#grogu mentioned

[padawansuggest]

JediTok

Obi-Wan: *filmed walking but on 2x speed with a destination in mind and fairly quiet*

Caption: ‘I told master I was bored and he gave me some great suggestions for what I can do’

Obi-Wan: *walks past training salles with padawans working on saber forms*

Obi-Wan: *walks past a large cafeteria with doors open to show lots of different species eating together*

Obi-Wan: *walks past a room with a sign in ten different languages saying ‘aquatic rooms ahead, if you didn’t know that, you are lost, please find someone to guide you if you cannot guide yourself’*

Obi-Wan: *passes a training room with obstacle courses and rock climbing walls and mats for learning force jumps with a few kiddos tumbling and others safely learning to slow their falls with indulgent masters helping them, pauses, stays a good 15 seconds on 2x speed to watch them before leaving again*

Caption: ‘that was always the funnest training type when I was little, I remember falling on my friend and we both had bruises for a week’

Obi-Wan: *walks past what looks like the entrance to a library, noting a stern looking master flirting/arguing with a black and red Mandalorian, who keeps trying to get past her into the room*

Caption: ‘that’s master Nu, she’s very protective over her archives, and that’s her not-boyfriend that keeps trying to get in to see them even though the senate says he’s really not supposed to be in the temple’

Obi-Wan: *walks past what looks to be a temple summer garden with masters and littles all meditating and playing*

Obi-Wan: *spends a whole minute of the video walking around the room of a thousand fountains*

Caption: ‘my friends and I ‘camp’ here sometimes, and sometimes master Yoda catches frogs in here but we aren’t allowed to encourage him to eat them in front of the younglings 😂’

Obi-Wan: *walks past an amused adult at the creche entrance, waves, walks past multiple classrooms and playrooms, occasionally sidestepping a little while they giggle at him because he’s filming himself*

Obi-Wan: *eagerly bouncing on his toes as he gets further into the creche, till a laughing master lets him into a nursery*

Obi-Wan: *sets the camera down in a way that he can film himself settling back into a rocking chair, letting the master carefully hand him one of the babies swaddled up*

Caption: ‘yeah. The temple has a lot of things to do if one is bored. This one is my fave’

[sashketter]

Something about Grogu and Omega rejecting even just the possibility of using the Force feels wrong and disingenuous to me, as if at the heart of Star Wars wasn’t Luke Skywalker and the Jedi and their philosophies, like I’m not saying there aren’t valid ways of thinking and being in Star Wars that don’t involve the Force, and the Jedi Order is as open to criticism as any other religious institution, but for two young characters with the most narrative potential to reject reaching their fullest character potential because it precludes the chance of being part of a family they crave feels a little backwards, and I can’t help but wonder if the House of Mouse, the company built on family films, had something to do with that because they’re essentially saying nothing is more important than family, but I would argue that part of the hero’s journey is overcoming your family to cross the threshold they represent, that George Lucas’s original underlying message is that there are things bigger than you, whether that’s something cosmic like the Force or something more down to earth like a grassroots rebellion, that can give your life meaning if you devote yourself to them and that does not necessarily mean a family, but it does mean selflessness and courage and compassion, which can be cultivated both alone and in your relationships with others, like I love the found family trope as much as the next nerd but not if one of the family members needs to reject or suppress a powerful and complicated/complicating part of themselves just in order to participate and be accepted in their chosen group.

[omgahgase]

idk man but i just picture din as this amazing cook who can whip up an delicious, healthy meals for grogu out of like 3 lame ass ingredients and luke is just never allowed in the kitchen bc he somehow burned water so din told him one day "i'll do all the cooking" and he does. and he's good at it.

but give this man a recipe for a cake or pie? no. absolutely not. he will serve you a blackened brick and think nothing is wrong with it. din's homemade cookies? this man is a mandalorian, he'll make the spiciest space chocolate chip cookies you've ever tasted. and that's if they make it out of the oven edible and not charred. not even grogu can stomach his baked goods. boba, cobb, and fennec have all told him that he's a terrible baker, and din's response is always, "you guys are just picky."

