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of beskar and kyber {chapter 19}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader) ; brief Force Sensitive! Reader and M!OC

Summary: As the wedding to Prince Cala looms closer, you find yourself feeling more and more out of place within the palace walls. You find an unexpected friend in your new bodyguard and handmaiden.

Word Count: 9.5k

Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, we meet readers betrothed and he needs his own warning, reader's mother also gets her own warning, kidnapping, reader is being kept against her will, hostage situation, use of narcotics, use of drugs, sedatives, self-depreciating thoughts, ptsd symptoms, medical trauma, past medical trauma, feelings of inadequacy, sexual themes, sexual content (not detailed), non con touching, unwanted advances, emotional manipulation, unnecessary display of possession, memory loss, controlling family dynamics, marriage set up, sold into marriage, there are a few more but they will spoil the chapter!

A/N: whew okay, sorry y'all. a looooot has been going on in my personal life, detailed in this post and this one. my only source of internet is the local library at the moment, which will make posting actual fic a little tricky for a moment. but i'm so excited to dwell further into this original arc with y'all ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

Ringing. Ringing, ringing. It completely consumed you, from the very center of your ears, muffling every other sound that tried to get through.

It didn’t hurt, but it did make it hard to concentrate, it felt like an immense pressure behind your eyes as well. Making your forehead and temples sensitive to touch, making it hard to take in the bright light from the desert landscape beyond your windows.

There was a soft knock at your door, signaling the start of the day. But you didn’t rise, feeling too lethargic even as the form of your mother and two handmaidens entered the room in a flurry of motions and quick words. But everything ceased when you called out from beneath your covers as the curtains were drawn back.

“Oh honey, what’s wrong?” Her words were sweet, cloyingly so, setting off an unease deep in your gut, nausea roiling at the combination.

“I-I don’t feel too good. My head, it hurts.” You roll over to your side, unable to move much beyond that as the throbbing in your head intensifies. She goes to sit beside your covered form on the edge of the bed, but you protest before she does. You didn’t want her anywhere near you, the very thought of her touching you making your body tense up and ready to fight her off. Frowning, she retracts her hands from where she had begun to reach out, something glinting in her eyes.

“I’ll go see if the med droid is available.” And then she was off, allowing you to see her exchange a few words with the guards outside your door. You catch a glimpse of brown eyes, making contact with the man who possessed them for a breath, and you feel like the air catches in your chest. That simple, momentary contact with a man you don’t know eases the ailments that have you still in bed despite the late morning of the hour. But the door is shut tightly behind everyone as they exit the room. Leaving you in isolation, the curtains fastened shut once again.

Hours later, as the sun begins its descent from the highest point in the sky, you slowly open your bedroom door. There’s only one guard at your door, posted there to ensure your safety as you keep to your quarters for the day. He’s dressed in flowing black layers, brown leather harness and belt allowing for his sheathed rapier style sword to dangle from his hips. His head snaps to attention as you emerge slightly, and you feel your heart skip a beat as his eyes bore into yours.

Any thoughts of what you were about to ask are pushed from your aching head when you connect the man standing before you with the polite one from the market a few days ago. The one who had held you so tenderly and made sure you were okay when your body had convulsed as a weird energy had suddenly flooded your senses. The ones whose eyes you had glimpsed through the door earlier.

“Excuse me, but-oh Maker, I’m so sorry, this is so inappropriate to ask- but you look so familiar,” A breathy laugh gave away your nervousness. “Your eyes are just so beautiful, and I think we met in the market the other day, if I’m not mistaken?”

“We did.” His voice was like velvet rich, a caressing softness in your ringing ears. Easing the ache still lingering in your head even if his words were short, his tone almost emotionless.

“Oh, goodness, okay. I don’t feel so out of line. I just…I thought it was you but I didn’t want to risk offending you or making you uncomfortable since you’re new to the palace.” The hallway was silent, as if he was thinking over his next words, as if he was unsure of how to speak with you. But you didn’t mind, sensing he was a man of few words.

“What made you feel like it was okay to ask?” He’s watching you closely, and you feel as if you’re being dissected. Being read in a way you weren’t quite comfortable with but…it also stirred warmth low in your middle. It was so different a look to those you encountered from the rest of the staff, from your mother, from Prince Cala and his family.

“Oh, um. Did I-I speak too intimately with you, I apologize. I really didn’t mean anything by it-“ You flustered, unsure why the man was pinning you with such focus. As if he was reading things in your body language and inflections differently than those you dealt with on a daily basis around the palace, as if he was privy to what they meant. You took a deep breath, trying to ignore the ringing still pressing down on your ears. Closing your eyes in a focusing blink before bowing to the man in front of you, stood dutifully at his post outside your bedroom door. Opening them back up, you avoided his eyes, not wanting to see the disdain he was surely pinning you with. “My apologies, sir, I meant no disrespect. I’ll leave you to your post.”

“No, don’t go. It’s okay, I promise. You can ask me anything you want.” He inclined his head toward you, one hand moving to grasp the hilt of his weapon. But it didn’t feel like a threat, it felt more like he was trying to ground himself. “I will do my best to answer. Though there are some things I may not be able to.”

“Why, because I’m the princess and you have to answer to me?” You tried not to scoff, the notion so ridiculous even if all signs pointed to this being your life. The title is something you had earned by falling in the good graces of the prince, of being promised to the prince of this planet. You never recalled wanting to be of such a standing and yet it had happened, it was your life. The insistence of so being repeated to you nearly daily over breakfast with your mother and at night over tea, almost as if it was a false truth being pushed on you until you believed it to be so. It was the reality in which you were roused from your accident, the one so bad you couldn’t recall any specifics.

“Because I don’t mind, you were kind to me and my…child in the market. He really enjoyed those berries.”

“Is he here with you?” You felt a swoop of admiration in your middle, the image of the small green boy lifting up the edges of your lips. You didn’t have the best experience with children, or any really, but you enjoyed the small sounds of happiness he had made as he munched and interacted with you. It filled a void you hadn’t realized, interacting with him, with his son. You never recalled wanting children either, though you mother and the parents of Prince Cala often cited two would be an appropriate number once the marriage was carried out. The discussion something you hadn’t even been a part of, making you feel some type of way about the whole ordeal that concerned your body and your livelihood.

“Yes, he’s back in the guards’ quarters, Asleep in my room.”

“He isn’t with your wife…his mother?”

“No, she’s…she’s, something happened to her.” His eyes averted, staring at the toes of his boots. They were worn, so unlike the rest of his pristine ensemble. It piqued your interest, but you didn’t want to push the friendly boundary barely established with the man.

“Is she okay?” It was quiet, your inquiry. Worry unsettling your stomach for the phantom woman who belonged to the man beside you.

“I hope she will be. It’s a…sensitive thing, that ails her.” His eyes don’t leave yours, gaze strong and glinting with emotion.

“I wish her a full recovery, I’m sure she misses you two by her side.” Breathing out the words, you suspected the man had been about to tell you she had perished. Unsure of why the prospect of him having a person, a partner… a wife seemed to settle heavy in your stomach. But it made sense, he was a handsome man as far as you could tell, his eyes beautiful enough to capture anyone’s attention. His obvious admiration for his son and the care with which he spoke…of course he had someone by his side.

The flare of jealously at the thought made you feel a little foolish as it unnerved you, you only just met this man. You didn’t even know his name. Frowning slightly, you bowed your head, hoping to convey your true condolences for his ailing wife.

“I…can only hope for the same thing.” Something in his forlorn tone didn’t sit well, sticking to the inside of your stomach. It was heavy, his feelings for the woman he spoke of, there was no doubt about it. And while it was endearing, it also felt…wrong. Like he shouldn’t be talking about someone else that way, that it was an odd thing for his focus to be on someone else.

Heat overtook your chest as you tried to push down the ill feelings toward this ailing, phantom woman Because this man was a stranger. A stranger with a cute, little, green child. He was nothing to you, new to the planet perhaps, definitely new to the palace and this line of work. You were sure you would remember such a sparkling set of eyes, accident or not.

Glancing back into your room, you wished they hadn’t brought you so much for lunch. Wanting to share in the abundance of it with someone who could use a little help. Being a guard couldn’t pay well and the man had a child and a sick wife to take care of. The fruit and skewers of marinated meat far too plentiful for just yourself. You didn’t want it to go to waste but you also didn’t want to force any more appetite than you had. Offering it to him would be a good attempt to make sure it didn’t go to waste.

“They brought me a lot of food, would-would you like me to make you a plate?”

“I can’t leave my post.”

“What if you came inside and we sat on the balcony? Furthest place from the door and you would be close enough to me should any threats arise.”

“That sounds very tempting. But it would be a violation for me to leave my post.”

“Oh, okay. That’s okay, I know it’s a lot to ask of you. It’s just…” You couldn’t look up at his face, his eyes that were no doubt still watching you closely. You felt embarrassed for being so forward, for asking this stranger for his time when he was working. Of course he didn’t want to come into your room and share a meal. “No, I understand. Thank you for your service.”

Turning to go back into the room, the door was stopped from closing by a large hand, thick fingers curling around the edge of it.

“I want to, mesh’la. Please don’t mistake that.”

“Can- can I ask for your name?” He paused, eyes looking you up and down as he thought over the positives and negatives of providing you with such information.

“It’s Aliit.”

“Aliit…and?”

“Oh, ad’ika.”

Aliit, Ad’ika, and…”

“Cyar’ika.” Your heartbeat hard in in your chest, so much so that you brought a hand to rest over your chest. The foreign language rolling off your tongue with ease despite never encountering it before meeting this man. They were not in Basic, nor any other language you were aware of knowing or being able to speak.

“Aliit, Ad’ika, and Cyar’ika.” You nodded your head at him, small smile gracing your lips despite the ringing still plaguing you. He bids you a good day, the sound of another guard’s footsteps coming down the hall.

The ringing lasts well into the night.

When it doesn’t abate by the next morning, your mother orders the handmaidens to prepare you for a trip to the medical wing, across the palace grounds. Your door was being guarded by a different guard and you worried you made the man from the market uncomfortable. Your heart sunk as you walked alongside a new woman who was in your services.

She was pretty, her hair dark and long, pulled back away from her face by a thin headscarf of dark blue. Her dress was a light sky blue, accents of the darker shade allowing for her to look beautiful in the ensemble of fabric. Though it didn’t seem like her normal attire, her arms toned and muscled from what had to be years of training and work. Her thighs stocky and thick as they moved underneath the fabric and guided you down the halls and out of the main building. You wondered what turned her to this line of work, if she had been a slave and sold to the palace to work off or cover her debt. You made sure to file the thought away and treat her to lunch each day should she have not much in the other aspects of her life.

The sun shone on her pale skin, and you wondered if she had on some kind of gloss over her plush lips for the glint to them.

She was pretty and you wanted to let her know. Though after yesterday, you were afraid of being seen as some frivolous princess who didn’t have any friends and needed to turn her attention to those in her service for conversation. Because it was true, you realized with a particularly painful throb of your head, that you didn’t have any friends who had called on you since your accident. Unable to recall if you were a social person before, you resigned yourself to the solitary routine of your life, only meals shared with others in your life.

She was kind, stopping every so often around the grounds as you stopped when the ringing made it hard to concentrate on putting one foot in front of the other.

“I apologize – oh Maker, I don’t even know your name.” You leaned heavily against a stone pillar, head pounding with the incessant ringing. It sounded- at brief moments – like you were surrounding by strong wind, the hush of sand all around so intense or as if you were aboard a ship and flying through the air.

“My name is Cynth, princess.” She was close, close enough to catch you should your balance falter. “It’s okay, though, I’m new, no need to apologize.”

“She doesn’t care what your name is, she’s depending on you to get her to the medical wing, not make small talk.” The other handmaiden interrupted.

“Janae, you know I make a point to know everyone’s names. There’s no need to be so curt.” You lightly reprimanded, wanting everyone to know that you see them as they truly are. Your mother was so short and demanding with the help around the palace, stirring distaste and unease in you that you didn’t want to imitate her. “Please be kind to each other, sometimes that all we have in this universe, is the kindness of those around us. It can be lifesaving, so let’s try a little better, okay?”

“Yes, princess.” Janae bows to you, the fabric of her dress catching the breeze coming through the open corridor.

Moments later, all three of you were entering the medical wing. There was a droid who had to record the time and date of your visit before guiding you to the room you had been in far too much for your liking. Your mother’s perfume was faint, giving away her presence in the examination room. She was vigilant over your recovery, present at any small visit or worry. And you wanted to feel loved and grateful for her worry but it didn’t feel quite so…genuine even if she preached about getting you back to your old self on the daily.

“I-They tell me I had a bad fall, that’s why I don’t really remember anything from before.” You say as the two women helps moves to help you disrobe. But you startle, not liking the sensation of them pulling on your clothing.

“Please, both of you go and enjoy an early dinner. I can manage here by myself.” Cynth quietly ordered, hoping that less people in the room would help to calm you. It was a good judgement call, because as soon as the two nurses left you felt the anxiety skittering over your skin abate. You felt comfortable with her, and she helped you remove the layers of your flowing dress to change into the smock they needed you in to perform their exam and testing.

She was tense, uncomfortable in this setting, nestled in the medical wing alongside you. You could sense it in the cracking of her knuckles as she helped you to shrug on a robe over your undergarments. In the way she watched as a droid came out of the exam room alongside your mother and a man draped in a dark red tunic. Her jaw was clenched as she watched the way you let them guide you into the room they had just come from. The prick of a needle injecting something into your arm already taking effect.

“Cynth, please stay with me? We can get lunch after.”

“Of course, Princess San.”

“Servants are to only use last names when addressing the royal line. Show’s the respect they have for the rulers of the city.” You mothers voice was sharp, a warning simmering low in her words.

“It’s okay.” You slurred as your vision began to fade, edges of everything fuzzy, colors bleeding into each other. “We’re friends, mother.”

“Hush now, darling. You have to keep up the line between servants and your friends are not true if they haven’t come to visit you. We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, mother. My…friend,” At an encouraging smile at the edge of her lips you turned back to your mother. “Cynth is my friend, and I would like for her to remain with me during the day.”

Pursing her lips, she looked like she wanted to contest the request. Refraining from doing so, her lips turned up in a saccharine smile before she ushered you through the doorway into the exam room.

It was expansive, a giant machine taking up one half of the room, a set of three beds lining the other. Cabinets of supplies and a small desk with an electronic bank set up before it.

But the machine, was a blur, the contents of whatever she had administered taking hold fast. The last thing you recall is glancing over your shoulder over at Cynth and seeing her features morph into a stone caste, eyes hard.

“It’s worse than we thought.” Cara announced as she entered the servants’ quarters. There was an entire wing for them on the second floor of the palace. Dining room, kitchen, ballrooms and throne room all on the first floor. Library and green house rooms, the seamstress and many other “service” rooms set up on the third. The fourth was the bath house and other rooms they had been forbade from approaching. The family bedrooms on the fifth floor, balconies in each one. The medical wing was across the courtyard, outdoor hallways lined with covers supported by thick stone pillars.

Her and Din being assigned to one room with twin cots on opposite walls. Hired at the same time and kept on close tabs during the ‘review process’ to determine where they were to be stationed for their contracts. It had been easy enough, the palace needing to fill holes in security at the behest of your mother. Din had offered his services as a close guard for you, citing that he had experience with protecting high standing individuals. Cara had been automatically assigned to be a handmaiden, you dismissing one earlier that week for some reason that went unexplained.

Din looked up from where he was tending to ad’ika, the small being agitated beyond comforting. As if he could sense you were close by but too far for him to see and interact with. He missed you, he craved your calming presence and easy going care for him, Din suspected. He knows he did, the you before the manipulation, before the kidnapping, before he had gone and fucked it all up and allowed for this to happen to you.

“Her mother’s found and employed an ex-Empire director, they’ve constructed a mind flayer in the medical wing. San undergoes ‘exams’ twice a month under the close supervision of two nurse droids and the director.” Cara took in the way Din stiffened, his mind going over everything he knew of such machines only rumored to be still in operation. Of the atrocities committed in the name of getting back to a peaceful time of before the Empire’s rule by using the very same technology they had invented.

“Did her mother stay in the room?” His distaste bordering on hatred marring his words, giving away his feelings of the woman who dared to call herself your guardian and caretaker these days. He never thought himself capable of unaltered hate, but here he was. He could only go far as to guess it had to do with the same feelings he never expected to feel towards another, of falling for someone as completely as he had done with you. But of course, he had gone and messed everything up. Tainted the happy memories he had allowed himself to create with you after suck a rocky and tentative start after finding you shackled in that compound.

It was only every supposed to be another job, another quarry to collect and deliver. Instead he had found the child, found you. Managing through lack of cognitive thinking and examination of his feelings causing him to return the child only to decimate his professional career and standing in order to right his wrongs. He thought he had learned his lesson, only to repeat it with you.

“No, she left. But she does administer the sedative. I’m sure we can somehow take over those ‘exams’.”

“We have to.” His voice was firm, emotions in check as he moved to sit atop his cot. “We have to stop the sessions, it’s the only way her mind can heal itself and she can remember.”

“I think she’s already beginning to, something about her abilities wearing down the effects of the flayer quicker than her mother can keep up with. She’s complained of a headache since we got here, since she interacted with the kid in the marketplace.”

“Then we need to find a way to have her interact with him more, shift her memory back into place.”

“…she’s so quiet, constantly on alert. Taking stock of everything going on around her. I swear her mind is working more than she’s letting on. She was watching me this morning, almost as if she was trying to figure out if she recognized me from somewhere.” Cara theorizes as she recalls the way you were when she had first met you, back on K’ath.

“She…she said I feel familiar to her.” Din admitted quietly, his heart skipping a beat as he recalled the way you had looked at him. The worry of offending him with your honesty, with your relief of realizing you knew him from the marketplace, of feeling like you were able to ask him things you couldn’t of others.

Stealing glances down each hallway, you make your way through the palace on quiet feet. The only sound to give you away is the hush of your dress layers brushing against your legs. In your hand is lighting agent you had snatched from Prince Cala’s office. The low thrumming of a headache still present after your visit to the medical wing and subsequent night of unconsciousness, though it wasn’t nearly as debilitating as it had been yesterday. With bated breath, you turn into the expansive and lush nursery.

Hiding in a corner, you push on the glass panel of the large windows and breath in the hot, humid air to calm yourself. Reaching into the pouch hidden beneath your layers, you retrieve one of the tabac rolls you had requested from a handmaiden. She had frowned at the way you had asked her to keep it from your mother, but the second you lit the end of it and inhaled, all of your colliding thoughts vanished. It was a guilty pleasure you were sure wouldn’t look good to the public eye. But one you weren’t willing to give up. One you were sure was something from the time before your accident.

Steps that were nearly silent caught your attention and you looked toward the arching doorway, the clear glass paneling of it nearly visible from your hidden spot. A figure was pushing them open, hinges squealing slightly as a familiar voice called out your name.

Sighing, you shifted slightly, giving away your spot hidden among the lush greenery. You dress allowing you to blend in. It was made of a transparent layer of tulle over smooth silk, lighter green than the leaves around you. But the flowers sewn into the fabric allowed you to blend in with those that were blooming among so many of the plants too sensitive to be out in the courtyard, out in the direct heat and sunlight of the unforgiving desert sun.

Allit came into view, his eyes taking in the sight of you looking slightly nervous as you were found out smoking in a room that you definitely should not be. But it was the only one your mother wouldn’t follow you into, the perfumes of the flowers too much for her sensitive nose.

“Apologies, I thought I heard someone in here but it’s an odd hour for me to be up an about. Instincts took over.” He motions to the sleeping form in his arms before setting ad’ika down atop a bench. You feel for him, how tired he must be from watching the child during the day and then standing guard all night.

“I could, I mean, if you don’t-“ You cut yourself off, knowing it was a breech of the already muddled professional line between you both. Instead, you take another drag of the tabac before putting out the inch remaining from the roll and depositing it into an empty planter under the window sill.

“What is it, mesh’la?” His eyes find yours, genuine curiosity swirling in them as he approached you.

“I could watch him for you, if you’re okay with that. I know how tiring the night shift must be. Gives you a chance to rest in the mornings and gives me a little company.” Embarrassment at the care your exhibiting prickles the hairs on the back of your neck on along your arms swathed in sheer fabric. If you were being completely honest, you needed a distraction from the routine of your life. Wanting to feel like you were doing something, helping someone. The company of the child something you had been thinking about after a few passing interactions.

“I think…he would like that.”

“Make sure he has a balanced breakfast and enough entertainment to sleep soundly in the evenings.”

“He’d like that too.”

“And you?”

His eyes bore into yours, something in them that trapped the breath in your throat and your fingers itch to reach out.

“I’d like that very much.”

You feel the urge to reach out and pull him to you, he’s already so close. His broad body angled towards you, his eyes locked on your form, as if he’s seeing the skin hidden beneath the layers. Anticipation titters through you as you see the faint movement of his jaw twitching beneath the fabric draped over his face. Without realizing it, you had reached out, fingers skimming the outline of his cheek hidden from view. His eyes fluttered shut, his own hand coming up to gently clasp over your wrist. Though he made no move to step away or remove your hand.

“Apologies,” You jerk your fingers away, aware that he was not yours to touch, his skin not yours to caress your fingers over, his lips not yours to kiss. He belonged to another and so did you.

“You don’t have to apologize, mesh’la.”

“I-I feel like I know you, but I…I don’t and you belong to another.” You step back from him, the leaves of the leaves all around hushing as you did so. But he follows, step for step until your back is against the wall. But you don’t feel caged in or uncomfortable. You feel desire swirl in your middle, heat thrum just under your skin. He’s closer than he had been before, his chest flush with yours and his hands holding yours down by your waist, fingers tangled together. His eyes are sparkling when they meet yours, the brown of them lit up from the sun shining in through the large windows.

Your breath catches in your throat, nerves alight and you feel like you were floating.

“I do and I do not.” He says cryptically. But you have no chance to decipher the meaning behind his words as the bright jingle of your handmaiden’s bracelets float into the room from the hall.

“Princess? Your bath has been drawn if you wish to get ready for bed.” Her voice calls into the room, unable to see you hidden among the plants. With a lingering look, you separate from Aliit and make your way towards the door.

“Princess Cala, your mother and fiancé have made it very clear that you are not to be left alone. Especially in a place as vulnerable as the bath house.” Janea was trying not to overstep her place, but she was doing her best to uphold the orders she had been given.

“I’ll be fine, I just need a moment to myself. Please understand.”

“I would feel better if there was a guard just inside the door, the tapestries will keep you hidden.” The visceral urge to demand she leave and drop the subject was strong and you choked down the harsh words before they burst from your lips. The thought of someone being in the same room with you as you disrobe and bathe not settling well with you at all. Instincts flaring and the urge to fight making your muscles tense.

“I can call on Sir Aliit? I know you feel comfortable with him, he would never hurt you or put you in harm’s way.” Something flared in your chest- nervousness, excitement, at the thought of Aliit being close by. Of the man keeping an eye out for you while you were at your most vulnerable.

“He’s the night guard, it’s still too early for his shift.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, Princess. He is dutiful and committed to keeping you safe.” Cynth spoke up, having been waiting at the entrance of the room for you.

“O-okay, call on him then. Please.”

Moments later, the quiet steps of the man can be heard in the hallway accompanied by the soft, incoherent babbling of his child.

“I’m sorry, he wasn’t quite ready for bed.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” You lilt, reaching for the wiggling figure in his grip. Cooing softly, the child began to giggle at the tresses of your loose hair, reaching to wrap his fingers in them. Small face buried in your neck his muffled sounds still lift into the air. “He’s just a lil fussy, nothing a warm bath won’t fix. Isn’t that right?”

“Oh, that’s not nece-“

“I don’t mind, I said I’d offer to help with him. It must be hard caring for him all on your own.” You smile at Aliit, taking note of the hands he had been stretching to collect his child back. Off to the side, Cynth is taking in the scene with a quirk of her lips. Having taken over watching you while Janae had gone to fetch the guard you were beginning to think of more than was appropriate.

Steam fills the expansive room, ornate stone walls covered in glittering and shimmering tapestries. The rich neutral tones highlighted by sapphire blues, bright turquoise, and deep oranges of tiles set in mesmerizing designs along the lips and edges of the large bath. It could easily fit four to five people, more of a sauna than a typical refresher. But it was peaceful in the room, even if you were hyper aware of the stoic form of Aliit on the other side of the cloth wall where a few tapestries had been drawn closed.

Ad’ika is gurgling away happily as you lower his small body into the water. It was a little too deep for him, but you had found a small floating cushion for him that was working as a makeshift raft for him to sit atop and be submerged up to his belly button. One of his little three fingered claws was wrapped around your arm and you felt the same energy from the marketplace flow into you. But instead of overwhelming you, it made you feel calm and collected. Centered.

You feel…comfortable around him despite not being too fond of children. And then there was his father.

Allit made you feel so much more like yourself, even despite being a little unaware of who that might be exactly. More so than anyone else in your constructed life, more so than Prince Cala. Something that sits in the forefront of your mind as the days drag on and your memory remains foggy. You were glad for him, even if he was a new addition to the routine and frankly, boring agenda your life was structured around. The man was tall, silent. Easy strength and skill obvious in his every move, in the velvet of his deep voice, the warmth of his eyes. But it didn’t unnerve you like the other guards, who seemed to be watching your every move. The hint of hidden directives underlying their attention and postings.

But Aliit…he was willing to converse with you. To allow you to speak with him as an equal without pointing out that it was unbecoming of royalty to do so. He answered your questions, and you could sense he had some of his own, sometimes letting them slip from the lips you wish you could see beneath the fabric covering his mouth. Masks weren’t part of the uniform, but he constantly had one in place. It was both comforting to know he was confident enough to feel like he could continue to bear it, and if you were honest…it was a little thrilling to find that he was willing to open up to you despite it.

The front of the room had cushioned benches, even a table filled with sweets and dips partnered with flat breads. Almost as if it were a living room or lounge room to idle in. But you had ignored it to delve further into the room. The bath was set up along the back wall, the right lined with shower heads resembling ferocious animal heads, mouths open in roars to allow for the water to flow from them.

Busing yourself with lathering up a loofa, you smiled down at the giggling child. He was so happy, so easy to please. Unbridled joy easy to draw from him as you had offered him to smell each of the bathing oil and soap options until he had liked one. He picked a lightly floral scent, one that reminded you of blooming trees from the time of before your accident. A rich, woodsy scent with the underlying current of it.

Once you were sure he was scrubbed clean, his laughter at the tickling sensation making warmth bloom in your chest, you wished for this to be your life. To spend your days with the child and his father, as if this was a normal occurrence for the trio you made. Taking pleasure in the small things, in the calm of a daily routine.

Rinsing him off in the bath, you wrapped him in a towel. Sending him to sit atop a stone bench a few feet from the baths edge, you began to lather up a second loofa with the same soap. Once you were covered in suds, you stood from the water. Stepping over the edge, a jolt of pain made you lose your balance, and you knocked over the bottle of soap as you tried to catch yourself.

“San?” Allit was suddenly pulling back the colorful tapestries that divided the room. You stilled as you were hunched over and reaching for the bottle where it had sunk to the bottom of the bath. His eyes widened just a fraction at the sight of your skin on display, bubbles covering very little from view. Arousal throbbed deep in your middle, tingling across your heated skin at the brief feeling of his eyes roving over your skin.

Your stomach jolted at the idea of him seeing you, his eyes taking in the scene before him.

“Apologies!” He choked out before receding back a little and facing away from you, though he didn’t disappear from view. “I thought, I was just checking to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m-yes, of course. Just- yes.” You stuttered, unsure where the sudden feeling of arousal had come from, of why him seeing you in nothing hadn’t ignited the same sense of fear and instinct to fight as the mere intention of your handmaiden’s helping you to disrobe. “We’re both okay, just knocked something over.”

“Copy that, yeah.” His voice so smooth as it washed over you. “I’ll…leave you to it, then.”

