#din djaren x ofc

[lokischocolatefountain]

Guess

Fandom: Star Wars, The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: PG13, fluff

Word count:

Summary: A game of guessing goes right in every way for you and Din, your kind of friend, sort of boss.

A/N: Day 1 of my fic advent calendar and my first Din Djarin fic on here! Credits to my friend @lokislittlevalkyrie for co-creating the reader character and for our long conversations about her and Din. Keep checking the advent calendar Masterlist for more fics dropping this month. And leave me a little comment to encourage me to keep the fics going 💜💜💜

“Stop scowling.”

“I’m not scowling,” he lied, trying his best to keep his tone neutral even though he was surprised that she knew he was scowling. Lucky guess, he told himself. But how many lucky guesses could one person have about his facial expressions?

“You so were!” She insisted, sinking further back into the novelty ‘chair’ she bought on their last stop. It was a sphere half filled with tiny soft particles that molded itself to the user’s shape. She slouched on it as she continued watching one of her holodramas, something with a murder or speeders (or both) at the heart of the story.

“I was not.”

“If you say so, Din Can,” she said, using her nickname for him. He chuckled reflexively, unable to control his responses to her. Thankfully, his helmet filtered the sound out, saving him the embarrassment of finding humor in the humiliating nickname. He smiled, glad she didn’t know just how many times she’d made him laugh whether by mocking him or making clever remarks in general.

“I do say so.”

She was beautiful. Taking up the creed meant hiding one’s own face from others. To hide what would serve as the basis of others’ first impression of you so that your valor and your character would serve as your defining features. Vanity was not something he was raised with. Yet he knew beauty when it stared him in the eye and called him Din Can everyday. Or Tin Djarin. Buckethead when he really pissed her off.

Dinny Bear when she was intoxicated.

Blood rushed to his cheek when he thought of the last time she did that. She’d gotten very comfortable around him in the months they’d been crew mates. All her initial jitters and jumpiness around him had gone and been replaced with her stubbornness, strange sense of humour, and a level of confidence she didn’t have with him before.

He had to chase her down to even get her to accept the job he was offering her as a travelling mechanic. He’d never heard of one before. And she was quite frightened of him after the kind of interaction they had at Peli’s shop. But he needed a mechanic on board. With the kid in his hands now, it became hard to juggle a failing ship with hunting bounties and caring for a mischievous kid who waited for the moment he took his eyes off him to cause chaos.

It helped to have a mechanic on board at all times. She was wonderful and came approved by Peli. Over time, she became more than his mechanic. A friend, he would be brave enough to say. If he were braver with women, he would say that he’s caught her sneaking glances at him. That he felt her twinkling eyes rove over his armor every now and then. Sometimes he was confident of it. At others, he convinced himself that his mind was clouded by his desire for her. By his desire for her to desire him too.

The matter of his expressions came up once again later after dinner.

“Stop looking so grumpy.”

“You cannot see my face.”

“Yeah but you look grumpy.”

He grunted, turning away from her to focus on the controls. They were on hyperspeed. There was nothing he needed to do with the controls. But to come face to face with her when she told him exactly what he did underneath his helmet was…too much.

“Heyy! Let’s play a game?” She asked, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“Play with Grogu.”

“He’s asleep. And this is not a game for little potatoes.”

He chuckled softly at the nickname and looked up at her again, awaiting her proposal. “What would that be?” He asked.

“A drinking game.”

“Drinking is a game now?”

“Dank farrik! I missed when you used to be quiet. Just listen to me. I’ll guess what your face looks like under your helmet and if I get it right, you should take a sip of your drink. And if I get it wrong, I take a sip. Let’s do it with the Silver Elixir,” she said, getting up from her seat to fetch the bottle from their liquor cabinet they kept locked to keep away from wandering little womp rats.

She returned with the bottle, two glasses and straws. They’d recently taken to drinking together. She bought him a straw a begged him to join her, using her sweet eyes and her adorable pout to convince him. She said she only had drinks with friends and that drinking alone on the razor crest made her feel lonely.

He gave in to her, just like he gave in to their little green crewmate.

She didn’t need to use a straw, of course. Yet she did. When he asked, she said it was so that he didn’t feel lonely drinking through a straw like a kid. Even in her insults, she managed to be sweet.

“Start guessing,” he said impatiently as she sat next to him and looked intently at their glasses to see if they were filled equally.

“Sure, sure… You have dark hair,” she said, passing his drink to him. “Dark brown.”

“A little too obvious, isn’t it?” He asked, knowing she had definitely seen his hair in the trash after he gave himself haircuts and shaved his facial hair.

“Drink up, old man!” She said, lips wide in a grin as she knew already that she was right.

He snorted, but followed through, taking a sip of the strong liquor. “Alright. Next.”

“You have….big green ears.”

“Wrong,” he huffed, smiling nevertheless at her sense of humour.

“Damn it! I should’ve known they wouldn’t fit inside the helmet,” she said, taking a sip. She was smiling too, and unlike his, it was out in the open and as bright as the stars around them.

“Those were two descriptors. Big and green. Take one more sip,” he argued. He didn’t particularly want to get her drunk, but he liked how adorable she was when intoxicated. One of their drinking sessions ended with her snuggling up to him because she couldn’t find the kid to snuggle like a children’s stuffed animal.

“What? No! It was one guess, so it’s one sip.”

“Again, you guessed the size and color of my ears and they were both wrong. Take a sip.”

She rolled her eyes, but complained, taking another sip. She leaned close and narrowed her eyes at him, as though focusing on his helmet would reveal what was underneath. He smiled unconsciously, taking in the beauty of her from up close. The light in her eyes, the way her eyebrows knit together when she was in deep thought, lips that impressed him with the wittiest remarks… Lips he wanted desperately to pull to his, to devour and make moan his name.

“No moustache.”

“Hmmm….” He hummed, thinking of how he could sort the point for this. He *did* have a moustache, but that was only now. There were times when he shaved it off completely. “It’s complicated. I have a moustache now, but I change it quite frequently. So, half a sip.”

“If I have to take half a sip, so should you.”

“No, I don’t,” he scoffed at her warped logic. Here he was, being nice and giving her some credit even though she was wrong. But she was trying to take advantage of it.

“Yeah you should. If I’m taking half a sip because I was half right and half wrong, you should also take a sip because you’re half right and half wrong.”

“No. That’s not how it works. I have facial hair now, which means you are wrong. I should’ve made you take a full sip, but I decided to make a concession because I am sometimes fully shaven.”

“Dank Farrik! You’re such a lightweight. Just say you can’t handle your liquor and I’ll let you go,” she taunted, a smirk plying at her lips.

“Oh please, I can handle my liquor much better than you can. Here,” he said, drinking the strong undiluted alcohol like it was water in a few big sips. He slammed the glass against the control panel surface and shrugged. “See, I’m good. You are the one who gets drunk after one portion of the Silver Elixir and terrorizes the kid.”

She gasped, as though he made a much bigger accusation. “I don’t terrorize the kid! I just give him extra cuddles and kisses. He enjoys them very much. It’s called affection, Tin Can. Ever heard of it?”

He tilted his head at her in the way that sometimes made her swallow audibly. “So you think that because of my way of life, I have never experienced affection?”

She opened and closed her mouth quickly, as though her mind and lips were in disagreement about whether or not what they were about to say was appropriate. He smiled under his helmet, proud of himself for stumping her. She talked a lot. Since he was a quiet man, everyone else was talkative in comparison. But she was the voice he heard the most as they lived together on the Razor Crest and their other occupant communicated mostly in coos and squeals.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Say what. Since the drinking thing was already disproportionate anyway because I’m not guessing your features and I can handle my liquor much better than you do….lets change the rules.” He took a deep breath, afraid of the consequences of his words but unable to miss this opportunity. “For each correct guess you make, I’ll give you a kiss.”

“You’re kidding,” she said, scoffing.

“I’m not known for my humor.”

She took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. Kriff, the things she did without even knowing! He thought he could die from the anticipation of hearing her next guess. Would she guess something ridiculous like big green ears to make sure she doesn’t have to kiss him? Or would she make a very obviously correct guess?

“You have…” she trailed in a softer voice, looking at him almost coyly. “…pink lips.”

Not the most obvious guess. Not all humans had pink lips. And he could easily not be human. He didn’t remember telling her he was… But if she was going for something for a higher likelihood of being correct… Kriff he hoped she was. “Do you want me to turn the lights off or blindfold you?” He asked, conveying indirectly that she was right.

“Wh-whaaat? Why?” She sputtered, looking at him with those pretty eyes, vulnerability brimming in her expressions.

Did he get the wrong idea? Maybe her obvious guesses weren’t because she wanted to be right so she could kiss him… Maybe it was just the product of her usual playful nature.

“Because I will have to take my helmet off when I kiss you,” he proceeded to say, even as his heart beat faster with the anxiety of how this could go. They were adults. It it was a misunderstanding, he would simply get over it and do his best to not make it awkward between them. “And you cannot see me.”

“I…” she trailed off before letting out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“Again. Not known for my humor,” he said, letting a smile seep into his words. She was so kriffing adorable, looking all nervous like a blurrg stuck in a doorway. “You don’t have to, of course. I can give you something else. Ten credits, perhaps?”

“What, no. A deal is a deal.”

“Then tell me, my dear mechanic. Lights out or blindfold?”

“Lights out.”

Pity. He was hoping to see her pretty face when he kissed her. Not moving from where he was, he pressed the buttons on the control panel, turning all the lights out. In the pitch black of outer space, he could see nothing. Perfect.

“What can you see?” He asked, just to be sure.

“Nothing,” she said, in her voice so low and soft that it was swallowed up by the darkness. What entity wouldn’t want to swallow up something his pretty mechanic put out? Every word she said, every touch of her fingers against the trees and rocks and flowers. If he were air, he would luxuriate in her scent. If he were water, he would caress her skin and play with her hair as he cleansed her. If he were fire, he would creep into her skin, warm her up when she needed. But he was nothing but man. So, he would have to satisfy himself with a kiss from her lips.

“Are you sure?” She asked as he stepped forward to her.

“I am. Are *you* sure?”

There was silent for a moment before she said, “Yes. Kiss me.”

Needing nothing else, he took his helmet off and placed it carefully on his seat. His heart thudded against his ribs, and his breaths grew labored. And he hadn’t even touched her yet.

In all his years, he had never kissed anyone. It was not part of the culture of his people what with the metal barriers that kept them from it. He remembered the sweet kisses on his forehead and cheeks from before he took the creed. But that was not what his heart desired. He wanted the kind of thing she watched on her holopad, all the holodramas with characters who showed their desire through an intense kiss that left their partner speechless.

He reached forward and found her hand. She gasped softly, the quietness of the ship letting him in on her soft sounds. He caressed up her arm, enjoying the slight tremble of her skin beneath the tips of his fingers. He stopped at her neck and allowed himself to cradle it in his hand. He felt her lean closer and he reciprocated, taking the final step. He tilted his head to his right feeling that she tilted to her right.

As he closed the gap between them, he felt her warm breath on his skin. He swallowed, his lips parting from how nervous he was. What if he was no good? What if he didn’t have good breath? What if he’s such a bad kisser that she— he gasped softly as she pressed her lips against his. In an instant, she quietened the sounds his head. The fast beating of his heart, he realized was now from the effect of proximity to her more than his insecurities.

She placed one hand on his shoulder and wrapped her other arm around his waist. He let out a shaky breath at the intimacy of their contact and let his other hand trail down her back. She pressed herself closer against his beskar clad chest, making him wish he had the forethought to toss that bit of his armor too. He wanted to feel her. Every bit of her that she was offering up to him like she truly believed he was deserving.

Her lips were soft, just as he’d dreamt them to be. He’d never kissed before. It was an act saved for married couples in the covert, as only your spouse could see you with your helmet off. He had married friends who waxed poetry about the magic of kissing. How they felt like nothing and nobody mattered other than your partner. How it turned you into putty in their hands. He thought it was exaggerated… Until now.

He cupped her cheek, her face fitting in his hand and making him feel a new sense of protectiveness towards her. He’d protected her before, sure, but this felt different. This was something to do with a need to be gentle with her. To cherish her and treasure her. She licked his lips and he parted them instinctively, letting her tongue between his lips. He shuddered as her fingers threaded through his hair. He whimpered and pulled her closer to himself in the moment of vulnerability, using her as a crutch to support him. He’d never been touched like that before…

Her fingers explored his hair and he allowed himself to relax in his arms, even letting himself give her comforting caresses of her back. He felt her melt into his arms as their kiss deepened. She tasted of the silver elixir first, but when they were both a little along the way, he began to taste something that was distinctly her. Something sweet, mixing with the fragrance of her citrusy perfume to further dull his senses.

