#at least the gifs i reblogged ten years ago still exist but damn it

[mandos-lightningbeforethunder]

Start Again - Chapter One (Din Djarin x Reader)

SUMMARY: Luke Skywalker wasn't the only one searching the galaxy for force-sensitive beings. And he was a hell of a lot nicer. You were sure of these visions. They told of a forgotten life and explained the cracks in your memories. Perhaps employing the lone Mandalorian may help you put the pieces together.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: brief mention of torture, discussion of memory loss

Author’s Note: First time posting on both tumblr and AO3 (fic is cross-posted). Feel free to reblog! Other chapters will be linked as the story progresses. Enjoy!

CHAPTER ONE - THE MEMORY

“Castin!”

A boy, no more than ten, turned at the voice of his mother calling him. He was jovial, playing in the riverbed. His clothes will be soaked if I don’t stop him, you thought.

“These men want to speak to you!” Perhaps that would get his attention.

Behind you, three men stood, watching the child as he bound toward his mother. The boy quickly hid behind your skirts, suddenly shy. Castin was almost to your chest now, yet in the presence of strangers, he still acted like a toddler. One of the men crouched to his level, offering a rock.

“Your mother tells me of your abilities,” one of the men hums out.

Castin nods. You watch as the man reaches into his pocket, pulling out a simple stone.

“Show me,” he requests. Castin looks to you, unsure. You nod, offering him a smile to encourage him. You had heard whispers around the galaxy, the Empire defeated and a young Jedi searching for more like him.

Holding the stone between his pointer finger and thumb, the man waits for Castin. His face contorted in concentration, Castin pulls the stone towards him into the palm of his outstretched hand.

The three men hum in admonishment. At such a young age and already showing promise, you hear one murmur. Castin smiles at you, practically beaming from excitement.

“We would like to speak to you about possible schooling if you wouldn’t mind?” The man rises from the ground, offering you a smile.

“Yes, of course. Castin can go back to playing, yes?” You ask, not wanting to bore your son. The man simply nods, turning to walk to your village. You walk just behind the man, passing his two colleagues before you hear the ignition of a saber.

The nightmare has been longer than others. However, the faces remain blank to you. The reminder of what was lost, just in front of you, and yet you hardly remember it. There are whispers about it, about your survival and broken memories.

Staring up at the ceiling of your hut, you closed your eyes to try and engrain the nightmare. Fold it into other nightmares and visions, hoping to fill in the blank spaces in your mind. It did little to help what was left of your memory, however. All you knew, is you had a lost life somewhere out there. The voice in that nightmare was your own.

Someone calls your name. Opening your eyes, you again see the ceiling of your hut and rise from your cot. The twin suns leak sunlight into your hut to signify that it was time for morning chores.

Another shout of your name.

“Just a moment!” You shout back, turning to the bowl next to your cot. You splash the water onto your face, rousing yourself. The creak of your door startles you from drying your face.

“Valara! What have I told you about sneaking up on her?” an elder woman, standing just outside your door, chastises.

“Sorry grandmother,” Valara says, before turning to you. She sees the look on your face and calmly shuts the door behind her. “Did you have another nightmare?”

You only nod, drying your hands before placing the cloth next to the bowl.

“You know there are remedies for that,” Valara suggests.

“I know,” you murmur, “but I’m not ready.”

“You choose to suffer?” She asks. You know she means well. She has been there through your worse ones.

“I had a son,” you turn to her, your eyes meeting hers for the first time this morning. “In this nightmare. I had a son. He couldn’t have been older than ten, I think. His face was a blur, but he was mine. I know that.”

Valara stares at you, her mouth slightly slack in shock. She blinks and is quickly set back in reality. She moves closer to you, placing her hands on your biceps as a means of comfort.

“Are you sure? Wait, no, I mean, I believe you. Your memory has been returning and it looks promising. I just,” she pauses, looking away from you before her eyes meet yours again, “I don’t want your conscious to confuse you with false memories. My grandmother told me your brain uses it to protect you.”

“I know what I saw, Valara,” you state in a firm tone. “It was me, my voice in that nightmare. Not something my conscious could just conjure up.”

Valara’s hands fall to her side, nodding at your words. You can see the gears turning in her head, she’s unsure of what to say.

“There are chores to do. Maybe that will take your mind off things before you have another session with my grandmother,” Valara states, turning away from you. She walks toward the door, before turning to look over her shoulder. She then leaves without another word.

You ponder her words. There were chores to complete. The same chores you had been doing since you first arrived in Valara’s village. You needed change. Something different than this village and its secrets. The constant sessions with Valara’s grandmother were only taking a toll on you. Your memory was improving and yet you felt as zero progress had been made.

Opening the door to your hut the twin suns quickly beat down on you. The winter season, a mere two weeks, had come and gone on Puvo. The grassland planet’s ecosystem only called for summer and spring seasons, with the occasional winter season that came every once in a millennium.