And he was gone, leaving you in that same hunched over position. Your heart was beating quickly, blood rushing in your ears, body alight with tingling arousal. With a sigh, you berated yourself for the sudden feelings as your hand wrapped around the bottle and put it back in the little basket with the rest of the soaps and oils.

“I demand to see my fiancé!” A booming voice could be heard in the back of the bath. The hush of conversation following the shout drowned out by the running of water as you washed off in one of the stalls. Ad’ika was wrapped in a towel, sitting half asleep and waiting for you to redress him. Wrapping your own towel around your damp body, you drew back the fabric enclosing the stall only to come face to face with both Aliit and Prince Cala. Both had crossed the threshold into the marbled portion of the bath.

“Oh!”

“My dear princess, your guard needs to be informed he is to break your requests in favor of mine. If I wish to see you, I am able to despite you saying you wish to not be disturbed.” He didn’t offer apologies for intruding on your privacy, bouldering his way further into the room despite the glare being aimed at him from beneath thick brows.

“Y-yes, my heart. I-I apologize.” Tightening the hold of the towel around your body, you were hyperaware of this being the most exposed you had been in front of the man who was to be your husband. It didn’t stir any feelings of excitement or arousal in you, instead you felt nausea rise to prickle your skin in an uncomfortable chill.

“You are not to be left alone under any circumstances, do you hear me?” The man stepped forward, his hand reaching for your bare shoulder. You ignored the urge to back away from him, aware of Aliit watching the scene unfold just a few steps behind him, of the energy flowing from him as he obviouslt disagreed with the way things were unfolding. Cala didn’t seem to mind the gaze of the other man as he stepped up to you, hand snaking around your shoulders while his other slipped underneath your towel to grasp at your bare waist. Eyes downcast, you let him touch you. He hadn’t raised a hand to you or given you reason to think he would harm you.

“Even if you are bathing, a guard or handmaiden is to be within viewing range. I don’t care if he’s to see you, you are far too fragile to be left to your own devices.” Humiliation floods you, heating you too much to bear as the steam of the room and the hot water of the bath begins to stifle you. You choke on a response, eyes downcast as you can’t bring yourself to look up from the stone floor. But he didn’t like that, the way you were stuck and unresponsive. “You look at me when I speak to you.”

“Y-yes, sir.” You brought your gaze up to his face, glancing behind his shoulder at the other man before focusing on your intended’s eyes. “I apologize for-“

“You are to dress and go to my quarters.” His hand slid down your damp skin, fingers brushing against the thatch of hair over your most intimate area. You gasped out, he had never even so much as kissed you unprompted. And even then, it was always chaste. But this side of him…it was bound to come to light, he was a man after all and you were to be his. His eyes dilated at the feel of your silken folds as his fingers skimmed over your skin.

“Yes, s-sir.”

“Ensure she dresses appropriately, guard. Maker, I don’t care if you have to force the clothing onto her, she should look fitting for the night ahead of her.” He cocked his head to the side at the resounding silence of the room, tension so thick it was only adding to the overwhelming heat. Dark eyes narrowing, Cala’s grip tightened, bordering on almost painful as he demanded an answer. “Guard, do you understand?”

“Yes.” Came the quick reply from the man behind him. Voice devoid of all emotion, velvet given way to gravel.

Smirking in satisfaction, Cala moved in a rather harsh swipe of his fingers up through your folds, catching on the hood of your cunt. You couldn’t tamp down the startled cry as the tips of them brushed over your clit, more painful than scintillating. Before you could even register the move, he was turning away from you and stomping out the door.

He delivered one last command over his shoulder.

“There are wrapped presents that have been delivered to your closet. Dress her from one of those, I expect to see you in less than an hour.”

The second the door shut at the front of the room, your knees gave out and you found yourself crumbling to the ground. Strong arms softened the blow, cradling you close to a sturdy body, keeping your towel wrapped around your trembling body. Humiliation overwhelmed you, anxiety rising something awful in you as you sunk into the warmth of the body holding you close. He didn’t stir anything in you, his touch comforting and tight around you.

“I’ve got you, mesh’la.” Allit’s deep voice soothed as he pulled you to him, body so close and encasing you. But you didn’t feel trapped or caged, you felt comforted by his closeness. You opened your mouth to assure him you were okay, but a wet hiccup was what fell from your lips.

Time passes and your memory still does not return. You’ve resigned yourself to this choreographed dance of your life. Breakfast with your mother, who tends to watch you so closely you feel like a creature on display. She bids you a good day before going about her business, something she claims is left over from your lives before you got entangled with the prince of the planet’s sole city. She had yet to allow you to share in her work, her craftmanship of forging armor pieces of chainmail. You often felt restless, thinking the act of participating would help to sooth you, help you to focus.

You dream of making pieces of armor, of donning others. The smooth metal cool underneath your fingertips eliciting both mundane things and…rather debauched thoughts of a large body pulling pleasure from you as easy as breathing.

You occupy yourself with walks through the gardens, of watching over Aliit’s child during the day before handing off the tiny creature who could barely keep his eyes open to the man before joining your intended for dinner. A nightcap with your mother, often tea since she insisted caf before sleeping was bad for your condition. But it was the stolen moments with Cynth and Aliit that you looked forward to the most.

The handmaiden often accompanying you during your walks, soft conversations of her time before being employed by the palace. Of the things she’s lived and endured. You feel very close with her, almost friendly with her as you often share lunch.

Aliit often gave in to your requests for him to sit in the lounge area of your room or out on the balcony in the late hours of the night. Sleep evading you as surreal and vivid dreams plagued you, making it hard to lay back down once you were waking from them with gasping breath and confusing thoughts.

You don’t dwell on the happenings of the night Cala demanded of you. He hadn’t touched you, not beyond his harsh and brash show of possession in the bath house. But the things he had said to you and the way he demanded you touch him had been something you hadn’t wanted. His once chaste kisses turning into his tongue breaking the seal of your lips as he bid you goodnight at the end of each dinner as he dropped you off at your bedroom door. It all felt like a show, a way to display his possession of you to the man who was your night guard. But despite his now harsh kisses that stole your breath in the worst way, you worried for Aliit having to witness the behavior. It had been…something you didn’t like to think about.

It was definitely something you didn’t talk about. With anyone.

The only consolation was that your headaches seemed to abate, the ringing in your ears no longer springing up at random moments. Despite being your night guard, Aliit was now a prominent figure that accompanied you to each visit to the medical wing. They were still as foggy as the memories of your time before the accident, but you felt something shift inside. Mind no longer seeming to work in overdrive to recall things, errant memories of traveling to unknown places alongside faintly familiar figures becoming something you felt throughout the days.

You were consumed by the mere thought of Aliit on the other side of your bedroom door. He often started the night off inside the room, heeding the orders of Prince Cala. Though he often stepped outside once you fell asleep, the door right behind him should he need to retreat at the sound of footsteps to keep up appearances. He was always so serious, so still. Never moving at the errant sounds of the palace. Of the other guards doing their rounds within the many halls. Always on alert, though his eyes hardly moved to give it away.

“I know it’s late,” You started to say as you opened the bedroom door. Aliit was immediately turning to face you, his hands clasped behind his back. “But do you want to come in for some tea?”

“Of course, mesh’la.”

He busied himself readying the tea in the small nook that housed a hotplate and a kettle, giving you a moment of peace to gather yourself from your most recent almost waking dream. You had been in a different desert, at a different time. Alone. It hadn’t been anything spectacular, you had simply been living out a day with a routine that felt like it had once been your reality.

“Can I be honest with you, since we’ve…bonded over our shared time?”

“You can share anything with me and I’ll listen, mesh’la.” His voice, his words always so sincere with you, it caused warmth to flare in your chest. You chewed on your bottom lip, contemplating voicing the thoughts that had been consuming you lately. The twice a month check ups having been unsupervised by your mother, Aliit and Cynth taking over those duties. Ever since they had entered the palace you felt…like something was off kilter. But you also felt like… some things were beginning to shift into focus.

You recalled the feeling of heat from a different desert, from a different time in your life. The same from so many of your dreams. Countered by the plush landscape ripe with trees and temperate air. Dreams that felt all too real consumed your sleeping hours, a blurry figure swathed in shining metal beginning to appear beside you in each one.

And while you didn’t know why or how, you began to associate the same sense of calm and comfortability the figure stirred in you with that of Aliit beside you more and more. You let your eyes wander over his seated form now, beside you in the small longue area across from your bed. The room was still far too expansive, making you feel like a bird trapped in a gilded cage as your mother prohibited you from leaving the palace grounds more and more as the wedding loomed near.

“I…I don’t feel like this is my life. I feel like I belong somewhere else, with someone else.”

His eyes soften, the brown of them comforting as they watch you struggle to find the right words. You don’t feel as if he is waiting for something, like so many others you interact with. He seems to hold genuine interest in what you have to say, never glossing over anything even if it seems childish or meaningless.

“I can’t explain it, it just feels like…there’s something more for me. And I know I should be happy here, it’s a beautiful planet, the stars are so bright at night, the ocean is so clear. Anything I need is just a request away, my intended is very attentive and wants for me to have nothing. Even if he’s…altered the way we spend some of our time together. My mother, she cares for me despite my memory of her being foggy. But…Maker, I feel like this is all wrong. Like I belong somewhere else that I can’t recall. That the person meant to be beside me…is someone else. And I feel homesick for the things I can’t remember. For the lands and planets I see in my dreams. For the figure beside me in each and every one.”

You can sense that he has something to say, but he remains quiet. His eyes the only thing speaking in the comfortable silence of your bedroom. Too many words and thoughts swirling behind the chocolate depths as they regard you. He only offers them and a hand for you to reach out to, sliding your fingers between his and reveling in the warmth of his skin against yours. After a long while, his soothing voice comforts you in a way that takes your breath away.

“We’ll get you back to feeling like yourself, where you belong. I swear it to you, mesh’la.” He shifted from his own chair to sit atop the low table, heights almost matched now. He leaned forward, but you didn’t shy away from him, giving into the moment when he pressed his clothed forehead to yours. Breath hitching, your eyes fluttered shut, unable to take in the emotions swirling behind his beautiful eyes as they caught the lanterns light. He felt…he felt familiar. More like the shape of the man you had been feeling when you first woke up, though you knew it to be a trick of your imagination. How could you possible feel such a connection with a stranger you had only met after your accident when your memory was something hidden deep inside of you or gone altogether?

“Th-thank you, ner kar’ta.” The foreign words falling from your lips surprise you as much as they seem to do him. You repeat them in a questioning tone, his hand tightening around yours. Your eyes flew open, gentle sentiment behind the words not lost on you in that moment. Hope was shining in the man’s eyes, so close…even as he leans back to look you over.

“Do you know what that means?” You could tell that he holds back other questions, other concerns as he regards you with a hardness behind his eyes. But it isn’t aimed at you, the ire you see flare up in their depths. It’s never for you, the things you see flicker in them. He only ever offers you the softest version of himself. Enough so that Cynth has begun to tease you of it during your time together during the day.

“I-I think it means ‘my heart’.” You hesitate, feeling like it’s far too intimate a sentiment for someone who is not your intended. But you feel it, in the very depths of your soul, that it is okay to call the man sitting beside you so.

“It does.” He almost sounds proud and you rather like the tone coming from him. It stirs something low in your stomach, almost as strong as that once occurrence of arousal before everything shifted between you Prince Cala.

“I don’t know why I said that, I don’t…even know what language that is. How-“

“Ner kar’ta, ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” His eyes don’t leave yours, filling you up with something you don’t think you’ve ever felt, fragmented memory seeming to stitch together at the flash of emotion. Suddenly, you feel the gentle breeze and cresting sunlight and you’re standing in the midst of an open field. A figure is standing before you, decked head to toe in beautiful, shining armor with their hands held out in front of them in a placating manner. The silver swathed figure from your dreams in full focus now as you hold Aliit’s hand in yours. Fingers feeling the warmth of him as they caress his skin, the energy from him that is so soothing. Behind him is the shadow of a large ship and you long to be back there in that moment even as it feels both hauntingly foreign and familiar to you.

“What is going on here? You’re supposed to be at your post protecting my daughter.” The harsh voice of your mother surges into the room from the now open doorway. You spring from the man beside you, heart beating harshly in your chest, a barrage of emotions flaring in you. The rattling of the fine porcelain on the low table separating you startling you. Your eyes move from the vibrating cups and plates to the man beside you, and then to the glaring and obviously upset form of your mother.

“He’s following the orders of Prince Cala, who explicitly stated that I am to be supervised at all times, mother.”

“I highly doubt the prince instructed this man to dote such attention on you to the point of holding your hand in the middle of the night!”

Anger and distaste for the woman across from you flares hot over your entire body, energy igniting inside of you that feels both far too familiar and far too foreign. The very same energy you had been feeling more and more in the things and people around you, almost as if it was a secondary thing to breathing, to existing. The glare marring her features twists in your mind and you feel the weight of heavy metal around your wrists, your ankles, your neck. You feel the phantom dredge of something chemical buzzing in your veins and you know- you know that she’s the cause for such sensations.

“I want to know exact details of my accident.” You demand, aware of Aliit standing at attention behind you, his muscles tense just as yours are. Though you do not fear him, you fear the woman who calls herself your mother. Pushing through, you meet her eyes with your own and something in your own expression surprises her. Feeding off of that genuine reaction, not something that seems so calculated, you demand of her, “I want to know what happened to me.”

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inthe-dark-tonight · 9 months

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And All the Stars Align

chapter one: across the room, your silhouette

din djarin x princess!reader series

chapter two

summary: your mother seeks out the well known mandalorian, din djarin, to help your planet by fighting in a duel. what starts as a strong distaste for the armored man grows into something more.

word count: 1.7k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no use of y/n, slow burn, slight enemies to lovers, some helmetless din, no physical descriptions of reader other than clothing a few times, no mentions of age gap so read however you’d like, not really that many warnings yet :)

notes: this is the first thing i’ve ever written, i’ve just been really nervous to post it but here it is!!! i also was slightly inspired by padme and anakin’s relationship in episode 2 & 3 so you may see some similarities here and there. this will be multiple chapters, not sure how many yet but know that it will be quite a few lol. thank you to my loves @shatteredbaby & @javiscigarette for beta reading and brainstorming with me mwah. also @pr0ximamidnight for listening to me ramble about this fic and also encouraging me to keep writing ily

He’s sitting in the cantina on Nevarro minding his business, when he suddenly feels a presence behind him.

“Can I help you?” His deep voice booms through the modulator on his helmet. He doesn’t bother to turn around.

The man standing close behind him clears his throat before speaking. “I’m visiting from the planet Xeron. I was sent by the queen in search of a Mandalorian named Din Djarin.” He pauses, hesitating for a moment. “I was told he could be found here.”

Din turns around in his seat and props his elbow up to lean back on the counter nonchalantly. “You’ve found him.” He says in a flat tone. Although his face is covered with a beskar helmet, his voice is enough to make anyone intimidated. “You have one minute to explain what you’re here for.”

The advisor swallows hard and clears his throat. “I- uh,”

“Fifty-six seconds.” the Mandalorian says, his voice coming out deep and monotone.

“Our planet, Xeron, is having a quarrel of sorts with our sister planet, Arkam, and we need help. We need your help.” He hesitated for a quick moment, a bit flustered. “Word around the inner rim is that you’re a great fighter, you’ve taken down a mudhorn, a kryat dragon, the list goes on and on. We’re desperately in need of someone to fight. Someone who will win.”

“What’s in it for me?”

A week later the Mandalorian is on his way to Xeron. Your mother, the queen, insisted that he come a week early to settle in before the duel. She had said we should lend him our hospitality for what he’s agreed to do for our planet, so there’s going to be a welcome dinner hosted tonight when he arrives.

You’re currently in your room getting ready to leave when there’s a knock on your door. “Come in.” The door opens a crack and you see Jem poke her head in.

Jem is your closest friend, though she’s more of an assistant of sorts. You don’t like to think of her that way, she’s just your friend that also happens to keep watch over you and help you out with anything you might need.

“Are you almost ready? Your mother is already in the grand hall awaiting your arrival.” She raises her brow at you, knowing that you always tend to be late.

“Yes just- give me a second. I’ll be right out.” You smile before she shuts the door behind her.

You turn towards your mirror and take a deep breath. Why are you so nervous? It’s not like you haven’t attended banquets for visitors in the past. You run your gloved hands over your floor length dress and take one last look in the mirror before turning to leave.

When you open the door Jem is waiting there for you, also wearing a long elegant dress for the occasion. She turns to walk down the hall and you quickly follow.

“Are you curious to see what he’s like?” She asks as you make your way towards the grand hall.

You look at her slightly confused “….who?”

She blinks at you, waiting for you to say something else. “The Mandalorian, you know, the one your mother hired to fight in the duel?” She gives you an odd look before the two of you step into the elevator. “I’ve heard he’s quiet, a little mysterious. I guess we’ll see for ourselves.” A smirk grows on her face as she says the words.

When the elevator doors open again, you quickly round the corner to see that the doors to the great hall are wide open and the room is flooded with people. Some are gathered standing in large groups, others are sitting at the large tables spread around the room. You look around the room and see your mother through the crowd, sitting in her usual spot. You walk towards her smiling here and there at guests as you pass by.

“You’re here! We can get started finally.” She gestures something to one of the royal guards, seconds later you hear a loud noise signaling that dinner will be served shortly. In the next couple of minutes everyone is finally seated, Jem sitting next to you. You glance around noticing that someone’s missing, the guest of honor. Great first impression, you think to yourself. If he can’t even arrive on time, how’s he going to win this fight?

You can see your mother glancing around the room frantically. “Where is he?” She mumbles to herself. The guests are chatting at a low volume, probably wondering what’s going on as well.

All of a sudden one of the doors to the royal hall opens, everyone’s head snaps towards that direction to get a look. As you look around the room, everyone’s quiet and still. It’s like the world has stopped. You hear heavy steps growing closer and what sounds like something clanking. Finally you look towards the door and your eyes land on him. The Mandalorian.

He’s covered head to toe in beskar armor, and the visor on his helmet creates a t shape. There’s a sway in his step, he walks with confidence and you can feel the air in the room has changed just from his presence. Your mother stands from her chair as he gets closer, and everyone else in the room follows. You’re so mesmerized by him and the confidence in each step he takes that you end up being the last to stand, eyes never leaving his captivating form. When he gets to you and your mother he bows his head, leaving your mother ecstatic.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our guest of honor, Din Djarin.” She gestures towards him. “The Mandalorian.” the room applauds.

He nods and takes a seat next to your mother, everyone following her lead to sit. Your mother looks at one of the royal guards and droids start coming from the kitchen with plates full of food, placing them at every table.

Your mother turns her head to Din “Thank you so much for being here tonight, I’m glad you could make it a week early. We want to show our thanks, and how greatly appreciative we are.” she smiles at him.

Din turns his head towards her and nods. “Thank you for your hospitality.” His voice is deep coming through his modulator, it sends a chill down your spine. You’re still staring at him when your mother starts to speak.

“This is my daughter.” Your mother fully sits back in her chair so he can look past her and see you properly.

He turns his head towards you. “Princess.” He nods his head again. What Jem heard is true. He really doesn’t say much, but you feel squeamish under his gaze.

“We really are more grateful than you could ever imagine.” Your mother smiles again. “Please! Help yourself!” Your mother gestures to the table full of food.

Jem nudges your shoulder and you turn to her, finally breaking your gaze away from Din. She’s smirking “I told you” she whispers before reaching to fill her plate.

You’re trying not to stare at this point, just looking out the corner of your eye. You pile a few things onto your plate and before you can take a bite you see his hand lift up to his helmet. You hear a hissing sound as he lifts it off his head.

You snap your head to look over at him and you’re absolutely stunned, almost breathless as his profile comes into view. The strong outline of his nose and plush pink lips immediately catch your attention. You don’t think you’ve ever laid your eyes on someone as beautiful as him. Still taking in his features, your mouth slightly opens in awe. His large brown eyes, the crease between his brows, the way his curls fall perfectly over his forehead even after having a helmet on.

He turns his head towards you, almost like he could feel your gaze. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you quickly turn back to look at your plate in embarrassment. You can still feel his gaze burning through you, your body starting to heat up. Through the corner of your eye you can see him staring now, you lift your head and turn to look at him again. This time he turns away, quickly glancing back at you for only a split second before focusing on his plate. It’s almost… shy. Cute, you think.

“I didn’t know Mandalorians could remove their helmets?” Your mother asks him.

Din clears his throat as he glances at your mother. “The rules aren’t… as strict as they once were.” He states.

His voice sounds even more heavenly without being filtered through the modulator. It makes your skin tingle.

The rest of the dinner you don’t dare to look at him. Your mother dismisses everyone and people get up to gather and chat again. Everyone wants to speak to Din, he’s never not crowded by guests. He put his helmet back on at this point after dinner.

Jem pops up beside you. “Wow, I knew he’d be popular tonight, being the guest of honor and all but… he really can’t catch a break”

“Yeah.” you’re trying to seem nonchalant as you stare him down from across the room.

“Have you gotten a chance to speak with him?” She looks over at you.

“No!” Your head snaps towards her and Jem’s brow raises at your tone. “I mean, no. He’s been occupied basically all night.” You’re looking back towards where he stands.

“What’s there for me to say anyway?” You glance over at her “Am I supposed to thank him? However much my mother’s paying him won’t be worth anything if he doesn’t make it out.” You look back out into the crowd of people and you’re unable to spot him.

“Yeah, I guess.” She pauses for a moment. “Well I need to go find your mother, I told her I’d help her with something. See you later?”

You nod and watch her disappear into the pool of people laughing and talking loudly.

You hear someone say your name in a deep voice from behind you.

“Princess.”

thank you for reading lmk what you think & my asks are open to chat :) xo

np tagging some moots: @ilovepedro @isitmeulookin4 @joelsversion @nostalxgic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @jenispunk @beskarandblasters @javiscigarette @gracieheartspedro @cannolighost @eliza-8 @hearteyesforjoel @tieronecrush @daydreamingmiller @pamasaur

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x fem!reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x princess!reader #din darjin #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfiction

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candyfloss5000 · 5 months

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oh my god

I just finished the book "Leia princess of Alderaan" by claudia gray and oh my fucking god I'm distraught like I'm actually speechless I wanna lay on the floor in fetal position and cry oh my god.

#Princess leia of alderaan #Leia organa #Claudia gray #Star wars #Star wars book #Star wars x reader #Leia Organa x reader #Anakin Skywalker x reader #Din djarin x reader #Obi wan Kenobi x reader #Mon Mothma #Bail organs #Amilyn holdo

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mgparker · 5 months

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the bodyguard- din djarin

din djarin x f!royal!reader

summary: the princess makes it her mission to know what’s really behind that rigid suit of beskar.

warnings: fluff, mando/princess bonding, nothing crazy happens tbh, hopefully not too ooc, unedited as fuck

<<last chapter! | masterlist!

ੈ✩‧₊˚. iii. a suspect *.ੈ✩‧₊˚.

You step out of your meeting with a relieved sigh, resting your forehead against your palm, leaning back against the double doors of the great hall.

Inside, you could hear the Council quietly disputing their next topic of concern, some trade with a far-off planet.

Between your fingers, you see the Mandalorian standing a small distance away. Straight with a hand on his belt, dutifully aware.

“You didn’t tell Phex about the other night, thank you,” you tell him gratefully.

The Mandalorian nods as always.

You take the lead, breezing past him and heading through the passageway. It held large open windows, from which you could see the village and your people.

A child suddenly stops with a bucket of water, staring right at you with wide eyes and you give him a graceful smile.

Then you make a show of waving in a very childish manner.

It was unladylike of you, but it made the child wave back with triple the enthusiasm. A wide toothy smile on his young face.

He tugs on the dress of who you assume belongs to his guardian. The woman looks down before following his little pointer finger to you. Her eyes widen just as the little boy’s did and she instantly drops into a curtsy.

You nod your head softly, still smiling.

A hand on the base of your spine makes you jump and tear your eyes away from the village. You almost glance behind you but a voice speaks close to your ear.

You freeze.

“Your Highness, we should keep going.”

A flash of irritation makes you purse your lips. But you do as the Mandalorian says, the spot where his hand was touching you beginning to burn.

Your cheeks feel warm, not used to physical touch from anyone in this way.

Maker, you feel delusional.

“Why must you usher me away from my people?” You ask hotly, as soon as he shuts the door to your quarters.

“I—”

In a very uncharacteristic manner, the Mandalorian suddenly stumbles over his words. Seemingly looking for an excuse.

Eyebrows knitting together, you attempt to put two and two together.

“Do you… do you have a suspect? Is that why you don’t want me lingering around others?”

He’s silent.

“You believe it’s one of my people? But why—?”

“I have many names to cross before I can determine who wishes to inflict harm upon you. For now, we must take every precaution necessary,” his raspy voice modulator replies. His stance shifts, hip jutting out a bit. You follow the movement despite yourself.

To your surprise, your sharp tongue fails you.

Retreating into your private quarters, you half expect him to follow you but he stays put in the antechamber. In your position by the vanity, you can still see him clearly.

“You know, I don’t really know much about you,” you pick up a journal and pen. “We spend nearly every waking moment together and I don’t even know if you’re human.”

The Mandalorian makes a sound you can only perceive as a huff. “I can assure you we’re both made of the same flesh and bone.”

You can’t spot a single spot of revealed skin on his person. Every inch is covered by beskar or fabric.

You bite the inside of your cheek. “I’ve heard of few warriors on Mandalore that choose to conceal their faces to any other living being. Do you belong to this group?”

“You mean the Children of the Watch,” he rasps through his modulator. You make your way further into the antechamber, sitting upon the settee. The Mandalorian stands by the foyer.

“Mhm,” you confirm.

“I simply choose to wear my helmet because it makes my work a lot easier. It keeps my identity concealed.”

“Doesn’t it make you stand out more?”

“Does it?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you think this is a trick question to boost his ego.

“I’d say so. I can’t go anywhere without whispers following behind.”

“Maybe they’re about you.”

You shake your head. “Oh, I doubt it. I am to be their queen but I’ve only ever lived in the shadows since-since—”

There’s a heaviness in your gut as you think about your parents. You try your best not to, dismissing any reminder of them so that you can try to maintain a level head.

It upset you too much.

“You said it yourself,” injects the Mandalorian, sensing your struggle. “You’re to be queen soon. You were born to be their ruler. And you’re kind.” He says it as though it’s the most shocking thing above all. “Perhaps too kind.”

“Are you suggesting that a ruler should be cruel to their people?”

“No,” the Mandalorian rasps. “But it can make you more vulnerable. You see the good in people. It can blind you to the bad.”

You eye him for a few moments, wishing you could read any part of him. But it’s like trying to identify feelings in a brick wall.

You think over your response and begin slowly. “I’m aware many rulers across the Galaxy are tyrants. Leaders of their worlds, but terrorists to their people. Like ants under the shadow of a boot. But I refuse to be like that. And if it means there will be more attempts over my head, then I’m glad you’re here.” You sigh. “I won’t change. Not for anyone.”

The Mandalorian is silent for a minute.

“Then maybe you’re what this Republic needs.”

You stare at him, trying to see past that pitch black helmet. You wonder if he truly means what he said, wishing you were better at handling more serious topics like these.

“Don’t say that around Phex,” you joke as you fight off the warmth blossoming in your cheeks at his comment. “He’ll try to rope me into the Senate more than royal duties require.”

There’s a puff of air that catches onto the modulator of his helmet. Like a chuckle.

It makes you smile a bit.

“You’re still upset with the Senator.”

Your smile drops. You briefly wonder how he knew about your ire, before realizing he had heard your confession in the abandoned tower nights ago.

“No. No, I know why he did what he did.” A certain blacksmith had something to do with that. “But you must know I’m not trying to be difficult. I just—all this fuss, it’s rather complicated seeing as I haven’t been harmed... it is those around me that have met the fate Phex believes is intended for me. My last guard still lies in the infirmary and my handmaiden barely survived an attack outside these quarters mere months ago…”

He squares his shoulders. “I’m quite good at my job, Princess.”