It was soft, but electrifying. He poured his passions into the kiss, exploring her with his tongue and luxuriating in the sweet little whimpers she let out. The technicalities stopped mattering. He was here, holding the girl he’d been pining for, lips connected as the unlikely result of a stupid game. That moment was all that mattered and her sounds of satisfaction told him that he wasn’t doing so bad after all.

She pulled back in a while and they let out the breaths they’d be holding. She let out a laugh and he smiled, comforted by her job. He didn’t even know he’d been holding his breath. He’d forgetting the necessity for breathing as he found her lips.

“You have…a big nose,” she said, confusing him.

“Huh?” He asked, his mind still clouded from her kiss.

“I get another kiss if I’m right, Dim Djarin,” she teased, pointing to his obliviousness when it came to things of this nature.

“Right,” he said, grinning as he kissed her again. He needed to play games with her more often.

[leylinefiction]

The Mandalorian: Broken

Summary: Moff Gideon has escaped from the custody of the Republic and Grogu is in danger of being retaken. In an effort to protect him, Luke sends him into hiding with Ren Vanth, a Force user that had wished to become a Jedi. While protecting the child, Ren finds that there is more to the universe than Jedi, Bounty Hunters, and Mandalorians. People are not so easily defined and creeds are sometimes made to be broken.

Rating: Mature (violence and sexual themes)

Chapter One: The New Arrival

“We just got word from Garsa Fwip that the Sanctuary had two interesting guests arrive today.”

Boba Fett looks up from the communications that have come in overnight from the various districts to see Fennac Shand standing in front of him. He could use a distraction at the moment. “What kind of ‘interesting’?”

She smiles slightly. “A little green creature with big ears kind of interesting.”

“Ah,” he closes down the communications and stands from the table. “I’m assuming the second guest is Mando then?” He pauses. “Or is it a Jedi?”

Shand’s smile disappears. “Neither. His traveling companion is a woman, badly injured and on death’s door. I figured we should head over there and pick up Grogu before someone else takes advantage of the situation.”

“And contact Mando. If the Jedi were unable to protect the child then I’m sure he would want to know of the circumstance.”

Shand places her helmet over her head and picks up a rifle. “This could bring him back to Tattooine when we could use his skill.”

Fett nods in agreement as he too picks up his helmet and slides a blaster into his holster. “We certainly could use some muscle. We have some time though before the Pike Syndicate has enough power to prove a real threat.”

“Better to be prepared ahead of time than scrambling at the last minute.”

She makes a solid point, one that he muses on during the trip to Mos Espa. Gathering muscle may cause suspicion on the community leader’s side so if he does start hiring people, it needs to be kept quiet. It’s taken much more skill to earn the trust of the community and he doesn’t want to lose the ground he’s made. The Sanctuary comes into view, Garsa Fwip standing at the doorway to greet him. She is dressed in her finests, as always, the midday sun glinting off her the metal adornments on her head, neck and wrists.

“Welcome, Daimyo,” she smiles in her effortless way. “How kind of you to grace us with your presence.”

“I heard you have some guests that I may know.”

Instead of going back into the establishment, Fwip steps out of the doorway and leads them into the alleyway that runs the length of the catina. There’s a small storage room with the door standing open, crates of fruit and vegetables spilling out into the alley.

“They’re in there.” Fwip motions to the open door. “We put the woman close to the cold storage just in case she..” Fwip flippantly waves her hand. “The little guy won’t leave her side.”

Fett steps into the doorway and finds a human woman propped up against the cold storage door. She’s unconscious, fever flushing her face. Her clothes are standard Corellian fare: boots, military issue pants, simple white shirt and a leather jacket. However, there are multiple blaster burns through them. There’s a slight movement down by her holstered blaster. The dim light is enough to reflect off the large dark eyes of Grogu.

“Hello, Little One,” Fett greets and reaches for the child. Thankfully, Grogu willingly allows himself to be picked up. He is resistant to being handed off to Shand, but Fett tries to soothe him. “I need to pick up your companion, Little One. She needs help too, no?”

That seemed to be the right thing to say as Grogu settled into Shand’s elbow. He turned back to the woman, inspecting the blaster wounds. “Fwip, did your people do this?”

“No,” she answers from the doorway, “she had them when she entered the establishment.”

“She walked in on her own,” Fett muses, “that’s promising to her survival. Did you get a name?”

“One of the serving droids thought he heard her say her name was Ren.”

“Ren,” he repeats but there is no response. She’s tall for a standard human female, mostly due to long legs. Despite her height, she’s light when he lifts her off the floor. When he passes by Fwip, he asks her, “Does she owe anything to your establishment?”

Fwip waves her hands delicately. “Paid in full when she ordered. The little one ate some broth while we waited for you to arrive.”

Fett nods as he continues down the narrow alley, carefully maneuvering around boxes and crates. She may have felt light when he first lifted her but by the time they reach the speeder, she feels much heavier. He lays her out in the back bench of the vehicle before turning back to Fwip.

“Thank you again for letting us know of the…situation.”

“There’s one more thing,” Fwip said, producing a smooth cylinder from the billowing sleeve of her dress. “She had this on her person. I took it when she passed out. I didn’t want anyone in the bar getting their hands on it. Curiosity tends to kill the loth cat.”

“Indeed.” Fett takes it in his hand and turns it over thoughtfully. There is no grip or design to the metal, however he does find a hidden, recessed button on one side of the device. A lightsaber. “So she is a Jedi.”

“And Jedi,” Fwip says, “living or dead are not good for business during these times.”

“I promised you your business would continue to thrive while I am Daimyo and I will keep that promise.”

Fwip bows elegantly. “My patronage and I both are in your debt for such a promise.”

Fett returns the bow and climbs into the passenger seat of the speeder, taking Grogu from Shand as she slides behind the wheel of the vehicle.

“I’m assuming she’s going to spend some time in the bacta tank?” Shand asks.

“Yes. Then maybe she can tell us how she and the little one came to be on Tattooine. I’ll take care of the bacta if you want to send a message to Mando.”

Grogu emits a hopeful noise at the mention of Mando. But then he climbs up the armor on Fett’s arm to gaze worriedly into the backseat.

“We will help her,” Fett assures him. “I promise.”

Shand frowns as she chances a look behind her. “I’d be careful of making promises like those if I were you.”

***

Flashes of light blind her, bright blood red bolts of plasma. There is sharp pain as some of them connect. She lifts her lightsaber but the assault is too much, too rapid. She glances down and sees the bright, scared eyes of Grogu. Her charge. She must protect him at all costs. Tactics need to change. She spins the saber with one hand to block as many shots as possible as she moves a chunk of metal with her other hand and drops it between her and her attackers. They’re safe and everything goes dark after that.

She tries to take in a breath but the air is stale and metallic. She opens her mouth and finds there’s a device in it. Her hand is strapped down and she can’t lift it to remove the device from her mouth. She forces her eyes open and discovers she’s submerged in water. No, not water; bacta. She’s in a bacta tank. That calms her momentarily until she realizes she doesn’t know where Grogu is and starts tugging at the straps around her wrists.

A machine springs to life and she can feel the vibrations through the bacta. A man, bald and clean shaven appears over the tank and peers down at her with dark eyes. He motions to her to stay still and mouths words to her but she can’t hear or understand what he’s saying as the bacta is being drained from the tank. Once the liquid is gone, the machine quiets. There is still a pane of glass separating them as they stare at each other.

“You’re safe,” he says and she can finally hear him. “I’m going to open this capsule and help you out. Do you understand?”

She nods but also reaches out with the Force. He is well-meaning, curiosity being the main motivation driving his actions, so she relaxes as best she can. The glass pulls away and he removes the ventilator first, giving her a cursory glance.

“Are you going to fight me when I undo these restraints?”

“No,” she rasps out. “Grogu?”

“He’s safe and under my protection,” he leans over and undoes her right wrist. “As are you.”

The bacta is enough to start the healing process but it doesn’t completely heal her. She is still at this stranger’s whim. “Who are you?”

He undoes her left wrist and helps steady her as she sits up from the bed of the tank. “I am Boba Fett.”

She almost throws up on his boots.

He gives her a tight smile. “My reputation proceeds me, I assume from your pallor. Who was it that I brought in?”

“A friend.” She swallows down her unease. “Han Solo.”

“I thought so,” he says as he pulls her lightsaber from his belt. “There are not too many people in the galaxy with one of these. Are you one of Skywalker’s students?”

Now that she’s out of the tank, despite the heat of Tattooine, a chill shakes her. “Pseudo-student. It’s…complicated.”

“As are most things.” He sets the lightsaber down on the step by the tank and hands her a towel. She quickly wipes the sticky moisture from her skin. He picks up his robe and drapes it over her shoulders, taking the towel from her. She reaches down and picks up her lightsaber, watching for any type of reaction from Fett. He only nods in her direction, assuring her that he doesn’t perceive her action as a threat. She slides into the pocket of the robe and stands.

Her legs are shaky, and she has to lean on Fett as she descends the few steps to the main floor of the room. Standing on her own, she pulls the robe closer around her. The chill is dissipating, and strength is starting to come back to her muscles. “How long was I out?”

“It’s been two days since you arrived at the Sanctuary.”

She looks around the room and realizes it’s most likely his personal quarters. There is, of course, the bacta tank, a bed, a small table and a couple chairs. It feels personal and private. Judging from the view from the large open windows, they are high off the ground. The rounded walls and centered-pitched ceiling tell her it is most likely a tower. “Is that what this is?”

“You don’t remember?”

She thinks back to the vision she had in the tank. “I remember the attack. The droids…trying to protect Grogu. Where is he?”

Fett smiles, a tinge of softness to the gesture. “He’s most likely in the kitchen eating anything that is moving. I believe some of my people may have found a few toads in the market and have them on hand for him. You should know we have contacted his former…guardian. He should arrive today.”

She takes a deep breath. Luke had told her of the Mandalorian. Grogu himself had told her about him. Hell, her brother had told her about him. The idea that a confrontation could occur between the two of them over who had guardianship made her uneasy. In her recovering state, she wouldn’t be much of a match for a seasoned warrior in beskar.

“So, tell me,” Fett asks, extending his arm to help support her, “what is your name?”

She takes it somewhat reluctantly. Her other option is to fall on the floor if her legs decide to give out. She would rather lean on him. “Ren. My name is Ren Vanth.”

“And what brings you to Tatooine?”

“My brother lives here, out on the fringes. I was trying to make it to his town so Grogu and I could stay off the radar.”

“Who’s radar specifically?”

Ren keeps her mouth closed. She already feels like she’s told him too much at the moment. He notices her wariness and nods.

“This is not my first time protecting this child. I understand the need for secrecy when it comes to his location and situation. However, if I don’t know who you are hiding him from, I won’t be able to properly protect either of you.”

He makes a good argument and considering her state at the moment, she relinquished that information as well. “Moff Gideon escaped the Republic’s custody.”

“I wish I could say that surprises me.”

He leads her down a few levels to a room with a long dining table. A woman is seated at one of the ends, her booted feet propped up on the table, and she’s drinking a dark liquid from an ornate goblet. Grogu is chasing a frog that is hopping all over the table. Ren gives him an annoyed look.

“What have I told you about playing with your food?”

The child looks mildly shamed before reaching his arms out in her direction, emitting a happy chirp. She sits down, tired and winded from the walk, and Grogu immediately comes to her, curling up in the folds of the borrowed robe. He purrs contentedly, laying one of his large ears close to her heart. “I know, I missed you too.”

She’s comfortable in the chair, feeling great relief at seeing Grogu safe, when she closes her eyes to relish in the moment’s peace. But as soon as she does that, Grogu’s head pops up and he lets out a loud squeal. It startles Fett and the woman but Ren feels Grogu’s emotion behind the noise: sheer, unadulterated joy. She slowly opens her eyes as Grogu wrestles his way out of the robe and starts scurrying across the table top towards the shiny newcomer in the doorway.

The Mandalorian has arrived.

[starl1ght-child]

Undeniable Force: Part 1 - The Meeting

The Mandalorian hires up a young mechanic to help maintain the Razor Crest and take care of the Child, unaware that she is almost totally blind and sensitive to the same Force as the Child.

my first star wars/the mandalorian fic! all feedback is appreciated~

word count: 2.9K | no content warning

The Mandalorian landed down on Dantooine, secured the Child in his pod in a hidden sleeping area before he disembarked and walked the mile and a half into the nearest town to resupply on food and get some repair materials for the Razor Crest.  He asked around if there were any mechanics in town looking for work, but most declined or turned him away.  He sat quietly on his own in a cantina, watching the crowds, and eyeing someone sitting quietly in the opposite corner tinkering with something in their hands, occasionally glancing his way.  They never looked right at him, but they were definitely watching.