"yeah, vod, i choose to keep my teeth. not chip them on those abominations."

"bo is right—"

"don't call me that."

*chuckles* "bo is taken. call him booba."

"can it, shand."

din just shrugs and plops his horrendous snickerdoodles on the coffee table like they didn't just rattle the entire surface. meanwhile luke is in the kitchen with han saying that he "absolutely baked this bread! i'm capable of it!"

han takes another slice and gives luke an incredulous look, eyebrow arched and overly bushy. "sure, kid."

"i did!

"this is best kirffing bread i've ever had. it tastes like the holy land and carbs had a baby. i don't even believe if there's a holy land, but dank farrik, this bread can take me there."

"han...it's just bread."

and just like that, luke discovers that he can bake like a man mad. whatever he envisions, he can make with ease. cookies, snickerdoodles, cupcakes, pastries. he can bake it without so much as reading the recipe twice and din is flabbergasted.

"how can...how do you do that?"

"do what, my love?"

din waves his hand in a blobby, misshapen circle with luke—and his disaster of a kitchen whipping up some sort of blue macaroon for grogu that din knows comes out perfect every single time—in its center.

luke chuckles and moves around the island to place a floury kiss to his cheek, smearing some left over batter into the scruff of his chin.

"call it a gift."

"is this some sort of...force thing?"

luke laughs again and din hopes he kisses him one last time bc he deserves it for bringing forth such a lovely sound.

"no, it's just a me thing."

din hums, still not 100% convinced it's not luke and his confusing, space wizard magic, offers to help. only, luke shoos him out of the kitchen, brandishing his batter ladened spoon, dripping sticky all over the floor din just cleaned that morning.

"absolutely not. the last time you helped me, you mistook the sugar for garlic powder. chewie threw up, my love. i've never seen chewie throw up.

"...that was one time."

luke pats his cheek with delicate fingers, and if din wasn't already leaning into his touch, he would've griped about the batter trickling down his jaw.

"one time too many. it's fine, i can handle myself in here. now, get going. go on, out of my kitchen."

luke hops up onto his toes to press a fleeting kiss to din's lips and—really, it should be criminal how easily luke can turn off din's brain with one simple touch bc he didn't even notice how he ended up in the living room with both grogu and the family loth-cat trying to lick the drying batter off his face.

[pissed-whizard]

Happy star wars day from me and my adopted sons

[dindjarindiaries]

The Mandalorian season 4 rumors will be going back-and-forth until we receive confirmation from Star Wars itself. It's best, then, to not get invested in any idea until they put out confirmation as to whether season 4 is happening or not.

[agentscamander-romanoff]

Almost all of Star Wars protagonist didn't have normal childhood and grew up earlier than they should have.

Anakin was a slave and later was brought up to the Jedi Order. He left his mother,even though he would prefer not to.

Ahsoka was fighting the whole WAR,when she was 14.

Ezra's parents were taken away from him and he had to live on the streets.

Din's parents were killed by droids'army.

Grogu had to witness Order 66.

Boba's father was killed in front of him and he started to work ,so that he would survive.

Rey was left on the desert planet,hoping that her parents would come back,working all day,so she wouldn't die from hunger.

Jyn witnessed her mother's death and then became a child soldier.

The only protagonist,who had quiet "normal' childhood were Kazuda,Luke and Leia,but Leia and Kaz were kids of senators and I think had a lot of pressure,because of it(Also Leia was kidnapped),so Luke was almost only one who had normal childhood(except Reeva incident)

All this protagonist were just kids with stolen childhood.

[achingly-shy]

What if you had to pick one star wars duo? 👀

stop this is too hard…….i was trying to think of a way to cheat your question and the only thing i’ve come up with is picking one ship duo (kanera) one master/padawan duo (kanan and ezra) and one sibling or familial duo (sabine and ezra) but even still that’s just me focusing on rebels and if i had to choose just one idk how i’d pick between kanera or kanan and ezra 😭

[the-obiwan-for-me]

If you’ve been following me at least since early March, you have had a front row seat to my descent (at first slow, and then a full tilt plummet) into DinBo madness. I didn’t plan on shipping these two idiots and I am not happy about it. But here I am, deep in the Pit. 

