet after months he knew nothing personal: not a last name, not an age, not even the planet she grew up on.

Seems his choice was to play the game.

ii.

A fast flight from Dromund Kaas with a half-dead Astra was not how Cael planned on continuing his day.

He’d meant to arrive with gusto, a lord, confidant, working past his months of fumbling through Alderaan and Nar Shaddaa. But all that went out the window taking her to safety, half guiding, half carrying her to his ship. She muttered things like ‘Thanaton’ ‘punishment for Zash’ and ‘doesn’t know I’m alive’. Part of him even wanted to believe the glimmer of recognition in her eyes was of appreciation as he led her up the gangplank and order Quinn to take off

Even after they cleared atmo, and the inertia shifted with the jump to lightspeed, the little twist in Cael’s heart hadn’t subsided. Keeping his expression a stern mask of unconcern, his thoughts kept slipping back to Astra asleep in his quarters.

He’d fallen so far into this game, times like these he cursed under the lull of the engines how distracted he’d become from the bigger picture. Astra came to him. She’d never done that before. In truth, he’d been the one that needed her assistance, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that had they not met on Korriban she’d have come this far regardless. Crafty, charming, an impressive actress, she’d survive, for it seemed that was what she did.

The knot in his chest tightened uncomfortably. A slick blade of cold guilt he had to toss away. Now was not the time to consider any of this. He should have never gotten this close to begin with, not to apoint where her memory wormed into his thoughts, when her smile and teasing glare was enough to blow him off course.

If Master Sen knew he’d order her death and Cael would have to comply, eliminate Astra before she became a sympathetic person in his eyes. There would be no deep questions, no pursuit of her past, no extraneous interest, or so Cael resolved himself.

Just why did that knife keep turning?

iii.

Strange how much Corellia reminded him of Balmorra, or maybe not strange at all, the carnage, separated by space and stars replicated itself over and over on each world with a breathable atmosphere. Strange how he’d gotten so used to the smoke, sounds of distant buildings tumbling to the ground, the chorus of screams and blaster fire, and the bodies in the millions; so much so that it didn’t faze him anymore. He wished he could attribute it to his composure as a Jedi, but that was a lie. A part of him had died somewhere.

Shame the rest of him refused to follow suit.

A huff from behind him, signaled Astra’s arrival, having followed him out of the spaceport. He readjusted his composure as she stopped next to him, arms crossed and her own expression unreadable as she stared out over the burning city. In her winged armor, glowing with the hazy orange-reds of the sunset and the fleeting light glittering off her jewelry, she looked like an angel of death to him. The fire in her golden eyes matched the flames eating at the city.

His heart stirred, a painful tightening of the only emotion he seemed to feel these days: guilt. Guilt for lying to her, guilt for planning to disassemble everything she and the rest of the Empire worked for. Guilt for falling in love with her and letting her see it.

Seeming to have resolved herself, Astra looked up to him, a cat-like expression on her face, and something else maybe. “Just this last place and we’ll be through with Thanaton and Baras.” Cured of the crippling effects the Sith spirits had on her body, fearlessly ready to win the Kaggath, her devious spark had come back in full. Her fingers danced up his arm, and while he stiffened, just as he always had, no longer was it from inexperience or reluctance. Though that part of him was true enough, she always seemed to enjoy that boyish aspect of Lucien. “Try not to look so excited.”

Cael summoned a small smile just for her, and Astra accepted it, strolling down the ramp towards the Imperial outpost. There was a confidence in her he wished he could mirror, and only the smallest spark of curiosity of what she’d been planning when he caught up with her in the spaceport. Only one way to find out. He followed after her, a large, dark shadow in her wake.

The ringing of her comm brought her to a pause, answering it to the miniature blue aspect of the Moff she’d allied herself with.

“My Lord,” Pyron bowed “we’ve found out more concerning Darth Thanaton’s apprentice, if you choose so, I believe he could be swayed to reveal his master’s plans. He has not been the Darth’s apprentice for very long.”

Astra’s smile was wicked. “Thank you Pyron.” Bowing once more the holo disappeared. “What a productive day this is turning out to be, Thanaton must have known it was my birthday.”

Part of him registered that, mapped the date. Before he got his mouth working, she had already walked off, leaving him with little more than a glance over her pauldroned shoulder.

Next year… He’d say it next year…

He’d be lying to himself if he thought he ever had that chance.

iv.

“I can never tell with you Jedi, is it stoicism or moodiness?” Jonas Balkar swiveled casually on his bar stool, his languid glance around the room hiding his professional vigilance. He’d dragged Cael out to one of his favored dives, one with just the right ambiance as he put it. Which was Jonas speak for ‘good booze, good music, real dancers, and at least 5 escape points’.

Cael stared into his untouched glass, like the thick amber liquid could give him some new kind of insight. He reached up to run a hand through his hair, only to be met with the short strands of his recent haircut. One of the only things that changed since he’d returned to SIS and the Republic.

“You can never tell with Theron either.” Cael countered, making the same instinctual sweep around the cantina Jonas had.