He studied them, just as they were studying him.  Their face was hidden by the shadow of a hood, but from afar they seemed like a man. Small in stature, quiet, they kept to themself. Fingers worked on something in their hands that glinted silver and he noticed how quickly and seamlessly they worked.

Mando caught them staring again so he stood up from his chair and the person quickly averted their gaze.  Mando quickly crossed the room with long, confident strides and sat himself in the chair across the table.

“You’ve been watching me since I walked in,” Mando’s voice came out harsh through the modulator.  “Give me a reason not to take you outside.” 

“You’re a bounty hunter looking for a mechanic.”  Mando was surprised at the voice.  It was surprisingly feminine…  and when they finally looked up at him, he was taken aback by the wild chocolate curls that framed her face and high cheekbones beneath the hood, bright hazel eyes with oddly muted pupils, almost like they were clouded, and lightly tanned skin.  She slid what she was working on across the table.  “I heard you say to one of the guys at another shop that your internal environment stabilizer for your ship wasn’t working properly.”

Mando reached out and picked the piece of machinery off the table.  He inspected it closely.  “This won’t fit the Razor Crest.  It’s too small,” he criticized, but a moment too soon.

“Use the same wiring as the old one and the output is more stable and will last twice as long.  Smaller, more compact yes, but more efficient than what you have now.”

He watched her through the visor as she leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms over her chest.  She was very petite, yes, and Mando noticed the corner of her lips quirked upwards a bit.  

“Mechanic is only one part of the job,” he stated.  “I have a child in my care that needs tending to.”

“I’m sure I can help with that.  I had a baby sibling.”

“Had?”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and looked away from the man in front of her.  “I, uh, don’t see my family anymore.”

Mando studied her profile for micro expressions, but she was extremely hard to read.  “I can pay you handsomely, and you’ll likely be the Child’s sole caretaker as well as maintaining the Razor Crest.  If you’re game.”

She was quiet for a few moments as she pondered, and chewed on the inside of her cheek.  He studied her carefully while she thought.  “How handsome?”  She mused.

“Fifteen percent of all my quarries.”

He watched as she stopped chewing on the inside of her cheek and gave him a barely-there sly smile. “I’m game.  I’ve been dying to get off this planet anyway.”

Mando paused only for a moment before he picked up the satchel of supplies he had purchased throughout the day, tossed the woman the part she had just made, and said, “Then let’s go.  We’ve got a lot of ground to cover before dark.”

She caught the part without a sound and stood just as quickly, duffel of belongings in tow, and followed close behind the Mandalorian out of the cantina.

[lokischocolatefountain]

Daddy Issues

Other fic(s) in this series: Guess

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: PG13 for some smutty talk

Word count: 768 words

Summary: You and Din have Daddy issues— your dad hates him— but you both get past it for now.

A/N: Characters co-created with my friend @lokislittlevalkyrie. Check out their amazing Din fic. 💜

You kissed the top of his helmet, the cold beskar familiar to your lips. You shrieked as larger hands pulled you into bed and held you tight like you were one of Grogu’s soft squishy toys. You giggled at his enthusiasm and placed the box of food you’d brought him on your side table before settling into your mandalorian’s warm embrace.

“I brought breakfast,” you said, looking up at him from his chest. “Dad made a mixed vegetable fry.” From your vantage point, you saw a patch of the beard that still made your skin burn from how he kissed you. The bulge in his neck that wobbled when he spoke. His skin… Oh his skin that was soft and rough at the same time. All things he allowed you to see despite his strict adherence to The Way.

“He cooked for me? It’s definitely poisoned,” he said, his voice deep and gravelly from sleep.

“Oh, not you too!” You chastised, slapping his beskar clad chest lightly so as to not hurt yourself. Your dad had made it clear that he did not like the man you brought home. He was charmed by Grogu, as was your mom and little brother. But on the Din front, he was strongly opposed.

“What? He’s made it clear that he hates me,” he said, shrugging it off. You sighed and agreed with him, knowing he was right. The first thing your dad had heard about him was you sobbing into his chest over your break up. Things had gotten better and the two of you were back together. But your dad’s rage only continued to grow.

“Eat, okay? I’ll be back when you're done.”

“Don’t go…please,” he said softly, his vulnerability melting you.

“You need to eat, Din,” you attempted to reason even though you knew you would eventually give in to his request. Your separation had not been easy on either of you and now that you’d found each other again, you were determined to make the best use of every minute you had together.

“I’ll eat you,” he said, hand crawling up your thigh and sending shivers all over your body that made every hair on your arm stand up. “Your dad made you too and you’re definitely my favorite out of his creations.”

“Din!” You squealed, somehow shocked by his brazenness though all he had been throughout your relationship was brazen. A giggle escape you unconsciously but turned into an unattractive snort, making you bury your face in his chest.

“I need to have you, sweet girl,” he said as he explored your body. “I’m starving.”

“You had me last night, you sex fiend!”

“So?” He asked, head tilted. “Want you everyday. Twice. At the very least.”

“You won't have time for anything else,” you said, reasoning him out of his sweet delusions.

“That’s alright by me…” he trailed before removing his hands from you abruptly. You whined at the loss of contact even though you’d been the one who was trying to get him to eat so he would leave you to go eat with your family.

“Close your eyes,” he said, and you followed, eyes shutting out the world at his command as they’d become accustomed to do. It was a familiar one. You knew what came after. Shuffling, heavy metal against a surface— wood, your side table.

“Blindfold me,” You said, elated that he trusted you this way, yet doubting yourself. What if your curiosity got the better of you and you looked? What if you opened your eyes accidentally? You were never in control of your senses when you were drowning in his passion.

He returned with a piece of cloth, presumably from your wardrobe if you had to guess from his footsteps. He wrapped it around you, covering your eyes, and tied a knot in the back.

His lips found you and you kissed him back eagerly, searching his lips for your love, for the soft heart behind the hard beskar. He did not disappoint, pouring his passion into you, electrifying a part of you that you’d never felt before with anyone else. With the kiss, the insecurities of the past few hours melted away. It did not matter that you’d separated once. You found each other again. It did not matter that your dad did not like him. He would come to like him soon. It did not matter that he would be off-world to rebuild Mandalore and you would be right here, on your planet, far away from him.

Nothing mattered except the present. And at present, you were in bliss.

.

.

.

Advent Calendar Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[leylinefiction]

The Mandalorian: Broken

Chapter One: The New Arrival

Chapter Two: Serendipity

Chapter Three: A Stranger From the Desert

Chapter Four: Honor Among Thieves

Chapter Five: Beauty From Ashes

“Razor Crest!” Ren shouts into the holo device.

“I heard you the first time, for kriff’s sake!” The man on the other end of the holo throws his hands up in exasperation. “Ren, those things are kriffing antiques. You know how hard it is to find one that could actually break atmo?”

“I thought you were the best, Nils.” Ren shakes her head. “Let me talk to Evir instead. He’ll help me out.”

Cobb comes up to her side and leans into the projection window. “Forget Evir, get Mom. You know how Ren gets when she’s focused. She’s like a jawa in a junkyard.”

“Cobb!” Nils breaks into a wide grin. “You’re up and around!” He leans out of the projection and calls to the people around him. Soon, the holo keeps filtering through the faces of their seven other siblings. Ren stands back from the holo table in Boba Fett’s quarters so Cobb could be front and center for the well-wishes. There is a full-blown celebration down in the throne room in light of the Pyke’s defeat so Boba offered the quiet of his rooms for her and Cobb to contact home. Ren has a sneaking suspicion that Boba and Mando are hiding from the raucousness of the celebration by standing stoically on the balcony.

“Where’s your sister?” a soft voice comes over the holo.

Ren goes back and stands next to Cobb, careful to not bump into his injured arm. “Hello, Mom.”

Their mother’s kind face stares back at them and Ren is hit with a sharp desire to see her again. Caring for Grogu has given her a small taste of what it is like to be a mother and Ren’s appreciation for her mother, who managed to wrangle eight boys and one girl, has grown exponentially.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

Ren ducks her head, hoping the two most prolific bounty hunters in the galaxy didn’t hear the pet name. “I’m fine, Mom. How are you?”

“Worried.”

Ren knows better to dismiss the fear. She has reason to be worried. “I know.”

“Can I see him?”

Ren lifts Grogu out of the sling and holds him in front of the holo. “I swear, you only want to talk to me so you can see him.”

“Hello, baby!” she coos and Grogu coos back at her and waves. “He hasn’t gotten any bigger since the last time I saw him.”

“No, he-”

“Are you feeding him?”

Cobb laughs and steps away from the table to go sit in a chair. To be fair, he is only a few hours out of the bacta tank and that is the longest he has stood on his own. Nevertheless, Ren gives him a disgruntled look at his abandonment and amusement.

“Of course, I feed him, Mom.”

“Is he getting enough sleep?”

“Yes, he sleeps-”

“Are you playing with him? Reading to him?”

Ren starts to answer with another affirmative but stops midthought. “Reading?”

“I’ll send you some fairytales to your datapad. You still have the datapad, right?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Okay,” she reaches off screen and presses some buttons. “Now, what is this about a Razor Crest?”

“We need a ship.”

“I figured as much,” her mother slides specs over her eyes and turns to her own datapad. “Why a Razor Crest specifically?”

“We need pre-Empire to stay off the radar of the Imps. Something fast with living quarters, and some storage space.”

“How much storage space?”

“A bay for a N-1 Starfighter.”

Her head snaps up at that. “How did you get your hands on that?”

“It’s Mando’s. Not mine.”

“I want to speak with him.”

Ren feels a pit of dread in her stomach. She glances over at Cobb who is just grinning behind his hand. She steps away from the holo so Mando can take her place. “I’m so sorry for whatever is about to happen,” she whispers when they pass each other.

The matriarch of the Vanth family takes a moment to study the Mandalorian before speaking. “Mando, is that your name?”

“I’d prefer to keep my name off paperwork.”

“That’s not why I’m asking. I can put whatever name you want on the ship paperwork. I just want to know the name of the man who is traveling with my daughter and her charge.”

There’s a soft chuckle from under the helmet. “Din Djarin.”

Ren didn’t even think to ask for his actual name, figuring he wouldn’t part with it. She glances over at Cobb who shrugs, he wasn’t aware of Mando’s name either. Without missing a beat, Mando speaks again.

“And your name, ma’am?”

She smiles slowly. “Naria Vanth.”

“I appreciate any help you can offer,” Mando says with genuine sincerity.

“And I appreciate you keeping my daughter in one piece.” She looks down at her datapad. “Inventory is starting to run low. The New Republic keeps grabbing at any decent ships to build up their fleet. I do have a VCX-100 light freighter that is in solid condition. If you need to save on credits we can always trade out the assault shuttle for your starfighter.”

Ren steps back into the projection. “Actually, I’ll be paying for half of it.”

“Well you’re not going to fit a N-1 and a X-Wing in that cargo hold.”

“I can store the X-Wing.”

Naria takes her specs off. “Where are you going to store that thing?”

Fett appears over Ren’s shoulder. “Currently, it is being stored in my ship bay and may remain there indefinitely.”

“And you are?”

“I am Boba Fett.”

“Ah, you’re the one responsible for saving my fool son’s life.”

Ren finally got a laugh out of the conversation and points at Cobb. Fett bats her hand down.

“Your son is very brave and managed to survive an interaction with a very dangerous man. His heroism is to be praised. As is your daughter’s bravery. She too faced a platoon of Dark Troopers and lived to tell the tale.”

Naria gives Ren a hard look. Ren never told her about the Dark Troopers and she will hear about it later. “It’s nice to hear that my children’s upstanding behavior warrants the praise of a bounty hunter.”

“Ex-bounty hunter,” Fett corrects. “But my admiration remains intact.”

Finally a smile breaks across Naria’s face. “I too am proud of Cobb and Ren. If I’m able to get the ship to Tattooine in three days, is that acceptable?”

Ren and Din nod in agreement.

“You can deliver it at the Mos Espa spaceport,” Fett instructs. “I’ll pay the transport fee.”

“There’s only one issue with this ship,” Naria continues.

Ren snaps her fingers. “We’re going to need a gunner.” She turns to Din. “There are two gun turrets and only one can be operated from the cockpit.”

“Technically,” Naria adds, “you should have four crew operating it but you could make due with three. You will need a third person.”

Mando nods. “I may know someone.”

Ren swallows down the nervousness of not knowing who this third person is going to be. Knowing of his reputation as a bounty hunter, she’s not too sure she wants to share the space with another bounty hunter. They’re not always as civilized as Mando and Fett. But she trusts Mando as much as she can at this point, and she knows that he won’t put the child in danger, so nods her agreement.