“Yes, but don’t you see? I’m not worried about myself,” you urge desperately. The twinges of discomfort are impossible to hide, you want to outright say it but you find yourself too humiliated.

He reads between the lines. “Princess… it’s not your job to worry about me. I’m skilled in every form of hand-to-hand combat, I wield the strongest armor in all the galaxies. There’s few that have gained the upper hand against me. It hasn’t happened in years.”

Something builds in the room. It gets more serious than you would like. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Is that a hint of smugness I sense in you, Mandalorian?” You ask as cheekily as you can manage, trying to ease the tension before it gets more uncomfortable.

He stays silent, as if he hadn’t just said more words to you in the last few minutes than he had in the two weeks since he’d been assigned your protector.

You sigh, a small part of you wants to get him to talk again. “In years?” You try.

The Mandalorian bows his head. “Well, as children, you have to fall before you can learn to stand. In combat, the same applies.”

You fight a scoff. “You haven’t lost since you were a child?”

“In training,” he nods.

You knew of the rumors. The Mandalorian was a formidable force, undefeated in his fights. He had deep scarlet red in his ledger, gushing and flowing from his past. Something you’d only managed to learn about through hushed gossip in the village. Nights, before the threats began, when you would dress in a disguise, hidden beneath layers of cloaks, slowly gliding through the marketplace with sharp eyes and even sharper ears.

Even now, as a work-for-hire bodyguard, the Mandalorian managed to rack up quite a reputation. Hefty in price but matchless in his service.

There’s no one better in the field.

Apparently.

You suppose he’s already proven his skill in tracking, staying hidden in the shadows, keeping a watchful eye on you. But you’ve never seen him fight…

Hopefully, you’d never have to.

The soft glow of the sun catches your attention through your windows. They’re sealed shut again, the rope tied beneath your bed reluctantly discarded but you didn’t want the Mandalorian to watch you more than he did already.

You suddenly remember the journal and pen in your grasp and open the book gently.

Flipping to the next empty page, you scribble a few things you’d discussed with Senator Dameron this morning. It’s important for your future plans once you are crowned…

You don’t realize how long you’ve been writing until your hand begins to ache and your eyes have to squint from the lack of light to your parchment. As if he’d been watching your every single minuscule movement, the Mandalorian suddenly crosses the room and lights a wall torch with a device you hadn’t noticed he had strapped to his arm.

The heat of the flames lick at your skin even from the distance between you… the dusk pulls a yawn from deep within your chest. The long meeting with the Council exhausted you.

You longingly eye your bed and then turn to face the Mandalorian again. He stands there like a statue.

“I think…” you’re hesitant to end this comfortable silence you’ve both fallen into so soon. “I think I’ll retire for the night. I’m exhausted.”

The Mandalorian simply nods.

You stand from the settee and glance around the antechamber. Everything was in place, just as you’ve always left it. Nothing out of the ordinary other than the disarray of pillows from where you’d been sitting for the better part of an hour.

Curiosity got the better of you. “Erm— where do you sleep?”

He’s silent.

You absolutely hate it and you knew you couldn’t go back to the stoic figure of beskar you’d been living with before.

You push again. “Do you sleep?”

“It’s my duty to ensure no harm comes to you, your Highness.”

The heavy weight of guilt settles deep within your gut. You frown at him, feeling quite bad about the fact that he was sacrificing his own well being just because you couldn’t be trusted.

Because of your rebellious nature.

In this entire day, you’ve learned a few things about the Mandalorian. Mostly, that he’s attentive. He thinks, despite the lack of sleep you’ve caused him, that you’re kind. He knows about your ire with the Senator despite the mask you’ve carefully constructed around others… and he was able to decipher the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

Despite the fact that technically he was forced to be with you, he still cares enough to get to know little bits of you.

And you feel a deep desire to know him.

“I won’t be sneaking out in the middle of the night, I can assure you. I won’t be making that silly mistake again,” you try to assuage any doubts he had. You want him to rest.

His stance shifts apprehensively.

You take a few steps closer to him, ignoring the childish temptation to hold out your pinky finger.

“I promise,” you tell him genuinely. “Which is a big deal. I don’t tend to make those.”

And slowly, he seems to relax just a bit, his shoulders falling slightly from where they’d been standing tall. His hand leaving its usual spot on his belt. A small puff of air escaping the modulator of his helmet.

“Feel free to make this room your own,” you motion toward the settee which could expand into a decent sized bed.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

You back up a few steps before spinning around and heading toward your bedroom, only stopping before the archway.

“I wish you a good night. Please do get some rest,” you say genuinely, loosening the ties that held your curtains apart. It separated your private chambers from the rest of your quarters.

“You too, Princess.” There’s a new warmth in his tone even the modulator couldn’t filter out.

Satisfaction blossoms in your chest.

A mischievous thought comes to mind, a perfect way to end your night.

“I don’t suppose you’d want to become a bit more acquainted now? Maybe take off your helmet?” You smirk, half joking.

You keep a cheeky smile on your face so he doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

Surprisingly… he gives you a warm chuckle, full bodied and his chest moves up and down.

You shake your head with a small laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks and ears. The small nerves that came with a new friendship rising in your tummy.

As you shut the curtains and climb into your bed giddily, you don’t fight the elated smile that’s been threatening to spread across your lips all evening.

And it’s only then that you realize how suggestive your comment might’ve sounded to the Mandalorian and you stare at the wall with wide embarrassed eyes. You try to dismiss the thought, hoping he didn’t think anything of it…

Just as you begin to doze off, the small click of beskar echoes from the antechamber, followed by a hiss and then an unfiltered sigh.

Your heart stops, clinging to the sound of your protector’s voice. Or rather the air leaving his lungs.

The raw sound of it sends a chill up your spine.

It replays in your head until you fall asleep.

don’t worry, pals. the next chapter is where the real drama starts. ;)

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#mgparker #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #star wars #din djarin imagine #pedro pascal x reader #the bodyguard #the bodyguard din djarin #star wars royal au #star wars au #din djarin x princess!reader #the mandalorian x princess!reader #the mandalorian au #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian series #the mandalorian/reader #the mandalorian x reader

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letmehavemyfictionalmen · 1 year

Text

Galactic Vows

Summary: Amidst worlds vastly divergent, two souls are joined by fate's decree, an arranged bond. Strangers at first, a flame flickers, then steadily grows, a bright ember born of the intricacies of their new life. Through turmoil and strife, they forge ahead, their love unfurling like a rare, exquisite flower blooming amidst the chaos of the battlefield. Side by side, they brave their trials, fighting for their beliefs and for each other, and in this struggle, they form an unbreakable bond.

pairing: Manda'lor!Din Djarin x afab!Princess!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Royalty Au, Unprotected sex, Violence, Death, Blood, Age-Gap, Fluff, Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, Powerful!reader, Dragons, Themes of war and political power, Trauma, Arranged marriage, Grogu being too cute you won't survive his cuteness, Emperor!Din.

Chapters

001. — Unveiling the Unforeseen — [Within the walls of Aurorium's regal abode, murmurs of an imminent betrothal flutter like delicate wings.] 002. — The Starlit Ballad of Hope and Hesitation — [His proposal, a plea for a powerful alliance between their worlds, has been delivered. The weight of his people's future now rests on the unknown verdict of a fate tied to the words he wrote.]

This is a Royalty AU of the Star Wars Universe. Although the story takes some inspiration from a few characters of Game of Thrones, it does not rely heavily on these elements.

The reader may come across as too powerful, they have been heavily inspired by Daenerys Targaryen.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

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obislittleone · 1 year

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What Once Was Mine

Chapter 11

Summary: Locked away in a house her entire life, she always dreamed of exploring the nearby kingdom for just a day, believing it could make the rest of her days in solitude bearable. What she was unaware of, was the real reason she’d been hidden away for so long. Changes comes swift like a flying dagger when a thieving bounty hunter seeks solace in the old home.

Din Djarin Royalty!AU / Tangled!AU

Pairing: Din Djarin x Princess Kryze!Reader

A/n: okay so there’s one more part after this one and then I’ll just probably start posting a series that’s like half finished but its in my drafts… and alsos the indy fic

Warnings: oh boy kinda a lot… mentions of death, having beatings take place, several scenes with blood… there’s a mention of beheading… sadness and depression idk. Uncomfortable situations fr… imprisonment and degradation again bc why not

Bo Katan sat on the stool across from you, watching with both anxiety and pride as you were being fitted with a traditional suit of Mandalorian beskar armor.

“You wear it well,” she commented, seeing the look on your face as you held the helmet in your hands. It matched the chest plate and the pauldrons in which were being placed upon each shoulder. They both carried the signet of the blue owl, and the etchings looked as though they had been carved ages ago. “I know you won’t disgrace it the way I have.”

You turned to her with sad eyes. She regrets the day she lost to Gideon, all but throwing the fight and losing everything she had in only a moment. She yielded, and that’s what everyone knew, but little did they know the cause as to why. She was a strong fighter, she would not have lost it had it not been for a certain someone.

“You did the best you could have done,” you assumed, trying to give an encouraging smile, though your nerves made the corner of your lip twitch in an awkward way.

“No, I didn’t. I gave in,” she paused, heaving a sigh and shaking off the wave of memories. “Gideon challenged me when I was only sixteen. I felt I was unready to be queen, so I faltered and let him win.”

“What?”

The surprise in your tone matched the wide eyed stare you wore on your face, the gears in your head working overtime to try and process why she might have done such a thing.

“There were things expected of me, and I wasn’t ready to commit to them… I once had a love like yours, but being queen meant I would be forced to give it up.” Her brows furrowed as she spoke of the past, an inkling in her mind wanted her to share it with you, but she was unsure if she was a good idea. You already had enough pressure on your shoulders.

“Bo,” you wanted her to feel your sympathy, to know that with your love’s life on the line, you could partially understand her feelings.

“After I lost the fight, that love was taken from me anyway. The King made fast enemies in the land, and drafted an entire army to rid him of all the people that stood in the way of his rule. The man I intended to marry was killed and I was powerless to stop it.”

“I’m sorry…” you trailed off, remaining silent for a few moments until you caught sight of yourself in the reflection of another chest plate hanging on the wall. You looked mighty and strong. “Gideon will be defeated, I promise. I will finish what you started.”

“I shall hope with everything in me that your strength will not falter in battle. I know you will do right by your hunter,” she nodded, taking the helmet from your hands and placing it atop your head. The metal felt warm around you, but the T shaped opening in the front gave you a sense of exact focus. As long as your eyes remained on Gideon, you would be set in your mission to kill him.

You’d never killed anyone before, and growing up you swore you never would, knowing the brutality of your powers was exactly why you were hidden away… you always said that violence was not your way, but this man had cheated you, lied to you and publicly humiliated you on more than one front. If all of that was not bad enough, the way he’d treated Din topped it all. The blood that had stained the edges of your beautiful green sleeves the night prior, it was thick and dark. Just like it had been when he crossed paths with death before. Your kidnapper who had tried to kill him was child’s play compared to the enemy you now faced. He held the power of the kingdom in his hands, and you needed to physically destroy him in order to stop him.

Din’s sentencing to death was paused temporarily, for the duel of rulers would take priority over the hanging of a single criminal. You only hoped he was alright, being stuck in a cage where he didn’t belong. He was like a bird with clipped wings, unable to fly or flourish or do anything in the confines of his small cell.

It was only a matter of time before you set him free, and that was what you kept your mind on as you prepared to meet your opponent.

You’d been given a sword and shield to battle with, though they were heavy and you didn’t really need them. You’d gone over the rules with Bo Katan several times, and every time there had not been a rule against using ones magical powers… none else ever living in Mandalore seemingly possessed them.

You’d been standing in a room, overhearing the crowd shouting in the arena outside. The horseback ride on the way to said location was short, barely outside of the castle walls, but it gave you too much time to think about how things might possibly go wrong. You were stronger than him by far, and your motivation to fight was growing even now, but a small yet powerful voice in your head told you it was going to end poorly. You could lose your footing or get distracted. If you let your guard down even once, it would be over.

The door opening stopped your intrusive thoughts from rampaging, but the face on the other side made your skin crawl.

“What are you doing here?”

King Gideon chuckled darkly before entering the room. He was alone, but that didn’t make him any less of a threat at the moment. You couldn’t touch a hair on his head before the canon sounded, but anything he said or did now could easily take your mindset and make it even worse.

“If you’d care to take a quick stroll, I think there’s something you should see,” he spoke heavy, a smirk rising to his cheeks. He held his hand out towards the doorway, and you knew that he wouldn’t leave until you followed along with his charade, so you passed him and walked through the door. You noticed that with all your armor and thick sole boots, you were almost as large in frame as he was. It made you feel stronger in some way.

“Make it quick,” you turned to him, not allowing a hint of emotion to show through your voice. You wouldn’t let him have anything on you, not one show of anger or even a clenched fist to show he’d caused it.

His steps were mockingly slow from there, but it didn’t take long before he reached a staircase. He gestured for you to go first, and you did, climbing up what you counted to be three flights before there was another door. You looked back to the King, and he nodded, so you entered. You appeared to be on the top level of the arena, overlooking the kingdom. Three stories up, and you wondered if he’d perhaps dragged you up here to push you off. He was still King, and if he had, he’d be the ruler nonetheless, even if it was a cowardly move, he could still do it.

“If you’d care to sight see with me, I believe you’ll find a particular scene down there to your interest.”

You shifted your eyes over the ledge, and froze to your place.

Your small green child was held in a cage meant for a bird, his coos and cries for help being ignored by the palace guards keeping watch. On the ground beside him was Din, curling in on himself as three men beat him to a pulp. They kicked and yelled at him, watching in fake pity as he tried his best to fight back. He was in no condition to fight in the first place, nor was he strong enough after not being fed for two days.

“Stop them,” you turned to Gideon, your fiery gaze burning through his exterior for a moment, as he almost looked afraid. You still carried the sword made of Mandalorian iron, an impenetrable metal that could cut him down where he stood. He took a step back and immediately felt the power shift. This could still work to his advantage. “Stop them, now!”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’ve given my last orders as King before the duel, and as per tradition, my rule will be ceased until it is over,” he raised his hands, as if this was not his plan all along, to lure you here and allow you to see with your own eyes the man you loved being beaten to death. “I do hope for your sake he lives until the battle, for then you have a chance to save him.”

You weren’t going to let this happen. Everything you did was to protect the ones you love, and now they were being held against their will, one of them being tortured on your behalf, simply because the King couldn’t touch you, yet.

At this very point you didn’t care about the rules, only that an end was put to this man. A man who so viscously would steal from you everything you had for the reason of revenge. You drew your sword from the sheath at your hip, swinging it over your head and straight at him. But this was what he wanted, and he’d been prepared. He ignited the Dark Saber and blocked your strike, counter attacking and hitting your vambrace, which burned like fire. You retreated for only a second before again throwing the blade towards his body, which was deflected for a second time by his glowing weapon. It turned the metal of the sword red with heat, and not even a moment later, the sword was hit away from your hands by another rough strike.

Gideon stared you down, the saber inches away from your neck. You could feel the warmth emanating from where it was held, and tried your best to stay still. Even a flinch could end your life.

“Save it for the arena,” he said smugly before disengaging his weapon and handing yours back to you. You took it quickly, and turned to leave. If there was still time, you could tell Bo about the guards behind the building. She was a skilled fighter, perhaps she could stop them from killing Din until the fight was over.

As soon as you reached the bottom of the stairs, you’d been pulled by the arm.

“Where were you? It’s less than two minutes until the canon is lit,” Mayfeld seemed stressed, like he’d been looking for you for ages. Truth be told, you weren’t supposed to leave the room they put you in until it was time, so already you’d gotten them on the tips of their toes.

“Mayfeld, you have to listen to me,” you tried to make him stop walking, to slow down at least so the words could come out while he was paying attention.

“It’ll have to wait until after the fight. You’re supposed to be out there already,” he kept on, practically dragging you with him until you reached a chain drawn entrance, the wooden slab being lowered to the ground.

“No, you don’t understand he’s-“

“You’re going to be fine, just remember what Bo said.”

And with that, you were shoved into the arena. You turned towards the center of it, hearing the people of the land cheering. You stood in fear of the events around you, seeing as though you had been thrust into the middle with no where to go. There was only one way out, and that was the death of Gideon, the faux King of Mandalore.

You looked to the other side of the arena, and sure enough… the second wooden slab was lowered until it hit the dirt, and behind it stood your opponent. His stance was wide, and it angered you to see how arrogantly he strolled in. His weapon was activated, and he dragged it next to him in the dirt, creating small fits of dust to fly in the air behind his steps.

He stopped about ten feet away from you, pointing to the top of the arena where you both were just standing only minutes ago. The canon had been raised, and the fuse had been lit, the flame getting closer and closer until the loud boom was heard, echoing through the sky.

You held your weapon steady, making sure your helmet was secure before charging him. You struck first, making contact with his saber, while he quickly rebuttals against you. You were fired up, and so was he. The crowd was only background noise as this feud ending battle commenced.

Bo had been made aware of the hunter’s disappearance from his cell. She snuck in that morning to try and get him into a safer location until after the fight, but found that he’d been removed, the cell at the end of the block being completely empty when she went in. She hadn’t however found him in time to prevent the horrendous beatings he’d received. At the sound of the canon, she left her place on the ground level of the arena, going outside to inspect the guards that had been rotating to a discreet location.

When she saw the hunter on the ground, covered in his own blood, she leapt into action immediately. She pulled the knives from her boots and threw them straight forward, killing out the only guards who had been armed. They dropped to the ground before her as the other three stopped their attack on Din to focus on her. She was a threat by all means, and they remember the fight she put up at her young age of sixteen. Now, it was likely she could kill a man with her bare hands.

“Who’s first?” She quipped, stepping in front of Din and tilting her head to the one in the center. He looked as if he was waiting to get a piece of her, and was all too confident he would be able to. “You.”

Just as anticipated, he ran towards her, arms flailing about and voice ringing out a battle cry. He was all bark, unfortunately, as she caught him before he made contact, gripping under his shoulder and twisting just right until his shoulder was out of socket. She grabbed his neck and bashed his head over her knee and he went down to the ground, writhing in pain and out of his clear consciousness as the next man charged after her. She kicked out in front of her this time, letting his weight carry him backwards, all she had to do then was land a hard sock on his jaw and he collapsed over top of the last one. The man left standing was not in any hurry to rush her, but he’d been waiting, watching strategically until the others were out of the way. He would wait for her to make the first move, he was the smart one.

She had come to the conclusion he would wait for her, so she turned to Din, seeing that he’d started to pick himself up, and gave him an order. “Take the child, and go.”

He was barely able to hold himself at a seating position, but he gave a nod, beginning to drag himself towards the bird cage sat in the corner atop a barrel.

Bo faced the man head on, taking one step, two, three, and then one more. She struck him hard in the shoulder, and he stumbled back, but didn’t fall. He came back at her with force, blocking her attempt at a kick and using her leg as momentum to send her into the wall. Her back hit the concrete hard, and she nearly lost the air from her lungs, but she wasn’t finished. He came closer, and she feigned lack of awareness long enough to get him right in front of her. From there she let the knee jerk upwards, kicking him between the legs and hearing him groan. He didn’t back off like she’d hoped, and grabbed her fists, holding her to the wall. He used his own knee as a way to mock her, jabbing into her stomach several times until she felt sick. She tried to bend over in hopes it would soothe the pain, but he grabbed her throat, pushing her against the wall once more and looking her straight in the eye.

“You’re weak now, just like you were then.”

And suddenly, the pressure on her throat was gone. The man in front of her stood still, his features becoming like ice, and then he fell to the ground. Bo took in a deep breath, leaning over like she’d intended to earlier. She saw the arrow that had pierced the back of the man before her, and looked up to see Mayfeld rushing to her aid while holding a cross bow. She had never been so grateful to see him.

“Are you alright?” He gave her a hand and helped her to stand straight, looking her over for any additional injuries.

“I’m fine,” she told him, squeezing his hand lightly to assure him what she said was true. “How’s the fight?”

“Bad… she’s losing.”

The last thing Mayfeld saw before coming to find Bo was you getting knocked down, unable to get up for the way Gideon stepped on your chest plate.

Bo looked to the end of the alley, seeing Din holding the child and barely beginning to hobble away. He used the wall to lean against, but she knew they could help him easier. She knew what they needed to do in order for the fight to be turned around.

“She needs to see him,” she muttered, taking steps towards the man as he barely turned the corner. “Hunter..”

He turned as quickly as he could, careful not to drop the kid in the process of doing so.

“Come with me,” she took the child from his hands, handing him off to Mayfeld who followed her over. “Can you walk?”

He tried to push himself away from the wall and take a step, but he nearly fell to his knees. His grunts of pain when Bo caught him meant he was injured to the point of being bed ridden. She hauled him back up, tossing his arm over her shoulder, and began to strong arm him towards the gate of the arena. Hoping that if she could just get him into your view, it would change the ending of this battle.

He groaned with every step they took, but didn’t complain, and kept on towards the entrance, hearing the loud echoes of cheers whilst the competitors fought to the death. He looked down the tunnel, and saw something he hoped he’d never see.

You were on the ground, back against the dirt, while Gideon knelt over top of you. His saber was so close to your face, you felt as if you might catch on fire. Your sword was the only thing standing in the way of your fast approaching death, and you knew you had nothing left in you. You would die at the hands of an evil man, one who may have killed the ones you love, one who abuses his power, and the people he’s supposed to care for.

You looked into his eyes, your scared expression was evident, and he reveled in it. To see the fear in your eyes before he killed you, it felt too good to be true. Everything he’d said and done before this fight was the reason it was going the way it had. You couldn’t focus your power enough to use it, and every time you tried, it only backfired on a worse attack towards you.

“You were my biggest foe, princess, a worthy opponent. I will remember you during the rest of my rule,” he leaned in closer, forcing his blade so close it singed the hair that had been sticking out of it’s binds. You’d lost your helmet about thirty seconds into the battle, and nothing was stopping him from running you through to the ground.

You closed your eyes, ready to except your fate…

“Mesh’la,” the whisper was not even heard aloud, but in your mind. Whatever power you still possessed in you was willing you to hear his words, spoken under his breath and practically into the void.

You opened your eyes, turning your head to catch the sight. The tunnel was opened, and hanging onto Bo Katan was your hunter, the one this was all about. He looked bruised and bloody, but he was here, and he was alive. Standing behind him was Mayfeld, who cautiously held onto your small green child, the one you’d been in companionship with for so long, now. They were both here, and you weren’t going to let them watch you get killed, not at the hands of this man.

Din wasn’t sure how, but he knew you had heard him.

You gathered all the strength in your body and pulled your legs in, kicking his body off of you and back several feet. He was quickly steadied again, as were you, but your stare was no longer afraid, it was determined. This was the gaze he’d been so frightened of before.

You lunged for him, swinging over your head and across your body, hitting his saber multiple times before he tripped and fell back on the ground. You used your power to pull the Dark Saber from his hands and into your own. He barely made it to his knees before you were stood over him, both blades crossed by his throat, waiting to behead him.

He looked up to you, speechless as to how you were able to accomplish this feat. He had always been arrogant, but pride comes before a fall, and his knees could attest to that.

“Last words?”

He swallowed in a shaky manner. Let it not be said that he would die with words unspoken… he’d rather not die at all.

“Allow me to make a deal on my surrender,” he pleaded, begging for the same chance he’d given Bo Katan all those years ago. He may have spared her life, but you weren’t thinking of being so kind in return. Of all the things he’d done, he deserved to die on this field.

You stood still for a moment, and pondered what your terms of a deal may be.

“I offer you two more days, of which you will be beaten until you cannot stand, and starved from any sustenance you may require… sundown on the second day you will be executed,” you stopped for a moment to see the look on his face become even more grim. The man was a shell of himself, and of that you were proud. “Death by hangman’s noose.”

It was comical, really. Two more days to live out the torture he’d put Din through, only to die anyways, in the same way he’d meant for Din to die. He was not going to be permitted to live, because even behind closed bars, he was dangerous… you also knew he would never accept the deal.

“If you will only mock me, do away with me, now.”

The famous last words of King Gideon the ruthless.

The blades crossed each other and slid with ease, ridding the world of the man who ruled this land with tyranny. You’d never killed anyone in your life, but this didn’t feel wrong, it felt empowering. You’d slain the enemy, just as the knights in your stories would slay dragons and viscous beasts that scoured the land.

You heard the crowd erupt once more, and a loud announcement, but you paid no mind to it. You began to run, your slight limp carrying you to the tunnel with which your hunter was waiting. He fell into your arms as Bo let go of his form, and though your strength was again wavering, you held him close as if he were the most important thing in the world. You were too worn to heal him for now, and you might be for a day or two, but you could spend that time taking care of him in other ways, simply being by his side and making sure he was there with you.

The light peering in through the window of the Queen’s suite was only bright enough to make a small beam that reflected onto the ground. It was early morning, but the sun rose earlier here than it did in other parts of the kingdom. The castle always saw the first light.

Din shifted uncomfortably in bed, his shoulders still being the sorest part of him. He was rather broad, like the west mountains that separated Mandalore from the hillside people of Nog. He was broad and strong, but he felt he was anything else at the moment. He tried to sit up, but a pain shot through him and he groaned.

That’s when he saw you, rushing to his aid from a lounge seat that you’d undoubtedly been sleeping on through the night. You gently grabbed his upper arm, trying to get him to lay back down.

“Easy, big guy,” you knew he was probably confused as to where he was, since he’d practically passed out on the horse ride back to the castle, and required major help in getting to your chambers. Everyone insisted he go back to his own, that others could care for him easily there, but you weren’t about to let him out of your sight as long as you could help it. You were a good care taker, yet only one could ever attest to that, and he didn’t talk. “You shouldn’t be up.”

“Did you sleep on the chair?” He responded almost immediately, though it was not what you were thinking he’d say. It was very much like him to be falling apart and in need of constant care, yet being too concerned for your own being to obey your directions. He sat straight up, looking to you for an answer.

“Yes, I wanted to be close to you.”

He furrowed his brow and reached out for you. It hurt the muscles in his body to do so, but he grabbed your hand anyways.

“Could have slept with me, Mesh’la,” he whispered just loud enough to hear, bringing your hand to his mouth for a kiss. You smiled at the gesture but shook your head.

“The physician told me you were not to be disturbed,” you sat down next to him, allowing yourself to disturb him only a little for the sake of your comfort, and the need to feel him beside you. “Everything that happened yesterday, and the day before… it’s almost impossible that you were able to make it out alive.”

“If your plan was to get rid of me, you’re going to have to try harder than that.”

Your soft chuckle was music to his ears, as he’d not heard it in days, and thinking about it was one of the only things keeping him on his feet whilst all he wanted to do was fall. You gripped his hand that was holding yours, squeezing it once before letting go and beginning to get up.

“You should eat something,” you turned to him while pulling on a dressing robe, much thicker than the one you were used to. It would keep you warm until the sun had fully risen, as parts of the castle were freezing in the early morning. “I’ll be back.”

“Stay with me,” he pleaded, just as you had done a few nights prior. That night had been so beautiful, it only made sense that Gideon would have ruined it… but now he was gone for good, and no one would ever be disgraced by him again. You looked back to Din and saw the fave h was giving you. “Please.”

You were a victim of those brown eyes, you swore they’d be the death of you… and what a wonderful way to go. There was no way you’d ever deny him, not when he sat there on your bed, looking like the human personification of softness. You shrugged off your robe, laying it back over the chair it had been in earlier, and crossed the room to where he was sat. You threw up the sheets and blankets and crawled in beside him, laying down on the pillow and looking up at him.

He ran his fingers over the side of your face, tracing the outline of your cheek and jaw, finally reaching down to your neck. There was a burn scar forming there, not even an inch wide but evident enough to him.

“Pretty girl,” he muttered, thinking out loud. The words hit your ears and made you smile, which in turn spread a grin across his own face. He hadn’t kissed you since your shared dance on the cobblestones of the castle garden, and he felt he needed to. Leaning down the way he did should have hurt him tremendously, but something about the way your lips met his made all the pain subside. It was quick and gentle, but it sustained him.

