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the-blind-assassin-12 · 1 year

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To Fall At Your Feet

1200 2400 words for 1200 followers #13

A/N: Hi friends! Welcome to the 12-A-Palooza! This event is my way of saying thank you for sticking with me. Your support and kindness toward me and my writing is out of this world and I’m grateful for every last one of you! This is the first of the final two requests, and since they have taken me SO long to get to, I've decided to double them as a thank you for putting up with me your patience. This one was a challenge for me, and I hope you like what I did with it. The song is about trust - or a slight lack of it - and what it feels like when something seems too good to be true, so that was what I had in mind when writing this one. This is completely stand alone.

Warnings: SW canon typical violence, brief mention of blood/injuries

Requested by: @chiyo13 Song: I'm Not Calling You A Liar Character Choice: Din Djarin - with a heavier set/ plus size woman - Thank you so much for this request! I'm sorry it took so long to get to and I hope you enjoy it! <3

Having a place to call home was new to him.

There was so much he had forgotten about his life before the Mandalorians took him in. He was young, and it was long ago, and the things he’d experienced since then had been in such stark contrast to his earliest memories that they’d been almost entirely overwritten. He knew he had a home, once. A safe place with a soft bed and a family that loved him fiercely. And when he and Grogu settled into the cabin on Nevarro, he realized it was something he could have again.

Something he could give the kid.

Though they spent much of their time traveling the galaxy, Din teaching Grogu along the way, having a place to return to that was just theirs was a comfort that he never imagined he would come to value. Being raised in the Fighting Core and then working in the Guild taught him to aim for survival. Spending time with his son taught him to aim higher.

It taught him how much more to life there was if he was willing to open the door to it.

But before he could think about what that looked like, he needed to ensure that his home was safe. It wasn’t an issue when he and Grogu were there. Both of them were more than capable of defending their territory from any number of threats, and Greef had done a terrific job of eliminating most of the crime in the city. A Mandalorian would always have enemies, though, and an empty cabin couldn’t defend itself.

That was where you came in.

When he brought up his safety concerns to Karga, the magistrate was quick to offer a solution. “I doubt it’ll be necessary as Nevarro is a perfectly respectable planet these days,” the man had said, one hand disappearing into his robe pocket and coming out with a treat for Grogu. Handing it over with a chuckle at the child’s eagerness, he clapped Din on the shoulder. “But I might know someone who can help.”

He’d gone on to explain that while most of the damage that had been done during Gorian Shard’s attack on the city had been repaired, there was still a section of it that had yet to be restored, leaving a small number of citizens without homes. Most of them had people there on Nevarro who could take them in until the reconstruction was complete.

You, however, weren’t from Nevarro. In fact, you’d only been there for a few weeks when the pirates descended, and you’d come only because Karga himself had asked you to. He explained that you were once one of his most skilled bounty hunters, and that he’d asked you to help keep his people safe since the New Republic didn’t seem too keen to answer his requests for aid.

“I’d wager that she’d be more than happy to keep an eye on your abode while you’re gone, so long as the price is right and you give her a place to stay.”

“A hired gun?” Din asked with a tilt of his head, Karga nodding in response. “And you trust her?”

“Of course I do! As much as I trust you, Mando! I’ve always said that some of my favorite people are bounty hunters. And with a weapon in her hands she’s just as capable as you are of providing protection.”

Din considered the man’s words for a beat, then let out a sigh. “Well, I’d want to meet her first before I agree to anything.”

“Of course, my friend, of course!” Pulling another confection from his pocket and handing it to a wide-eyed and perpetually hungry Grogu, he promised to set up a meeting.

– – –

“I don’t know about this, Greef, I’m not a kriffing housekeeper.” You’d scoffed at first when your boss-turned-friend had brought up the idea. Hands on your hips, you frowned at the man. “You told him that, right? I’d sooner catch a transport back to Tatooine and take my chances in Mos Eisley than take a job cooking and cleaning for some-”

“Just meet with him,” Karga had insisted. “He’s not looking for anything other than security, and we both know you’re more than up for that task.”

You’d grumbled, but agreed, and within the next few days you found yourself on a speeder bike, heading in the direction of the cabin out beyond the lava flats. You were doubtful that the man you were on your way to meet would end up hiring you to protect his homestead, sure he would do what so many others had done when deciding whether or not to work with you: take one look at your fuller figure and assume the weight you carried around your midsection meant that you weren’t skilled or able or athletic enough to complete the task at hand. People judged. You assumed he would do the same.

You were wrong.

When you pulled up to the cabin he - and his kid - had been waiting for you on the bench just outside the front door. He rose as you stepped off of your bike, the sunlight glinting off his broad armored shoulders as he moved. The child hopped down from the seat and trailed along at just the right height that the man’s tattered cape brushed the top of his long, green ears, and you couldn’t help the small smile that curved your lips.

“Thank you for coming all the way out here.” His voice had surprised you, huskier than you thought it would be. Warmer. “Greef Karga had nothing but good things to say about your skills. I trust his judgment, but I needed to be sure that I could trust you.”

You liked him right away for how straightforward he was. “Fair enough.” Nodding, you removed your speeder gloves and tucked them into a pocket near your right hip. “If you’re opening your door to someone, you want to know them first.” You brushed your palms together and then extended your right hand out in front of you, introducing yourself.

Just like the sound of his voice, the texture of his gloves against your skin came as a shock to you, the material softer than it looked as it wrapped around your hand. “I’m Din Djarin, and this is Grogu.” He released your hand from his grip and tilted his head towards his left boot, where the child was peeking up at you.