Naria gives one last smile directed at Ren. “Three days you’ll have your ship. Stay out of trouble until then.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Cobb? You too.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And thank you again, Mr. Fett, for saving my children. Should you need anything in the way of vehicles or ships, please reach out to me.”

Fett nods. “It was my pleasure.”

***

Din sees Ren breath a sigh of relief when the holo transmission cuts off and wonders why she feels that way. Naria Vanth was polite and direct, none of her questions had been offensive or unnecessary. But Ren behaves like she just got released from an Imperial interrogation. He turns to look at Cobb, who is grinning widely and sipping whiskey. The entire situation leaves him confused and Fett must have picked up on it.

“Siblings have a completely different relationship than anyone else in the universe.”

Cobb laughs. “Corellian siblings are even more different.”

Fett picks up his helmet. “I think we’ve dallied enough and should make an appearance at the celebration below. Marshal?”

Cobb finishes the whiskey and stands up. “You might have to prop me up in a corner.”

“You’ll have your choice of corners.” Fett turns to Din and Ren. “And you two?”

“I’ll make a call to Dune to put out feelers for that third crew member and then I’ll be down,” Din answers.

Ren points to the snoring sling around her body. “I have to put someone to bed.”

Fett and Cobb leave the room, their voices carrying down the hallway.

“So you paint it, huh?” Cobb says.

“Yes,” Fett answers. “You can.”

“Wasn’t sure if it would have been disrespectful to do that. Besides, having it look beat up made me look tougher.”

Fett chuckles before they move out of hearing range. Ren, however, seems distracted, her eyes unfocused as she sways slowly with Grogu. He leaves her to her thoughts and places the call to Cara Dune. She answers the transmission despite the late hour on Navarro.

“Well, hello there,” she greets with her half smile. “To what do I owe this communication?”

“I was hoping you may have a lead on a…” he pauses, looking for the right way to word this. Fett’s communicator is secure but he’s not sure about Dune’s. “A burial spot for our friend Mayfeld.”

Ren’s head snaps over to his direction but her body still continues to sway.

Dune nods slowly. “I may have a location and lucky for you, I can send it directly to you.”

“That would be very helpful. I’m by Mos Espa for the next three days.”

“Got it. I’ll be in touch soon.” She smiles again. “How’s the Little Guy?”

“Good. Sleeping right now.”

“Well, give him a squeeze from me when he wakes up.”

“Will do.”

The communication ends and Din watches Ren for a moment. Her eyes are focused now and she has stopped with her swaying motion. Grogu still snores from his resting place against her stomach. He knows she has questions and waits her out, which only lasts a few seconds.

“Who’s Mayfeld?”

He’s thankful her questioning is the same as her mother’s: direct. “Migs Mayfeld is an ex-Imperial sharpshooter. He’s helped me out before when it came to getting information to rescue the kid when Gideon captured him.”

“You trust him?”

He remembers the look on Mayfeld’s face during the discussion of Operation Cinder. He remembers the look of disgust right before Mayfeld drew his blaster and shot the officer point blank. He remembers the explosion at the base when Mayfeld shot the cycler rifle from Fett’s ship. “I do.”

And now here comes the test, will she trust him. This takes a little longer than her questioning but she does nod in agreement. “Okay. Better than one of my brothers, I suppose.”

He is slightly disappointed at that thought. The dynamic between her and Cobb in particular is quite amusing to watch. But if they’re going after Gideon, they’re going to need someone with Imperial experience, a sharp eye, and loyal to the cause of protecting the child. Mayfeld fits the bill perfectly and hopefully he’ll be willing to help.

“Here,” she slips the sling over her head while still cradling Grogu. “I’ll go down to the celebration. You haven’t had much of a chance to spend time with him.”

He gratefully takes Grogu from her, thankful for the helmet that hides his relieved smile. Having the child back in his care has fixed that broken navigation feeling he has been struggling with recently. He has purpose once more and he’s overwhelmed by the emotion that comes with that realization. Ren’s hands hover briefly over the sleeping bundle as if she’s not quite ready to release him. Her care and concern are quite deep and once again he’s struck with an appreciation for her presence as well.

“So I get bedtime duty now?” he ends up saying to break the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s a helluva lot easier than feeding time.”

He chuckles at the comment as they slowly make their way down to the guest quarters. “I wonder if he’s ever going to grow out of that.”

“Probably not,” Ren shrugs. “I mean, I’ve tried to get him to eat vegetables and all he does with them is use them to lure insects or amphibians to him. I have had some luck with fruit though. He loves berries. That gave me the fright of my life.”

“How so?”

“I didn’t realize he had eaten them. It was when we first left Yavin IV. I had picked some fresh fruit, berries, and vegetables to take with us. On our first night planetside, we stopped at Kashyyyk. I was so tired and my nerves were just stretched so thin. Thankfully Chewbacca put in a good word for me so I was welcomed and protected during the stop off but still.”

He nods, knowing that feeling well.

“Well, I grabbed the fruit and brought it into where I was staying. While I was in the fresher, Mr. Green Bean here ate all the berries. I came out of the fresher and nearly had a panic attack. Red all over his face. I spent an hour trying to find a wound because I thought it was blood. Then he handed me the empty container and I realized what happened.” She brings a hand to her chest and taps her heart. “Scared the life out of me.”

He laughs softly, trying to not disturb Grogu’s slumber. “He can inspire moments of panic quite easily.”

They’re stopped in front of his room and Ren starts fidgeting again. “Oh, here,” she reaches into the back of her left boot and pulls out a small stuffed toy in the shape of a loth cat and tucks it into the folds of the sling. “It, uh, helps him go back to sleep if he, um, has a nightmare.”

Din touches one of the ears. “You made this.”

She nods. “I stuffed it with pine needles and some flowers that give off relaxing scents. So if he wakes up upset, just squeeze it a few times and that’ll make it smell stronger.”

He still is wrapping his mind around her making this little, useful, toy for Grogu. She’s still fidgeting, shifting from foot to foot. He realizes she’s now in the position he had been in previously. The child is their navigator and without him as their center, they drift. It’s a lonely feeling and one that he doesn’t wish Ren to feel. He opens the door to his room and turns the light on, keeping it low.

“There’s a couch in here,” he offers, “if you wanted…”

She smiles sadly. “Thank you but I’m sure you need time to yourself,” she motions to her face.

Her reference to his helmet surprises him. “How did you know about that?”

“He told me,” she points to Grogu. “He ‘talks’ about you quite a bit. He knows how important your creed is and keeping your face concealed is part of that.” She pauses, seeming to sense his unease. “He told me about your rescue of him from Moff Gideon and you’re allowing him to leave with Master Luke. He understands the importance of what you did in that moment, the gravity of it. But he never allowed me to see his memory of your face. He guards that very closely, as he should.”

He lets out the breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

“He has been worried about the repercussions of that so when he wakes up, maybe you could make sure you tell everything is fine. It’ll soothe hi-”

“My covert ex-communicated me.” He doesn’t know why he confesses this to her standing in the hallway of Boba Fett’s Palace. Judging from the shocked and horrified look on her face, she doesn’t know why either.

“I’m so sorry to hear that.” Her long fingers start to fidget again but this time they flutter over his elbow. “Go put him to bed and I’ll be right back.”

He watches her climb up the stairs back to Fett’s chambers. He leaves the door open to his own quarters as he hangs up the sling in the corner over the bed. Grogu is still sleeping soundly, clutching at the stuffed toy and snoring. There’s movement at the door and he turns to see Ren has returned with four bottles of alcohol from Boba’s private stash.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked to drink and I figured this conversation is going to need at least one.”

He takes two of the bottles from her and sets them down on the table in front of the couch. She pulls out two glasses from the pocket in her jacket and adds them to her contraband. She grabs a Corellian whiskey and pours herself a full glass before sitting down in a chair. He takes the spotchka bottle and pours a full glass himself. He lifts the bottom of his helmet and tips half the contents of the blue liquid into his mouth before lowering the helmet again. As he sits on the couch, he notices Ren looking over the hammock. Her fidgeting has stopped and she looks more at peace. She takes another sip of her alcohol before speaking.

“They excommunicated you because you took your helmet off and showed Grogu your face?”

He nods. “They did. Removing your helmet in front of others if forbidden by the creed.”

“What about your family?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your family members, like a spouse or children. You’re not allowed to let them see your face?”

He shakes his head. “We don’t take spouses or have children of our own. We live in clans, the members chosen and accepted. Foundlings are adopted from the wastelands of war and brought into our clans.”

She shifts in her seat. “Is there any way for you to be accepted back into your covert?”

He nods. “There is. I have to travel to Mandalore and find the living waters beneath the mines.”

She leans forward, resting her arms on her knees. “And what does that do?”

“I’m…not sure. But that is what I was told to do in order to make things right again with my covert so that’s what I’m going to do.”

“Alright,” she nods with resolution and tips the rest of the whiskey back. “First stop, when we get the ship, is Mandalore.”

Her matter-of-factness takes him back slightly. He goes through the same motion of lifting his helmet slightly to drink the rest of spotchka and watches her closely. There is no hesitation in her facial expression or doubt in her posture. He presented her with a problem and its solution and she merely accepted it. There was no explanation of his creed or a defense given for the actions of his covert.

There is just acceptance.

He struggles with this concept. Surely he has felt accepted before; he’d been a foundling after all. The Mandalorians took him in and they accepted him. That was why he tried to excel in the fighting corps; it was a show of gratefulness and honor at being chosen by them. They raised him, provided him with his armor and skill set. They did accept him.

Until they didn’t.

He glances over the hammock and hears the snores turning to whimpers. Ren is up in an instant and has Grogu in her arms. She grabs the stuffed toy and squeezes it a few times, the sharp scent of pine and earth filling the room as she tucks it up underneath his nose. His fingers latch onto the fabric and draw the toy to his face.

“Is he alright?”

She’s back to swaying again. “Yeah, the nightmares are getting to be more frequent but we kind of expected that.”

“Why?”

She sighs heavily as she returns to her seat. She settles Grogu in the crook of her arm. “He survived the massacre at the Jedi Temple. He blocked out most of the memories but those of watching the Jedi being killed, he’s remembering again since his training started.” A sudden realization brings her head up. “I suppose that’s why you two are so connected. Both of you witnessed a massacre at a young age.”

“We are both foundlings.”

“Beauty from ashes, as my mother would say.”

He tilts his head in a questioning stance and she elaborates.

“She would say that whenever something bad or unfortunate would happen but then something good would come out of it. For instance, there was a horrible accident at one of the engineering warehouses in the neighborhood where my family lived on Corellia. There was some kind of fuel leak and a spark ignited it. The whole building collapsed but thankfully, everyone made it out alive. Unfortunately, all the people who worked there were suddenly out of jobs which meant they were soon out of money. The whole community came together and we ended up sharing our food and resources until the factory was rebuilt and everyone had their jobs back. Beauty from ashes.”

It is a nice sentiment and one he certainly hopes will hold true with his current situation. His beauty lies with finding the springs in the Mandalorian mines, that water will wash away the ash of aspotatism and give him the restoration needed. Then he will have his covert, his family, back intact.

“Okay,” she picks up her whiskey again, Grogu back to snoring peacefully. “I want to hear the story about the mudhorn. That is his favorite one to tell and I want to do some fact checking.”

He pours himself another glass of spotchka and sits back on the couch to tell the story. Ren folds her legs underneath her, Grogu settles in her lap so she can drink and listen to the story with rapt attention. There is a sense of peace that settles over the room. Even the raucous bursts of noise from the celebration down below doesn’t burst the atmosphere they have created. It doesn’t take long after the mudhorn story that Ren’s eyes start to droop from exhaustion.

He takes Grogu gently from her lap and places him back into the hammock before turning back to Ren. If he leaves her in the cross-legged position to sleep, she’ll be too sore to move tomorrow. As gently as he can, he lifts her from the chair and she emits a noise of protest. He moves her to the bed and lays her down under Grogu’s hammock and covers her with a blanket. He goes back to the couch and lays down on his back and faces the ceiling. Sleep tugs at his mind and soon he gives into it, his dreams a mixture of fire, ash, and water.

[leylinefiction]

The Mandalorian: Broken

Chapter One: The New Arrival

Chapter Two: Serendipity

Chapter Three: A Stranger from the Desert

Chapter Four: Honor Among Thieves

Ren had been in a handful of fights in her life, mostly just alleyway scuffles or the occasional bar fight. The platoon of Dark Troopers was the first true battle she had ever participated in and she still doesn’t quite remember how she managed to escape with her life. Her foot bounces nervously as she sits in a partially intact chair that survived the explosion that destroyed Garsa’s Sanctuary. That is where they’re planning and waiting for the Pykes. Shand has just finished explaining how Fett’s team is scattered throughout the city watching for the Pyke’s arrival.