Like a lot of Mandalorian fans (and people who enjoy watching shows that make them irrationally angry), I had MANY issues with the last episode, least of which was a decent conclusion to Bo and Din’s new found friendship (whether you want to smash them together and make them kiss or not, we can all agree that these two are now besties for life, right?). So, I was possessed and wrote nearly 10,000 words trying to make something slightly better out of the trash we were given at the end. Including; copious amounts of Bo being sad about Satine AND saying her name, Bo owning up to Death Watch, Fenn Rau mentions and love, Bo knows Jedi, the Armorer isn’t a great person, actually, and SO MUCH MORE. 

Maybe now I have exorcised this demon and can get back to other things....

....or not.

[willowcrowned]

trying so hard not to be an unbearable cunt about this season of the mandalorian just because I thought tbobf was a massacre in the worst way. everybody say good luck willow on not being an unbearable cunt

[luthienne]

the whiplash pedro pascal must feel going from the last of us script i just know that when i wake up i’ve lost something… i’m failing in my sleep… that’s all i do, that’s all i’ve ever done to the s3 mandalorian script *watches a droid drop a bust onto another droid* now that’s using your head

[beheworthy]

Thor takes care of Gorr's daughter because Jane asked? Does he take care of her to get over Jane or does this situation have nothing to do with Jane?

Yes, Thor takes Gorr's daughter in because Jane asked. Jane is his whole entire reason to do this.

He's not trying to get over Jane. The lesson is to keep loving even after losing the person instead of shutting your heart to it.

-

However, I've reiterated time and again that this whole thing with the child was beyond lazy storytelling and a criminally manipulative and laughably pathetic attempt to cash in on the 'gruff hero with cute child' trope going on these days. For example, Pedro Pascal and Baby Grogu, Pedro Pascal and Ellie Williams, Chris Hemsworth in the Extraction series, Kratos and Atreus, Geralt and Ciri, and the attempts in recent Marvel content.

It fails on all accounts in Thor4 because it's not *picks up microphone* earned. We know nothing about this child. We don't see them interact, have friction, have resentment against one another (her father died because of him and his girlfriend died because of her - you already had the foundation you doofuses), and eventually make the choice of choosing one another. It just cuts to them being cute to manipulate the audience and I hate it with every fibre of my being.

Contrast this with Din thinking of Baby Grogu as an assignment and then making the choice to save him at the expense of his job and life. And Baby Grogu making the choice to heal Din when he saw him get hurt defending him, risking exposing himself as a Force-sensitive despite the horrors it has caused him.

This is engaging, impactful storytelling that has pathos and emotion attached to it. It makes us care about Din and Baby Grogu bonding and their cute moments together are earned. And the ending of Thor4 where Thor and Gorr's daughter (yes, she doesn't have a name) are bEiNg CuTe is the opposite of that.

-

So, it doesn't matter to me if this is for Jane or not. I refuse to accept it. I hope it gets retconned the way Thor's eye being gouged out was.

[kalevalakryze]

 nuhoyir

pairing: bo-katan kryze x the armorer

characters: bo-katan kryze, the armorer, din djarin, grogu, ragnar vizsla, axe woves (mentioned) , sabine wren (mentioned) , ahsoka tano (mentinoed)

warnings: none

notes: based off this post!

Ruling Mandalore was not an easy task for any one person, but… well, Bo could not deny the fresh air at the feeling of seeing all of the people together. Every building risen besides her fellow Mandalorian, Niteowl, Child of the Watch, Bounty Hunter, even those who’d had to remove their armor to survive, as they’d flocked back to their Home in the time it took to rebuild. There was no shortage of things to be done, for the Mand’alor, or The Armorer, who hadn’t once left her side. 