You glanced down, waving to the kid, his toothy little grin bringing the smile back to your face. He raised one clawed hand to wave back, babbling happily, and then Din’s smoky tone caught your attention again. “Is that a pulse rifle on your back?”

You assured him that it was, and though he’d asked you several questions about yourself, posed different scenarios to see what you’d do if the cabin were under attack, and thoroughly threatened you should you ever even think of hurting the child or turning on them in any way, you were fairly certain that you had him at the rifle.

He’d given you the job that same day, which meant that - for the moment, anyway - you had a home. Or at least a place to stay, you reminded yourself, which was all you had been looking for. And that was enough.

… Wasn’t it?

– – –

All he was looking for when Karga set up that meeting had been insurance. Safety. The comfort of knowing he - and more importantly, Grogu - wouldn’t have to go through the pain of losing their home again if something happened while they were away.

You gave him those things, and he was grateful for that.

But the longer you stayed at the cabin, the more he got to know about you and not just about your proficiency with weapons. Each time he and the kid left on a training mission, he realized that he was looking forward not just to returning home, but to seeing you. By the time a year had passed, he realized that he’d found far more than what he’d been looking for when he welcomed you into his life.

You weren’t only there to protect his home. To Din, you’d become synonymous with it.

It wasn’t just the familiarity. It wasn’t just the trust that had grown between you, or the companionship that came with sharing a roof, or the way you helped him look after Grogu without having to ask.

It was the swell in his chest when he caught a smile curving your cheek. It was the calm he felt at the sound of your voice when you spoke his name. It was the way his mind would wander on nights when he couldn’t sleep - to thoughts of sleeping next to you, the shape of you molded to him, skin to skin beneath the sheets. It was the way he imagined how his hands would look, gloveless and gripping your flesh, soft and warm when all he’d ever known had been hard and sharp and cold.

It was the way he wanted you in every sense of the word.

He wasn’t sure how you’d respond to such a bold confession. You’d never indicated that you felt the same way or that you wanted your arrangement to change, so he’d kept it to himself, unwilling to risk damaging the relationship you did have. He convinced himself it was better if you didn’t know.

One holo call was all it took to change his mind on that.

It came in when he and the kid were just re-entering the Outer Rim territories after a lengthy trip to Kashyyk. When the transmission code blinked on screen and he saw that it was coming from you, he smiled to himself under his helmet. “It's her,” he told Grogu, pointing at the section of the screen that displayed the code. The kid’s eyes brightened, his ears lifting as excited little sounds tumbled from his mouth. “You want to answer it? Go on, you remember which button to press.” He nodded as Grogu’s clawed hand hovered over the correct switch, telling him to push it.

But he was unprepared for what he was about to see - or what it would make him feel.

Your face flickered before him and even through the blue tinted light of the projector he could make out a trail of blood coming from your nose, another from a cut that stretched over your eyebrow. The sleeve of your shirt was torn and charred, likely from blaster fire. Your name burst from his lips as Grogu let out a whine from beside him. “What happened?”

“Din. There was an attack. It’s…” You sucked in a breath and winced. “It’s safe now. Bandits came. I took care of them. I just wanted to let you know what you were coming back to.”

“They hurt you.” He growled the words, moving forward in his seat.

You let out a tired huff. “Occupational hazard. Don’t worry, they won’t be back.” Your eyes flashed sharply and he caught your meaning.

And though he was glad that they were dead and could pose no further threat, a part of him almost wished they’d gotten away so that he could kill them himself for what they’d done to you. Fists clamped tightly shut, he seethed silently - over the fact that you were injured, yes. But also over the fact that you assumed all he cared about was that you’d protected the property, because that was all he’d given you reason to think.

He decided then and there that you deserved to know how he felt and what he thought and how much he wanted and needed and cared for you.

– – –

Both Din and Grogu were out of the cockpit before the sand that had gotten kicked up when the N-1 landed had settled.

You’d been waiting on the bench, holding a cold pack to the blaster burn on your left arm when the kid jumped and flipped to your side, a slew of worried sounds spilling out, little arms reaching for you. Dropping the pack, you caught the brown-robed bundle, trying to hold back a wince as he collided with you. “Hey, little guy, it’s okay. I’m alright, see?” You rubbed one of his ears between your fingers to soothe him. “Everything’s fine.”

“No. It isn’t.”

You looked up at the sound of Din’s voice, setting Grogu on the seat next to you. “What do you mean? Are there more bandits? Did you-”

“Nothing like that.” He looked down at the kid. “Grogu, why don’t you go inside and draw a picture of what we did on our trip? You can show it to her later.”

Grogu’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and within seconds he was climbing down and scrambling inside. As soon as he was no longer in sight, Din let out a sigh and sank onto the seat beside you. “I’m sorry.”

You frowned. “It’s not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“I… don’t mean for the bandits.” He turned towards you, bringing his hand up to rest against your wounded arm.

“Din?”

“I can’t believe I could have lost you without ever telling you how important you are to me. How much I care about you. That’s what I’m sorry about.”

“What?” You blinked. “You… You don’t have to say that just because you feel bad about what happened, Din.” You swallowed. “You don’t have to-”

He said your name, hand leaving your arm to hesitantly curve around your cheek. “I’m saying it because it’s true and I need you to know it.”

Though it came as a thorough shock, you could almost feel the honesty rolling off of him and you realized that he had never once been anything but truthful with you. And even though it seemed like something you only dared to dream about when he was gone and you were alone in the cabin - him choosing you when he could have anyone in the galaxy - something in your chest told you that it had been there all along.

You’d just been too afraid to admit that you wanted it.

“Well -” You brought your hand up to cover his, keeping it there as his fingers spread to accommodate yours. “Now I know.”

And now you would make sure that he knew how you felt, too.

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