Grogu tugs on one of the buckles on her boot and pulls himself up on her rapidly bouncing foot, the happy coo he emits warbles with the vibrating movement. Everyone’s head turns to the sound and Ren feels embarrassment rise up her neck as she scoops Grogu up from her foot.

“Thanks for that, kid,” she admonishes mildly. He blinks worried eyes up at her and reaches for her face. She lets him grab a hold of her finger as she wiggles it and he laughs. Mando comes over to the alcove where she’s sitting and leans on the pocked-marked wall.

“You're the second line of defense. You may not even need to get involved.”

She smiles up at him. “Clearly you don’t know much about Corellians.”

Shand moves bottles around behind the bar and produces a dusty bottle of spotchka. “They have rocket fuel for blood.” She uses her thumb to flick the cork off the top of the bottle. “They like to go fast and start fights. And all the Corellians I’ve ever come across have fit that bill.”

“Win,” Ren corrects. “We like to win fights.”

Shand grins and takes a long drink the bright blue liquid. “Have to start a fight to win it.”

The lighthearted banter temporarily relieves some of the nervousness Ren is feeling. But then the silence comes back as everyone gets lost in their own headspace. She taps Mando’s thigh guard to get his attention without disturbing anyone else. When his helmet tips to look down at her, she hands him Grogu and he takes the child without hesitation. She’s slightly surprised when he remains leaning on the wall near her but there is something protective and comforting in his presence.

She shifts on the chair, drawing her legs up to cross them. She takes a few deep breaths and closes her eyes. Meditation never came easily to her and it was a never-ending frustration on Master Luke’s part. But she always found it difficult to meditate on Yavin IV. There was so much life on that planet: the trees, bushes, flowers, water, and animals. So much beauty working together, it was difficult to appreciate it as a whole when she wanted to appreciate each piece individually. But battle brings focus. Slipping into the quiet needed for the focus of defense comes much easier to her now. Almost immediately she can feel the unity of the people gathered in the ruins, the bonds between them all are solid, no chips of distrust or underhandedness. It shouldn’t but it does surprise her. She supposes there is honor among thieves.

Moving past the ruins, she feels the Force move across the sand of Mos Espa. The Gamorrean Guards, the Mods, and Krrsantan all shine like golden beacons throughout the town. But then something causes a very slight disturbance, a minute blip in the fabric of Tattooine. It is enough to give her pause and she picks at that particular thread. When she pulls on it, another one pops up, and then a third. Her eyes fly open and she jumps to her feet.

“Call everyone back!”

Fett gives her a confused look but still reaches for his communicator. “Why?”

“The town,” she shrugs out of her jacket, “they’re turning against us.”

“We have a treaty-”

“Not anymore.” Ren points at Taanti. “You get the Gamorreans.”

Taanti nods and three other Freetown members follow him as they climb into one of the armored speeders and take off. Shand is already slinging her rifle over her shoulder.

“I’ll head to the worker’s district and help the Mods,” she says before taking off on a speeder bike.

Ren pulls her lightsaber. “I’ll go to Krrsantan.”

Fett already has his helmet on and is standing at the door. “We’ll hold positions here until you come back.”

She glances over her shoulder to see Grogu giving her a wave from Mando’s grip and she returns it before darting out of the building and sprinting to City Hall. She uses the Force to keep her footing and speed herself along the four blocks to Krrsantan’s post. By the time the large City Hall building comes into view, the Trandoshans have already piled on top of the wookie on the hall steps. She takes a couple bounds and lands at the top of the stairs, igniting her lightsaber.

Her sudden appearance startles the Trandoshans and she quickly dispatches three of them. Krrsantan realizes she’s there to help him and flings two more of his attackers into the solid columns of the building. The other three that are left retreat to the base of the steps, their swords held without conviction in their scaled hands. Ren takes an offensive stance with her lightsaber and Krrsantan erupts with a ground shaking roar. The swords drop to the sand with dull thuds as the Trandoshans retreat as quickly as possible.

“Santo, we have to get back to the Sanctuary,” Ren turns off the lightsaber but keeps it in her hand. “This was just a distraction.”

She starts down the stairs but realizes the wookie isn’t following her. When she looks back at him, he gives her a guarded look. She doesn’t need the Force to tell her about his conflicted emotions about owing her anything, let alone his life, for the rescue. Wookies and their damn life debts.

“Hey, you totally would have had them on the run. I just sped the process along. Can we go now? The others are going to need us.”

He huffs as he starts down the stairs and starts reloading his blaster before jogging towards the Sanctuary. Ren just shakes her head.

“Wookies, so kriffing temperamental.”

***

Din takes the right side of the doorway while Fett takes the left side. The Freetown residents that stayed behind position themselves by the windows, ready to provide cover for the returning allies. One of them has Grogu tucked underneath them until Ren gets back with Krrsantan.

“It’s a distraction,” Din states. “They’re dividing us up.”

“It’s a solid tactic. Hopefully the early warning that we had gives us an advantage.” Fett nods. “And here comes trouble.”

Din sees a lone dark figure slowly making its way down the street towards the ruins. As it grows closer, the first thing that Din notices is the large brimmed hat of the newcomer. “Cade Bane, I presume.”

“Yes.”

Fett moves through the door and Din follows close behind, taking cover from one of the front columns. The sound of the Freetown residents all arming their guns provides a satisfying noise. Din had never crossed paths with Cade Bane but he certainly had heard of the prolific bounty hunter. He is a legend. Which means that this situation could be very volatile. Fett takes a defensive stance, rifle at the ready but in a relaxed grip.

“If you’re looking for a job, you’re late,” Fett greets.

“I’ve already got a job,” Bane answers. “I’m here to negotiate on behalf of the Pyke Syndicate.”

“I don’t negotiate with gutless murderers.”

“If that’s not the quackta calling the stifling slimy.”

“Clear out. Tell your bosses we know they’re outnumbered.”

Bane’s mouth twists at the corner. “I wouldn’t be countin’ on the people of Freetown to be comin’ anytime soon. I paid Marshal Vanth a visit. You never should have left him without his armor.”

No sooner had Bane finished the sentence then all the armed rifles and guns appeared in the windows behind them. Din steps out from behind the column as well.

Fett bends his head in their direction. “Oh, we know about your visit to Freetown. And those people are not going to stand for what you did to their Marshal.”

Din notes that Fett doesn’t give away that Vanth is still alive. There are plenty of benefits when your enemies think you’re dead. But Bane doesn’t look too concerned facing down the firing line in front of him.

“Before you get any ideas,” Bane says, “I’ve got back shooters too.”

Din watches as eight Pyke sharpshooters appear: four high and four low. All angles are covered. Din steadies his pistol grip.

“Let the Spice move through Mos Espa and all this can be avoided,” Bane makes his final statement in the negotiation.

Fett’s answer is short and definite. “No.”

“What do you propose then?” Bane counters.

“I will only negotiate with the head of the Pyke Syndicate.”

There is a cruel twist to Bane’s mouth. “You mean the one that massacred your Tusken family and then blamed it on a speedbike gang?” Bane pauses, letting the information process. “You know it’s true.”

Something shifts in Fett. His stance is stiff with shock and anger. Din knows if Fett acts out of emotion, he’ll be compromised in the fight. Bane’s the one in control at the moment and that currently gives him the advantage. Din sees the end of the blaster rifle lift slightly and Bane moves his duster away from his holsters. Din is about to step forward and interrupt when the Freetown armored speeder comes flying around the corner. The Weequay must recognize Bane and immediately opens fire with the mounted blaster cannon. It isn’t the best strategy but in moments of battle, you deal with what happens.

So they do.

Din takes off on Fett’s heels as he charges Bane. The bounty hunter gets off a couple shots that barely miss Fett and Din before Bane ducks down an alley. Din and Fett both take up flanking positions at the entrance when they see Bane has stopped dead in his tracks. Krrsantan’s roar echoes down the canyon of the alley followed by Ren’s enraged yell.

“Cade Bane!”

If Din was afraid of Fett being emotionally compromised, he is terrified of Ren confronting Bane. He had spent half of the previous night watching her sit next to the bacta tank, rocking the kid to sleep and watching over her brother’s vitals. He turns to Fett.

“We can’t let her get into a fight with him.”

“20 Dark Troopers? I say we can. Let her do some damage.”

“She’s too emotional.”

Before Fett can respond, a large gust of wind blows through the alleyway, kicking up a small sandstorm. The sand pings off their visors and helmets, momentarily blinding them. When it stops, and the sand settles, Bane is gone and Ren is frantically searching for him with her lightsaber held at the ready.

“Where is he?”

“Was the sandstorm you?” Fett asks.

Ren nods. “I used it as a cover.”

Fett sighs. “So did Bane.”

Before anything else can be said, Din feels the ground shake under his feet and immediately flips on the scanner in his helmet. The outline of a large scorpenek droid appears behind a couple rows of buildings. “We need to get back to the ruins and regroup. We have problems.” Then he sees the second one a couple blocks over. “Real problems.”

Ren peeks out from the alley. “Oh fun, scorpenek droids. With shields, gentlemen.”

“If we retreat back to the ruins, they’ll pin us down,” Fett surmises. “Djarin and I will lead them away from the ruins. Ren and Santo will get everyone out of the Sanctuary. Scatter as far as you can across the city so we can attack at all angles.”

“I hate to be negative in the midst of a fight,” Ren says, “but we’re going to need some serious firepower to bring down these two things.”

Din turns to her. “You’re a Jedi. Can’t you do…” he motions with his hand, trying to imitate what he’s seen Grogu do when he had intervened using the Force.

Ren gives him a blank look. “I don’t know what that means. What does,” she motions back to him, “what does that mean?”

“Can you use the Force to bring them down?” Fett explains.

“Not with the shields up. Bring down the shields and I’m sure we all could bring them down. Once again, we need something big.”

Fett nods. “I have a rancor.”

Din had completely forgotten about the beast in the palace. “New plan, Ren and I distract the two droids, you get the rancor. Santo gets everyone out of the ruins.”

“What I’d miss?” Shand drops next to them.

Ren looks at her. “Did you know he had a rancor?”

“Is it broke enough to ride?” Shand asks.

“We’re about to find out,” Fett says before igniting his jetpack to head back to the palace.

Ren laughs and shakes her head. “You guys are so wizard. Kriffing rancor…”

“No one tell Skywalker we’re corrupting his Jedi,” Shand quips.

Corrupting. That brings an idea to Din’s mind but the droids are almost in position and about to open fire. Din scans through the walls around them and finds a back way into the ruins. He starts off in the direction through side alleys and goes in through a back storage room that winds its way back to the main area where the Freetown residents are still positioned at the windows. He scans the crowd until he finds the Mayor’s majordomo cowering in the corner.

“You!” he shouts and motions to the Twi’lek. “Where do the Pykes do their business?”

Ren and Shand come up behind him to see what he’s doing.

The Twi’lek wrings his hands nervously. “I’m not sure if you’ve seen the two very large droids that are outside-”

“Where do the Pyke’s do their business?” Din repeats.

“I don’t know.”

Din turns to Ren and hopes that she will go along with his bluff. “Do the Jedi mind thing.”

She glances at him briefly but she picks up on what he wants. She scowls and tries to look threatening as she stretches her hand out towards the Twi’lek’s head.

“Okay, okay,” he immediately caves. “Don’t do the Jedi mind thing. They do their business in Mos Eisley, the Desert Survey Office to be specific.”

Din turns to Shand. “If the families of Mos Espa negated the treaty, they’re going to be hiding somewhere.”

“Worth a shot.” Shand says and goes back out the way they crept inside.

Din moves to where the Freetown residents are and scoops up Grogu. He pats him a couple times before handing him over to Ren. She slips him into her sling and makes sure that he’s hidden from sight. “I didn’t know there was a Jedi mind thing.”

Ren shrugs. “Me either.”

He swallows down a surprised chuckle on how easily she went with the ruse. He’s becoming more and more convinced that this partnership will work, if they’re able to survive the two droids outside. He is surprised that the droids haven’t opened fire yet. They’re just sitting there, shields glistening in the Tattoine’s double suns.

“What are they waiting for?” Ren asks.

“I don’t know,” Din answers, “but let’s start getting everyone out of here.”

They assign Santo and Taanti to guard the back exit that leads into the alleyway while Ren and Din continue to monitor the droids. Santo nods to Din when everyone is out and when he and Ren leave, they find that both Freetown and the Mods split up in different directions.

“We’re going to have to split the droids up.” Ren says. “The rancor can take them out but not both at the same time.”