You wished for more, but weren’t about to push your bounds, knowing he was definitely still in pain that he would never admit to.

He laid beside you and opened his arms for you to scoot in. It was very improper, for him to hold you this way and under the blankets of your own bed, but it was only you and him, and the door blocking you both from the outside world was not to be crossed by any means. Bo was taking care of everything in the Kingdom for now, as you’d asked her to do so until Din was on his feet. You were the Queen, now… though there was no official coronation, you were acting ruler of Mandalore. It would be a large responsibility, but you felt you were up to the task. Din knew this as well, for he saw the kindness of your heart and the goodness of your mind. All those years of innocence really shaped your outlook on the world, and you still beheld it with beauty. He only hoped that all the horrible things you’d been through wouldn’t give you a bitterness that may oppose your gentle spirit.

The sun kept rising, and the day began… but you and your hunter were tucked away from the busying kingdom, finding rest and comfort in each other after a trial of great proportions.

Tags: @i-ameri-cant@littlemisspascal@fanfics-toread@icanbeyourjedi@castleallherown@mysticalgalaxysalad @princess-prettyy @67impalagirl13@agingerindenial@childrenofthewatch@insomniac-nerd-posts-things@marjoherbo@juletheghoul-main@tiredbuthappy@themand0lorian@janebby@goldielocks2004@yuiopiklmn @oh-no-who-am-i @appleejuice @luxmundee @belovedadam @seninjakitey @harriedandharassed @notsosecretspy

#din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x princess!reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin royalty!au #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #joel miller

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floral-force · 1 year

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Sleeping Bounty - Chapter 8

Helmets and Crowns

Din Djarin x f!reader

summary: The Sleeping Princess wakes up from Din's kiss, realizing he was the man from her dreams. Her royal return is expected now that the curse has been broken, and Din is there to comfort her for whatever may come.

words: 2.4k

warnings: none, but my blog is 18+ only. no minors.

read on ao3 | series masterlist

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You were pulled out of your dreams of green fire and swirling black skies to see a man staring down at you. You turned your head to the right, trying to get a better view of him. His golden skin had a few lines of age—or was it stress? —on it, but his smile gave him back his youth. You squinted, staring into his amber eyes, taking in the gentle, tousled curls of his brown hair and the stubble that painted his face, with a mustache and scruff to match. As your eyes traced every line on his face, drank in every detail, you noticed the silver armor on his shoulders and chest.

When he said your name, you felt your eyes widen and you grinned. The man gingerly placing a gloved hand on your left cheek was the one from your dreams, the one who had danced with you in the forest. You placed one of your hands over his, your nails gently scratching across the leather. Behind him, the sun was throwing its morning light, its blaze subdued by the pink curtains that hid the inside of the tower from the rest of the world.

“What’s your name?” you asked, your mouth dry.

“Din,” he stated. He lifted his hand off your cheek and ripped his glove off, dropping it to the ground and immediately placing his bare hand on your cheek. “Din Djarin.”

His palm was calloused and warm against your cold skin. You smiled and repeated his name a few times, watching how his eyes lit up with each syllable that passed across your lips and floated to his ears.

“It has a nice ring to it.”

He chuckled. “You think so?”

You nodded. “I do think so.” You placed your free hand on his cheek, watching how he shuddered into your touch, his eyes never leaving yours. “Kiss me, Din Djarin,” you whispered softly.

He bent down, nodding, a twinkle in his chestnut eyes. Right before his lips met yours, he whispered back, “As you wish, princess.”

The hand he had on your cheek traveled back to the base of your skull, tangling into your hair. His mustache and stubble scratched your skin, but you didn’t mind—not one bit. You let your hand explore his hair, too, and you felt him groan against your mouth, opening yours up a bit to match his. Your first kiss shot electricity through your veins, the whole galaxy flashing under your eyelids, warmth growing in your chest.

He pulled away, and you opened your eyes, smiling up at him. Your head was dizzy and light with a new feeling you couldn’t quite identify. It sat deep in your chest and made your heart race, and the longer you stared at him, the harder you fell into that warm abyss. He gave you one last kiss before standing up with a huff. You sat up and swung your legs over to the right, pushing yourself up to stand. When you took an uncertain step on wobbly legs and nearly tripped, Din caught you against his chest.

“Now I know it’s you,” you giggled.

“How do you know?” Din asked, gently pushing you to sit back on the bed.

“I remember how it felt when I was pressed against that metal armor in the forest.” You watched him put his discarded glove back on, sad that he had to hide his rough, warm skin from the world again.

“Is it a good feeling, or a bad one, mesh’la?”

You met his eyes again, shaking your head. “It feels safe.” As he bent over to pick up his helmet, you asked, “What does that word mean?” He quirked an eyebrow at you, and you continued, “May—May-shh—”

“—Mesh’la,” he interjected. “It means ‘beautiful’ in Mando’a, the language of the Mandalorians—my people.”

“I like the sound of that,” you purred, gazing up into his twinkling eyes.

“There’s more where that came from,” he chuckled. “But unfortunately, princess, I promised a fairy I’d return you to her.”

Before you could speak, a familiar voice filled the room, speaking your name.

“I waited a little bit after the cloud went away, Mando. But when I didn’t see you come back, I decided I’d come and check myself.”

At the sound of your aunt’s voice, you lit up, and Din stepped aside, hands flying to replace his helmet. Your aunt said your name and ran over to you from where she stood, wrapping you up in her warm embrace. One of her hands held the back of your head, and when she pulled back, you saw tears filling her eyes. She planted a kiss on your forehead and her eyes scanned your face as if she couldn’t believe you were here in front of her.

She turned around to look at Din, hidden under the beskar yet again.

“I never thought a Mandalorian would be the one to break the spell,” she said, an air of incredulity tinting her words.

Din simply shrugged in response.

Peli ran a thumb across your forehead, releasing a deep sigh of relief. “Well, I suppose we should go meet your parents. I don’t know how I’m gonna explain this—" she muttered, jerking her thumb at Din— “but I think they’ll just be happy their daughter is safe.”

“I hope they like me,” you mumbled, a bit of your anxiety slipping out.

“Oh, my sweet Rose, they’ll love you.” Peli hugged you, then took a step back, fixing your crown. She turned to face Din. “Now, Mando—”

“Din!” You blurted out. Your aunt tilted her head to the side, and Din’s helmet was quirked to the left. “His name is Din.”

“Got it. So, Din,” she enunciated. “Can I trust you to take her to the throne room so she can make her royal debut?”

You grinned up at him, and he nodded, first at you, then at Peli. “I’d be honored.”

“Kriff, I’d hope so! You’re the one who woke her up, after all.”

Peli gave Din instructions, and you tuned it out, rising to your feet once again. You felt stronger and more sure-footed, so you walked over to the curtains to the left where there was a small gap. You peeked out and saw the bright blue sky above you—still tinged with a little leftover pink from the dawn—and mountains in the distance. A few more nervous steps and you were peering over the railing, looking down at dense crowds and clusters of people, their excited and anxious conversations reaching your ears as muffled and garbled noises.

This was it—this was your kingdom. They were all waiting for you.

The realization fell down your throat and hit your gut, making your breaths quicken a bit. The anxiety of it all was finally starting to hit you, the weight of it slamming into your chest. You wanted to get this moment over with before you started to understand how you went from crying at a vanity to a small room at the top of a tower.

The sound of your name pulled you out of your head, and you turned around to see Peli walking toward you, waving her wand and changing her clothing from her typical trousers and blouse to a muted blue dress, her hair pulled back, a few loose curls framing her face. You chuckled when she made a face—you knew how much she despised dresses—and you met her halfway, bending down to give her a hug.

“Din is gonna take you to the throne room,” she said, taking your hand and leading you past the bed and back to Din. She placed your hand in his open palm with a gentle smile. She flew into the air, kissing your cheek and patting it, beaming at you with tears in her eyes. “They’re going to love you, my Rose.”

You watched her wave her wand and transform into a tiny ball of blue light and rush down into an opening in the floor, which you assumed to be stairs.

“Are you ready, mesh’la?”

Din’s voice grounded you again as anxiety bubbled up inside of you. You nodded, then tapped on his helmet.

“I have a question,” you asked, fiddling with his fingers. “Why did you put it back on when my aunt arrived?”

“My Creed says I can’t take off my helmet. Nobody can see my face.”

“So, why did you take it off for me?”

“The Creed also says you can take it off in front of the person you want to…marry,” When you raised your eyebrows, he quickly added, “I know that’s a lot to be thinking about right now, but—”

“You didn’t think your kiss would be the one, did you?”

His helmet turned to the side at your blunt query, and he gripped your hand. “I didn’t.”

“How does it feel to be wrong?”

He reached up with his free hand and took his helmet off. You smiled at his messy curls and watched as he gently tossed his helmet onto the bed.

“It feels pretty damn good, mesh’la.”

Din wrapped his arm around you and his lips met yours for one last kiss, your hands grabbing at the armor he wore. After he pulled away, he ran his thumb across your lips, giving you a soft smile before picking up his helmet and putting it back on. You wished it never had to end, that you could stay here with him forever. But, duty calls, and it had been waiting for you long enough.

“Peli told me about the short way, and the long way. Which would the princess prefer?” he asked.

Din saying your title felt comfortable and oddly exciting. Maybe you could get used to it if he was the only one saying it with his saccharine tongue and gentle lips. He plucked your crown off your head—“Can’t risk losing this, princess”—and attached it to his belt. Din swept you up into his arms, making you squeal and laugh loudly. You relaxed your head into his left shoulder, beaming up at him with doe eyes. His strength impressed you and made you fall even more for him. You held onto his neck, adjusting a bit in his arms.

You thought for a moment, then looked into his visor, knowing that his eyes were meeting yours underneath it. “Let’s take the short way.”

He nodded, then started walking over to the balcony. When you reached the railing, you looked up at him quizzically, and he tilted his helmet down to look at you. Din’s hold tightened, and you heard him clear his throat.

“Hold on.”

You did as told, staring up at his visor with a raised eyebrow, then felt him push off the ground and into the air. You screamed as you watched the top of the tower whizz past you and screamed even louder when you saw the tall tower falling past you. You looked down and saw the roof of the castle rushing towards you, and at the last second, you felt yourself rising again, the terracotta shingles getting further away. You squeezed your eyes shut, clutching Din’s neck as much as you could without hurting him or you. Air whipped past your cheeks and ruffled the skirt of your dress, and you knew that you were going to have to fix your hair.

Din’s voice called your name, and you hesitantly opened your eyes to see him staring down at you, his helmet glinting in the sun. Nothing behind him or in front of you was moving—thank the stars.

“Did you enjoy your first jetpack ride?”

“Absolutely not!” You threw him a look when you heard him laugh underneath the helmet. “I’m never doing that again!”

“I have a feeling that might change,” he said as he set you down on the brick floor, presenting you the crown after you finished fixing your hair.

You snatched it out of his hand, placing it on your head. He helped straighten it, and you pulled his glove back a bit so you could thank him with a kiss on the skin of his wrist.

Din chuckled and led you over to wooden double doors. He squeezed your hand. “Peli told me that behind these doors is a long staircase that leads down to the throne room.” You nodded. He grabbed the curved handle of one door and asked, “Are you ready?”

You shrugged, your heart racing and hands clammy. “As ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

He turned to you and pulled you close, murmuring your name. He placed his hands on your jaw, bending his head forward. You followed suit, feeling cold beskar touching your forehead.

“I’ll be there with you, princess. I promise.” His assertion was low and sweet, soaked in confidence. “This is The Way.”

You placed your hands on his wrists and squeezed your eyes shut, taking a deep breath. You pulled back and his hands trailed down your neck and arms, landing gently on your waist. His thumbs stroked up and down, the motion comforting you. Opening your eyes, you stared into his visor. When you nodded, he turned to face the doors again, holding out his bent arm for you to loop yours through. You smiled; Din was a chivalrous man through and through.

He slowly opened the door and led you through it, looking back at you as you reached the top of the stairs. You looked at Din when you heard the loud chatter bouncing up the curved stone walls, hitting your ears and making your stomach drop. He pinched your chin with his free hand, and something told you he was smiling underneath his helmet.

He whispered your name again, calling you back to him and away from your anxious thoughts.

“I’m right here, mesh’la,” he said, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “I’m here, baby.”

Din’s affection grounded you, pulling your attention to him and only him. The warmth in your chest returned; it was comforting and safe. You pinched the fabric of your dress to the side of you, lifting it so you wouldn’t trip as you walked.

“I’m ready, Din.”

You took a deep breath and he nodded, taking his first step at the same time as you.

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findmeinasunshower · 2 years

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 3: 𝑫𝒊𝒏 𝑫𝒋𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒏

word-count: 1.6k

summary: Din Djarin x senator!Reader. this is purely fluff.

warnings: small mentions of past injury.

Part 1 ~ Part 2

You’re pulled into consciousness the next morning by the feel of Din’s warm arms wrapped around you. His breath ghosts over your ear in soft puffs with his every breath and a feeling of safety washes over you at the sensation. You’ve never shared a bed with anyone before — it’s a testament to the love and trust you hold for Din that you don’t wake up in a panic.

As if sensing you awaken, Din’s arms tighten around you and he presses a kiss to the shell of your ear. “Good morning, senator.”

You smack his arm where it’s banded across your stomach. “Rude.”

“Mm, sorry.” Din presses closer until you can feel the unarmored breadth of him flatten against your back. He breathes in your ear: “Good morning, orar.” You shudder as he presses another kiss to your ear, then to your jaw below it.

You curl your fingers around his forearm in an attempt to ground yourself, but can’t stop yourself from arching back into his touch. “How’s your neck?” you manage to gasp out.

“No pain,” he breathes between the kisses he lays down your neck. “Thank you.”

You flip over so you’re facing him, and are immediately filled with a bubbling glee to see Din’s face again. “Well, I am a pretty good nurse,” you tease and flick the edge of the bacta patch on his neck with your finger. Din smiles down at you, crooked yet sincere, and reaches out to interlace your fingers with his. You snuggle closer, lips turning up at the state of his hair, looking like a bird’s nest after a good night’s sleep.

After making sure Din wasn’t going to bleed out in the hull, you dragged yourself up to the cockpit and plotted the journey back to Coruscant. You then forced the Mandalorian into a well-deserved fifteen minutes in the refresher before the two of you collapsed into bed in the captain’s quarters.

Now, feeling much more alive than you did twelve hours ago, you reach out and begin to reorder his hair with his hands. Din sits still and allows you to separate the soft curls with your fingers before letting them fall back into place...and after everything you’ve been through with him, this moment, laying in bed with him while he watches you fix his bedhead, feels much more intimate than anything you’ve ever experienced before.

“I knew you were handsome,” you whisper. “But I didn’t realize just how much.” You watch with pleasure as Din’s cheeks flush at the comment. “A blushing Mandalorian?” you tease. “I’m pretty sure that’s against your Creed.”

“Not with my riduur, it isn’t,” Din rumbles, and your heart warms at the title. “Besides, it’s not something I usually have to worry about.”

“You’re not used to someone seeing you,” you say. “What other kind of faces do you make?”

Din raises his eyebrows he thinks, and you smile and file away the fact that he has smile lines away for later. “I...bite my lip a lot when I think.”

You laugh and cuddle closer to him, pressing your forehead against his. “Show me.” Din scowls even as he goes to comply, but you lean in and catch his lips with yours before he can close his mouth. You kiss him lazily and he responds in turn, no intention behind where you’re going beyond simply enjoying each other’s company. By the time Din pulls away to rest his chin on the top of your head, you’ve committed the feel and taste of him to memory.

He’s shaking slightly in your arms when you tug him closer, and you press a kiss to his collarbone in thanks for the vulnerability he’s shown you in the past twenty-four hours. For the gift he decided to bestow upon you.

You bury your nose into the front of his tunic and inhale deeply, relaxing at the familiar smell of your detergent and, most distinctly, of Din. Of musk and machine oil, and the taste of copper on your tongue that always coincides with safety.

And just like that, you drift back to sleep.

~*~

You take your time getting back to Coruscant — it’s a full three days before you drop out of hyperspace on approach of the planet’s atmosphere.

You look at Din the second the stars stop warping around you and ask: “How do I look?”

He takes a moment to finish toggling a few dials in preparation for landing before looking at you. Even through the helmet, you can feel the slow drag of his eyes from the top of your head to your toes and back again. He takes his time looking over the traditional robes of your planet, the hint of makeup to cover your split lip, and the carefully done updo you styled in the refresher this morning.

“Beautiful, as always,” is what he settles on before turning his visor back to the incoming planet. A part of you mourns the loss of his natural voice, but hearing a compliment come through Din’s familiar modulator still makes you shift delightedly. “I don’t know why you ask,” he continues.

The first thing you say when you see the planet’s surface approaching is: “Leia’s going to kill me.”

“Not if you show up with me. I’m very intimidating.”

He looks at you when you reach over to pat his beskar chest fondly. “Yes, you are. But you’re cute if you think Leia is intimidated by anything.”

Although you can’t see it, Din blinks once before sighing and turning back to the controls. “Point taken.”

You were right: The second the ship’s ramp is low enough for Senator Leia Organa to step up on, she’s stalking up to you with a look of righteous fury and barely-concealed fear on her face. Din steps aside so your friend can storm into your space, and you shoot him a look of betrayal. He shrugs. Leia grasps your shoulders and looks over you with shrewd brown eyes too quick to catch on the hastily-covered gash below your lip. Her eyes widen at the sight, and you stumble a little when she pulls you into a tight embrace.

You reach up and pat her immaculate braids reassuringly. “I’m okay.”

“Liar.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

“She is.”

You and Leia pull apart when Din chimes into the conversation, and he shifts his feet under both of your stares. “Senator (l/n) was very brave and managed to escape her attackers multiple times before I got there. The split lip is from where she collided with my armor when I stopped too quickly.”

Leia straightens her spine and nods. “And you, Mandalorian? Are you alright?”

Din dips his head in a nod. “Nothing I can’t survive in order to keep the Senator safe.”

You fight the blush that wants to come up at the double meaning in his words but manage to school your face back into neutrality when Leia looks back at you. “Thank you very much, Mandalorian. You’ve lived up to my brother’s words well.” Din nods once again. Leia looks back at you and takes your hand. “Now, it’s about time you—”

“—If you don’t mind, Senator Organa, I’d like a moment with Senator (l/n),” Din interrupts, nodding his head toward you.

Leia blinks. “Of course.” She shoots you a suspicious look before letting go of your hands. “I’ll meet you at the speeders, okay?” You nod and squeeze her fingers once more before watching her glide back down the ramp, much more graceful now than she was on her approach.

Din turns away the second Leia’s feet touch the landing pad, and you’re quick to follow after him. He’s silent as he leads you out of the hull and past the cockpit before turning the corner into the captain’s quarters.

You frown and follow him into the small room. “What—” You’re cut off when Din suddenly yanks off his helmet and pulls you in for a deep, deep kiss. He traps you back against the refresher door and kisses the air out of your lungs until your legs are so weak the only reason you’re still standing is because of your tight grip around his neck. Your Mandalorian has definitely learned a lot in the last few days, and you hum in satisfaction when you realize he’s making sure that you won’t forget the feel of him. The taste of him.

All you can do is hold on.

After not long enough, but too long not to be suspicious, Din pulls away. You cling to his broad shoulders as you catch your breath, reveling in the feel of the warm air between your two faces. Din licks his lips and gives you one last heated look before extracting himself from your arms and putting his helmet back on.

You find yourself trying to remember how to breathe.

You just manage to find your feet again when Din presses a small cloth bag into your hand, and you realize it’s the dirty clothes you’d been kidnapped in—his excuse for wanting a word with you. He dips his helmet to rest against your forehead once more before promising: “I’ll see you tonight for evening check.”

You nod, and you swear you can feel electricity spark from where his cool helmet touched your skin. “See you tonight,” you repeat.

You do not look back as he opens the door and walks with you off of the ship, handing the bag to one of your assistants before making sure you’re safe with Leia in the back of the covered speeder. Your friend gives him a knowing look just before the speeder pulls away, and Din finds himself swallowing down the intimidation.

That night, he doesn’t emerge from your quarters after evening check.

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galactic-star-bruiser · 1 year

Text

Protected pt. 2

continuation of Mando x princess!reader request!

find the first part: here

@angel-with-a-heart

enjoy!

Pt 2.

Another party and another dress that swept the floor with my every step.

“Do I look alright?” I asked without a thought of what it may seem like I was insinuating.

“...yes” the Mandalorian answered as she shifted in place, gloved hand resting innocently on his blaster.

I couldn’t help the blush that crept up my neck or the smile on my lips as I haphazardly pinned my hair in place.

He followed like a guard dog, patient and stern, scanning for threats.

“Why did you take this stupid job anyways” I asked earnestly, “you seem too important for this.”

“Business is business.” He answered, his hand now on the small of my back, guiding me forward into a large room decked out in gold, shimmering bunting and filled with the sound of clinking glasses and pouring sounds.

“Ah, there you are” my father called to me, arms outstretched in a way I could only imagine to be what he looked like going in for a hug. Not like I’d know.

Completely ignoring the armored help he had hired behind me, he put his hand on my back and the mandalorians’ hand fell to my dismay.

“This is my daughter, princess of our planet” He said as a sort of introduction to the young man and what seemed to be his own father in front of me. Their teeth shone like sharks; predators.

I almost caught myself wanting to look back at the stoic man behind me, but I resisted the urge.

I gave a small nod in the direction of the two strangers in front of me. My father only introduced me when he wanted something... how I hoped he wasn’t going to force me into something here.

“Cillian” The younger one reached a hand out to me, his father smiling even wider now.

I shook his hand politely and shot my father a confused look, but his eyes were trained on the other mans, eyes glinting as if they had a shared secret that I had no knowledge of.

“How about you two get to know each other a bit better... you, mandalorian, leave her be for a bit”

A look of pure shock and confusion flashed across my embarrassingly flushed face as I turned to see my bodyguard nodding his head and slinking off to some dark corner of the party.

Cillian motioned for me to walk ahead of him and he led us out into the night, garden scents and star light flooding my senses.

“Do you have ay idea why our parents wanted so badly for us to meet, princess?”

He walked with his hands behind his back, a crushed velvet midnight blue suit hugging his admittedly large and toned frame. His eyes were complimented by the color, a dark green, and dark brown hair that swept across his brow.

“No, I don’t” I admitted to the man.

He just chuckled without answering my question, his hands were now on my hips, turning me to face his chest.

He was handsome, beautiful in a way even... but something felt so predatory about him.

I put my hands against his chest, pushing away gently, trying to save face. I was a political and royal figure and any bad press right now would get me into even deeper trouble than I already usually was with my parents.

I laughed slightly, trying to diffuse whatever was happening, “Cillian, it was very nice to meet you... but I think I should probably get back to the party-“

“Youre not going anywhere princes” he flashed his shark tooth grin again and pulled me in once more, this time with fingers digging so hard into me that it was sure to leave bruises for me to find in the morning.

“Hey” I pushed against him harder now, looking for any way out of this without breaking something on him, “you’re making a mistake.”

“A mistake? With my future wife?” With these words his lips crashed against mine, messy and hungry.

wife? Future wife?

“I’d never marry you, asshole” I spat and slapped him clean across his face leaving a pink palm print.

A malicious chuckle ran through him, “try telling our parents that, princess”

His hands left my body in order to sooth the mark I had made against his skin and I took that as a chance to turn and run, even if I wanted more answers to whatever deluded story he was telling me.

As soon as I turned, I came only inches from a beskar chest plate and two strong hands held me from crashing.

Without a single word, the armored man cornered Cillian, “touch her again and you’ll deal with me, boy.” His modulated voice was dripping with pure power.

“What’s this? Your guard dog?” The smaller man remarked, looking past the mandalorian to make eye contact with me. That was a mistake.

His face was now in the grasp of the mandalorians large gloved hand, Cillians jaw was moved to stare into his visor.

“Want to see me bite?”

With that and one fell swoop, a fist connected with flesh. Dragged by the collar, Cillian was dropped at the foot of my father.

“Just doing my job, sir, keeping the princess safe” he answered, taking my fathers slack jaw and wide eyes as a question of ‘what the fuck?’

#din djarin #the mandalorian #mando #fluff #mandalorian fic #star wars #din djarin gif #din x reader #angst #mandalorian #din x princess!reader #princess!reader

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inthe-dark-tonight · 8 months

Text

And All the Stars Align

chapter two: mercurial high

din djarin x princess!reader series

summary: you spend your day showing the stoic mandalorian around, much to your dismay, while your mother is gone attending some business.

word count: 1.5k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no use of y/n, slow burn, slight enemies to lovers, some helmetless din, little bit of mutual pining, some banter, no physical descriptions of reader, no mentions of age gap so read however you’d like, not really that many warnings yet :)

notes: here’s chapter two!! :) this story is really slow (i love slow burn sorry) so i apologize but it will be worth it. as i said in the last chapter notes i was slightly inspired by padme and anakin’s relationship in episodes 2 & 3 so you may start to see some similarities to their story here and there. also any feed back, comments, & asks are appreciated, i will answer ALL of them i swear. okay that’s all xoxo

thank you again to my loves @shatteredbaby & @javiscigarette for beta reading this whole fic and helping me with ideas here and there <3 and i CANT forget my literal mother @pr0ximamidnight for listening to me ramble, share ideas and encouraging me to keep writing ilysm.

You’re quick to turn around after hearing your name. It’s him. The Mandalorian. He bows his head and you give him a once over before answering him.

“Hi.” Your voice comes out soft and quiet, slightly startled by his presence.

“I didn’t get the chance to formally introduce myself, I’m Din.” He holds out his gloved hand for you to shake.

As his hand wraps around yours, your eyes move from his lips, to the curve of his nose, back to his brown eyes. You can feel your cheeks starting to burn from just his gaze and the touch of his gloved hand.

“The Mandalorian….” You trail off nodding your head slowly.

“That’s me.” He says sarcastically as you pull your hand away from his.

“Well, thank you for being here,” You glance down at the floor, averting his gaze. “And agreeing to fight in this duel or whatever.”

“Hm.” He grunts. “I should get back.” He nods towards the crowd.

“Yeah.” Your heart flutters a bit as his eyes stay locked on yours. “You should.”

He looks at you in silence for a few moments longer, then walks back into the crowd, disappearing before your eyes.

That’s the last time you saw him that night before heading off to bed. The rest of the night was filled with senseless chatter that you barely picked up on as your eyes wandered around the room. Jem set him up in the room he’ll be staying in for the next week after the party, and of course it’s right next to yours. He’s all you can think about that night.

You lay awake thinking about the way everyone stopped and stared when he walked into the room, including yourself. The deep timbre of his voice when he called out your name, and the way your chest fluttered when you turned around to find him standing in front of you.

This could be bad.

The next morning you wake up later than usual, getting yourself together before heading to have a late breakfast.

When you get to the dining area, the Mandalorian is sitting at the table with his helmet off. The second you walk in his head snaps up to look at you and he freezes, eyes wide and a slightly shocked look on his face.

He clears his throat, “Good morning” his voice is deep and smooth. You find yourself frozen as well, staring back at his deep brown eyes.

“Hi” you finally break eye contact.

You slowly walk over to the table, pulling out your chair and quickly taking a seat. He clears his throat before speaking.

“Your mother she-“ he pauses when you look up at him. “She already left, said her and Jem had some business to attend to.”

You nod your head, taking in his features as you sit across the table from him. The two of you continue to sit in silence for a few minutes, exchanging shy glances now and then as you pile food onto your plate and start eating. A few moments later a guard comes in.

“Princess” you whip your head in his direction, thankful that the tension in the room has been somewhat broken. “Your mother sent me. She would like you to show our guest around the palace. She won’t be back until dinner. She’ll meet with you then.”

You’ve got to be kidding.

You nod your head “Thank you.” The guard bows his head then leaves the room.