Valara was just ahead of you. Kneeling over the riverbed, she washed the dirt off the leaves of Puvo’s native plant. Known for its healing properties, villages like Valara’s sold the leaves in droves. It was shipped across the galaxy, reaching the far ends of the universe. Valara’s grandmother had used it when you had first arrived, bleeding with a shattered mind. Although the leaves healed the physical wounds, your mind remained in the state you had first arrived in.

You knew only your name and parts of your life before. You didn’t even remember the victory of the Rebels. Valara had to catch you up on the last six months, easing you into the current state of the universe. There was no war, none at Puvo at least, and the galaxy remained peaceful.

You kneel beside Valara, scooping a couple of leaves from her pile, and begin washing them in the flowing water.

“I want to leave,” you whisper to her. Her head jerks to look at yours.

“Leave?” she asks. “You know you can’t do that, not without my grandmother’s permission. Your head…it’s not in the right place for you to go out on your own.”

“I know. That’s why you’re going to help me,” You say, looking at her. Her face is contorted in confusion before the realization hits her.

“No,” she states, shaking her head. “I can’t let you do that.”

“Valara,” you start, “I can’t be here any longer. I know my mind isn’t where it needs to be but being stuck on this planet—” Valara splashes you, stopping your words.

“You’re asking me to sneak you off Puvo,” she reminds you. You nod and she sighs, looking away from you.

“I need change. Puvo and its people, you and your grandmother have treated me with nothing but kindness since I first arrived. Your grandmother helped me piece parts of my mind back together. But staying here could mean years before we make any more progress.” At this point, your tone comes off as pleading.

“Why so sudden? What did you see in that nightmare?” Valara asks, “You’ve been here for nearly a year now and we’ve just put together your earliest memories. Leaving Puvo could mean never recovering other memories. You know, pre-Empire memories.”

Right. The Empire no longer existed and instead, the New Republic stood in its place. A new era of peace.

“Valara. That nightmare…that’s more than I’ve ever seen before. The faces may have been a blur, but I know in my heart that I have a son out there. I don’t even know if he remembers me at this point, but I need to try and at least find him.”

Valara murmurs your name, placing a hand on yours. You take a deep breath.

“You came to us a year ago. Broken, bloody, babbling incoherent things. Grandmother didn’t think you’d survive the night. Stars, whoever or wherever you came from, they tortured you. Don’t you understand?  You’re safer here. There’s a possibility if you have a son out there, the people that did those things to you…they don’t want you finding him.”

“Valara,” you say.

“Don’t, don’t ‘Valara’ me. You say it in that stupid voice of yours and suddenly I melt. Stop it.” She demands, glaring at you. You can see the conflict in her eyes. She means well, she wants to protect you and keep you safe from the people that harmed you.

“What if you came with me?” you offered, taking another leaf from her pile. She shakes her head, focusing instead on the task at hand.

“What if I took a communicator with me? Check-in with you every week or so?” This time, Valara pauses in her work. She looks at you again, placing the leaves down in the basket next to her.

“Those communicators are for transport crews only. They’ll notice when one is missing. And how do you expect to get out of here? The only ships that regularly arrive and depart are those janky old transport ships and they can barely fit a load of Puvion leaves.”

A bag of credits lands next to her basket and she looks up at you.

“Where did you get those?” She demands, snatching the bag and peering inside. You can see her counting the amount.

“I’ve earned them,” you say, taking the bag from her with gentle hands. “Turns out loading those janky old transport ships earn quite a bit of them.”

“Damn it,” Valara curses, but she smiles. She seems proud. “What are you planning on doing with those credits? Bribing your trip to another planet?”

“No. There’s an old watering hole a couple of kilometers from here. From what I’ve read, there’s a couple of travelers who come through and pick up any stragglers in exchange for information or…credits.”

“So, bribery,” Valara deduces. You give a sheepish smile as she rolls her eyes. “Where will you get the communicator?”

“You know that one transport crew? The one with that pilot who thinks he’s the shit?” Her eyes widening is a signal that she knows exactly who you’re talking about.

“Nope. I’ve heard enough. I’m not becoming an accessory to your crimes. You’re crazy.” Valara rises from the riverbed, brushing her hands on her pants. You quickly set aside your leaves and pocket the credits, rising to follow her.

“It’s not becoming an accessory. I just need a favor. His crew arrives tomorrow at the same time as the last. He won’t even notice it’s gone.”

Valara stops, pinching her nose in frustration. She seems to be going over your words, processing them and what they could mean.

“My grandmother is going to kill me…” she sighs. You grin, ready to celebrate but she stops you with her hand. “No, no, you’re getting the communicator yourself. I’m stalling for you, so my grandmother doesn’t wonder why you missed a session.”

You hug her and her surprise is visible. Affection is not lost of the native Puvion, but it’s rare coming from you.

“Thank you,” you say, and she rolls her eyes, returning the hug in a begrudging manner.

Read Chapter Two - The Journey here!