“Ren, Santo, and I will lead one away,” Din instructs. “Taanti and one of the groups can distract the other, leading it in the other direction. That’ll leave the second group to defend against the Pykes when they gather their forces again to attack.”

Taanti nods before going off to find one of the groups. Din turns to Ren. “You got the kid?”

She turns to show him Grogu is deep in the sling, completely covered and curled into the small of her back. “Good enough? Our only other option is for you to hold him in one hand and shoot with your other.”

Din shrugs. “I’ve done it before.”

“What?!”

There’s no time for further explanation as Taanti’s group unleashes a salvo of blaster power on one of the droids. Din and Ren use their blasters to get the attention of the second droid and lead it off in the opposite direction of Taanti’s group. When there’s a few blocks distance between the two droids, Santo attempts to get through the force field with his knuckle dusters. It’s a valiant attempt as there is a brief opening in the shield before the droid uses one of its legs to kick Santo back from it.

Ren holsters her blaster and takes out her lightsaber. It glances off the shield and is only beneficial to deflect the blaster shots aimed at them. Din reaches for the darksaber and takes a few swings but it still is not able to penetrate the shields.

“Put that thing away before you take a leg off with it!” Ren shouts at him.

His first response is to ask how she knows of the leg wound he suffered on Glavis, but he assumes she’s making a general, albeit accurate, warning. He powers it down and tosses it to her. “You use it then.”

She holds it in her left hand, her own saber in her right, and stares down at it with trepidation. An earth-shaking roar rips down the streets and jars her out of her contemplation. The rancor, with Fett on top, appears on the top of a nearby building. Before the droid can re-aim its blasters on the beast, the rancor is on top of the droid. It pushes down on the shields, forcing the droid down onto the ground. The shield generator starts to crack and there’s a weakness in the back shield.

Ren ignites the darksaber and drives both sabers into the compromised shield. It creates enough of a breach that Din and Ren are both able to slip through. Ren swipes at the legs, bringing the central processing unit down on their level while Din hits the center eye multiple times with his blaster. The shields come down completely and the rancor grabs a hold of the legless body and rips it in two.

“One down,” Ren says, “one to go.”

“You stay here,” Din tells her. “Keep the kid out of the fray. We can handle the other droid ourselves.”

He can tell that she doesn’t like the idea of being sidelined but her desire to protect the child overrides her desire to be in the fight. She gives him a tight nod before tossing the darksaber back to him. “Don’t you use that until you’ve had some training.”

He puts it back in the clip on his belt and nods. He and Santo have to run to keep up with the rancor and he can’t help but play over in his mind how effortlessly she wielded the darksaber. It was as if the blade didn’t weigh anything more than air. Perhaps he’s found a way to fill long travel hours on the ship by having her teach him how to wield the blade.

Taking down the second droid is easier than the first one with Taanti and a mix of Mods and Freetowners. When the second droid is destroyed, the Pykes that are left start to scatter. The Mods and Freetowners set off after them to ensure that they left Mos Espa with news that their Syndicate would never be welcome in the town. The shared comm between Fett, Shand and Din crackles with Shand’s voice coming over the speaker.

“Things are taken care of in Mos Eisley.”

Fett chimes in with the only bad news of the day. “Bane is nowhere to be found. But he’ll show eventually and we’ll be ready.”

Din holsters his blaster, satisfied that they’ve won the day.

[leylinefiction]

The Mandalorian: Broken

Chapter 1: The New Arrival

Chapter 2: Serendipity

Chapter 3: A Stranger From the Desert

Ren is so relieved to be out in the fresh air, wind in her hair, and speeding across the desert, that the silence of her shiny companion doesn’t dispel any of the relief that she is feeling. She’s technically still healing from the Trooper attack so Mando is in charge of driving the speeder to Mos Eisley. She takes the opportunity to lean back in the passenger seat, close her eyes, and enjoy the feeling of flying. Grogu keeps trying to stand up on the armrest of the speeder, the wind moving his long ears, his arms raised and letting out happy squeals.

“Hey,” Mando says quietly.

She opens one of her eyes slightly to see him reach over and tap Grogu lightly.

“Hey, kid, she’s trying to sleep.” His voice is still kept at a low volume. “Come here.”

She’s surprised to feel Grogu immediately climb down and make his way across the bench seat and climb up on Mando. Grogu takes up the same stance, only holding on to the glinting armor this time. Mando sighs as he keeps one hand on the wheel and the other around Grogu to keep the little one from bouncing out of the speeder. She knows she should take this opportunity to talk to him, get to know Grogu’s original guardian, but sleep is much more inviting so she gives in easily to that instead.

She wakes up to a soft tapping of three little fingers on her cheek and realizes they’re already in Mos Eisley and pulling into a mechanics bay. Ren shakes herself awake and automatically tucks Grogu into her sling. He makes contented coos as he gets comfortable and she can feel through the Force how happy he is at the moment. The peacefulness lasts for only a few moments because when they start down the staircase, cries for help reverberate around the stone enclosure. Immediately, Mando has his blaster drawn and her lightsaber hisses to life.

“Womp rat,” Mando says. “I got it.”

And he does. One shot and the animal lays dead at the feet of the petite mechanic. Ren powers off her lightsaber and slides it back into her boot before going over to the woman on the ground. A quick glance shows the bites are fairly shallow and the damage is minimal. Ren helps the woman to her feet.

“Well, you’re a pretty new face.” She turns to the pit droids emerging from their hiding spaces. “And look guys, Mando’s back! What an entrance you two make! Snap a picture and make a poster for the travel brochure. Tattooine could become a mid-rim planet then.”

Mando walks over to her. “You okay, Peli?”

The woman nods. “Just a scratch, nothing a quick bacta spray won’t fix. Hey,” she yells at the droids, “grab that thing and throw it on the fire before it gets gamey. So,” she turns back to Mando, “who’s this pretty young thing you’re keeping company with now?”

Ren feels the embarrassment and uneasiness that roils off of Mando. She has a feeling that this is a rare occasion, seeing an experienced Mandalorian bounty hunter uncomfortable with this line of questioning so she keeps her peace and waits for him to introduce her.

Mando clears his throat, translating to a metallic buzz through his vocoder. “This is Ren Vanth, she’s the one the Jedi tasked with protecting the kid.”

Peli’s face lights up under the grease and dust smudges. “Don’t tell me, the little guy is here too?!”

On cue, Grogu peeks out from the sling and reaches for Peli.

“Hey Bright Eyes!” She greets happily and picks him up. “It’s been a while. Are you hungry?” She turns and yells at the droids again. “Get the baby some dung worms!”

Ren follows them through the bay area where Peli sets Grogu down on a small table and puts a bowl of worms in front of him. Ren crosses her arms and watches him suck down one of the worms, trying to not let her disgust show. This child has eaten some disgusting things but this has to be the worst. No one would have suspected he had just eaten breakfast two hours ago either. Mando comes to stand next to her.

“We found out his name is Grogu.”

Peli makes a face. “Grogu? That’s a terrible name. I like Bright Eyes better.” She turns to Ren. “And Vanth is your name? You’re not related to the Vanths are you?”

“My brother is the Marshal of Freetown,” Ren answers.

“There’s a Vanth on Tatooine?” Peli shrugs. “No, I meant the Corellian Vanths. They have the best chop shop in the Universe.”

Ren nods. “Yes, actually both the Marshal and myself are siblings of the Vanths who run the chop shop.”

Peli picks up a small BD-unit droid and puts it on the table so she can fix its leg. “Big family from what I’ve heard. Sixteen siblings?”

Ren laughs, feeling some embarrassment herself at the attention. “No, definitely not sixteen of us. Just nine siblings. Seven run the shop on Corellia, one runs Freetown, and then there’s me.”

Peli smiles widely. “And you’re running with Jedi and Mandos. That’s impressive. But do you know what could be even more impressive?”

Ren shrugs and Peli breaks out in a sneaky grin. “Come here.”

Ren and Mando follow Peli over to one of the workshop bays where she tugs a tarp off a ship. Ren gasps at the sight. She had always wanted to see and fly one of these but one never made its way through her brother’s shop. “It’s a Naboo N-1 Starfighter, commissioned by the Queen of Naboo herself.”

Mando sounds less than pleased. “This isn’t a Razor Crest.”

Peli and Ren both scoff at his comment. Peli points at Ren. “I like you.”

“You said you had a Razor Crest,” he sighs.

“No,” Peli defends, “I said I had a replacement for the Razor Crest.”

“This is so much better than a Razor Crest, Mando.” Ren circles around the partially repaired ship. “It still has the original Nubian Monarc C-4 hyperdrive. The one J-type engine looks in good shape but the other needs some work. Does it still have the proton torpedoes?”

“All ten of them! This girl knows her ships,” Peli’s happy smile falters. “Oh, bantha piddle! This ship isn’t going to work now!”

“Why not?” Ren asks, which earns a surprised turn of Mando’s head in her direction. “It’s a cool ship. Who wouldn’t want one of these classics?”

He shakes his head slightly. “So why won’t it work now?”

“Well,” Peli motions to Ren. “I didn’t realize you added to your crew. I can pop the astromech socket out and make a jump seat for Bright Eyes, but there’s no way to turn a one seater into two.”

Before Ren can say anything, Mando beats her to it. “We’re not traveling together.”

Ren frowns at the finality of the statement. Perhaps she should have taken time to talk to him during the ride out to Mos Eisley. Grogu’s safety is her number one priority and if it means staying at Jabba’s former palace or traveling the galaxy with Mando, that’s what she’s going to need to do. She absently taps her fingers on the right wing of the starfighter. Peli looks back and forth between the two of them.

“This is awkward,” she says, taking a few steps off to the side. “Tell you what. You two talk about travel arrangements and who wants what. Someone is going to leave here with this sweet ride!” She smacks one of the engines and a panel drops off and into the sand. “I can fix that. No worries. I’ll go check on the kid and see how the womp rat is cooking up.”

Ren waits until Peli has disappeared from view before going over and picking up the fallen metal panel. Mando slowly makes his way over to the ship but stays on the opposite side. Ren grabs one of the tool boxes and finds a spanner with a handful of bolts. She starts reattaching the panel under the watchful eye of Mando.

“Why are you angry?”

“I’m not,” she answers shortly.

“You’re going to strip that bolt if you keep tightening it.”

He’s right. Annoyed, she drops the spanner back into the toolbox. “Angry isn’t the right word. I’m…surprised is all.”

“About?”

“I was tasked with protecting Grogu. I’m the one responsible for him until Moff Gideon is recaptured by the New Republic. I can’t just hand him off to you and go on my merry way.”

“He’s my foundling. If anyone is responsible for his safety during this time, it should be me.”

“You don’t think I can protect him?”

“That’s not what I said. You did protect him, heroically so. But I can take him now and you can go back to the Jedi.”

“I’m not a Jedi.”

His head tilts to the side slightly. “But…you have a lightsaber.”

“A lightsaber does not make me a Jedi. It just means I have a lightsaber. I can use the Force too but once again, doesn’t mean I’m a Jedi.”

“Then what does it mean?”

That’s the crux of the issue right there. She picks at some of the exposed wiring, untwisting some of the frayed wires. “I don’t know what it means. I just know what I need to do and that's to protect the child. At least I have the Force and a lightsaber to do that.”

Peli comes back. “I have a proposition while you two are discussing the custody issue. I’ll keep the starfighter and get it running and you two can battle it out when it’s done. Until then, let me find a better suited ship for the three of you. If the kid’s in as much danger as you’re saying, having two protectors is going to be better than one. Am I right? I know I’m right. That’s a given but what do you two think of that?”

She knows she shouldn’t use the Force this manner but she does it anyway. She reaches out to test Mando’s emotions and inclinations of Peli’s proposition. He’s leaning towards accepting it but is hesitating, not knowing what she is thinking. “I’m game for that. I can pay for the half the ship if Mando is willing.”

Despite knowing that he is agreeable to the arraignment, Ren still holds her breath until the shiny helmet nods once.

“I’m agreeable to that as well.”

“Peli,” Ren asks, “do you have a communications tower?”

“Of course.”

“Maybe I’ll reach out to my brothers on Corellia. See what the inventory is there, if that’s okay.”

“Absolutely, follow me. Oh,” Peli tilts her head in Mando’s direction. “You sure you want to leave him down here with that? He may steal it out from under you.”

Ren grins. Despite him appearing to be disinterested in their conversation as he continues to look over the starfighter, his attention is very much focused on hearing their conversation. “That’s okay. I have a pretty sweet ride myself so I’m not exactly looking at the moment.”

“What do you have?”

“A standard X-Wing, nothing fancy but it gets the job done.”

“Astromech?”

“No, I’m not a big droid fan. I like flying it manually.”

Peli leans back and yells over her shoulder. “It’s like you two were made for each other!”