You look back at Din to find a blank expression on his face. You give him a forced smile, hoping he can’t see through it. It’s going to be a long day.

You stand up from your chair abruptly “Meet me back here at two so I can show you around.”

You glance back at him one last time and he nods his head in your direction before you turn to walk towards the double doors that lead into the parlor. You want to get this over with as quickly as possible.

It’s ten of two when Din walks into the dining hall, you haven’t been waiting long but you’re ready to get this over with. He’s holding his helmet in his right arm when he walks through the doorway, he bows his head as he walks towards you.

“Princess.”

“Din,” he's less than a foot away from you now. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” You let out a huff, not giving him time to answer.

You quickly turn your back to him and walk through the doors into the parlor, towards the large floor to ceiling windows. Din is just catching up to you as you turn to face him.

“So, this is one of many parlors” you gesture towards the large room with chairs and end tables sprawled throughout. “Probably one we use the most.”

You continue to walk through the room, glancing towards the large windows as you walk. Then you walk through another set of large doors leading to a long hallway lined with windows. You can feel his presence trailing close behind you.

“This hallway leads back towards the grand hall, where we held the banquet last night” you state.

“I remember.” His voice comes out flat.

You turn around and give him a look that says you’re already annoyed. His lip quirks up at your reaction. You just turn forward and continue walking.

“On this side,” you gesture to the left “all these doors open into the grand hall.” You freeze and turn around to look at him, causing him to stop in his tracks. “But you already knew that.” You glance at him. And quickly spin back around.

“On the other side we have the main conference room” you continue walking down the corridor, it then curves to the left and there’s large windows that curve with the hallway and look out onto the city.

“More doors to the grand hall.” You gesture as you walk past.

You then come to the end of the hall and there’s an elevator. “We’re going up now” he grunts in response.

You get in the elevator and the whole thing is made of glass, it’s a long square tube that goes straight up. While you’re on the elevator you sneak a few peaks over at him, admiring his side profile. You pass a handful of floors going up.

“These are mainly rooms for our guards, housekeepers, any staff that stays with us. Some floors have small conference rooms and landing pads for visitors ships, which I’m sure you’ve seen.” You glance at him and he just stays quiet.

It’s silent the rest of the way. Once the elevator stops, you step out first and Din follows. You’re in a large outdoor space now, the ground is some sort of stone or cement. It’s almost like a courtyard, lined with lamp posts and shrubs here and there.

“This space isn’t used very often” you state as you walk out. “Mainly for training purposes”

“Training?” He lifts his brow.

“Yeah, for the guards. Now and then we’ll hold small gatherings here as well.” You walk to the ledge and sit, looking up to point to the next floor. “You’ll probably recognize that’s the floor our rooms are on.”

Din sits next to you and looks up, following your hand.

You point to the left “That’s my room there.” You can see large opened doors leading out to the balcony, covered by sheer curtains that ruffle in the wind. Then you point to the right side, the room next to yours with a similar balcony. “That’s your room” You glance over at him.

He nods. “I noticed this area when I stepped out on the balcony earlier, was wondering what it was for.”

“Well, now you know.” your mouth quirks up into a timid smile. You take a quick glance around before speaking again. “Let's keep going.”

You stand up to walk back towards the elevator, din getting up to follow. He walks behind you in silence.

After pressing the button for the elevator, you look up at the sky taking in the large white clouds scattered about. You can feel dons eyes on you and your cheeks start to burn up.

“There's just one more spot to show you.” Your eyes meet with his as the bell for the elevator goes off.

After stepping into the elevator it passes the floor your rooms are on and there’s a long stretch without any floors. The view of the city is amazing from how high

up you are now, you can see other skyscrapers clearly and transports zooming past in the distance. Finally the elevator stops on what looks like a circular platform with a railing, and there’s a large half dome over the elevator. When you step out, there’s a bit of a breeze from how high up you are.

“Nobody really comes up here except for me” you point up at the dome covering the elevator as you walk towards the railing. “That’s all the electrical for the building and what not.”

You lean on the railing looking down from the roof of the tall skyscraper, taking in the city from this angle. You look over at Din.

“I’ve been coming up here for years whenever I need a little alone time, nobody has caught onto it yet.” You clear your throat. “So, don’t tell my secret” you give him a skeptical look and smile.

“You have my word, princess.” He’s giving you a serious look, and you swear that his eyes flicker to your mouth for a moment. You start to squirm under his gaze.

“Well,” You look back out over the railing. “We should get back” you turn to walk towards the elevator again.

The ride back down is quieter than ever.

thank you for reading <3

tagging some moots: @ilovepedro @beskarandblasters @gracieheartspedro @daydreamingmiller @isitmeulookin4 @hearteyesforjoel @tieronecrush @demonjoel @eliza-8. @tizylish @orcasoul

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin #din djarin x princess!reader #din djarin fanfiction #mando x reader #the mandalorian #mando fic #mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfiction

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syndxlla · 2 years

Text

Final Part of the More To Love Series

Summary: Time is of the essence as you risk everything to save the man you love. But will it be enough?

Word Count: 5.2k, NO ‘Y/N’

Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood, graphic depictions of torture and beatings, stabbing, swearing, whipping, major character death

Authors note: Well it’s here. I started writing this fic almost two years ago, and while I don’t share much about my personal life on here, this fic has been in the background of some of the most major parts of my life. It is not over, there will be a sequel that I have already began writing. But, when I started writing More to Love, I began with the intention of having a sad ending.

Sorry for that.

Good luck LOL

(More notes at the end)

Part eighteen

Din faces Koska, tears rolling down her cheeks silently. Everyone in the servant’s courtyard between the stables and the kitchen watches in anxious anticipation, the thunder starting to roll in, making the sky ominous, and bleak. It’s increasingly dark for the afternoon, the storm clouds starting to release their sorrow upon the kingdom of Mandalore.

He’s pushed to the ground by the two largest knights he knows, and circling to the front of him walks the prince, dressed in his regal attire. The clothing you would only wear for a coronation, or a wedding.

Korkie crouches in front of Din, looking through the visor of his beskar helmet. The prince doesn’t say a word before he pulls the armor off of the Mandalorian’s head. Inch by inch his face is revealed to a courtyard of people, to his fellow servants and knights who know the severity of a knight having his helmet removed before others. It is the greatest dishonor to have it removed for you, and furthermore removed by nobility. The onlookers in the yard did not need to know what he did to know it was treason, and worth death.

The Mandalorian’s eyes have to adjust to the change of light when his beskar helmet is removed. He blinks his eyes a few times, looking up at the prince. His jaw is tense, and face full of rage and disgust. His arms are immobile, both of them being held tightly and roped together by men who were once his brothers in creed. He has no creed now. He is just a man again.

Korkie tosses the beskar aside with a sense of disrespect. He looks down at the face beneath him, which looks up with a scornful frown.

“Do you have any last words?” Korkie asks with his sly tone.

The man on his knees says nothing, and instead spits in the face of the prince. Korkie laughs as he flicks the spit off of his cheek. He is then quickly drawing back his hand, and smacking the Mandalorian across the cheek. It didn’t hurt physically, but he can think of very few things as symbolically humiliating as that action. Korkie snaps and two other knights come to the center of the courtyard, and they begin stripping the Mandalorian of his beskar armor. First his pauldrons, then his chest plate, thigh-plates, and wrist guards. When he attempts to fight back, one of them kicks him in the stomach, hard. He winces, but he isn’t giving up his fight yet.

He tries to pull himself up again, using all of his might, but Korkie is quickly on him, sending a sharp upper-cut to his jaw, which he feels pop out of adjustment after. He groans again. Korkie snaps again, and the Mandalorian feels humiliated that he won’t even be spoken to anymore.

Despite how he was being treated, he knew that he had to stay strong. He could not give these monsters the satisfaction they were looking for by breaking early. Stallions do not break unless absolutely forced to. He would kneel here for hours if he had to.

He should have seen this coming, the man who was a bounty hunter would have seen this from a mile away, but since then he’s grown soft, broken, and weak. The guards are now pulling off his layers, publicly shaming him in front of nearly every servant in the palace. He is left in just his trousers and thin, cotton undershirt. Even his boots are stripped off of him. He gets several good blows on him through this process, one from the Prince across the bridge of his nose that especially hurts, his nose begins bleeding, and after one more snap from the royal, he’s being dragged to the closest post, and swiftly tied to it with force.

This is when Korkie begins to have his way, he pulls his gloves tightly down his wrists, and then wastes no more time beating the shit out of the poor man. Coming from all directions, in all levels of severity. Servants who refused to watch slowly began trickling out of the courtyard, others in need of entertainment or were curious stayed to watch him be brutalized.

After his face is properly beat up, eyes bruised, lip split, nose probably broken and jaw feeling slack, Korkie starts down on his gut, kicking and punching his stomach with a strength no one expected the skinny prince to have. Any strength The Mandalorian had left was gone now, he felt truly helpless.

“For your crimes of treason.” He says as he catches his breath at one point, spitting on the man’s knee. “And for fucking my bride,” He punches the Mandalorian square in the right shoulder, “And for disrespecting the queen over and over again,” he gets a blow at the left shoulder now, “And for pissing me off.” He kicks him in the gut again, and a pathetic wheeze is heard.

“Sir, you asked for these?” He turns to see one of the knights holding a whip and the older holding the Dark Sword.

“Lovely.” Korkie gathers himself, pushing his hair back into place and correcting his posture. “Boys, have your fun.”

—

The world cries, fat raindrops running down the windows of Korkie’s room. Your head hurts from crying, and your stomach is sick. You don’t know how much time goes by, but you finally stop crying, sniffling your nose. How did you mess up so badly? You wish none of this ever happened, you wish you never came to Mandalore, you wish you never left home.

As soon as you think that, however, your heart bleeds and cries because then you would never know Din. Din, with his brown eyes and curly hair, his scarred arms that are strong but gentle, his honey-amber skin that is peppered with gentle freckles. His laugh that rings in your dreams, his voice that reminds you that it’s okay, and that he loves you. Is all of this worth it for him?

Of course it is. You love him, and he’s in danger. You start crying harder because you know it’s all your fault. You shouldn’t have left him earlier, you should have stayed with him, you should have left yesterday.

“Stop thinking about the ‘should haves’” You say with a shaky breath. You don’t even recognize your voice anymore because of how torn it is from begging and crying. You look around the room, first at the sole grandfather clock, it’s nearly four. You don’t have much time, Din has even less.

You have to save him.

If there’s anything you’ve learned about yourself since you got here, it’s that you are not a quitter, and when someone needs you, you’ll be there. You stand up, your legs still a little shaky, but you get there. You get to your feet, and you’re dizzy, and your head is pounding, but it’s worth it for Din. You take a shaky breath, and then look around the room. The windows are sealed shut, and after further examination, they are a couple stories up from the roof below it, so no luck there. You search through Korkie’s desk, nothing but worthless papers on here.

The fireplace, you walk to it after you notice the pokers. Ideas flood your brain. You pick one up, examining the heavy iron in your hand. The fire is blazing, and you stick the metal in it, holding it in place until it becomes red hot, you carefully pull it out of the flame, making sure to keep it away from your face. When you walk to the door, the knob appears to be made of brass, which as you recall from Din explaining Beskar to you, has a lower melting temperature than most metal. You shove the fire poker into the keyhole until the knob gets hot, too, you run over to the fireplace and grab another fire poker and after taking a deep breath, and drawing the iron up over your head, you swing it down onto the melting door knob. It pops right off, clanking onto the floor.

You holler in joy, feeling proud of yourself for thinking of that. You can now press the door open, but it appears to be barricaded by a decorative, but heavy table. One of the little ones in the hallways under the mirrors or oil paintings. You can see through the crack you’ve made with your strength, there appears to be one knight. It doesn’t seem like he’s noticed anything yet. You try to think of how to get this door open the rest of the way, there’s nothing in this room that’s going to help you, you’re just going to have to force it open. You grab the cold fire poker, and hold it in your hands as a final weapon.

After taking a few steps back, you breathe deep and pray to whoever is out there that this works. With a running start, you slam your shoulder into the door as hard as you can. This hurts far more than you were expecting, but the door does budge a little. It knocks the wind out of you, and you’re struggling to find your footwork again, but you’re proud of how much of a punch you were able to pack.

Unfortunately, the knight does now notice that somethings up, and he walks to the door. “Your Highness I must keep you here.” He says.

“Sir, please, I must get out.”

“I have been ordered to keep you here.” He nods.

You sigh, “I will assure you will face no consequences.” You can’t really promise that, but you have no other options.

“M’lady-“

“Sir Knight I simply must insist as…” You think of any and every lie you can, “You see.. my blood has let and I am in need of assistance.” You physically cringe after saying this, regretting it, but the reaction of the awkward male knight is enough for him to tentatively let the desk out of the door’s way enough for you to sidle through.

“You will come directly back?”

“Well of course.” You nod.

“Why do you need a fire poker?” He asks, you try to look less suspicious with it.

“Uhm… to brace myself on! Cramps and such!” You chuckle, that works like a charm against men every time. You hastily then proceed to use the fire poker like a cane as you start down the corridor, probably looking like a bloody idiot. It’ll do though, and when you’re out of sight of the random guard, you practically start sprinting. You don’t really have a plan after this point, but you’ve made it this far.

The halls are frantic, but for once you’re not afraid to walk through the twisted labyrinth of the Mandalorian Palace. Your feet are heavy, and you know you’re running out of time. You know that people are going to start noticing you in this white dress sooner than later, and so you pick up your feet, moving at a faster pace through the castle.

“Your highness?” A voice you remember asks. You stop and turn to see Soniee, your maid who has shown you more kindness than anyone here.

“Soniee, oh thank the stars.” You gasp, out of breath and running out of time.

“Princess what is wrong?” She asks, a genuinely worried look on her face.

“Where would they hold an execution?” You ask, your hands on either of her shoulders.

“What?” She’s clearly distracted by your wedding gown, perhaps not everyone has been told the news. You state your question again, more forceful this time to emphasize the importance of it. Soniee stutters, but gets it out, “The courtyard, down by the servant’s quarters, I suppose… that is if it’s for a royal or knight, a commoner would be in Keldabe-“

“Thank you!” You kiss her on the forehead before sprinting past her, your sore muscles finally loose enough that you aren’t slowed down by them. You’re lucky you took so many walks to get away from the drama of the court because you knew the quiet halls, the ones that only the staff uses, and the fastest way to the staff quarters.

Hell, you don’t even know if he’s going to be there, but that’s your best guess. You make it with your fire poker in your hand, fists clenched and heart pounding.

What freezes your blood, however, are the sounds of agony you can hear him in when you approach the courtyard. You try to stop yourself from running to him, but it’s futile because you’re eventually going full speed in a wedding dress into the pouring rain. You drop the fire poker, it’s of no use, now. You can’t make it all the way before you trip over the length of your dress, falling to your knees in a puddle. The gown is ruined now, you suppose you weren’t planning on using it anyways.

“Stop!” You cry out, not sure what to do from here. The rain droplets fall. Off of your eyelashes as you look up at Korkie. Your chest is heaving, throat dry from running, and eyes blurry from your tears. Your presence isn’t ignored, however, because the knights who were taking turns whipping Din stop to gesture to you for Korkie to turn around and see you.

He holds the black sword in his hands, and his face drops into a look of betrayal and fury as he gazes upon you. There were bags under his eyes, and you remember Din telling you that anger takes a toll on people.

“Well, well, well.” Korkie laughs, looking up at the rain, “I should have known you would make an entrance.” He begins pacing, “And what do you suppose to do from here on?” He asks.

Your eyes dart between him and Din, the poor knight whose face was covered in his own blood, a bruised eye beginning to swell shut. “Let him go, Korkie, please!” You have to fight the thunder to be heard. You begin to walk towards him and the two knights take caution, coming to attention and prepare to strike at any minute. Korkie holds up a hand to tell them to stand down. He wanted to hear what you had to say. “Take me, let him go. I’ll stay, forever. I’ll follow all your rules. I’ll bear you an heir, a boy, and you can pretend I don’t even exist. I’ll spend my days alone, I’ll do anything you ask me to as long as you let him go.” You’re finally in close quarters with him. “I’ll marry you today, and I will be the best Consort Mandalore has ever seen.” You whisper.

“No!” Din shouted before crying in pain from another crack on his back. You tried not to fall apart at the sight of him, but knew that for once you had to be the strong one.

“Where would he go?”

“Banish him. Just let him live, and let him have his son, safely. Please, I beg of you.” You explain, taking one of Korkie’s hands. You were willing to make this sacrifice if it meant Din would live. You genuinely believed this would work, you think you’ve finally grown enough to put others before yourself. But in case Korkie didn’t agree to it, you had a plan B.

“Please…” Din muttered, clearly in unspeakable pain, he was elbowed in the jaw for speaking up again, and you wanted to tear this place down for how he was being treated, you wanted to punish them the same way they were hurting him. You feel so powerless, lost without him two paces behind you.

Korkie is close to you, his breath erratic as well, drops of rain and sweat running down his temple. You look at his grey-blue eyes, the ones that were supposed to give you a life that was a fantasy, the eyes that were supposed to gaze upon you with adoration and pride.

You suppose you didn’t make his job any easier, you never really gave him a chance. But why did he deserve one in the first place? All Mandalore has ever done is desecrate and take, and they paint themselves as the victors every time.

Studying his strained face, you are filled with rage, with betrayal. How could he do such horrible things to you? How could he treat those you love with such disgust. You give a gentle squeeze to Korkie’s hand, before slowly leaning in to kiss him. He holds perfectly still as your lips press to his, you close your eyes, breathing him in and really kissing him this time. It’s angry, forceful, like you’re trying to take back from him what’s rightfully yours, what he so wrongfully robbed you from. Your free hand came up to cup his face, pulling him in. You tried to mimic what Din had taught you, but knew you were doing no service to your valiant teacher. This was always so much easier with Din, and suddenly you were very aware that no matter who you marry, or who you’re with, they will never be Din, and you will always wish they were.

Before Korkie could think, you’re letting go of his hand, and ripping the sword out from his other hand. He was shocked and distracted by the kiss, so you had no problem pulling the hilt away. The weight of the dark sword is heavy in your head, but perfectly balanced. Korkie tries to pull away from the kiss but you remembered how Din could keep your hand in control if you kept your hand on the back of his neck, so he can’t pull away far enough to do anything before you’re drawing the sword back and running it through his side, as hard as you can.

The feeling of stabbing someone is impossible to describe, perhaps it was the sharpness of the blade, or the force of the wielder, but human skin and muscle can be torn into itself much easier than it should be. What you were most surprised of, however, was how deep you were able to go, you could press most of your weight into him as he cried into your mouth. You clench your jaw, crying from exertion and bewilderment as you drive the sacred blade of Mandalorian Culture into the Heir of that culture itself.

Korkie stumbles back on the cobble ground, breaking his fall with his own arm, he cries in pain even more, probably having broken a bone. He’s bleeding a lot, and you secretly hope you didn’t hit any vital organs. His blouse is stained a deep-red, and his hand comes up to hold his side. The adrenaline in your body is intoxicating as you look down at the sword, dripping blood of its Prince. The sight of it nearly makes you weary. You aren’t really sure what you just did, or how you pulled it off, but you’re looking down at him in fear and shock, your stomach turning to bile as he writhes in pain. You see the other two knights coming at you at full speed, but before they reach you, a woman is standing between them and you.

Koska holds another sword in her hand, prepared for battle, the Knights come to a halt, confused, “You dare to challenge your rightful ruler!?” She shouts. “Then you will have to go through me.” She bites at them, and they prepare for battle, widening their stances.

“Koska!” You cry.

“Do not stop me, Your Majesty.” She says without looking at you, the grip on the hilt of her sword enough to make her knuckles white. You wondered if she was afraid, or if you were the only one terrified for your future right now.

“What?” You ask, shocked that she would risk her own life for you when you didn’t even know if she tolerated you. The air is cold as the rain comes down, and you look at the obsidian weight in your hand again. It’s heavy, much heavier than you would have imagined.

Koska finally turns her head over her shoulder to look at you, her hair disheveled and stuck to her forehead from the rain, “take the sword, it’s yours now!”

“What?” You cry again, “I thought it was Bo’s?”

“No! Korkie challenged her for it this morning and she yielded. It's a custom to yield to the rightful heir rather than fight your loved one to the death.”

“I don’t understand!” You weren’t sure you understood.

“You are the Rightful Ruler of Mandalore! Whoever wields that sword holds the full force of our kingdom, but I cannot guarantee they will accept you. Now go! Get away from your kingdom, as far as you can! You will be a Martyr until all of this blows over!” Koska tries to explain but they’re running out of time.

“Koska, I can’t! Not without Him!” You cry, placing a shaky hand on her shoulder.

“I will get these two as far away from you and Din as possible, take a horse, use the tunnels into Keldabe! You have to get to the Sundari Front, the military will hunt you as long as Bo decides they should and you two are in Danger!” Koska yells. “Run!” She nods before doing exactly as she said, sprinting away from you back towards the castle, the other two knights running towards her at full speed in a wild chase.

You can’t breathe, everything happened so fast, you feel dizzy. But your eyes fall on Din, bruised, broken and bleeding before you. He steadies you, his very presence beckons you, and you run to him, dropping to your knees in front of him, you drop the sword, it clanging to the ground.

Your small hands pick up his face, looking at him, his eyes hazy. “I’m here, I have you.” You whisper, trying to keep yourself calm but he’s covered in his own blood, and the blood coming out of his ear can’t mean anything good.

“You… you did it.” Din tries to say, “You came for me.” He coughs after trying to speak, your entire body pulses when you see the whip cracks on the skin of his back.

“Sh, sh, sh, save your strength, I got you.” You start untying the rope around his hands and legs, trying not to puncture any of his fresh wounds. It’s as if you can feel his pain, also. Blood gets on your dress, staining the white satin along with the mud. His muscles are exhausted, and you can’t help but blame yourself for all of this. You remember what Koska said, you really don’t have very much time.

“We have to go, can you stand up?” You ask but get no answer. “Hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, stay with me, okay? Stay awake.” You tell him as his one un-swollen eye started to blink open and closed. You wipe some fluid away from his eye that was threatening to get in, and you try to feel for his pulse on his neck. It’s dangerously slow, and you swear this is a dream. All of these are things he taught you how to do, there is no way you or him could have ever guessed it would come in handy so quickly. You try to put his arm under your shoulder and stand up to get him off the ground but his sheer mass collapses you both back into the stone. “You’re too heavy for me to lift you onto the horse, you big lug, I need you to get up.” You’re almost laughing now to keep yourself from crying but it’s no use.

The two of you are even closer to the ground now, he’s so exhausted that he can’t even stand. “Din, please don’t do this to me.” You sob. “Din?” He won’t respond to you. You drop your ear to his chest, he’s still breathing but it’s shallow, weak. You pull your veil out of your hair, using it to try and soak up the blood on Din’s face but it’s terrible material for soaking anything up. You decide to tie it around his bicep on his bad arm as a tourniquet. Leaning your face down close to his, you can still feel a bit of his breath against your face, you kiss his slack lips a few times, trying to catch your breath in between kisses and sobs. He kisses you back a few times, but it’s nothing like what you’re used to, and eventually he can’t even kiss you.

“Din, please, you have to stay strong, for me, and for Rue.” Mentioning his son with the wide-eyes and big ears only makes you cry more, but it awakes something in him because one of his hands reaches up to touch your face, and you smile wide, his eyes crack open slightly.

“I-I.” He tried but he must have taken a few blows to his neck because his throat is swollen and his vocal chords are failing. It doesn’t even sound like his voice anymore.

“What?” You ask, holding his hand against your face.

“Mesh’la.” He coughs, a little bit of blood sputtering out as he slips into his native tongue, he says your name, it’s strained and faint, but you hear it before he goes back into Mando’a “Kar’taylir.” He never really taught you how to speak any of their words, but you knew what that one meant.

“Din, Love, I will hold you in my heart, always, I will.” You cry as his hand goes limp against yours and he won’t respond anymore.

“Din!” You shout, but nothing, “Din please!” You cry, holding his face as he fades away. You pull his limp body onto you, his head resting in your lap, your hands running through his soaking wet hair as you cry. “Din don’t go, please, God, don’t go.” You say through sputtering tears. “Wake up.”

Time isn’t real when you experience loss like that, your entire body seems to float, each limb threatening to turn into marble stone, eternally immortalized in that moment of pain and grief.

Still, Din gives no answer, “Wake up!” You shout. “Don’t do this to me please, please Din I can’t-“ You can barely breathe through your tears, “I can’t do this without you. I can’t live without you.”

Meanwhile, a pool of crimson blood surrounds Korkie while he’s pulled onto a make-shift cot by a few servants and brought inside of the palace. A few others come out of the shadows, inching towards you and Din.

The clattering sound surrounding Beskar is deafening. You are beginning to slowly be surrounded by knights and guards, here to either coronate you or execute you, whichever it might be. You forgot how quickly gossip and news spreads through the palace, so it’s no surprise that two thirds of the staff all stare at you as you mourn the weak body before you. Your sobs rip through the courtyard as Din lies lifeless in your arms. You scream at the sky, how is this fair? You have no more fight left in you.

You don’t even care if they take you, they can kill you too, for all that you care. You have no reason for life without Din. You would renounce everything you had if it meant you didn’t have to live a life without the Mandalorian Knight by your side.

You’re muttering nonsense now, crying over his body so loud that you don’t hear someone come up from behind you. “Please, just leave him alone, don’t hurt him anymore.” You beg when you realize a figure is towering over you.

The hand of the person behind you reaches down to your shoulder, you look up, and can’t quite make out who it is through your own tears and heartache. They are radiant, and bright. They place a hand on the chest of Din, breathing their own life into him. You think it might be the Elven Queen, Ahsoka, or maybe the Maker themselves, but you aren’t sure, the rain and fog mixed with your delirium makes you unsure of what you’re witnessing.

“Do you love him?” The figure reiterates their question. There is no tone to their voice, it rings in your head, maybe they didn’t say it out loud, maybe you were already dead.

You have to take a deep breath, desperately attempting to refill your lungs before you can even try to conjure a cohesive sentence, “More than anything.”

You remember everything about him; the night he unlaced your corset for you, when he saved your life in the slums of Keldabe, you teaching him how to dance just for him to show up to the masquerade to surprise you, the beach, the theatre, the ball. When you would read to him stories at night and you were both too tired to do anything else. You think of his laugh, his smile, the way his eyes crinkle up at the sides when he’s happy. Or when he’s mad, and his jaw clenches and shoulders go stiff.

The twist of his curls, the contour of his skin. “I love him, please, save him, whatever it takes I’ll give you.” You sob, begging to a figure you weren’t even sure was actually there.

You can hear shouting, maybe crying in the distance, the clang of beskar swords clashing into each other, men calling out commands, you aren’t sure what’s really happening, but it isn’t enough to pull your focus away from the dying boy. The radiant figure leans down over Din, and you close your eyes, looking up to the sky as the fat droplets coat your skin.

Mandalore was one of the wealthiest Kingdoms in the Land. It had a dishonest Queen, and a dying Prince. It had a broken Bride, holding its rightful ruler in her arms. It had a woman with olive skin, on her knees, two knights disarming her with a fateful blow to her jaw. It has an ancient castle, with winding halls of ornate paintings and corridors leading to secrets. It has a civil war in its courtyard, Knights who have already vowed to protect the wielder of the dark sword by oath, against knights who would never dare to see a foreigner sit in their throne.

The last thing you remember before passing out was being placed onto a horse, Clove, the same horse that you took out all those weeks ago. Your wedding gown is ripped and torn. On clove with you, was the Knight who was taller than you, who had broad shoulders and a steadfast look about him, the two of you riding into the tunnels of Mandalore.

Your knuckles go white as you grasp onto his shirt, not sure if you were dreaming or not. Is this life after death?

Or is it a rebirth?

—

The End.