It was a new feeling, for sure, one that took a long time to get used to, but when she bounced ideas, plans, and even random nonsense off The Armorer, she was not ridiculed, she was not being suddenly impeached and thrown away like trash. Instead, The Armorer helped her see open gaps in her thinking, helped her understand how each decision would effect all points of view, instead of the ones she was used to worrying about. 

Even a year after retaking their home, things still weren’t perfect, to say. Mandalorians still fought, and she’d found herself pulled into her own brawl or two, but Skira, who’d finally stepped away from the helmet every now and then, had helped Bo see that there was a strength in walking away, that shed already proved herself, she didn’t need to keep doing so. 

Of course, both women found themselves in their old habits all too often. The habits they’d adapted to to survive were harder to drop than anything. When armor orders started rolling in, and she was still trying to train her apprentices, Skira often needed pulled away from the forge at night, needed help putting down the hammer and washing away the soot from the day. Bo managed to find other armorer’s, not nearly as skilled as Skira, but they’d known enough to keep their own armor maintained, had helped create their children’s armor from beskar alloys, and they were able to handle a large majority off training, until Skira’s schedule could open enough to move everyone a step forward. Even with her own adepts working on armor with her, she was only human, and Bo would still find her in the forge until late at night every couple of months. 

Bo’s survival adaptations had been mildly different. On the off chance that she could be found in her quarters, trying to sleep, she would be near fully armored. She avoided rest like a plague and chased more and more work until she couldn’t hold up to any promises she’d made. She’d be found trying to raise beams and supports, or weld brackets together, so the morning construction crews wouldn’t have to work so hard… The biggest issue had been her temper running shorter than ever the longer she’d deprived herself of sleep, until the smallest mistake in her midnight construction would have her shoving her foot into a beam until the wood would splinter and crack under the force, rendering a large material loss until Skira got a chance to step up. 

Even when she did manage to get Bo to rest, the Mand’alor would adamantly refuse to remove more than her helmet, jetpack, and knee joints, would sleep ready to activate her gauntlet’s blade or grapple, had buried the blade deep into her mattress on more than one occasion when a nightmare would have her tensing and striking out. It wasn’t until Bo-Katan had dropped in her storage room, had clawed at her armor and practically begged for help removing the chest plate, that Skira had decided the best way to help her Mand’alor.

Each night, Skira would pull Bo away from whatever activity she’d holed herself into, would make removing her armor a slow process each night, and would rub out the knots and stiffness in her muscles. It became a tradition of sorts, one both women would look forward to, where Bo would wipe away the mess of the forge from Skira’s skin, and Skira would help relieve the tension of carrying more than just Beskar on her shoulders.

For the last week, both women had been wrapped up in their respective habits, neither able to spare a moment to step away, not when Din was visiting to have Grogu’s first helmet fitted, and Bo-Katan had to handle her first debate with the New Republic over the Mandalore system’s control. 

When Din had landed that afternoon, it was to an all new Mandalore. They’d created a life on the surface to withstand the weather, and had also burrowed into the planet, had started to rebuild the old cities that few could remember from their lives before the purge. Grogu had been quick to run off and tag along with Ragnar, both Mandalorians more than excited to show off the skills they’d learned,

“Be at the forge in an hour, Grogu,” Din called to their retreating backs, a small smile on his lips as he headed to the forge himself, pausing at the sight of the great forge, relit and in full operation. Nearly a hundred hammers echoed a symphony as each worked on some project, but The Armorer’s helm was unmistakable. He’d made his footsteps known as he approached, though he’d made it all the way to her workbench before she’d even looked up. 

“Din Djarin,” She greeted, and eve the vocoder was dripping with exhaustion, causing the silver Mandalorians’ head to move off kilter to the side. “You have come for your apprentice’s armor,” Her gloved hands patted behind her, where half finished projects were waiting. 

“Armorer,” He started, because she was lifting and moving pieces in a cluttered workstation, something he’d never thought he’d see with her. “The kid can wait some time, gar shuk meh kyrayc.” 