***

“What did Peli mean by we’re made for each other?”

Din briefly glances over at Ren. She’s curled up in the corner of the passenger side of the speeder, wide awake, with her legs curled under her. Grogu is snoring from the pile of fabric of his sling in her lap. There’s something comforting and normal about seeing her relaxed and the kid asleep in her lap. “What?”

“When I told her that I’m not a big fan of droids. She said that it was like we were made for each other. Why don’t you like droids?”

He debates coming up with an excuse, any excuse, to give her. But then he remembers her flash of anger at his statement of them not traveling together. If they were going to split the responsibility of protecting Grogu, there needed to be a foundation of trust. He decides to be direct and blunt about it.

“Droids killed my parents. That was when the Mandalorians took me in as one of their own.”

“Oh.” She shifts slightly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that was the reason.”

“So what’s your reason for not liking them?”

“Certainly not as serious as your reason. I feel stupid now.”

“I didn’t realize this was a competition to see who had the better story.” He hopes that his comment keeps the door of communication open. He actually does want to get to know her, understand her quirks, perceptions, and habits. They were going to be traveling together on a ship, hours spent in close proximity. The more they know of each other, the smoother the travel will be.

She shrugs slightly and looks out at the quickly falling twilight over the sand dunes. “I was replaced by a droid.”

At first he thinks he hears her wrong. “Excuse me?”

She sighs. “Okay, so how I came to know that I could use the Force was when I helped my older brothers in the garage. I could move things, you know, without touching them.”

He remembers this from what Grogu was capable of doing. He remembers the mudhorn. “Go on.”

“I grew up in the garage, moving engine blocks and sublight engines, massive panels for frigates. My brothers credited my ability with their success. They didn’t have to buy or pay rent on droids to do the heavy lifting; I did it. When Luke Skywalker heard about the girl mechanic who could move large objects with her mind, he came looking for a Jedi to help rebuild the Order.”

“But you said you’re not a Jedi.”

“I’m not. To be a Jedi is to dedicate your life to the Order and only the Order. You forgo any and all emotional attachments and dedicate yourself completely to your training and connection to the Force.”

“And you couldn’t do that?”

She laughs shortly. “I come from a very large family. Emotional attachments kind of come with the territory. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my brothers or mother. When I told Master Luke that if my family needed me, I would go without any hesitation, he expressed his doubts at my completing Jedi training.”

“Emotional attachment is what binds us together though. Without it, the Mandalorian culture wouldn’t exist.”

“And many other cultures too. There is nothing I would choose over family.” She glances down at the sleeping bundle in her lap. “This little guy included. I almost lost my life protecting him and I would do it again. I’ve never really felt this way about someone outside of my family.”

They exchange a look, her smiling proudly at her position of protector and he, smiling as well even though the helmet keeps it hidden, at knowing that there is someone just as dedicated as him in protecting the child. It helps to know he is not alone in this endeavor. “How do the droids fit into this though?”

“Oh,” she stretches her long legs in front of her. “I was replaced by a droid in the chop shop. When I went off with Master Luke, Han Solo helped in acquiring a few droids that could do the lifting I was doing.” She sighs. “There it is. I don’t like droids because I was replaced by them.”

He nods in understanding. “And it made you feel insignificant.”

“Yes, it did. Thank you for the reminder.”

He chuckles. “Just because you feel that way doesn’t make it so. You’re certainly not insignificant to the kid.”

She nods slowly. “To be fair, he is a baby and makes friends with everyone though.”

“Not everyone. There were a couple people he was less than friendly towards.”

“Oh,” she tucks the fabric tighter around him, “that makes me feel a little better then.”

He doesn’t know why that makes him feel better, like he’s been a help to her, but it does. “Did your brothers have any possible ships for us?”

“There were a few but not in great shape. They’re going to pull some strings and make some contacts. We should have news by tomorrow morning.”

The palace comes into view as twilight chases the last bit of warmth and light from the planet. They make it back just in time as a serious chill falls over the sand dunes. But as soon as they pull into the entrance bay, Ren sits up on alert and immediately tucks Grogu into the sling. She’s out of the speeder before the engine is shut off, standing at attention, lightsaber in hand. Din has no idea what is going on, there is nothing out of the ordinary as far as he can tell but he pulls his blaster just in case.

“What’s wrong?” he asks her.

She slides Grogu so he’s resting in the small of her back, protected. “I don’t know. There’s just…something in the air.”

“Like what?”

Her chin lifts slightly, her eyes scanning things he can’t see. “Pain. Fear.”

He takes charge and leads the way through the dark hallways of the palace. Ren stays exactly one step back and to his right as they make their way into the structure. There is a group of people gathered in the throne room and when Din recognizes who they are, his stomach drops. The Weequay bartender and a few residents of Freetown are milling around, nervous and on edge. He holsters his blaster as Ren comes around his right side.

“Taanti?”

The Weequay immediately locks eyes on Ren and struggles to school his face. “I’m so sorry, Ren. This guy came from nowhere, we have no idea who he is.”

“Taanti, what happened?”

He takes a deep breath. “He shot the Marshal. Gunned him down in cold-blood.”

One of the residents, Jo, steps forward. “He killed the deputy. Marshal is still alive.”

“That’s why we brought him here,” Taanti adds. “We’re hoping-”

“No need to hope,” Boba Fett says as he walks down the steps into the room. “Your Marshal is stable in the bacta tank. His arm suffered extensive damage but he’ll live.”

There is an audible sigh of relief. Even Din can feel the heaviness lift. Ren starts to hand Grogu to him but he gently pushes the child back into the sling. “Take him with you. He doesn’t need to be here for the conversation we’re going to be having.”

Ren nods. “Bring me up to speed later on. I want to help.”

“Of course,” Din reaches down and gently squeezes one of Grogu’s ears causing the child to coo in his sleep. “Go sit with your brother for now.”

Fett points her to the correct staircase that leads up to his quarters and she’s gone immediately. They all wait until her footsteps fade.

“How bad is it?” Din asks.

Fett sighs. “He’ll most likely lose the arm but he’ll keep his life.”

Drash, one of the young Mods, grins from the sidelines. “Arms can be replaced.”

“Indeed they can,” Fett agrees. “But we now have a double-pronged problem. Not only are the Pykes gathering numbers but they’ve added Cade Bane to their ranks.”

“Cade Bane?” Din asks. “I thought he was retired. Or dead.”

“Unfortunately not,” Fett confirms.

“So what do we do?” Taanti asks.

Fett turns to the Weequay. “Do we have Freetown’s assistance in this battle?”

“You do. He came after our Marshal and we can’t let that stand. Tattooine deserves better. We all do.”

“Then we are in agreement,” Fett says. “We are going to need a solid plan in our approach and we will need to act fast.”

“Excuse me sir,” the protocol droid enters the room. “I have some disturbing news from Mos Espa.”

“Now what?” Fett asks impatiently.

The droid pauses. “Sir, Madame Garsa’s Sanctuary has been bombed.”

“How bad is it?”

“The building is compromised and there are no survivors.”

Fett is quiet for a moment. “So it begins. We’re now at war.”

[leylinefiction]

The Mandalorian: Broken

Chapter 1: The New Arrival

Chapter 2: Serendipity

There have only been a handful of times in his life when fortune has been so great that it passed into serendipitous territory. This is one of those times and Din has not needed it more than now.

Cast out of his covert, unable to see Grogu during his training, and trying to pass time with random jobs that do nothing to take the sting out of his circumstances, he feels as if his navigation is broken. He had already been planning on coming to Tattooine to pick up the ship that Peli Motto had for him, possibly pay a visit to Fett who may be able to offer some wisdom to help with his recalibration of purpose. When Shand drops him a holo that the kid is with her and Fett, he makes sure to get to the palace as soon as possible.

When he arrives, he is surprised to see an unfamiliar face sitting at Fett’s table. Even more surprising is to see Grogu curled up in her garments. Shand didn’t mention a caregiver being with the child and this certainly isn’t Skywalker. He takes a moment to watch the two of them. The kid is obviously bonded to the woman and there’s a twinge of jealousy. Was he replaced that easily?

But then Grogu turns his head and sees Din standing at the foot of stairs. The noise he emits startles everyone in the room, including him. The sight of Grogu scampering across the table to get to him dispels any and all feelings of inadequacy. Grogu takes a much larger leap than he had seen before and Din catches him midair.

“Hey, kid! That was pretty impressive!”

Grogu coos up at him, his little hands patting Din’s helmet. He starts to tell him that he can’t take it off but he pauses. Why can’t he take it off? Fett and Shand have already seen his face. According to his covert he’s an apostate until he makes his way to Mandalore. The only person who hasn’t seen him is the woman seated at the table but Grogu obviously trusts her. But he can’t allow himself to get used to removing his helmet, even for the kid. He made a mistake and now starts the atonement.

“Not this time, kid. Sorry.”

Grogu emits a disappointed noise, his ears drooping as Din moves to properly greet Fett and Shand. “Thank you for letting me know he was here.”

“Of course,” Fett motions to one of the chairs around the table and sits down at the head of the table. “Shand tells me you were already on your way to Tattooine.”

Din takes a chair that is across from the new face. Grogu seems happy that he can still see the woman. “Yes. A friend of mine in Mos Eisley has a ship for me, a replacement for the Razor Crest.”

“An ST-70 assault ship?” the woman sits up straighter. “Those are pre-Empire and extremely hard to find. Is it in working order? How much repair work is involved?”

“I don’t know yet. I came straight here when Shand sent the holo.”

“You know your ships,” Fett directs at the woman.

She looks abashed. “I’m Corellian, born and raised. My father and mother worked in the Corellian Engineering Corps their entire lives. My brothers opened their own shop for ship building and repair. We saw a lot of old pieces come through.”

“And now,” Din motions to Grogu, “you’re a Jedi?”

“In a loose sense of the word. I’m a little…old to be trained as a Jedi. But I can use the Force and handle a lightsaber well enough.” She looks down at the robe she's wearing. “Well, I thought well enough. I’m Ren Vanth, by the way.”

Din tilts his head. “Vanth?”

She smiles halfway. “Yes, you’ve met my brother, the Marshall of Freetown, Cobb Vanth.”

“Freetown?” Fett and Din both ask in unison.

“That’s what they renamed the Mos Peligo area. I was trying to make my way there with Grogu. He had offered us protection.”

Din tightens his grip on the kid. “Protection from what?”

“Moff Gideon has escaped,” Fett answers.

Din has to fight the urge to roll his eyes despite wearing a helmet. “Where’s Skywalker and Tano?”

“They’re helping the Republic track down Gideon. All I was to do was keep the child safe.”

A droid rolls into the room with platters of food and Din realizes just how hungry he is. He doesn’t remember the last time he hasn’t eaten rations and broth. It’s something to look forward to when he’s alone. There is a short pause in their conversation while plates are passed around and wine is poured. It is Shand who continues the questions.

“If no one else is going to ask, I have to know,” she says, picking up a roasted leg of a fowl and motioning to Ren. “What gave you those blaster burns?”

Ren takes a healthy swallow of wine. “Droids. Dark Troopers to be exact. Apparently Gideon had a stash of them.”

“How many?” Fett asks.

“There was a troop of twenty that were sent after me. I took out as many as possible before escaping off world.”

Twenty Dark Troopers against one not-quite-Jedi. Din glances over at Fett, who gives him a slight nod. Her condition must have been so poor that was why they didn’t tell him of her presence. It’s a miracle she survived. Grogu babbles and when Din looks down at him the child is reaching across the table, pointing at Ren. He’s trying to tell him something but he’s not sure what it is.

Ren coughs slightly and tries to hide her face behind her hand. “He’s, uh, he’s trying to tell you how…uh, how brave I was…or something like that.”

Grogu emits a happy noise and smiles up at Din so she must have been telling the truth. “Twenty Dark Troopers are formidable foes for just one person.”

Ren doesn’t look convinced. “He probably would be safer with a nurse droid.”

Grogu’s ears lower and he makes a sad noise.

“Nurse droids wouldn’t care about him,” Fett offers. “Not like you do.”

Din understands the hidden meaning in Fett’s words. Yes, he said it to encourage Ren but it also tells Din that this newcomer is just as dedicated to the child’s safety as Din. They’re all comrades seated at the same table with a shared purpose. Fett clears his throat, a signal that the conversation is going to change to other matters, when the protocol droid interrupts them.

“Excuse me, Master Fett, but there is a visitor who is insistent upon seeing you.”

“I’m busy at the moment,” Fett says. “Tell them to come back at another time.”

“I did,” the droid answers. “But he is refusing to leave. He claims his sister is here and won’t leave until he sees her. He claims he is-”

“The Marshall of Freetown?” Fett asks.