—

Author’s note: I’m sorry for putting you through that. I promise though it will all resolve! In the sequel (drumroll please) Arsonist’s Lullaby

I’m a dirty sucker for holier songs as titles what can I say. ANYWAYS,,,

Here’s the first little bit of the Sequel! (As a treat)

—

Prince Korkie stares out of a foggy window, rain drops trickling down the glass. His face is in a permanent scowl, his body aching still from his recovery that he all but rushed. The sun hasn’t shone on the Mandalorian Kingdom in several weeks, the sky constantly overcast with a heavy fall of water that flooded the streets of Keldabe and is ruining the crop in the farms. Korkie’s jaw tenses, trying to breathe but constantly finds it futile because he hasn’t been able to fully expand his lungs ever since he suffered the piercing wound of a sacred sword.

“What do you want me to do?” The voice of the prime minister asked. His tone is tentative, nervous because anyone who has spoken with the boy in the last few weeks has faced the abuse of his words.

Korkie tenses his entire body, “I want…” The anger and seething evil cutting through his words, “I want every able bodied man under the oath of Mandalore to find them, and return them to me… dead.”

Vizsla swallows, “You wish us to end the occupation on the Sundari front?”

“Did I stutter, Prime Minister?” Korkie asks, turning around to face the man who questioned his word. “I do not care who must die in the process, bring them to me.”

—

K that’s all <3 thank you for everything. Kado out

—

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mgparker · 5 months

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the bodyguard- din djarin

DIN DJARIN X F!ROYAL!READER [SERIES]

summary: tensions rise as the princess of the dystopian planet eiria finally approaches the age in which she will take the throne. despite her reluctance, she finds herself under the protection of the infamous mandalorian.

warnings: female reader, given surname, implied hair length (medium to long), little mandalorian content but that’ll change in the next chapter, world building, time jumps, elusiveness (for plot development), unedited so beware

series masterlist!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚. i. a stranger in my room *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

Long before the fall of the Jedi Order, there'd been peace. Harmony amongst those who made their way in the galaxy. Tranquility and above all, happiness.

Even in these times, Eiria was such place that many people could only dream of. A planet so ethereal and utopian it was a wonder that it truly existed.

Luscious greenery covered its surface, slipping through the cracks and edges of its magnificent buildings, built on a foundation of gold. Technologically advanced in its own right, humble and simple where it mattered.

Technology was only used to ensure the safety of its citizens, otherwise Eiria was a world untouched by the horrors of the galaxy. Kept safe by its council of leaders that had been appointed and passed down along the generations.

It hadn't always been led by this council. No, Eiria was a royal world. Since its first taste of civilization, the hand of a ruler had governed the lands...

But when the former king and queen fell ill to a sickness that had wiped out over a quarter of Eiria's population over ten years ago, the leadership of the planet had fallen onto the shoulders of a council that had existed long before their reign.

All left from their rule, besides the sparkling scenery and magnificent buildings they'd had built overtime, was their daughter.

She'd been spared from the wicked disease that had claimed the lives of her parents, taken under the wing of her father's closest friend and advisor, Senator Phex Dameron.

The Princess was as stubborn as she was loyal, dedicated to her people until her last breath, a weight on her shoulders since the moment she was born. Thrust upon her the crushing responsibility of royalty, only to be spared her teenage years and emerging adulthood.

Every day, she thanked the maker that her parents had decreed she wouldn't take the throne until she had reached twenty one cycles — even if it was solely to secure that the throne would remain in their families for cycles to come. You see, a leader could be challenged if they were deemed too young to take the throne. To avoid that from happening, the King and Queen had signed into law that should need arise, the Council would take over all governing responsibilities and otherwise until the Princess was of suitable age.

At just twenty cycles old, the last Altair was on the dawn of a new age...

But along with it, came the danger.

The Princess of Eiria stares ahead, cold and calculating, teeth gritted together, seething beneath the carefully constructed surface, and swears that one day she will never have to answer to anyone again.

Before you, a panel of men, women and creatures alike, watching you with those greedy, overbearing eyes. It's not you that wears a mask, it's them. With their false pretenses, the caring acts behind worried gazes.

They don't care about you. They care about the wealth. The riches. Getting in the good graces of the Senator.

You expect he'll be elected any day now. It's only a matter of time and until then, and even after, the Council will put on those infuriating masks.

The Senator stares at you without the mask. In fact, there's no expression on his face at all. Except for the hint of pity you sense from his body language. You've known him too long to not see it right away.

A twinge of annoyance hits you. This is partly his fault-- what pity could he be feeling?

You should probably speak now. Not to the Council or to the Senator. But to him.

As angry as you were, he was only here to do his job. You'd do your best to keep him out of your path of fury.

You politely tell him your name, though it's not needed, and thank him for accepting the Senator's offer of serving as your protector.

After all, the Mandalorian will be following your every step from now on. It's best to be on civil terms for both your sanities.

You ignore everyone else in the Council Chamber.

The Mandalorian gives one curt nod.

Normally, you'd be irked by his silence but in this moment, you're grateful for it. You spin toward the door, guarded by two Jedi knights the Senator had sent for.

You bite the inside of your cheek and stride for the exit.

"Sunshine," it's the Senator. You stop. "It's for the best. You'll thank me in the future."

You don't turn around. Heavy footsteps follow behind you.

You doubt it.

It's been exactly three days since your world was further more flipped on its axis.

The remnants of grief over your recent loss had been overshadowed by the irritation you felt over the presence of the Mandalorian.

It isn't his fault. You constantly try to remind yourself, even as you furiously glare at the stupid tin helmet that rests over his head. He's just doing his job and you're not making it any easier.

It was on day three that you made this realization.

"I'm sorry if I've been... cold towards you. We’ve barely said a word since we’ve met.”

“Don’t apologize,” his raspy modulator replies stoicly. “Socializing isn’t exactly in the job description.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and glare at your own reflection in the vanity mirror you sit before. The reminder that your only regular company, other than the Senator, was here by obligation sours your attempt to befriend the Mandalorian.

“Right. Well, as much as I’ve enjoyed your silent shadow hovering over me for the past seventy-two hours, I highly doubt watching me every waking second is in your job description either.”

He stays silent, despite your bait.

You have no problem going on, combing your hair absentmindedly. “Perhaps you should be doing other things. Surely the rest of the castle requires some sort of surveillance. The Council would pay handsomely.”

“My job here is strictly to keep you under my protection, Princess.”

Your lip curls slightly. “Well, as you can see the windows are shut, my balcony bolted and the biggest threat to me at the moment is tangling my hair in this brush. So I would kindly request that your services extend to the exterior of my quarters please. I’d like some privacy please.”

You’re trying to be as polite as possible. You really are, but there’s only so much stoic silence from a metal man hovering in one of the corners of every room you enter that you could take.

All your life you’d been as independent as a member of the royal family could be. The Senator had made sure of that— and it was partly the reason you were still so angry with him over this arrangement. So going from that to this, it was not going well for you. Not at all. Especially since your new stalker didn’t seem to make any noises or speak any words beside ‘yes’, ‘no’, or some bullshit answer to any specific question you’d ask. But only if it was job-related, otherwise, he was an unmoving, nonverbal statue.

Three days with the Mandalorian and you were beginning to absolutely despise his beskar helmet and the nonexistent sense of security the Council had believed he’d bring.

This was all done for their benefit. Not yours.

You didn’t need protection before and you certainly don’t need it now. He served no purpose but to make you uncomfortable under his unbreaking gaze.

“I will be right outside the door, your Highness.”

Your eyes jolt up to him in pure surprise. You had been expecting the usual silence, for him to ignore your request as he did all the other times you’d told him you didn’t require his unwavering surveillance.

Maybe the fact that you’d pointed out every single enter and exit strategy finally convinced him, but you couldn’t know for sure. Not with that obscure helmet.

You dismiss your thoughts and almost catch yourself beaming at his reflection in the corner of your room. “Thanks,” you breathe, opting for a smaller smile, filled with gratitude.

He nods once and then leaves.

You release a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

The first thought that crosses your mind is one you dismiss just as quickly as it arose. The small traces of adolescence that cling on to you tempt you to sneak away from the Mandalorian. Break the rules. See how far you could run before he caught up to you.

But you dismiss it. Because you’re loyal to your people and you know why he’s here despite you not agreeing to all the dramatics.

The Senator claims this is all for your protection. That coming of age and taking the throne would likely bring danger as those who wished to rule the throne would start creeping out of the hiding places they’d taken residence in since the death of your parents.

But it itches beneath your skin the longer you gaze over at the crack under your bedroom door, the shadow of his feet unmoving and steady.

You could run. Make a little game out of it. See if he’s really as qualified as Senator Dameron says he is.

You sigh quietly and set the brush down very slowly. Your heart pounds in anticipation, a plan forming in your mind.

As quickly and stealthily as possible, you slip out of your casual gown into a pair of very unladylike trousers and a tunic that you laced up tightly.

You brainstorm different ways to make your exit. Maybe you could cough or somehow force a sneeze? Some way to let your Mandalorian know you were still unsuspiciously lounging in your quarters.

You decide against it, instead doing your best to unlock your windows without making so much as a creak. Surprisingly, it’s not all too difficult.

The window swings open, both panels nearly knocking into the stone exterior of the castle but you lunge forward to grab onto them. Your momentum drives you forward with more eagerness than you intended, your feet flying from the floor, tipping out into the evening dusk with the ghost of a scream on your lips.

Something pulls you back at the feet.

Your body remains suspended, hands clutching onto the panels white-knuckled. You quickly toss a glance behind you, fully expecting to see your bodyguard standing there with his stupid beskar staring disappointedly at you.

By the sheer grace of the Maker, there’s no one behind you at all.

The only thing that saved you from plummeting to your death was your pesky iron dresser, the one that had those decorative swirls that you often knocked your ankle against.

On it, the hem of your surprisingly sturdy trousers, which were beginning to rip at the seams the longer you stood there hanging like an idiot.

Quickly, you toss yourself back to safety, freeing your hem and sheathing your small dagger you kept under your pillow. When suddenly you hear a shuffle against the door and you freeze.

Your eyes are trained on the shadow under the crack of your door. It’s the Mandalorian, thankfully just readjusting his stance.

Deciding there’s no more time to lose, you drag a hidden rope you had tied to one of the posts under your bed from your younger adventures, and carefully climb out of your window. All the while hoping the Mandalorian wouldn’t decide to check in on you at that exact moment.

As soon as your feet touch the floor, you’re off, leaving the rope and your quarters in the dust.

An elated laugh escapes you. It feels like you’re floating over the stone pavement, more free than you’ve been since before you were orphaned.

It gives you a head rush, this thrill, knowing you’re breaking every rule in the book — for the Royal Princess of Eiria was not to wander the streets unattended, much less when the sun was falling below the horizon. Senator Dameron would probably burst a blood vessel if he saw you now.

After a few minutes of aimless sprinting, you begin to see the outline of the city, lit by its posts and the torches held by the knights on guard. You eye them, trying to figure out how to get past undetected.

Suddenly, you hear the sound of hoofs against the damp grass and the panic sends you flying into a nearby bush.

Your hair gets caught, a few thorns digging into your skin, one catching onto the skin of your cheek.

“Ugh,” you complain quietly.

Between the foliage, you begin to make out the figure upon the approaching horse.

“Gwaine!”

You smile in relief, your pounding heart beginning to settle back into your heaving chest. Gwaine is one of the few people you trust within the city walls, having known him since he was a boy. He is the blacksmith’s son, currently serving as his apprentice.

You spring out of the bush, startling Gwaine’s horse but he quickly reigned her back in.

“My lady,” he nods with an amused look.

You stand awkwardly for a moment, knowing you probably looked like a disaster.

Gwaine motions towards his own hair, near his ear. “You’ve got…”

“Oh!” You quickly snatch a leaf out of your locks. “Thanks.”

He eyes you, scanning your disheveled appearance from head to toe, before looking over at the patrolling guards and then back at you.

“Do you require some sort of… uh- assistance, my lady?” He asks as if he doesn’t want to know what you’re up to this time.

Poor Gwaine. One way or another you’d always managed to drag him into your various schemes over the years. But you’d never let him take the fall for any of your antics. Never.

Doesn’t stop him from fearing the day he’d once again see you with that same mischievous, faux innocence on your face. Which was more often than you cared to admit.

He knew your look of trouble like the back of his hand.

You jolt in realization and look past him, searching for any sign of the Mandalorian.

“You know,” you sigh a little dramatically once you realize the coast is pretty much clear. “I really shouldn’t drag you into affairs of the royal family. I’ll just leave you be—”

“What is it?” He cuts through the bullshit.

“Well, if you must know, I’ve taken the liberty of paroozing the sights of the city tonight, Gwaine.”

“We both know full well you have no liberty of ‘paroozing the city’ at this hour, your Highness.”

You try to hide your flinch.

“What’s with the formalities, Gwaine?” you divert. “Would it kill you to say my name for once?”

“Eh— might.”

You follow his line of sight to the guards that were stationed across the town square.

“You’re my friend. You can address me by my name, Gwaine.”

“You sure say my name a lot,” he says cheekily. Letting up his usual formalities. You feel relieved, giving him an easy smile. It was always like this with him— he’d address you by title, do everything by the book, and you’d have to slowly break him down until he accepts that you’re his friend. Not just the Princess. Years of conditioning made him that way you guess.

“It’s a mighty fine name,” you grin.

“Why thanks.”

His horse neighs suddenly. You both snap into reality.

“Seriously, Squeak. What’re you doing outside the castle? Aren’t you under strict vigilance right now?”

Squeak. It’s his nickname he’d given you ever since you had convinced him to help you climb to the roof of the stables when you were both small children. You were convinced you could fly (‘just like a bird!’ is what you’d told him) and jumped off to prove it. Needless to say, you were very thankful there had been a comfortable amount of hay on the ground below. Since that day, Gwaine began to call you ‘Squeak’ because you had screeched just like a bird when you landed face first in the hay.

“You heard?”

“The whole kingdom heard. A Mandalorian around these parts is rare. You mustn’t be alone when the Senator has gone to such extreme lengths to have you protected.”

Protected, your ass. Where was the Mandalorian now?

“I’m not alone,” you reply. “I’m with you.”

Gwaine purses his lips and gives you a half-hearted glare. Knowing in his heart, he couldn’t leave you alone now even if he wanted to. You’d just ensnared him in a royal duty whether you meant to or not.

“Nyla, settle down,” he murmured softly to his horse, as she began to get antsy from meandering around for too long. He looked back at you. “Well, are we going to stand here and wait to be caught?”

You give him a quizzical look.

“Well, you must’ve snuck out, haven’t you? I don’t see the Mandalorian around.”

But he’d surely be around if you kept standing here all evening.

You hustle over to Nyla, taking Gwaine’s outstretched hand and hauling yourself up behind him. Securing your arms around his middle, you smile softly at the familiarity.

“Where to, Princess?” He murmurs.

“Beyond the city walls, the abandoned watch tower.”

chapter 2 >>

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lahooozaherr · 6 months

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I Will Always Find You

Chapter 6

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Canon typical violence (but not descriptive), anxiety, reader is lifted once because of Rising Phoenix, angst, yearning, as always please feel welcome to let me know if I missed anything 🫶🏻

MY WORKS ARE 18+ AND NOT FOR MINORS. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.

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Chapter Summary: Din locates and rescues from your captors, just in time. With the two of you finally reunited, you quickly return to the Razorcrest where Din sets coordinates for the safe location provided by your father. You feel a wild mix of emotions over it all, from relief to fatigue. When it seems you’re about to tell him something very important, you make it to the planet of your childhood friend.

A/N: I’m back!! Kinda?? I’ve been here but I haven’t been in the headspace to write this. I’ve been processing a lot of grief. I know I shouldn’t apologize or beat myself up for taking so long so I just appreciate anyone who’s still interested in my little self indulgent story. There were times I tried to work on it but then I’d remember plot holes or things I haven’t quite figured out yet, so please bear with me. This chapter isn’t TOO exciting, mainly because this next one is going to be beefy, the one I’ve been really really working up to. I hope y’all enjoy it!

Song Inspo: Hero by Alan Walker & Sasha Alex Sloan

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Present Day

Some time had passed since you were blindfolded and binders were applied to your wrists. The anxiety made sleep elusive as you’d bounce between conscious and not.

Until the noises began.

You sat up abruptly, heart hammering in your chest as you listened to sounds of clashes, blaster fire and yelling from the men who had taken you. With no ability to act, or even see, you resort to bringing your legs up to your chest and balling yourself up in anticipation.

You wondered what could possibly be happening. Were you being saved? Was there a conflict amongst the men?

The commotion begins to die out, ending with the sound of one last shot from a blaster. You can now only hear the beat of your heart and your body begins to tremble. The environment grows eerily silent.

You gasp when you start to hear the door unlock and move open. Not knowing what to expect at this point had only added to the fear you felt flood through you. In a feeble attempt, you duck your head into your knees, holding yourself as close as you can with your bound arms.

You hear a voice speak your name, a voice you’ve become very familiar with. One that has haunted your memories.

The trembling in your body starts to cease as you raise your head to the voice, Din’s voice. Relief washes over you like a tidal wave.

The bed dips next to you as he removes the cloth from your eyes. You’re met with that same, emotionless visor you had come to yearn for. Words can’t describe the emotion beginning to seep out from you as tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Din?” You finally manage to respond in whisper, a tremble from your bottom lip.

He removes the binders, a tool he’s very familiar with in his profession. He finds himself mentally cursing them for having to remove them from someone like you.

Before he can set them down, you’ve catapulted yourself into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck. A sob escapes your chest in relief, a feeling you’ve been deprived of for too long.

It catches him in surprise but doesn’t take long for him to settle into it, embracing you in return. His large, gloved hands cover your back. Relief at finding you meets him as well.

“Are you hurt?” His baritone voice rings in your ear, your rapid heartbeat skips as the fear melts into joy. When you pull back from his embrace to face him, you shake your head ‘no’. “Good.”

As the tears start to bubble over, you give him a weak smile, “you found me.”

He doesn’t hesitate to take your face in his hands, looking you in the eyes, “I will always find you.”

You lean into one of his palms, his touch feels so warm and safe.

“We have to get out of here,” he leans back to assess you, still in the simple outfit of leggings and long sleeve top you were taken in. But no shoes. They must have gotten rid of them.

“Alright, I’m going to carry you,” you nod in response, he stands from the bed and leans over to slip his arms under your back and legs. When he lifts you, it feels almost effortless from him. He’s really as strong as he looks.

With your arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders, he quickly leaves the room and weaves through the halls of the building until he reaches an exit, bursting through to the outside by slamming his foot against the door.

He comes to a halt, adjusting his arm under you to reach his vambrace. You feel him press some of the controls on it.

“Alright, I need you to hold on tight, ok?”

You do as you’re told but raise an eyebrow at him, “alright bu-“

Before you can even finish your question, the Rising Phoenix on his back ignites and sends both of you into the sky. A yelp escapes you and you grip even tighter to him as you bury your face in the crook of his neck. You can feel his hands press into you where he’s holding you, giving you a reassuring squeeze that his grip is firm and safe on you.

When the direction feels more steady, you pry yourself from him to try and look down. Your curiosity gets the best of you although this height is….pretty scary. Underneath you is a forest, which is about as much as you can make out. You have no idea where they took you but you can see why, it seems lifeless and easy to hide out in.

Din comes to a landing in front of the Razer Crest, coming to a running stop. He shifts his hands under you to press onto his vambrace and the ramp starts to lower. When he brings you inside, he gently sets you down to sit next to some crates.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back. I’m going to get us out of here real quick.”

He leaves, climbing the ladder to the cockpit and disappears. Shortly after you feel the Razor Crest start up and lift. After some time and feeling the way he steers, you feel him kick it into hyperspace, and then silence.

You close your eyes, inhaling and exhaling a deep breath after feeling like you had been holding it in this entire time. You press your back into the wall behind you and try to finally relax. Footsteps come down the ladder and towards you, you open your eyes to find Din crouched down in front of you.

You let the silence linger between the two of you for a few minutes, taking the time to process the chaos that just happened in such a short amount of time. You realize Din has truly earned his reputation for a reason.

“Take your time,” he reassures you. “Your father sent coordinates to a safe place. It should only be 12 hours, give or take.”

Your eyes widen as you remember your father. He must have been worried sick.

“Where is he? My father?”

Din takes a long minute to respond, “I’m not sure. The call he sent to Karga’s location didn’t specify where, just that he would be going into hiding.”

The information bounces around your head for a minute before you give a silent nod in acknowledgment.

“Do you know where he could be?” Din asks.

“I don’t. I’m embarrassed to say, but we hadn’t discussed this beforehand. I’d hope it’s wherever he’s sending us.”

“I guess we’ll see,” Din stands and offers you a hand and lifts you up. “In the meantime, you should rest.”

He opens an enclosed space where his bunk is, which is really just a simple tarp material stretched across to make a cot. But that doesn’t entirely matter to you right now. You feel safe and finally able to breathe. You welcome the ability to lay somewhere that isn’t that horrible place you’d been kept in. You take note of the small hammock that hangs at the top of it.

You crawl inside and turn back to him as you settle in. Din reaches behind his neck and detaches his cape, and hands it to you.

“It’s not much, I’m sorry. I don’t….really ever think to have something like blankets around here.”

You cover yourself in the thick material, it’s warm and softer than it looks save for the burnt holes towards the bottom, “don’t be sorry, this is perfect.”

“Alright, I’ll be in the cockpit if you need me.”

He closes the bunk and you listen as you hear his boots step up the ladder and disappear once again.

You don’t really have time to miss him before fatigue really sets in as you lay down. You wrap his cape around you, cocooning yourself inside of it. The part that attaches to his neck smells like him and you can’t help but breathe it in. He smells like soap and blaster smoke, it’s oddly comforting.

—————————————————————————

You wake up suddenly, gasping for air and full of adrenaline. This isn’t your first time doing this, though. Ever since you’d been kidnapped, you had been suffering from nightmares. You don’t always remember what happens in them, but next thing you knew, you would be sitting upright from the bed trying to catch your breath.

You pull Din’s cape around your shoulders and grip tightly, holding yourself tightly in order to ground yourself. You remind yourself that you’re safe. You’re in Din’s….bunk. Bed?

After a moment of attempting to calm yourself, you’ve decided to give up on sleep for now. You find your way out of the enclosed bunk, making sure to secure his cape around you. The floor of the ship is cold on your feet. You take in your surroundings, observing the way he keeps his space. It seems it’s kept very neat and methodical, very him.

Ascending the ladder to the cockpit, the door slides open as you stand to enter. He’s in his seat, set in the middle. The only light comes from the streaks of stars and hyperspace across the overhead windows and it reflects off of his helmet.

He doesn’t immediately react to your presence in his space, you wonder if he’s asleep. You opt to sit in a passenger chair to the right of him, noticing his arms crossed and his body slightly leaned back.

“How did you sleep?” His low voice rings through the modulator, almost startling you. He swivels his captain’s chair to face you. You hold yourself tighter, keeping his cape stretched across.

“Uh, yeah, sorta. I woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep.”

You look up above to watch through the windows, “I kind of wish I had come up here. This is soothing.”

Din’s helmet tilts up to look as well, “it is. I almost prefer to sleep up here. Sometimes.”

Something in the air makes you feel like something isn’t being said. It’s hard to put your finger on it. You know there are many things you’d like to say to him, now that you feel more collected. But that same creeping fear from before seems to stop you. You don’t want to ruin this, or any moment with him.

“I need to ask you something, and it’s ok if you don’t want to answer right now. Or ever. I just-“ Din, of all people, is stumbling over his words. Something you’re not used to seeing him do at all. But the tension in the small space seems to thicken around the two of you. When he lowers his helm to face you, you aim to meet his eyes to give him a reassuring look to continue.

“Did they….do anything to you? Did they hurt you at all? Or…”

“Oh…Oh! No. Sort of?” Butterflies swirl in your stomach while you struggle to find words. “Not exactly, I think they were specifically told to not harm me. At least physically. That’s the impression I got.”

You hear the leather of Din’s glove start to rub against his arm rests, “physically?”

“Right. They didn’t hurt me like that. But I’d say it’s pretty psychologically harmful to lock someone up in a room for a week after kidnapping them.”

You hear the creak of his gloves and you watch as one of his hands fists into a ball while the other rubs against the side of the arm rest.

“I should have insisted on staying, to escort you back home,” he asserts in a low, bordering dangerous tone.

Without thought, you reach out a hand to close over his fisted one, “no, don’t do that to yourself.” His tight shoulders seem to visibly loosen up as you do so.

“Please don’t. I just-“ your voice starts to crack. Your eyes turn glassy and you turn your head, breaking the eye contact you felt you had with him.

Din takes no time reading your body language and he moves to kneel on one knee in front of you, resting both hands on your lap. Tears begin to form at the corners of your eyes and threaten to spill.

“What is it? Please tell me,” Din tries to console you, it’s almost jarring how quickly he can switch from being dangerous to soothing. His large hands engulf yours in both of his, feeling warm and secure.

You didn’t intend to go quiet, it’s just that your emotions threaten to allow everything within you to spill out. Something you’ve inadvertently trained yourself to be afraid of. Every time your mouth begins to mouth what you want to say, you feel your heart squeeze and single tears come forward.

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” you finally mustered to say. “I’m ashamed.”

“Ashamed?!”

“Yes. It’s ridiculous, I know. But before you’d found me, I had given up. I couldn’t fight. I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there,” you pause when you feel one of his hands cup your cheek and redirect your gaze to his, or at least his visor. Your heart jumps into your throat, “I thought I’d never see you again.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his thumb begins to stroke where it lays on your cheek. Before you can debate on what more to say, a beeping comes over the intercom of the ship.

The ship exits hyperspace and comes to a standstill. Din, with a gentle last caress of your face, quickly moves back to position in his seat. The beeping comeson again as he grabs a hold of the controls and a voice comes over the intercom.

“Razorcrest, you have permission to land.”

Confusion etches into your features as you watch him, his hand is paused above a button. One you think he was about to use to speak back. But now there was no need, whoever it is already knew who he was and definitely expecting him. He withdraws his hand and gets back to his steering controls, “buckle up.”

You do as you're told, fasten your seatbelt and sit back. You feel the ship begin to descend into a planet’s atmosphere. A familiar looking planet.

—————————————————————————

“Sir, she’s nowhere to be found.”

Large boots crunch through the broken glass and debris that’s scattered across the floor. Accompanied by the few bodies of henchmen. The boots belong to a tall, intimidating figure. A scarred and hardened looking Twi’lek, with a permanent scowl and scar across his mouth to match.

He turns to the man speaking to him, one of his many lackies, and growls, “what happened here?!”

“We have reason to believe the Mandalorian found her. All of this is his doing.”

The Twi’lek glowers at him before hitting his fist against the wall. He doesn’t speak, gritting his teeth as he contemplates his next words. His next move.

His demeanor slowly shifts to something more calm and collected as he seems to gather his thoughts. A twisted smirk revealing sharpened teeth emerges.

“We’re heading out. It’s time to send a message.”

@dindjarinsmut @impala1967666 @kittenlittle24 @angel-with-a-heart @leithatnight @i-usually-main-bards-tho @dins-riduur-anthe @fatima-marisa @lalalalemonade11 @n7cje @orcasoul

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#din djarin x fem!reader #mandalorian x fem!reader #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #bodyguard!din x princess!reader

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letmehavemyfictionalmen · 1 year

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Galactic Vows: chapter I

Summary: Within the walls of Aurorium's regal abode, murmurs of an imminent betrothal flutter like delicate wings. All eyes are on the princess, awaiting her response to the proposal, and the future of the kingdom hung in the balance. The weight of tradition, duty, and love rests heavily on her heart as she contemplates her answer, knowing that with one word, she will change the course of history.

pairing: Manda'lor!Din Djarin x afab!Princess!reader

The night sky is awash with a gentle radiance that filters through the trees, casting a serene glow upon the world of Asteralis. The moon, a divine lantern of the cosmos, illuminates the land with its soft light, transforming the darkness into a canvas of ethereal beauty.

