#and also spent a lot of time camping while he was growing up so Cara is used to roughing it he just Doesnt Like To

[youareunbearable]

Tonight is a great night to think fondly on Haleth and Caranthir. I think they would make such a funny couple.

Imagine??? The Big Tall Broody Scowling Kinslayer Who Is Also The One Reason The Economy Is Functioning At All Between The Different Races/Elvish Factions Who Probably Is Dying To Tell King Thingol/His Cousins To Fuck Off At Any Given Moment and hes looming over this short human lady??

This short human lady that Can, Will, and Already Has told him to pull the stick out of his ass and bullies him into doing normal townsfolk chores??? Lord Carathir, Master Economist and a Weaver with the skill to rival his grandmother, sitting there and darning socks cause his tiny mortal wife told him too. His reward will be a kiss on the cheek but she'll scold him while he does it because he said a mean thing about his Cousin Finrod in his last letter to her while he KNEW Finrod was visiting her.

Only three things in the world keep Caranthir in check: His Eldest Brother, The Lord Himring, The Current Head of the Feanorian Faction of Noldor, and Former High King; the idea that if he didn't complete his brothers' tax paperwork and run the Trade Routes then the Nolofinweans and Arafinweans would become more economincally important And We Cant Have That; and his 4'11 wife he met bloodied and wrathful on a battlefield screaming at an orc over the corpse of her brother-- it was love at first sight

[mandos-lightningbeforethunder]

Start Again - Chapter Six (Din Djarin x Reader)

SUMMARY: Arriving on Orus, Din learns more about the girl and forces himself to make a choice when the planet isn’t so welcoming after all. 

CHAPTER WARNINGS: discussion of sexism/gender roles, canon-typical violence, non-consensual touching, mention of blood, and panic attacks/anxiety attacks. 

Author’s Note: This chapter sits at 3k words! It’s the longest chapter yet and a lot happens! I would also like to give credit to @kyberpistol​ for starting the headcanon of haunted!Din. I love the concept and I felt like I could use it in my story. Please heed the warnings. Feel free to like and reblog! 

CHAPTER SIX - THE FIGHT

Landing on Orus is difficult, the terrain is not suitable for ships of Idrionna’s size. Din should’ve known that the moment Cara suggested the planet to him, but it was the first suitable planet on the list. It was also the closest, so fuel was not a concern.

When they arrived, the suns had already set over Orus, making the trek to the city of Opseg dangerous. A drop in the canyon could be hidden in the darkness, leaving them with no choice but to set up a camp for the night. Din knew that the girl would rather not sleep in the cot on Idrionna, at least for one night. Not that the sand was any more comfortable, but for at least one night it could be.

“It’s a bit of a drop,” The girl says, peering down the canyon below their feet. Even in the darkness, Din could see the dip in the edge of the canyon. Her voice echoes off the walls, giving Din an idea of just how far the drop was. Couldn’t have been more than a couple hundred feet, he thinks.  

“It is,” Din says, looking across from where they’re standing. He could see the bustling city of Opseg just on the horizon. It had a medcenter, big enough to take in the girl for a physical examination without a long waiting time.

Cara had mentioned that Orus had been overlooked by the Empire. An old mining planet, when the Empire had arrived to steal the planet’s profit, they found that the mines had been wiped clean by a flood. Locals had called it a “hundred-year storm”, which had wiped out half the population as well as all the loot. With no profit to be made, the Empire sought other planets. Since then, Orus had been running an underground mining operation, making millions of credits in a single day alone. Once a ghost town, Opseg was on the up and coming. The city was expanding by the day, housing a growing population enriched by the planet’s rare ores.

“It’s beautiful,” The girl murmurs. Din turns, his eyes catching the lights of the city. It glows in the darkness of the surrounding landscape, making it all the more beautiful. He glances back up at the girl, catching the light just glimpsing off her face.

Despite her suffering, she was still full of life. The way her face contorted in excitement as she merely stared at the city ahead of her. Her entire life was stolen from her, yet she still saw the universe in the same innocence a child would. Shaking himself out of his daze, Din takes one more look at the city, before turning to start the fire.