The droid looks momentarily confused. “It is.”

“Send him in and set another place.” Fett looks around the room. “Looks like we’re going to have a full table this evening.”

***

Ren can not describe the joy she feels when she sees Cobb walk down the stairs into the dining room. For the first time in months, she finally feels safe. He looks older, much older than the last time that she had seen him, his hair having gone completely gray. He is still rail thin but manages to look imposing all the same. Always the big brother, he watches the room warily when he hugs her in greeting and takes the seat next to her at the table.

“Wasn’t sure what to expect when I walked in here,” Cobb says, “but a family dinner certainly wasn’t it.”

“Jabba may have endorsed debauchery but I’m not interested in that type of reputation for my rule,” Fett explains.

Shand grins, “I’m still trying to convince him to get some dancers though.”

Fett shakes his head. “No dancers.”

Cobb lays an arm over the back of Ren’s chair in a protective stance and looks over at Din. “Mando, good to see you and your little buddy again.”

“That’s in thanks to your sister,” Din answers. “She is the one who protected him and brought him here.”

“Yeah, about that,” Cobb says, turning to Ren, “you were supposed to be here three days ago. What happened?”

“About 20 Dark Troopers,” she tells him.

His jaw clenches and he takes another sip of whiskey. “Can’t believe they sent you by yourself.”

Ren knows it’s the older brother in him speaking so she tries not to take it personally. Instead, she grabs his whiskey and takes a sip. “I’m fine now.”

Cobb takes his glass back and lifts it in Fett’s direction. “Thank you for that.”

“I may have a way for you to repay the favor, if you agree.” Fett sits back in his chair. “As you may know, the Pyke Syndicate is set on using Tattooine to run their spice trade. I’ve heard rumors that Freetown has not allowed this to happen.”

“No sir,” Cobb confirms. “Just ran them off this morning.”

Shand speaks up from the other end of the table. “There will be retaliation from the Pykes. We need to be prepared for the coming war.”

“What do you need?” Din asks.

“Muscle,” Shand answers.

Din nods. “You have it.”

Ren feels everyone’s eyes land on her. “I’m not sure if I classify as muscle but I’ll be willing to help, absolutely.”

“Twenty Dark Troopers and lived to tell the tale,” Fett says, “you’ve earned muscle status.”

“Guess I’m getting pulled into this now,” Cobb says.

“Actually,” Din interjects, “we could use all of Freetown, if people are willing. The Pykes will bring foot soldiers to do their fighting. Your people would certainly be strong enough to stand against them.”

“And what would Freetown get out of this arraignment?”

Ren kicks him under the table. “Cobb!”

He gives her a surprised look. “What? You want to join them, I get it. Hell, I’ll join them as a thanks to saving your life but damned if I drag my whole town into it without them getting something out of it.”

“And he is well within his right to negotiate a price on behalf of his people,” Fett agrees. “What would be amenable to the people of Freetown?”

Cobb thinks for a minute but Ren knows he already has his price, he’s just looking for the phrasing of it. He must find it because it finishes the whiskey and sets the glass down on the table. “Freetown wants the Spice completely off this planet.”

Shand makes a noise of disagreement but Fett silences her with a look.

“Why do they want that?” Fett asks.

“Tattoine has seen enough violence. I’m sure you know that more than anyone,” Cobb answers. “If we let the Spice continue to run through here after we get rid of the Pykes, it’ll just be another Syndicate after another looking for running rights. The cycle of blood spilling will just continue. Now, if the Marshall of Freetown and the Daimyo of Mos Espa set out to shut down the Spice route through Tattoine, we cut down on the violence significantly. And who knows? Maybe that peace will just outlast us both.”

Ren is holding her breath as she watches Fett calculate the request. After a moment of reflection, he nods. “We can agree to that price.”

“I’ll go talk to them tomorrow morning,” Cobb say, pouring himself another glass of whiskey. “Now, that that’s settled, I want to hear about all the Jedi adventures my sister has been on.”

[flightlessangelwings]

Trust and Intuition

Chapter 3- Emotions

The Mandalorian x fem!Reader

Link to masterlist in bio, fic also tagged

The children all stared up at you in awe. You kept your identity a secret to protect them, and they never would have guessed that it was the queen herself that protected them. Murmurs ran through the group of about a dozen children before they remembered what they wanted to show you.

“Look, look!” one of the little girls said excitedly as she led you to the child, “The Mandalorian has a baby!”

You pat the girl on the head as you kneeled down at meet the child’s eye. He looked at you and as soon as your eyes met, wide smile brightened his little face. You smiled back at him as you reached your hand out to him.

“Do you know what he is?” you heard Mando’s voice behind you.

“I’ve never seen anything like him before,” you replied to him without turning around. Something about this baby had you completely captivated. Not only was he adorable, but his eyes seemed to look directly into your soul. It was as if he could see things you could not. 

He reached out to you, and you could tell he wanted you to pick him up. Happily, you complied and lifted him off the perch he stood on and sat him in your lap. The children all got quiet as you and the child looked at each other. 

The child stretched his arms up to your face, and you bowed your head down so he could reach. As soon as his little hands touched your forehead, you felt a rush of emotions and could you see an image of your father in your mind. You broke away from his touch in a panic.

You tried to hide your alarm from everyone as you handed the baby to one of the older kids. You bit your thumbnail as you walked to the edge of the cliff with a blank expression on your face. The children all went back to fawning over the baby, and it was only Mando that watched you. 

“You ok?” he asked as he came to stand next to you.

“Where did this kid come from?” you answered with a question of your own.

“It’s a long story,” Mando briefly explained his target-turned-foundling story.

You chuckled, “So you have a habit of saving kids?” you smiled faintly. Clearly something was still on your mind, and Mando could tell you were avoiding it.

“Apparently,” he rested his arms in front of him. He stood next to you in silence for a few minutes as you both gazed over the horizon.

You exhaled sharply and broke the silence, “I’ve never seen a power like this in person before.”

The bounty hunter turned to you, “Power?”

“He gave me a vision. And I could feel,” you paused, “All these emotions,” you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“What did you see?” there was genuine concern in his voice.

“My father,” you could feel his gaze on you, but you kept yours straight ahead. You hadn’t thought about your father or your past in a long time, and it shook you to be reminded of it.

Mando knew there was more to it than this, but he decided not to push the subject any further. You two stood in a comfortable silence as you watched the sun in the distance. You could hear the children behind you, and this was the most you heard them laugh in a long time. While lost in thought, you realized what had to be done and you brought yourself back to the present.

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked.

“We wait for nightfall, then we get these kids out of here,” he answered, “Take them somewhere safe.”

You finally turned to him, and the tension melted away from your face. You opened your mouth to say something, but commotion behind you cut off your thoughts. One of the kids ran up to you and called your name.

“What’s wrong?” you asked as you put your hands on his shoulders.

The child took a breath before he answered you, “Bad guys, down there.”

You and the Mandalorian turned to each other before you both lept into action, “Looks like we don’t get to wait until night,” you commented with urgency in your voice.

He was quick to get back into battle mode, “Get the kids on the ship. I’ll cover you,” he said as he pulled his blaster out.

Immediately, your focus went to keeping the children safe as you did as the Mandalorian said. You scooped up his young child into your arms to keep him safe as you directed the rest to the ship. From down the hill, you could hear shots fired, and you tried to keep everyone quiet to stay hidden. 

As you got the last couple kids onto the ship, you could see Mando run back up the hill. You didn’t see anyone behind him, but you had a bad feeling that this wasn’t over just yet.

“We gotta go,” he said as you all hurried abroad, “Strap the kids in.” He then disappeared up into the cockpit and left you in the hull with all the little ones.

You couldn’t see anything, but you could hear the engine start up. You wasted no time and helped each child buckle into the row of seats that sat along the wall. To be more efficient, you sat some of the smaller ones into the older one’s laps. As the ship shook from take off, you could hear more sounds: other fighter ships.

The sounds of the children’s cries mixed with the sound of Mando firing on the enemy ships filled the space. Truth be told, you were just as afraid as the children, but you kept your face as level as possible and focused on keeping them strapped in and safe. The ship rocked around as the bounty hunter evaded fire, and you held on to a post with one arm with the child still tightly tucked in your other arm.

Suddenly, a small explosion rocked the ship. The children all screamed as you stared in horror at the small fire on the far end of the cargo area. You tightened your grip on the child as your body flung back against a wall.

“Mando! We’re hit!” you called up once you were able to take a breath. You hated how helpless you felt in the situation; you knew all you could really do is keep the kids from flying about the space. You could only hope that this bounty hunter was as good as the stories said.

The child stared at the growing fire and you could feel the determination in that tiny body as he tended in your grasp. He lifted his arms up and focused all his energy to the damaged hull. You and the rest of the kids all watched in awe as the metal seemed to move on its own and the ship seemed to repair itself. With wide eyes, you looked down and saw the child concentrating intently in your arms.

With one last shake, the mandalorian’s child managed to completely repair the damage, and it was as if nothing had hit the ship in the first place. Everyone in the room was in such shock, none of you realized that Mando had fished off the rest of the attackers and launched his ship into hyperspace to escape.

When Mando came into the hull space, he was met with silence, you and the children stared in amazement at the small green baby. He looked around and figured that the child had used his mysterious powers to fix the ship.

“Everyone ok?” he broke the silence.

You jumped at the sound of his voice and scanned the room to make sure they were all safe, “Yeah,” you breathed out, “Mando...what…?” you couldn’t form a complete sentence. You were aware that powers like this existed, but it was one thing to read about it and another to actually see it in person.

“It’s a long story,” he said with a sigh, “You all should rest. We’re safe now,” he addressed the children in a soft voice. He helped you get all the kids calmed down and settled. You passed his child back to him and watched as he tenderly lay the baby down on a cot. You felt something stir in you as you watched how gentle he was with all the children.

He looked up once the child was tucked in and you realized you were staring. You cleared your throat and looked away as you tugged at your shirt. You vaguely heard him tell you to rest as well before he disappeared back up into the cockpit. However, you were entirely too restless to sit still.

“Hey Mando,” you called up, “Mind if I join you?”

Your answer came when the door to the cockpit slid open, and you climbed up to join the Mandalorian in the small room. He sat in the pilot's chair, but it appeared he had already put the ship on autopilot. 

“What is it, your highness?”

“You don’t need to be so formal with me,” you replied and gave him your name, “That’ll do just fine. I’m not much of a queen right now anyway,” you added with a scoff. Then, you looked up and your face melted. You stared out into the vast space in wonder, and Mando could see your eyes sparkle like the stars.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with genuine concern.

You shook your head to pull yourself out of your thoughts, “Sorry, it’s just that I haven’t been off the planet since I was a kid. I almost forgot how beautiful the stars are,” you stared out the window, wide-eyed.

Mando watched as your face lit up, and he found himself thinking a similar thought. Only, his thought wasn’t about the stars.

Suddenly, you became aware of strong gaze on you. You cleared your throat as you fidgeted with your hands and looked down. “I, uh,  just wanted to say thank you,” you broke the silence, “For helping me, and more importantly for saving the kids.” 

You seemed to have finished your thought, but Mando could feel a “but” in the air.

With a deep breath, you continued, “I hate to ask this of you, especially since you’ve done so much already,” you turned to face him, “But I can’t stay with the kids. I have to go back to Durane.”

“Go back?”

You steadied yourself, “I should never have let things get this bad. I have to fix my mistakes,” clearly, you were afraid. But you knew what you had to do, “I have to take the planet back from the Empire, finish what the rebels started before me. Even if...” your voice drifted off and you balled your hands into fists as your newly found determination drove you.

“I’ll help you,” he said plainly. He recognized that fire in your voice, and he knew how much this meat to you, even if it was a very dangerous mission. He also guessed that the vision of your father had something to do with your drive, but it wasn’t a subject he wanted to push.

This took you off guard, “I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve done more than enough as it is.”

“How can you be sure the people have a decent leader if you die trying?” he retorted in an attempt to lighten your spirits.

You cracked a slight smile. He never ceased to surprise you. The same feeling took over you again as you looked at him. Even if you couldn’t see his face, there was something about him that made your heart flutter. “How do you know I’ll be a decent leader?” you finally said in a playful voice.

“I have a good feeling about you,” you could hear the lighthearted tone in his voice and it made you chuckle softly. “Why don’t you get some rest? You’ll need it,” he added for a moment of silence.

You nodded as you were suddenly aware of how exhausted you actually were, “Thanks, Mando. For everything.”

He watched you leave the cockpit and instantly wished he asked you to stay.

~

Notes: That scene at the end was something that was in my head since I started this so I was happy to get to it. I think you guys will like the next chapter too cause it’s lots of fluff! As always, comment or send me a message to be added to the tag list :)

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