The gentle beams filter through the leaves of the trees, painting intricate patterns of light and shadow upon the ground beneath them. It is a moment of pure tranquility, where the world seems to breathe in unison, and every creature seems to be in harmony with the peaceful night.

As the sun slowly descends beyond the horizon, the warm rays of its light embrace the land, a gentle kiss of warmth upon the cool marble tiles that lie beneath your bare feet.

The soft caress of a gentle, cool breeze envelops you, carrying with it the sweet aroma of blooming jasmine flowers. The fragrance fills the air, mingling with the subtle scent of the lush greenery of the royal gardens.

The petals of the flowers are as soft as velvet, each one a delicate work of art, and their fragrance is as intoxicating as the sweetest of loves. You inhale deeply, savoring the delicate fragrance that seems to embrace your senses, taking you on a journey of tranquility and calm.

Beneath your palms, the velvety touch of warmth embraces your lap, a comforting weight that brings solace. You sway gently on the swing, the rhythmic creak of the ropes harmonizing with the gentle rustle of the wind through the leaves. The enchanting moonlight illuminates Asteralis in a surreal glow, casting a magical spell over the kingdom. As you gaze at the mesmerizing sight, a wave of tranquility washes over you, lifting the weight of your princess duties off your shoulders.

"My jewel?"

The gentle whisper of your mother's voice calls to you, like a soft melody that slowly pulls you away from the tranquil cocoon of your thoughts. With a gentle turn of your head, you behold a regal figure standing in the doorway of your balcony. It is your mother, the Queen of Asteralis, and the very essence of her emanates an aura of authority and grace. Her attire is as majestic as the ruler that she is, every inch of her radiating the elegance and poise of a true queen.

Her eyes have an unspoken language of love, a depth of feeling that only a mother can possess, but also holds the weight of responsibility that matches her crown.

"What brings you here, mother?" You inquire your voice a gentle breeze that carries your words to her.

A playful glint sparks in her eyes as she makes her way towards you. "Must I have a reason to visit my beloved child?" she teases, her voice carrying the familiar lilt of affection that you have come to cherish.

The swing creaks gently as your mother settles down beside you, her elegant dress rustling softly against the fabric of the seat. You feel her gaze upon you, a weighty presence that studies your every feature with a deep knowing.

"Should I tell brother that you called me the favourite child?" You tease back, a mischievous smile gracing your lips.

The bond between you and your mother is one of love and laughter, a cherished connection that transcends the regal responsibilities that surround your life.

She chuckles softly, the sound carrying a hint of warmth. "Oh, he would be quite envious," she replies, her eyes glimmering with affection. "But my love for both of you is boundless and unwavering."

As the two of you sway on the swing, the gentle movement creating a soothing rhythm, you find comfort in this shared moment. The worries of the kingdom momentarily fade away, replaced by the simple joy of a mother and her child enjoying each other's company.

"So, my dear, have you heard the whispers in the halls?" she asks, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

Your curiosity piqued, you turn your attention fully to her, the warmth of her presence enveloping you. "Whispers?" you inquire, a note of intrigue in your voice.

Her eyes sparkle with a mix of excitement and tenderness. "There is talk of a proposal," she reveals, her words hanging in the air, filling the space between you.

You feel your heart skip a beat, a mixture of surprise and anticipation coursing through your veins. A proposal? The notion dances in your mind, weaving dreams of a future yet to be written. "Talks of a proposal?" Your voice trembles with uncertainty, the words lingering in the air as your mother's revelation takes root in your mind.

She nods gently, her eyes filled with a mother's wisdom and empathy. "Yes, my precious jewel," she begins, her voice carrying a soft cadence, "the Manda'lore himself has sent forth a proposal for the hand of the youngest Princess of Asteralis. It is a gesture that speaks volumes of his regard for our kingdom and his desire to forge a bond that unites our lands under a shared destiny."

You inhale deeply, the weight of the decision settling upon your shoulders. The moonlight casts a reflective glow upon the regal surroundings as if the very walls of the palace hold their breath in anticipation of your response.

"He is a leader of unwavering resolve," your mother continues, her voice carrying a mix of reverence and admiration. "His reign has brought stability to our people, and his unwavering dedication to the Mandalorian ways has earned him the respect of his warriors and the allegiance of neighboring lands."

Your heart skips a beat, a mixture of surprise and curiosity coursing through your veins. The Manda'lore? The legendary figure who commands the Mandalorian warriors with unwavering strength and honor. The very thought of a proposal from him fills your thoughts with a whirlwind of possibilities.

"He seeks a union that not only solidifies alliances but also lays the foundation for a future filled with unity and prosperity," she adds, her voice tinged with a mother's hope.

As she speaks, you find yourself caught between the weight of tradition and the whispers of your heart. The gentle breeze carries with it the fragrant scent of blooming flowers, their delicate petals mirroring the fragility of your thoughts.

"But, Mother, an arranged marriage? Is that what they're suggesting?" you inquire, searching her face for any hint of guidance.

Your mother's gaze softens, understanding the conflict that stirs within you. She reaches out to gently touch your hand, offering comfort and reassurance.

"Yes, my dear, it is an arranged union," she acknowledges, her voice gentle and soothing. "But it is not merely a transaction of power and alliances. The Manda'lore's proposal carries with it the potential for something greater. It is an opportunity to build bridges between our kingdoms, to forge a bond that goes beyond politics and secures a future of peace and prosperity."

Her words resonate within you, and you can sense the depth of her conviction. Yet, a part of you yearns for the freedom to choose your own path, to follow the whispers of your own heart.

"I understand the weight of duty, Mother," you say, your voice tinged with both respect and a hint of longing. "But what about love? Shouldn't that be a part of such a union?"

A contemplative silence falls between you, the moon casting its gentle glow upon the world as you both gather your thoughts. Your mother's eyes hold a mixture of empathy and understanding.

"Love, my precious jewel, is a complex tapestry," she replies, her voice carrying the wisdom of experience. "It can bloom from the seeds of friendship, respect, and shared dreams. The foundation of this proposed union is one built on trust and the shared desire for a better future. Love has the potential to grow within such a partnership, as two souls learn to navigate the intricacies of their hearts."

Her words resonate within you, and you find yourself pondering the possibilities. The moonlight bathes the surroundings in a serene glow, as if nature itself is urging you to listen to the whispers of your own heart.

"Ultimately, my dear, the decision rests with you," your mother continues, her voice gentle but firm. "You are the youngest Princess of Asteralis, and your happiness and fulfillment are of paramount importance. I will support you in whatever path you choose, whether it aligns with tradition or leads you on a different journey."

You take in her words, grateful for her understanding and unwavering support. The weight of the decision still lingers, but the seed of possibility has been planted within your heart.

"Thank you, Mother," you say, your voice filled with gratitude and a newfound sense of determination. "I will consider the proposal and listen to the whispers of my own heart. Whatever path I choose, I hope to honor our kingdom and our legacy."

Your mother smiles, a blend of pride and affection shining in her eyes. "I have no doubt that you will, my dear," she replies, her voice brimming with confidence. "Remember, you have the strength and wisdom within you to shape your own destiny. Trust yourself, and the answers will reveal themselves."

Emboldened by your mother's words, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. The night sky seems to shimmer with newfound possibilities, and you find solace in the gentle embrace of the swing.

As you and your mother continue to sway back and forth, you take a moment to reflect on the magnitude of the decision before you. The proposal from the Manda'lore holds the potential for great change, not only for yourself but for the kingdom of Asteralis.

You contemplate the vision of unity and prosperity that your mother spoke of, and you can't help but wonder if such a union could bring about a future where love and duty intertwine. The notion of love blossoming from a foundation of trust and shared dreams resonates deeply within you, and you realize that perhaps the path to happiness lies in finding a balance between tradition and personal desire.

With each passing moment, the night sky grows darker, stars twinkling like beacons of guidance. The moon continues its celestial journey, casting its ethereal glow upon the world. And as you sit on the swing, immersed in your thoughts, you begin to listen to the whispers of your own heart, knowing that it holds the key to your destiny.

The decision may not be an easy one, but with the love and support of your mother, you feel empowered to follow your own path, whether it aligns with tradition or veers in a different direction. You trust that, in due time, the answers will reveal themselves, and you will make a choice that honors both your own happiness and the legacy of Asteralis.

With a newfound sense of clarity and determination, you take one last gaze at the enchanting night sky, its beauty serving as a reminder that even amidst uncertainty, there is always a glimmer of hope. You turn to your mother, a silent understanding passing between you, and together you rise from the swing, ready to face the challenges and opportunities that lie ahead.

Hand in hand, you walk back into the palace, your hearts filled with love, trust, and the unwavering bond between a mother and her child. And as you step forward into the unknown, the night sky continues to watch over you, a tapestry of stars illuminating your path.

As the first rays of sunlight breach the horizon, a palpable sense of anticipation fills the air. The golden hues of dawn paint the sky, casting a warm glow that embraces the world with a gentle embrace.

The dawn chorus of birdsong weaves a melodious tune, adding to the symphony of excitement that stirs within the palace walls.

You step into the new day, the polished marble floors cool beneath your feet. Each breath you take is infused with a mixture of nervous anticipation and quiet determination. The sun's gentle caress upon your face feels like a reassuring touch, inspiring confidence as you make your way towards the throne room.

Approaching the grand entrance, the doors stand tall and imposing, intricately carved with symbols of the kingdom's history. With a steady hand, you push them open, revealing a world of regal splendor beyond.

As you enter, the room exudes an aura of grandeur. Soft sunlight filters through stained glass windows, casting a mosaic of vibrant colors upon the floor. The air hums with restrained energy, as if the very walls hold their breath in anticipation of the decision that awaits.

At the heart of the chamber, your older brother stands tall, exuding an air of authority, accompanied by his beloved husband, General Cadmus, whose presence radiates strength and loyalty.

Across the room, your sister stands gracefully, her regal stature accentuated by the presence of her husband, Lord Cedric, whose unwavering support is evident in his attentive gaze.

Upon the majestic thrones sit your parents, the King and Queen, their expressions a delicate balance of pride, love, and hope. Their presence commands respect, yet their eyes sparkle with warmth and understanding.

The hushed whispers of anticipation reverberate through the throne room, as all eyes turn toward you, the youngest Princess of Asteralis. The chamberlain, courtiers, nobles, and council members fill the opulent space, their presence a testament to the gravity of the moment.

You stand at the center, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves and meet the expectant gaze of your father, the King.

His voice, deep and resonant, fills the room as he addresses you with measured words, giving weight to each syllable. "My dear daughter," he begins, his eyes reflecting a mixture of authority and paternal love, "the time has come for you to share your thoughts and intentions regarding the proposal that has been laid before us."

You feel the weight of his words, the collective gaze of those assembled, and the weight of tradition bearing down upon you. In this moment, you draw strength from the teachings of your mother and the whispers of your own heart.

You take a step forward, the air is thick with anticipation, and a serene determination settles upon your features as you begin to speak.

"Father, honored members of the court," your voice carries through the room, its timbre steady and resolute. You take a moment to gather your thoughts, allowing the weight of your decision to settle within you.

"I have given careful consideration to the proposal put forth by the Manda'lore," you continue, your voice filled with a sense of conviction. "And after much reflection and listening to the whispers of my heart, I stand before you today to affirm my acceptance of this union."

A hushed silence fills the throne room as your words hang in the air. All eyes remain fixed upon you, waiting for your next words, and the anticipation is palpable.

"I understand the significance of this decision, not only for the kingdom of Asteralis but for the future of our people," you express, your voice carrying a mix of responsibility and determination. "It is my belief that this union holds the potential to strengthen our alliances and pave the way for a future of unity and prosperity."

As you speak, you feel a surge of confidence welling within you, fueled by the knowledge that you are making a choice based on a combination of duty, trust, and the possibility of love.

"I embrace this proposal with an open heart and a steadfast commitment to honor the traditions and values of our kingdom," you proclaim, your voice echoing with sincerity. "I am prepared to embark on this journey, knowing that it will require dedication, understanding, and resilience."

As the last words leave your lips, the room erupts into a symphony of emotions. The silence breaks, replaced by whispers, murmurs, and exclamations of surprise and approval. Courtiers exchange glances, their faces a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.

Your brother, the Crown Prince, steps forward, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sister," he says, his voice filled with pride, "your decision speaks volumes of your wisdom and dedication to our kingdom. May this union bring forth the unity and prosperity we all strive for."

General Cadmus, standing by your brother's side, nods in agreement. "I have no doubt that together, our kingdoms will thrive," he adds, his voice resonating with confidence and support.

Your sister, radiant with joy, takes a step closer to you. "Little sister," she says, her voice filled with affection, "I am overjoyed to witness this moment. Your courage and willingness to embrace this path inspire me. May this union bring you the happiness and fulfillment you deserve."

Lord Cedric, standing beside your sister, places a hand on her shoulder and nods in agreement. "Our kingdoms shall stand united, and our families will share a bond that strengthens us all," he affirms, his voice filled with conviction.

The room buzzes with conversations, as nobles and council members discuss the significance of this decision. Your parents, the King and Queen, exchange a knowing glance, their eyes shimmering with pride and love.

Your father, the King, steps forward, his voice carrying the weight of his authority and the warmth of a father's love. "My dear daughter," he says, his voice resonating with pride, "your decision to accept this union fills my heart with pride and joy. Your dedication to our kingdom and your willingness to forge a path of unity and prosperity are commendable. May this union be blessed by the gods and lead us to a future of peace and harmony."

Your mother, the Queen, approaches you with grace and tenderness. She takes your hands in hers, her eyes shimmering with a mix of emotions. "My precious jewel," she whispers, her voice filled with love, "your strength and conviction inspire me. As you embark on this journey, know that you carry the legacy of Asteralis within you. May this union bring you fulfillment and the love your heart desires."

Tears well up in your eyes as you feel the overwhelming support and love surrounding you. In this moment, you realize that you have made a decision that aligns with your duty, your heart, and the aspirations of your kingdom.

As the throne room begins to settle, your father raises his hand, signaling for silence. The room falls into hushed anticipation, awaiting his next words.

"Let it be known," he proclaims, his voice resonating with authority, "that the youngest Princess of Asteralis has accepted the proposal of the Manda'lore. May this union bring forth a future of unity, strength, and prosperity for our kingdom."

The chamberlain steps forward, a scroll in hand, ready to record the momentous decision in the annals of history. With a steady hand, he begins to write, etching the words that will forever mark this day in the story of Asteralis.

And as the ink dries upon the parchment, sealing your acceptance of the proposal, you feel a surge of hope and determination coursing through your veins.

The path ahead may be filled with challenges and unknowns, but with the support of your loved ones and the resilience within your heart, you are ready to embrace this union and carve a future that blends duty and love, tradition, and personal fulfillment.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

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obislittleone · 1 year

Text

What One Was Mine

Chapter 10

Din Djarin Royalty!AU / Tangled!AU

Pairing: Din Djarin x Princess Kryze!Reader

A/n: it’s been a hot minute but guys pedro is trending again and I’m legit so happy over it (i had one or two bad experiences with new fans trying to gatekeep or whatever) i’m just so happy he’s getting more recognition tho bc THATS OUR PRECIOUS DAD

Warnings: oh boy kinda a lot… mentions of death, having beatings take place, several scenes with blood… there’s a flogging in the courtyard?? References to sexual themes. Uncomfortable situations fr… imprisonment and degradation. I think that’s it but remind me if i’m wrong.

The way you parted from your new fiancé was bittersweet. Bitter, because it was all too early, but sweet, knowing you would see him again every day after for as long as you should live. You snuck back to your room together, but went separate ways after you entered your doorframe. It hadn’t been for your lack of trying, though.

“Stay with me tonight,” you pleaded with those glazed brown eyes, his stare was always intense, but there was a softness to it when directed upon you. “I know the time when my handmaiden comes, I can wake you before then.”

He pondered it, of course he did. Grogu was in the royal nursery for the time being, and you were standing with your hands against his chest in a dim hallway while asking him to remain by your side through the night. The look in your eyes told him you wanted something more from him, something not so innocent as you were. He couldn’t in good consciousness give you what you desired until you were married. Though he’d never cared before, or even heeded the tradition of waiting for intimacy till marriage, he knew that the terms had now changed. You were a princess, and he was undeserving of you anyways. To steal away your virtue and risk a scandal that could ruin your name in the large and well known kingdom was not likely on his to-do list. He was going to do everything he possibly could to make sure that this was done right, starting now.

“Not tonight, Mesh’la,” he pulled you closer to his chest, kissing the top of your head as a sweet ending to the night. He knew his refusal might make you sad, but his use of an endearment spared your heart and only made it flutter in response. “I will see you tomorrow, as long a you save me a dance.”

“I can’t even think of dancing with someone else.”

He gently brought you away from his chest, using his finger and thumb to raise your chin, eyes meeting once more. You were tired, but your sleepy gaze fell on his and did not want to leave. He understood the feeling, but decided on being the one to bring it to an end. He thought it responsible, though it felt wrong to leave you this way.

“Until then,” he gathered your hand in his, noting the comparable size difference before kissing your knuckles. He never looked away from you, and that was your detriment. His magic would not soon wear off, for even in many years to come, as long as he looked at you like that, like you hung stars, moon, and sun in the sky, you’d always be putty in his hands.

“Goodnight, Din.”

He backed away, fading into the hallway, as you went into your room and shut the door behind you. You slid down the wooden blockade, arms wrapped around yourself and a lovestruck smile adorning your face. You were to be married to the love of your life, and spend an eternity together, going on adventures, doing good in the kingdom, and raising baby Grogu. Already you had a family that you cherished above anything in the worlds, surely nothing could ever go wrong.

Din was elated as well, but keeping light of foot to avoid any attention as he snuck through the halls and back to his assigned suite. It was best to keep all of this quiet until after your coronation ball, because hopefully things would be settled more firmly into stone then, and a consort marriage could be announced.

He was turning the corner to his door when all of a sudden he was ripped away by several pairs of arms. He struggled in their grasp, trying to break free, unsure of why this was happening, but the men who were clearly meant to detain him came prepared, giving a sharp hit to the side of his head, knocking him completely unconscious for them to drag down the hall and out of the palace, heading straight for the dungeons.

The morning awoke you with a shivering chill, but you relaxed into it, pulling the comforter closer to you as you waited for the hand maiden to come and bring you out of the big and luxurious bed. You’d never tire of the sleeping accommodations, although you you would admit, if you could give it up to spend another night on the forest floor wrapped in your hunter’s arms, you most definitely would.

You waited several more minutes, unsure of why the girl named Elise did not come on time like she normally did. You were beginning to be concerned, had something happened to her? Was she alright?

You threw off the sheets, throwing your feet over the side of the bed and standing, trying to find the dressing gown you usually wore in the morning while your hair and face were being attended to. It was a long and dull process and often you hated sitting through it, but you would have rather endured it this morning than be running around the room frantically, nerves on high end that someone you know may be hurt or something.

You had just found your dressing gown when suddenly the doors opened and in came the girl that usually helped attend to you. You heaved a deep sigh, greeting her with a smile.

“Elise, you hadn’t come at the normal time, I was worried something happened to you,” you chuckled over your words, shaking your head and realizing you had been ridiculous to jump to such conclusions so quickly.

“My apologies, your highness… the entire staff has been distracted this morning,” she paused, immediately resuming her work of helping you pull on the dressing gown. “There was a flogging in the castle courtyard, a new prisoner.”

You hated hearing about the mistreatment of the men and women in this kingdom. You’d heard much about the so called ‘prisoners’ they kept. Poor and hungry people who may only had stolen a roll of bread to survive, now to be tortured and held against their will for it. This was what you had wanted to change, and so far you were disappointed, because right now you were powerless to do anything. The king was harsh and unforgiving, and you wanted to stay on his good side in order to achieve your goals, but it was taking so long.

“Poor soul,” you mumbled softly, but she heard it, and as she ushered you to the vanity chair that you were used to by now, she explained further.

“Poor indeed. The staff say he was a guest in the castle, you may even know him,” she rambled on, and you shot up to a straight stance only just as you were taking a seat. You turned to her and gave wide eyes. “I didn’t mean to upset you, your highness. I speak too plainly.”

You were upset, but her speaking plainly was not the reason. You began breathing quickly, and tried to have a single coherent thought.

“What did this man look like?” Your expression made her believe you were angry, and partly you were, but also completely mortified and worried for another.

“He was quite tall, had darkish features. I didn’t get a good look at him,” she tried her best to respond to your question, but in all honestly she couldn’t understand why you were so concerned. Even if you knew this man, shouldn’t you know that the castle laws come first? That if a rule is broken against the king that it is punishable?

“No,” you shook your head, racing for the doors. Elise cried out for you to come back, to calm yourself and not get worked into a frenzy because it was bad for your complexion.

You were half dressed, not even, and considered wildly inappropriate to be walking the halls of the castle, much less leaving it and rushing out to the courtyard, where the king and a few advisors stood, accompanied by some guards who had just carried out a horrible act.

It seems they were all ready to leave, and the prisoner had already been taken away. It was very clear, however, there was still his blood that dripped down and covered the cobblestones of the area, leading up to the whipping post. The sight made you sick, but you persisted, lacking all sense of decorum as you stood straight behind the king, tugging on his cape and making him face you.

“What did you do?” Your question was nothing short of venomous as it dripped from your mouth, and king Gideon was genuinely terrified, if only for a moment. He knew that he had the numbers, and the manly bravado to overpower you if needed, but it didn’t stop him from having a second of fear.

“I have found an enemy of the kingdom and brought him to justice. I’m afraid your… companion is a very notorious thief, my dear. Not to worry, I will dispose of him for you. He shall hang at first light tomorrow.”

His smug smile, and the play of his words. You knew he was taunting you. He must have known about yours and Din’s secret relationship, otherwise this behavior was completely out of the blue and unlikely to occur. It was him, after all, who agreed to the presence of said thief in the castle along with Grogu. The child was well liked by everyone, and Gideon could not deny he found the little green fellow charming… but the hunter. The one who’d stolen your heart and bent down on one knee to enact what the king could only view as a proposal. He was no longer welcome in the home of royalty.

“Let him go,” your eyes were turning dark, and your fists were clenched so tight they almost shook from the pressure. What would you do if he should not concede? Your power had nearly fully restored itself to you, though not as strong as before, it certainly still had enough power to drop him where he stood. You hated the thought of killing someone, of taking a life and becoming something you always swore you were not, but if it meant your hunter’s life was spared, then so be it.

“I’m afraid I can’t. Though I only wish to make you happy, my princess, the law still stands, and he has broken it one too many times to be left alive.”

It was hypocrisy, all of it. He made it sound like a righteous deed, to lock away someone who has done many wrongs, but he was the one who pushed so many to commit acts of crime every day, just by keeping them starving in the streets. He bred crime then persecuted it to become a hero. He was a wolf stalking his prey, the innocent people of Mandalore, who never did anything to deserve his reign of tyranny.

“If you don’t do as I ask, I will-“

“You’ll what?” He stopped you mid sentence, only making your anger to grow. He kept that horrid and demeaning smile on his face at all times, never letting it dwindle, for his pride held strong. “You forget who’s kingdom this is, you forget your place.”

What could you even do to respond to that? How could you keep your dignity in challenging him without it ending so poorly that his blood may be spilt onto the courtyard stones? You would never use your powers to hurt anyone, you swore from your childhood that you may never allow yourself to fall that low, and yet, you were so angry, fuming and red in the face as you glared to the man in front of you. He was no king, he did not govern his people his respect and care, he ruled over them as if they were mud under his boots. He made them to fear him, his only attribute as a king was intimidation. He wasn’t a king, he was a prison keeper.

Your silence had dragged on far too long, and for that he assumed he had put you in your place, made you see things from the right perspective.

“That’s what I thought,” he spoke, beginning to walk past you, curving around your body and smirking as you stood firm on your feet, bare to the ground like they had almost always been before. “Mayfeld, see to it that she is readied for tonight, the ball is in her honor, after all.”

You winced at the mere mention of the occasion. Sickness spread through your stomach at only the thought that you could be made to attend such an event, and with a smile on your face, while the love of your life is in pain, and rotting away his last night on this forsaken earth in a prison cell. Your anger was still red hot, and flaming to the touch. Anyone who neared you need beware, but also, they may need to prepare for the oncoming stream of tears that was fast approaching. You forced yourself to hold them in until the king had re-entered the castle. There was no point in giving him the satisfaction.

The king’s advisor, Miggs Mayfeld, had spoken to you on a few occasions. He was a yes-man in anyone’s book, but you saw people differently than they were, and you could tell that there was a certain kindness in his eyes, hidden beneath hardened layers that no one could see straight away unless they were willing to take the time to peel said layers away. Even now, as he came to your side, he seemed conflicted. He stood a few feet away, not wanting to upset you further than you had been already. He seemed, for lack of a better word, afraid. But you had no intention of hurting him, nay anyone else.

“You should come with me,” he said it with his eyes to the ground, his head parallel to his feet. He sounded very empathetic, as if he’d grown used to the way the king had treated people, and was now just a bystander to anyone he dealt to, feeling their pain the same way he had all those year ago.

“No,” you stood firm, and though you understood he was just doing his job, he now seemed like the enemy. Doing the king’s bidding made him an extension of your foe, in spite of the fact that he seemed to dislike the king as much as you do, now. “Take me to the hunter.”

Your demand was left into the air, and Mayfeld nearly choked on his saliva at how boldly you delivered it. You clearly weren’t playing games, but he couldn’t afford to surpass his own orders for ones given by you. Even if you did outrank him, you had not been crowned a member of the royal family as of yet, making your commands null and void.

“I can’t, and I think you know that,” he didn’t beat around this bush anymore. He wasn’t going to waste his pleasantries on you, knowing you understood the maniacal situation at hand. “But I can take you to someone who can help. By no means are you to mention this to anyone. If you do, my head is on the line.”

He was speaking quite literally. A traitor to the king would be instantly dealt with, and would probably not make it till sunrise to see the thief and hunter hung at the gallows. You couldn’t tell why he was doing this, if maybe he’d just had enough of the mistreatment, or maybe he simply wanted someone to stand up to the king, either way, you knew his help would be vital.

You followed him in the direction of the far off east wing of the castle, which had been completely separated by a wall of pillars and turrets. If you remember correctly, this wing was home to a few lords and ladies of the kingdom, and sat right between the gates and the castle gardens. As you walked passed, you remembered the hour of the night before, the moonlit white roses, and sparkling daisies that sprung up from the earth. Beauty turned to anger and suffering since then, and you shook off the nasty feeling you had as you finally entered a doorway of the luxurious homestead.

The walls were ornate like the interior of the castle, though the ceilings were lower, and the decor was not as precise and detailed. It looked like some of the things you saw in the village, the building structures that have probably been standing for ages. This looked like true mandalorian culture, and you wondered if the king had changed the castle to look a certain way from perhaps being like this before he began his rule.

Mayfeld whispered to the guard in the hallway, whom looked at you suspiciously before returning his eyes to the man before him. He seemed like he was trying to make a decision, and waited a second or two before letting out a sigh and a nod. He rounded the corner to another room, and returned with a woman you were quite familiar with. She had been at every afternoon tea you were made to attend. She was the one with fiery red hair, and eyes that almost reminded you of your own, though hers were worn with years of sights she did not wish to see.

“Lady Bo Katan,” Mayfeld bowed shortly before closely approaching her and speaking lowly at a volume you could not hear. You waited patiently, and eventually, they both came forward. “She knows the hunter.”

Bo Katan, as formal as she may be, only took a once over of your attire, deeming it unnecessary to call any attention to the fact that you were only covered by a silk nightgown and a sheer dressing robe. You must have been in a hurry.

“If you wish to see him, you will have to wait till nightfall, after the celebration os over,” she told you, and you were about to protest, opening your mouth to argue before she held her hand up. “I’m not finished. You must also attend the party to seem as though you have forgotten the matter.”

“I can’t put on that dress and walk those floors knowing how he’s being kept. I don’t just want to see him, I want him to be free. I refuse to watch him die tomorrow.”