“You didn’t get off Puvo much?” He asks, collecting enough firewood to keep them warm for the night. It was their luck that the wind hadn’t been terrible, a light breeze to keep the embers of the flame away from their faces, but not enough to put the fire out. Surprising luck for a mountainous planet.

“I wasn’t allowed to,” she replies, her voice distant. He turns to see her still staring at the city ahead of her. “Tatooine was my first. I had to convince Valara to let me go off-world. When I first started venturing out on my own on Puvo, I was told going off Puvo wasn’t an option. They were worried that if the Empire found out I was still alive, they’d come and finish the job.”

“They were probably right,” he says, igniting his flamethrower to start the fire. Although meant for combat, it usually came in handy when fires needed to be started quickly. Din watches as the flames jump, licking up the wood.

“They were,” she sighs, “But eventually I needed answers. So, I employed that pilot and then I found you. You’re the only one who’s willing to help me.”

Din pauses, looking back over her. Her focus remains on the city, but this time her face was troubled. Conflicted, perhaps, over the thought of leaving the only home she had ever known. She had left the one safety net protecting her from the Empire all in the name of seeking out answers that may not even exist.

“Besides, washing plant leaves on Puvo wasn’t what I wanted.” She chuckles, shaking her head, “I knew the work that was expected of me, but I wanted something more. Everyone thought I was too fragile.” She mumbles, shaking her head.

“Too fragile for what?” Din finds himself asking. He watches as she joins him by the fire, leaning against her pack.

“I don’t know…work that wasn’t just washing leaves and preparing them for transport.” She laments, looking up at the constellations above. “I stole a communicator off a pilot back on Puvo. It was so easy. The pilots that fly in, they’re so full of themselves. I let him talk about himself and he didn’t even notice it was missing.”

“You stole a communicator?” He asks. It’s not a surprise that she was able to steal one so easily. Most of the pilots he had come across in the New Republic Era were cocky, thinking themselves as the best of the best. In reality, had they been flying when the Empire was still in power, they probably would’ve never left the ground on any planet.

“I did,” she chuckles, “Valara couldn’t believe it, but I think she knew deep down I was capable of more. Over time she knew I was growing bored of the same chores we did every day.”

“What did you want?” Din finds himself asking, looking at her as she sits up. Her eyes look to the fire and Din admires the way the light of the flames flicker off her skin.

“The war was over and Puvo had been at peace for a while. Didn’t mean that they weren’t prepared for something. I saw the training that the soldiers went through. If the boys wanted to, they could go off to receive training. Puvo is a traditional planet, the women stay home for the families and the men work. I wanted to train, Valara blamed it on the post-traumatic stress but at the time, it was all that I could think about. I was so angry at the Empire after I found out what they had done to me, I wanted revenge and I thought learning to fight might help.” The girl shrugs, tossing a couple of sticks she had gathered into the fire.

“What stopped you?” He asks. Twisting a vibroblade between his fingers, he carefully begins to carve at the end of the stick, sharpening the edge.  

“On Puvo, if you’re a woman wanting to fight, a council has to rule in majority favor to let you train. Valara could count on one hand the number of times a woman had been allowed and she didn’t have much hope for me. I guess she was right, the council voted overwhelmingly against me. Something about how my head wasn’t in the right place and I wasn’t fit to serve.” The girl sighs, wringing her hands together as she looks toward the horizon again. “But the more time I spent with Valara’s grandmother, I realized that I was more hellbent on revenge than actually healing. If they had let me train and fight, I probably would’ve been killed.”

“Do you still want to? Learn to fight, I mean,” Din asks, watching as her head turns to face him again. After a beat of silence, she nods.

“I’m better than I was before,” she murmurs, “I know my head still isn’t in the right place but I don’t care about revenge anymore. I just want Castin back.”

A wave of emotions hit him. Emotions he hadn’t felt since that day he watched Grogu go off with the Jedi. It had been the same words Din had said to Gideon, he didn’t care about power or money, he just wanted Grogu back safely. Nothing mattered more to him at that moment, just that Grogu was in his arms and away from the fist of the Empire.