The other spy raised a humored eyebrow and downed the remains of his drink. “Shan is easy, because he’s always both.” Jonas glanced at Cael’s untouched drink but said nothing as he waved the bar droid over for another.

“He was raised like me, at least for a time, so what do you think that says?” Strumming his fingers on the bartop, Cael fought off the darkness that crept up on him when he least expected it, pretending like everything was fine for another night.

Not that Jonas bought it. “That says you jedi are all irascible philosophers with one facial expression.” He humphed, amused at his own retort.

Absently swirling the glass for maybe the eighth time that night, Cael’s heart suddenly quickened at the fleeting glimpse of vermillion skin. Stomach in his throat, he turned in time to watch a red-skinned twi’lek wrap her arms around neck of a fellow patron. When she kissed them, Cael’s gut turned to lead, that pang in his chest that refused to heal, a burning knot. He set his elbows on the counter and covered his mouth with his hands.

Having followed the fleeting moment, Jonas scrutinized him and finished his newest drink. Though he might have never read Cael’s report, and Director Trant had made the subject highly classified, that didn’t mean Balker couldn’t read Cael himself. “I thought you weren’t supposed to form attachments.” He whispered in genuine sympathy.

“Today is her birthday.” Cael admitted, tongue suddenly too heavy and awkward in his mouth. He hadn’t spoken about her aloud in months, the mere memories the subject summoned enough to demand his reticence. “Three years, I never knew, never wished her happy birthday. I… I never asked.”

Jonas pushed Cael’s glass closer towards him. “You’ll get to, someday.”

And with such comforting conviction, the sweet lie almost tasted real.

Morning sunlight chased the mist deeper into the forests on Odessen. The fresh scent of earth and dewey stone combined with the way the balanced Force cradled everything on the planet was enough to blanket Cael with one of the most profound senses of peace he’d experienced in a long long time.

There was only one place where he felt more alive, more confident, more right: being beside Astra.

She’d gotten up earlier than him, a gentle surprise. It wasn’t her movement or noise that roused him, but the caress of the bond between them. It remained, of all he had seen, the most improbable chance. The Force had bonded the two of them, an unbreakable tie that ebbed unhurriedly along like the waves that lapped at a ponds edge. So many things had come to clarity when they learned of it, and those understandings had settled flawlessly into place when she accepted it.

Cael couldn’t stop the smile that the reflection brought to his lips. It had only taken ten years, but now he knew that the part of him he thought had died, the piece that was missing: it was accepting his love for her, and all the good and bad moments, the wondrous and ill decisions, that brought with it.

“Morning.” He found her in the hanger, breathing in time to the life awakening across the planet, knowing she sensed him long before he even spoke. Astra slipped softly from her meditation, turning her brilliant eyes on him. They narrowed with affection as she smiled.

“Good morning to you too sleepy-head.” Graceful red fingers rose to run through his hair, unwinding the little tufts that tangled in his sleep.

He kissed the top of her head, settling into the calm that just came from being at her side. “Happy Birthday Astra.”

The red-skinned sith looked up in shock, yellow eyes wide. “How did you know it was my birthday?”

Cael grinned at her. “How accusatory,” he teased, “were you planning on not telling me?”

Astra’s eyes rolled theatrically, her hands on his hips. “It’s not that… and that wasn’t the answer to my question.”

“I’ve known for a long time… since Corellia.” Cael’s eyes clouded with the bittersweet memories for a second before Astra’s touch drew him out. “You said it so casually, and I, well, I hadn’t been in a good place. For a long time it was one of the few things I truly knew about you. There was so much I never asked, so much I selfishly ignored. I’ve wanted to say that for seven years now, finally got my chance. I’m sorry I don’t have a present.”

Wrapping him in a tight embrace, the bond conveyed what words couldn’t: a kittenish mix of affection, amusement, and melancholy.

Astra’s cheek rested against his collarbone and she nuzzled him a moment before turning her eyes up to his, gold melding with gold. A part of her wanted to be painfully sentimental, to say that him being here was enough, but rather she grinned, cupping the side of his face in her hand, tilting him down towards her. “I can think of so many presents you can give me, and in so many positions.

Blood immediately shot to Cael’s cheeks turning nearly as crimson as she was. Never was he going to get used to that teasing from her; or control the way he reacted to it.

Astra laughed, a charming and heartened purr, dragging him closer to press an adoring kiss to his lips. She felt his affection surge down their bond in time with his arms drawing her ever closer.

Breaking for air, Cael’s cheeks still scarlet, she laughed once more, overcome by the swelling of emotions in her heart and the breathlessness in her lungs. “You being here is enough.” Okay maybe she could be a bit cliched. “But if it’s really so pressing, I find my legs are just not strong enough to stand, you’ll have to carry me around all day.”

Cael smiled broadly, swooping in to kiss her with the same motion that swept her up into his arms. There was not removing the doe-eyed tenderness from his eyes and foolish grin off his face. Stars, how he loved her. “I think that can be arranged.”

#my writing #cael sorrin #otp: for your eyes only #happy birthday im shit at doing anything on time lol

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