“I understand your haste, but may I offer you some wisdom?” The tilt of her head and slight narrowing of her eyes gave you a view into her mind for only a second, and you could tell she knew what she was saying. You nodded for her to continue. “The king has eyes and ears everywhere. If you ever want to see the hunter again, it will need to be done with discretion and planning. I have been in this court since King Gideon took over, and I plan to see him taken from his throne, but I cannot do so by rushing through and wreaking havoc. You understand?”

Something didn’t add up, something about her seemed off… in a familiar way.

“Why would you be willing to wait so long for something that may never happen?” Your question gave her a look of sheer confusion. Were you missing something? Had you somehow dozed off in one of the days before when they were explaining anything about everything to you?

“You really don’t know…” her voice seemed to pity you, but only for your lack of information. She turned to Mayfeld, who was partially listening by now, then back to you, still stunned. “I am Bo Katan Kryze. I’m your sister.”

No…

You weren’t eager to quickly accept this fact, as you had certainly forgotten you even had a remaining sister left alive. Satine Kryze, and the younger, Bo Katan Kryze. Your flesh and blood, never known to you until this very moment.

“You…” the words were short from your mouth, as you failed to gather them as you started to speak. You couldn’t gather a single coherent thought, and though it made sense as to why, you tried to reason with your own mind and say something. “You’re the rightful heir.”

“I was once, but I squandered my chances. I was too young to understand the consequences of my actions, and I lost the throne in a foolish match with a stranger to Mandalore. My decisions were my own, and it is because of them that Gideon is King,” she explained it to you, and you began to understand the weight and severity of this rule’s history. It was… won? How can you win the throne? “I cannot challenge him again on terms of a deal I made in my surrender.”

The air in the room was thick as her words came to an end, and she turned to the King’s advisor to make sure he knew his place, and would not spill any of this to the King to earn favor. Of course, the history of the battle was to remain a hushed topic, and everyone new this, but the one person who could oversee any punishment in the rules being broken was not present, so speak of it they would, right in front of you no doubt. You thought about it for a minute. Surely you were powerful enough to defeat Gideon in a battle. Your powers could possibly end him on sight if it was necessary. The only obstacle would be the challenge itself.

“I could challenge the King,” you spoke assuredly of yourself, earning two heads snapped with immediate haste upon hearing something they deemed so halfwitted.

“You are no warrior, believe me, the King is more spry and capable than he looks.”

You should not blame either of them for seeing you as a stupid girl, only an innocent child of which knew nothing she spoke of, and shook off their complete and utter disapproval of your idea at first.

“I am capable as well,” you told them, and with the audacity and nerve that he had, Advisor Mayfeld scoffed at you, shaking his head and placing his hands on his hips. He was not having any of your foolish notions. “I can prove it.”

You rose your hand from your side, eyes finding the perfect subject for your demonstration. There was quite an ugly looking vase that caught your vision when you were walking in. It did not match the rest of the authentic Mandalorian decor surrounding, it looked like something that would probably be kept in the main castle, along with all the other gaudy and dramatic looking objects. You lifted it high into the air, bringing it towards you while their backs were still turned, but they spun around quickly when sensing some sort of energy passing between them from you and something behind.

You didn’t get to see their looks of astonishment when they realized just exactly what you were doing, but the gasps followed by long silence was enough for you to know that they had been captivated by your show of power. You flung your wrist, sending the vase into the opposite wall across the room, the shattering sound of the glass echoed, and Mayfeld jumped slightly on impact.

“I know it’s not going to be a conventional fight, but I believe that-“ the wind was swiftly knocked out of you as you were pushed harshly against the wall by Mayfeld, a dagger to your throat as your stared at him with wide eyes.

“She’s a witch!” Mayfeld was not letting up, and though the powers bestowed upon her little sister were momentarily frightening, Bo Katan saw this act as madness, pulling him from you as fast as she could.

“You will do well to keep your hands off of her,” she demanded, and you realized now that this had been yet your second encounter with someone claiming you were a witch.

“Her powers are like that of the shadow keepers, she doesn’t belong here, in a castle,” he glared back at you, but the effect didn’t travel as far as it should have since you were still gasping for your breath. “She must be from the dark forrest.”

“That’s enough,” Bo was sick of hearing the miscreant speak any further. “You are still under my authority, or do you forget?”

His stern eyeline had finally shifted away from you and onto her, but you still felt the adrenaline of his stare weighing from when it had been firmly on your being.

“You will not speak a word of any of this to the King, or anyone else for that matter. What you have seen stays inside these walls, do you understand?”

He didn’t like the king, hated him even. He never had a problem with going behind his back before, but now? Well, this had gone farther than what he had known. The girl who claimed to be the rightful heir, but does not overtake the king for his throne, shown up after being missing and assumed dead for eighteen years, now suddenly reveals the power she has been hiding all along. It was something out of a fairytale and he could hardly believe it. Surely, the king would praise him, reward him even, for letting him in on the little secret that could pose a threat to him remaining the ruler of this kingdom…. But he didn’t care about the rewards, and he didn’t care about being praised, not by Gideon at least. You were the first real contender to dethrone him in years, and he would not pass up the opportunity to see that two-faced dictator get what he deserved, not even if it meant siding with a witch.

“I do.”

His nod and heave of a long, deep sigh meant he was not only in agreement with her commands, but he was approving of the plan to let you challenge the king.

“It’s settled, then,” Bo turned back to you, looking you up and down once again, now seeing something far different from that of when you entered her home. “Gideon will be challenged at the ball tonight, but we have to make sure nothing is out of place or suspected until then.”

You looked at your apparel, and knew instantly that it was not in your best interest to remain in this dressing gown until tonight’s event.

“I suppose I should start getting ready.”

You put on a brave face, though it was hard, and your mind kept traveling back to the plan. The very reason it was being enacted still held against his will in a prison cell amongst the other poor thieves and said ‘criminals’ in the dungeon. He was not innocent, perse, but he was not a bad man, and did not deserve to be killed at morning light like everyone was planning. You wanted so badly to sit with him, to hold him close to you and let him know that you weren’t going to stand for this, that you would save him at any cost. You wanted to take his hands in your own and convey to him all the love you held that would not so easily be diminished by simple threats.

The ball had already begun, and your ladies in waiting were surrounding you, putting the final touches onto your dress and hair, lacing your feet with the most glorious shoes that you’d rather do without. You watched out of the window, looking down at all the people arriving to the grand hall of the castle, seeming like Lords and Ladies and Dukes and Duchesses. Only those of high importance and stature, you could imagine.

“It will be time, soon,” Bo Katan was dressed very elegantly, in the classic Kryze family colors of blue and white. She came around your seat to stand in front of you, hoping to see a face of determination, but instead she found one of worry and nerve. “You won’t back out?”

You couldn’t lie, it scared you to think that in front of all these people, pouring into the ballroom right this minute, you would humiliate the King by offering a duel that could dethrone him. It was a bad move, but he was a coward, and if done in secrecy, he would decline, and have you and your hunter killed. If done in front of a multitude, with many eyes to not only hear of the duel, but to possibly see it with their own eyes? He may have been a coward, but he was far more prideful than he was filled with fear. It was risky, it was practically insane, but you would go through with it.

“I won’t, I swear it. I can’t leave him there,” you had revealed your motivation to her quite early, of course you had… and she understood. She once had a love that she would do anything for, but unfortunately death was an untimely thing, and it happened to like picking and choosing it’s victims. You though? You had the ability to play a hand against death, and you would take the opportunity every single time.

“This hunter of yours, what has he done to be imprisoned?”

“Other than being caught with me?” You spewed that part with annoyance, sure that she understood the weight of responsibility you felt for part of this. “He was the thief who stole the darksaber. I’ve heard some strange stories circulate around since I’ve lived here, but the truth of the matter is that it was in his possession for the entire duration of it being missing, or rather… mine. I would know, that’s how I met him.”

“You were his accomplice?” Her eyebrows furrowed, and she tried to stop from cracking a smile, because the sound of it was utter nonsense. You were a little ray of sunshine, a rainbow in the dark, and a silver moon amongst dark skies. You who giggled like a sweet child in the halls after tea with the king and advisors, and read fantasy books with happy endings that were unreal to life… There was no way you were in on a job with a notorious thief and hunter.

“Not precisely, no. He stumbled into my home after stealing it, and I hid it from him to make a trade. I didn’t know what it was, though it felt oddly familiar.”

“It’s apart of your bloodline, it belongs to you.” She placed a hand on your shoulder, turning you away from the window to look into the mirror. You wouldn’t deny you looked rather beautiful. You fit the role of a princess, and now you could play the part with confidence. The emerald green was adorning you so well, and you doubted there was a spot on you that was out of place. It came together so well, but there was only one person you wished to see you looking like this. Perhaps he would, by the end of the night when this all was over.

“It will be mine again, whatever the cost.”

The ball was so elegant, the decorations were stunning and the aura around the halls was nearly perfect, with lit candles near every sconce and nook there was. The beautiful dark green drapes and vines around the scene matched your dress perfectly, and though you hadn’t yet made your first appearance, everyone was having a wonderful time. All except you it would seem.

Your small band of secret alliances was hidden in the upstairs sitting room nearest to the grand staircase, which would have to be ascended any moment.

“Can you see him?” You were sat on a chair, looking to Mayfeld who had been overseeing the actions of the King as he strutted around, greeting his guests and the nobility as they entered the elaborate ballroom.

“He’s still moving, he hasn’t stopped.”

Lady Bo Katan was already in the shuffle, as she was trying to make sure there were no other intercepting forces on the ground that could possibly interfere with the plan. It would be madly simple as long as everything went correctly, and it had thus far.

You were to enter the ball, being welcomed as the Lost Princess of Mandalore. After any greetings with surrounding comers you would be expected to dance with the King as per his request. Once the King felt secure in your actions, then the switch would flip, and you would command the attention of everyone in the hall to your announcement. The challenge to the throne would be set in stone, and there would be too many witnesses for him to deny it. If all went well, the duel would take place at first light, and the hanging of your hunter would be postponed until the battle was over. You would win against the King, of that you were sure. He may have known about your powers, but not to the extent of what they are really capable of. The people who’d hidden you away as a baby were right to fear your power, but not because of the harm it may bring. Instead they should have ben more aware of your will to save whom you love through that power.

“When is he going to call me down?” You wondered, muttering it halfway under your breath as a thought spoken aloud.

“Now,” he said, taking two steps towards you to give you a hand up from your seat. What a contrast to his earlier behavior of slamming you against a wall in accusation. “He’s just signaled for you.”

“Now?”

Though you’d waited almost an hour, it felt too fast all of a sudden. If only you’d been focussing on calming your nerves rather than thinking about the plan, for it had been completely engraved into your mind by now, and there was no chance you would forget it.

“C’mon, your highness,” he guided you to the top of the stairs, and immediately every head was turned and gasps could be heard from below. The whispers were rowdy, yet still discrete, and the soft string music playing gave a small sense of safety when you looked out over the crowd. “Knock em’ dead.”

You pulled your shoulders back, pasting a fake smile to your face that spread across your cheeks and made you look happy to anyone who couldn’t see the pain in your eyes, for having to act this way under the circumstances being what they were. Ascending the steps was the least of your worries, and yet your heart raced over the possibility of falling. R

“The Princess Kryze has returned!” And the moment it was announced, you reached the bottom, bowing nearly to the floor in order to impress the many guests. Given the eruption of applause when you stood, you deemed your performance rather well done.

King Gideon met you in the center of the room, where a circle had formed to surround you both. His smug smile made you want to hurl out whatever contents were left in your stomach. It wouldn’t be much, considering you nearly refused to eat while thinking about the conditions Din was probably having to survive under.

“You are absolutely ravishing, my dear princess.”

“It took a while to achieve, but I’m glad my appearance is to your liking,” though it was said with as much enthusiasm as you could muster, the words held much disdain in your mind. You were truly only a trophy to him, a prize to look upon and enjoy when he means to. Had anything else never occurred, you’d still hate his being more than anything. He held nothing but darkness in his heart, and would never have been a partner worth even settling for. You’d rather spend the rest of your days as a poor town’s maiden with Din, as opposed to living a life full of luxury and riches with Gideon.

“Since you look so angelic in this splendid work of a dress, it would be a shame if the guests were unable to see it move how it was designed to,” a horrid way of asking you to dance, but you supposed you weren’t expecting anything from him at this point. You only smiled wide when he stuck his hand out to you. “Shall we?”

“Of course,” you responded, taking the outstretched appendage and allowing him to pull you closer. The discomfort ran through your veins, it was so thick and made your heart race and stomach turn. The second his hand fell to your mid back, you nearly felt ill, but kept on in knowing who all of this was for.

The music got louder, and other instruments joined in to form the smooth melody of a waltz. A dance you were expected to fail at by many of the King’s friends. He was the one who had told them so, but he knew better, now. He’d seen you dance with your thief, and you were quite the artist of movement. You flowed like a river through a forrest in the spring. Every movement was well done and meticulously thought out. You’d been practicing with Mayfeld earlier under the scrutiny of Bo Katan, and though it was helpful to rehearse some actual steps, it was much more premeditated than your midnight waltz with Din. With him it was so natural, it was so easy.

Your form was impeccable, even the onlookers thought so. You looked heavenly, quite like a dream. All an act, and it was moving along perfectly.

You had expected to finish the dance without another interaction, however, the King Gideon had other plans.

“You seem to be in a far better mood than this morning,” he said in a mocking tone. He must have felt you tense up for a moment, as his grip on you tightened.

“I suppose I was delirious from the early hours,” your lie was told poorly, and though he might have been swayed by your earlier attempts to make him believe you were in fact happy, your tone drove him to think you were only acting a part. “But you mustn’t mind my behavior.”

He chuckled, looking back at you and spinning you around once before continuing his antics.

“If we’re done playing pretend, I have a deal to offer you.”

Your eyes widened momentarily, and you had to compose yourself as to not give anything else away. This wasn’t part of the plan. He wasn’t supposed to offer you anything… but what if this deal is the difference between winning and losing a battle?

“I’m listening,” you encouraged, keeping up with the rhythm of the steady music that droned on still. You looked out to the crowd and caught Bo Katan’s face, staring on in hope that whatever you spoke of would not hinder anything.

“I believe it comes as no surprise to you that I wish to seek your hand in marriage, for both the good of the Kingdom and myself,” he spoke so assuredly. Whatever he had in mind for this so called deal wasn’t looking to be the better option so far. “But knowing what I do about yourself and the thief, I understand you would always resent me and perhaps look for ways to sabotage my rule if I simply took you as my bride.”

“Get to the point,” you spoke with no aggression, nor any emotion, as you couldn’t let it show on your face what you were feeling.

“If you shall agree to be my Queen, and unite all of Mandalore… I shall set free the prisoner Din Djarin and allow him an exile from the kingdom.”

You froze, your entire body refusing to finish the dance as it backed away from him. He in turn did the same, making it look as though the dance was over, and bowing to you. You thought quickly on your feet and did the same. The crowd again erupted into a fit of clapping and cheering, not rambunctiously, but just as the sort who have been entertained well. Unneeded to say they were well on their way to adoring the Princess Kryze, just as they always have while you were missing.

“Think about it. You have until midnight to decide,” he finished, grabbing your hand once more and placing a kiss to your knuckles before disappearing back into the crowd among his invited guests. They had all taken the dance floor by now, and you had to take several deep breaths before emerging from the scene to find your accomplices.

You spotted the lovely mane of firey hair, going straight to her and getting her attention. She turned around and saw your fearsome expression and spoke no words before pulling you by the hand to a crevice that no one could find you.

“What happened?” She rushed out. Looking over you, every limb shaking like a leaf yet nearly sweating profusely, it wasn’t hard to tell something went wrong.

“He offered me a deal.”

“No, whatever it is, you cannot accept,” she cut off any other words you may have about the matter, as apparently the contents of said deal were of no priority. “Anything he has to offer you will soon be yours anyway.”

“He offered Din’s freedom in exchange for my hand,” you told her, and she felt she needed to slow down and assess more of this interaction before making anymore rash decisions on your behalf. “If I challenge him tonight, he still has the authority to kill Din by sunrise. If I take the deal, I can challenge him once I know my hunter is safe.”

It was risky. The plan as it were had no flaws in Bo Katan’s eyes. All she wanted to see was the King Gideon slain and his rule to end… but she knew how love could complicate things. To you, the life of a thief was more important than the details of overthrowing the King. She once knew love like that, and it had been lost. Though bitter in her feelings over the subject, she couldn’t stop you from saving the one you love, because she wishes she could have done the same if she had been given that chance.

“You’re sure you want to do this? You know what it will cost you if anything goes wrong?”

“I want him safe, I don’t care what it costs me,” you assured her. With a heavy sigh, she nodded, understanding your fervor for protecting that which is close to you.

“Alright,” she agreed, but stopped you from turning and leaving just yet. “Do not let the King know of your decision until we’ve made new plans. Find a way to meet me out in the gardens, make sure no one sees you leave.”

“Are you going to tell Mayfeld?”

“I will, but for now, just do as I’ve said.”

And with that she was off, vanishing into the pool of bodies that was the dance floor. She was not one or dancing, or anything romantic like that, but she would admit it often gave a good distraction to those she did not want aware of her schemes.

You had found a way to sneak through a hall, and around to a hidden staircase that was usually only used for staff. There, you made your way to your room, and once you felt you could let your guard down, you finally let go of the deep breath you’d been holding. You wrapped a thick black cloak oar your shoulders, making sure the hood was flipped up before you left the room. There was no one in the upper rooms right now as it were, for the entirety of the castle’s population could be found in the ballroom.

It was much easier to get to the courtyard in the disguise you donned, as the black fabric made you near invisible to the guards watching from the towers. You crossed the rough gravel into the gardens, hidden now by the large trees and voluminous plant life around you. You only waited for about two minutes before Bo Katan and Mayfeld snuck into the shadows along with you. All the under cover activity should have felt exciting to you, as it was new and daring… but there was too much on the line. A life you could not afford to lose hung in the balance.

“What’s the plan?” You whispered to Bo, but she held her hand out. Your eagerness was sometimes your downfall, but it was a lucky thing you didn’t have to depend on yourself in this mess.

“Come with us,” she said in a hushed tone, but still commanding enough for you not to question where you were about to follow them to.

Mayfeld held a set of keys upon his belt that you didn’t recognize from earlier, and since you were still on the subject of accepting Gideon’s proposal, your mind did not put the pieces together as to what your mystery destination might be.

When you entered the cavernous looking establishment, the smell of old moss and water build up were rather strong, and you wondered what kind of place this might be that it could be infested with the things it was scented with.

Mayfeld lit a lantern on the wall once you were far enough inside not to be seen. It was only now that you saw your surroundings. You were in the castle dungeon. The other inmates looked to be fast asleep by now, some lounging on top of one another is a haze of exhaustion. You passed by a cell that held two familiar faces, though they were also unconscious in the corner of the area. Ran and Xi’an, Din’s old partners, the ones who tried to betray him and take you. Serves them right for ending up where they were.

You followed Mayfeld to the end of the row, where a rough wooden blockading door stood closed. Mayfeld took the keys from his belt and unlocked the door, entering first and holding his hand out for you both to wait. You understood who was inside, and you wanted nothing more than to go in, but for the sake of any plans that would be hatched, you remained standing as you were.

Mayfeld emerged from the room with a solemn look on his face, but he nodded to you anyways, and stepped aside.

You wasted no time in trampling over your skirt layers to get through the doorway. You could barely see by the lantern light from the hallway, but you felt around until you collided with a familiar body.

“Din?” You reached out and placed a hand on his chest, feeling the tattered shirt beneath your fingertips. He took you in his arms in a moment, hugging you close to his body and tucking himself around your form like a sheet to a mattress.

“It’s me, mesh’la.”

You nearly cried, just feeling him around you gave you an overwhelming sense of peace that you hadn’t possessed for the entirety of the day until now.

You tried snaking your arms around to his back, but his harsh wince along with a jolt of his body away made you uneasy again. You barely found his face in the dark, seeing those dark brown irises staring you down under the soft orange glow.

“What have they done to you?” Your tear filled eyes were about to overflow. What horrible treatment had he endured while you were embraced with luxuries the whole day through?

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he tried to calm your worries over him, for they were trivial in comparison to his worries over you. The king could break every bone in his body, make him writhe in pain and peel the skin from his bones and he would endure it all with a sly look upon his face… but if anyone dared touch you or the child, he became a danger to all forces opposed.

“I can help,” you pleaded with furrowed brows and teary eyes. You hand’t yet tested this aspect of your powers since the incident, but you’d like to bet the need for his healing would be enough motivation to instantly muster your strength again.

You reached for the bottom of his shirt and pulled it off with his help, feeling the torn edges from when he’d been tossed around and likely beaten senseless. It was the first time you’d seen his bare skin like this before, and given that the light continued to get brighter the longer your eyes adjusted, you could see the expanse of his broad chest and torso in it’s entirety. You blinked twice to refocus and snap back to reality, seeing over his shoulder the red lines of broken skin.

Coming closer to him again, you wrapped your arms around his body gently, placing your palms on his back. His wince was the last bit of incentive you needed to concentrate your energy on healing him. He sunk into your hold, reciprocating it while he felt the warm spread of your powers beginning to take his pain away. This was perhaps the worst wound you had ever healed, and it was going to take a toll on you physically, but you pushed that thought to the back of your mind. You would do whatever it took to bear his pain for him, especially since he carried it because of you in the first place. Your knees grew weak, and he had to catch you before you fell to the ground. He held you steady, whispering his thanks in your ear until you were able to stand on your own.

“I hate to interrupt, but we’re running out of time,” Mayfeld came through the doorway again, a full lit torch in his hand to shine more light on the scene. Once Bo entered the cell, all were now congregated, and the planning could commence. “I suspect the King has already noticed your absence, it won’t be long before he’s unable to find us as well.”

“She’s come to tell you something, hunter,” Bo gestured to you and him, barely broken apart since they both came into the room. She wanted the plan to resume as they originally hoped it would, and she had a feeling it might, if the man they came to see had anything to say about it.

“Come to tell me what?” He looked to you with confusion, surely you hadn’t found him a way out so fast. Tonight was the night of the grand ball, and if your appearance was any indication, you’d been attending until now.

You didn’t want to tell him, because it would be too hard to actually say goodbye. You’d much rather had just accepted the deal and let him go knowing you saved him. Now, he stood before you, looking so deeply into your eyes you could cry. How were you supposed to send him away knowing you’d never get to see those eyes again.

“The king has offered me a deal,” you tried to avoid his stare as you prepared to let him in on the contents. “The terms being that, if I marry him, you go free.”

His expression dropped, and he shook his head rapidly a took another step closer to you.

“No, you can’t do this,” he protested, and you wanted to interject, but he was far from done speaking. He took your face in his hands, ensuring that you were truly listening to every word. “I would rather die tomorrow knowing you had the freedom to leave than live, and always know you’d have signed yourself away for my sake.”

Bo Katan wanted you to listen to him, to understand that he hated the terms and wouldn’t want you to go through with it. She needed you to know there were no other options.

“Din, you’d be safe. I can’t let you die.”

His heart broke when your voice did, the last of your words falling off into a sad whisper that matched the tears in your eyes.

“I love you,” he said, touching his forehead to yours for a moment and then looking to Bo Katan, whom stood behind you in waiting for the interaction to close. “And I can’t let you do this.”

“What do you suggest she does?” Bo hoped that his answer could coincide with the plan, but even if it didn’t, she was happy to know that his reaction to the news had been what she was anticipating.

He took a deep breath in and focused again on your features, the way they were softly lit by the fire light. They had painted your face like they’d been doing for weeks, but with the softer elements and colors to match your aura for the evening, he couldn’t help but admit you were enchanting. His beautiful girl, the one he’d done all of this for in the first place. No doubt about it, you were the cause for the mess… but he’d do it over and again, one hundred times.

“Run.” It was said with a lonesome sadness, but he meant it. “Take the kid, and get far away from here.”

You shook your head, but he wasn’t going to stop. He only wanted you to be free, after all your years of being kept prisoner, you deserved to be uncaged. Marrying the King would only make you his slave.

“We’re out of time,” Mayfeld said, he and Bo Katan trying to usher you away from the cell. You let yourself be pulled away, seeing Din stand still in the middle of the stone floor. He didn’t want you to go, but if the King found out you were gone with his biggest conspirators, you would be in more trouble than he currently was.

Once the door was closed and locked, the three of you began to book it through the long cell block. You dropped your head to hide from them your tears, knowing that they were probably far stronger with hiding their emotions, and might think you to be weak should you expose them.

Din wouldn’t leave you even if they forced him to. There was only one other option that prevented him from being hanged. You froze in your tracks and closed your eyes, feeling the energy around you, making you gain a courage that you wouldn’t have had before. Seeing Din, in the position he was in, under the roof of the castle dungeon and skin split by violence… it angered you, it lit a flame in your spirit, a passion to do right by him whatever means necessary. More than anything, you wanted him to be free, and free by your side. He’d asked you to marry him, and you intended to keep to your word of doing so.

“Are you alright?” Bo asked, upon noticing you fell behind a few steps.

“I’m fine,” you spoke with a newfound tone, one that was straight forward and firm. It was so different from the unsure voice you’d held only moments ago.

You marched on past them and into the staff entrance of the castle. You used a window reflection to remake your appearance, to hide the fact you’d been crying and to fix the disheveled hair that had sat under your cloak, which was the next thing you ride yourself of.

You gathered your skirt, running through the marble halls and finding the ballroom to be completely full of people dancing, laughing, and having a ball. You spotted him in the crowd, King Gideon. He was talking amongst some allies until he caught your gaze from across the floor. He quickly excused himself and made a beeline to where you stood, straight and tall like a firmly planted tree.

“I had wondered where you disappeared to,” he spoke everything with a smile, whether it was genuine or fake, you didn’t care enough to know, but it was spread across his smug face nonetheless.

“I took some time to think about your offer… and I know what I have to do,” you said sincerely. He smirked, feeling as though he had won. His nod of approval meant you had him where you wanted him. “If you’d allow me to, I’d like to make the announcement myself.”

The dark chuckle he responded with sent chills down your spine, and the shiver that glided over your skin was another unwelcome reaction to the man’s devilish grin. He held his hand to the small of your back, seemingly guiding you towards the elevated platform by the stairs.

“I would love nothing more, my queen,” he raised your hand to his lips and did as he had done earlier, pressing a sloppy kiss to your knuckles. It felt dirty, to let him keep doing that.

Now standing where everyone could see, Gideon commanded the attention of the room, allowing them to face you for your announcement of what he presumed to be your engagement to him. The man was too prideful for his own good, which is why this plan would work so perfectly.

“As the princess of Mandalore, I’d like to thank you all for celebrating with me this evening,” a few glasses were raised as if this were to be a toast in someone’s honor. You heaved a breath before continuing. “This Kingdom has known division for too long, and I believe it is up to me to change the way things have been.” Even King Gideon was pleased with your choice of words. He was almost happy to be standing beside you while making this announcement, but he was about to turn a one eighty in only a moment. “The time has come for Mandalore to begin a new chapter, under a new rule.”

The applause was loud, and the King was impressed, but the final words had not yet been spoken…

“I hereby challenge the faux King Gideon to a duel,” and right then, the gasps of the crowd were all around. The audience had been involved. There were too many witnesses for him to refuse, too many to simply kill you behind closed doors. He froze in place beside you, unsure what to do or where to go. “As per tradition of this nation, the battle will be to the death, and the victor will claim the throne of Mandalore once and for all.”

Your speech was spoken at a volume you’d never dared to speak before. This confidence running through your veins was not yet done, and with it you turned to face Gideon, a smirk on your face now, and a fearsome look on his. Oh, how the tables have turned.

“I shall see you at dawn, my king.”

The mockery was lear in your voice, but he had nothing to say in response. As a last stitch effort to make a fool out of him, you bowed low to the ground in his honor. You turned and left up the stairway, and that was the last he’d seen of you for the night.

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