“You going to teach me, Mando?” She teases, obvious in her tone that she’s not serious.

“I could,” Din breathes, watching as her eyes widen. She may have not been serious about the offer, but if they were going to be searching for her son, she was better off knowing a few things to protect herself.

“You’d do that?” She clarifies, still unsure if his offer is real.

“It’s safer for you to know how to protect yourself. I could teach you a few things in self-defense. I’m surprised they didn’t teach you anything on Puvo.” Din says, looking up as she bites her lip.

“Puvo is about tradition. Men fight so the women don’t have to.” She reminds him and he hums at her statement. “Not to mention they never expected me to leave. Here I am, systems away,” she laughs, and Din chuckles too.

“I’ll take the first shift,” Din tells her. She nods, pulling the poncho over her shoulders as she lays her head against her pack. He watches as she turns over, facing the illuminated city.

“Mando?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.”

Din hums, smiling underneath the helmet as he fiddles with the vibroblade, continuing to sharpen the stick in his hand. He would need to make two so that he’d be ready to teach her first round of self-defense by morning. He tries brushing off the feeling that manifests from her words.

“Get up.”

Din wakes up to a voice that does not belong to the girl. When his eyes open behind the helmet, the barrel of a weapon stares right back at him. Not moving, he eyes the camp and sees that the girl sits defeated, hands cuffed in front of her.

“I said get up Mandalorian! What are you, deaf?” The voice demands again. Looking past the barrel, he stares at a Devaronian. His face contorted in clear anger, a snarl on his lips just barely hiding the sharpened teeth.

Slowly, Din sits up from his position and with the shove of the barrel, he stands. Raising his hands, he watches as the Devaronian’s partner, another Devaronian, lifts the girl up by her cuffs, growling at her to stand. Din can see the swelling just below her eye, hinting that there had been a scuffle before he had been woken up.

He chastises himself, knowing he should’ve taken the last shift instead of the first. Or maybe he should’ve taken both, in order to protect the girl better. And how could he have slept while she struggled? Din curses himself as his hands are placed in front of him and cuffed.

“Quite the loot, ain’t it, Zek?” The Devaronian behind him says, chuckling to himself.

“Ah well, we still have to decide what to do with them, Vroth.” Zek huffs, rolling his eyes. His yellow eyes turn gleeful as the girl continues to struggle in his grip and Din sneers as Zek sniffs at her hair.

“Keep your hands off her.” Din demands, stepping forward. He’s stopped by Vroth, his blaster jamming into his lower back just underneath his armor.

“Ah, ah, I make the demands here, Mandalorian. You’re the one in cuffs.” Vroth smirks, “You’re the only one of value here, beskar is still of some worth on the market. The girl is just an added bonus.”

“We’re not here to cause trouble—” The girl says, interrupted by a blaster butting against her face. The thump of her hitting the ground angers Din, but he knows that he has no control here. Not at the moment at least.

“Don’t make me hurt your pretty face again,” Zek snaps, pulling the girl up again. The daze in her eyes is clear as she leans against the Devaronian for balance. Zek seems to appreciate it as he holds her, taking another sniff of her hair. “She smells so good, Vroth. I should keep her to myself.” He licks his lips, smirking when Din tenses.

“Just a moment,” Vroth spits out, focusing his attention on Din. They care more about his armor and the credits it will bring them.

“You won’t find anyone willing to buy my armor.” Din says, “Orus has their own resources, they’ll overlook your highly-priced beskar and look the other way.”

Both Zek and Vroth seem to pause as the statement, looking to each other for their next move. Din takes the time to study the girl again, watching her as she sways. She’s too out of it to contribute to the fight, but now, more than ever she needs to see a doctor. He’ll have to take the Devaronians on alone.

Their strength is the one thing they have against him, as well as the cuffs around his wrists. Looking around the camp, they haven’t ransacked his weapons yet or found the girl's credits. Good, he thinks, they’re too tied up in the armor to survey who they’re actually going against. They knew he was a Mandalorian, but Din’s more than aware now that not all those who wear the armor are actual Mandalorians.

“I’ll take the girl!” The arguing takes Din out of his thoughts and he watches as the two snap at each other, Zek pulling the girl close to him once again. Vroth marches over, removing his blaster from underneath Din’s armor, presumably to argue with his partner over who will take the girl. Din has to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

Catching a glimpse of her behind the mass of Zek, Din notices the blood crusted on her forehead, just within her hairline from where the blaster broke the skin. He seethes with anger at the thought of them hurting her. The dazed look in her eyes only tells him that he needs to act now.

The cuffs hang loose around his wrists, clearly meant for a creature of a bigger size. With the two Devaronians distracted by the girl, he slips his wrists out of them. The blaster at his hip is gone, probably confiscated while he was still asleep. The beskar spear had been left on the ship, leaving Din with the one weapon he refused to use. The dark saber.

Wrapping his fingers around the hilt of the weapon, he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Treat it like any other sword, he reminds himself. Save her and deal with the two mercenaries.

The ignition of the saber startles both Devaronians and the girl. Zek and Vroth’s faces turn into snarls, lips turning up as they bare their teeth at the threat. Din breathes out and moves first, swinging the saber up as Zek fires his blaster. The shot ricochets off the humming blade, burning a hole in Zek’s forehead, right between his horns. The thud of Zek hitting the ground fills Din with a certain satisfaction from a deep part inside himself. He suppresses the feeling and breathes out again, ready for the next move.

“Stop! Or I’ll shoot her!” Vroth demands. His hand quivers, the blaster wavering against the girl’s temple. Din stares at the girl as she looks up at him.

“I just killed your friend with his own blaster fire. Do you really want to try it out yourself?” Din asks, almost breathless with the adrenaline running through him. The saber hums at his side, awaiting the next move. Din still waits for a response from the Devaronian, the realization hitting Vroth that there’s no way out from this situation.

Din could choose to let him live, but that could lead to word getting out that he wielded the dark saber. It would send Bo-Katan into a frenzy trying to find him, believing him ready to fight for the saber simply because he used it.

“You bitch!” Vroth snarls and Din watches as the girl falls out of the way of the angry Devaronian, giving Din the opportunity. Vroth brings the blaster up, finger hovering over the trigger just as the blade slashes through the barrel.

In shock, Vroth stumbles back, tossing away the smoking blaster and reaching around for another. His scream pierces the air as he falls back into the canyon, a resounding thud echoing off the walls.

For a moment, Din stares in stunned silence. The saber recedes back into the hilt and Din clips it back to his belt, focusing his attention now on the girl.  

She’s sitting up in the sand, trying to remove the cuffs herself. Her breathing is shallow and the glaze over her eyes tells him that she’s panicking, in overdrive to get herself out of harm’s way.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he tells her, gently reaching out with his hand to ground her. “Let me take those off, okay?” He says. She offers her wrists to him and he carefully slides the cuffs off, tossing them aside.

“I’m sorry,” she says, “If I had just—”

“No, no, it’s fine. We handled it. It’s over. Just breathe. Can I take a look at your head? He hit you pretty hard,” He asks, watching as she winces and then nods. Her shock and adrenaline are wearing off, leaving her to feel the effects of her wounds.

Taking a gloved hand, Din cups her face, turning her face so that he can get a better look at the cut. It’s not deep, a simple bacta patch will repair the skin. The bruise under her eyes is another problem, it’s already swelling and he doesn’t have much to work with to stem the swelling.

Her hand swipes at her mouth, leaving a streak of blood behind on both her hand and the corner of her lips. It’s not her own.

“You bit him?” He asks, not sure if he should laugh.

“I did,” she murmurs, the usual glint in her eyes returning as she looks at him. “Didn’t taste very good.”

Din chuckles and sits back, reaching into his pack and pulling out a canteen of water for her to rinse her mouth and to wash away the crusted blood on her forehead. With the edge of his cape, he wipes the blood off as she spits the water out next to her.

“Should start that training soon,” Din mumbles, placing the bacta patch against her skin.

“You think?” she smirks and although she can’t see it, Din smiles underneath the helmet.

Read Chapter Seven - The Diagnosis here!