The Armorer paused her search, staring at Din for a moment. He had been afraid he’d overstepped for a moment, before she’d exhaled and nodded her head. “This is the way,” Her heart wasn’t in it, he could tell, but she obviously needed rest, and what kind of person would he be if he didn’t state the obvious. He stayed with her as she cleaned her station in seemingly slow motion, stepping in every few moments to lend a hand with moving pieces and closing different mineral treatments. 

It wasn’t long before Grogu’s babbles reached his ears, and his head turned to watch as Bo-Katan entered the forge. She held Grogu on her hip, and was offering him a tired smile. The two were having some kind of a conversation, he never understood too much, even now, but it seemed like she was just content to have someone listen as she explained her stance on the New Republic’s patrol routes. 

“Lady Kryze,” The Armorer spoke first, as Grogu wiggled in Bo’s arms until she got close enough for him to jump the gap between his father and her, landing in Din’s arms with a self satisfied babble. 

“I assume you also were on the receiving end of the Clan of Two’s most polite ‘you look like bantha shit’ as well?” Bo spoke, her smile tugging at her lips as her hand moved to clap Din’s shoulder as he bowed his head, and rest her hand on Grogu’s head for a second. 

“It appears that way,” The Armorer deflated only slightly, before her head turned to Grogu. “I see you are learning well, Din Grogu,” Her words were met with another babble, and a satisfied smile on the apprentices mouth. “I am sure Ragnar will have no trouble finding both of you a place to stay, If you have the time, until I can properly finish the armor you’ve sent me the measurements for?” 

“Take your time,” Din confirmed as he shifted his son in his arms, his heavy sigh filling the air as Grogu started to pull on a loose leather tassel from his bandolier. “I may need to see how well your training grounds have come along,” And then he was dipping his head and stepping away once more, departing as the two leaders of Mandalore finally got a chance to look at each other for the first time the entire week.

“Busy week?” Bo questioned dryly as they both headed to the exit, side by side, hands brushing as they made their way to surface. 

“indeed, for you as well?” 

“I could sleep for the next fifty years,” Bo confirmed as they walked the familiar path to their home. A thin layer of dust had settled in their absence, but both women decided it would be an issue for a later them. 

As Bo ran a bath in their recently installed plumbing, Skira handled removing her own armor and setting it on the stand in their bedroom. By the time the condensation rose from the fresher door, The Armorer was already stepping in to start helping Bo, who’d been uselessly fumbling with the straps to her chest plate once more. 

They were silent as they both settled into the large tub, Skira settling between Bo’s legs, leaning back against her front as the redhead started the soothing process of helping her clean away a weeks worth of nasty work, fingers brushing her hair from its braid as carefully as she could. When she was clean, and she could feel Bo’s lips pressing into the back of her neck, more so out of finding a way to lean into her from behind, the shorter woman stood.

Bo had blinked tiredly up at her when she’d stepped out of the tub, but one glance had the woman scooting forward, water rippling and licking at the edges of the tub as Skira settled back in behind her. 

The only sound in their home were Bo’s quiet groans as Skira rubbed out each muscle, staying well until the water grew cold before either of them were close to willing to leave the calm sanctuary. It was when Bo’s head had dropped back against her shoulder that Skira finally made the executive decision to get them moving, unplugging the drain while Bo gathered the towels.

When they were dry, Skira was the first to settle into bed. They didn’t need to worry about finding room for Bo-Katan’s sewer drake, thanks to Axe petsitting when he’d noticed both women’s schedules growing busy (it helped that Ragnar loved the thing, too). Bo-Katan had been quick to shut the lights off and settle into the all too familiar position in Skira’s side, their legs tangling as a strong arm draped across Skira’s broad hips. Sleep came faster than ever for either woman that night, with Bo pressed close and her breath fanning against her neck, Skira was able to nod off in peace. 

Morning came almost too soon, though, Skira couldn’t be upset with the view. Bo’s hair was a sprawled haphazard mess against her chest, her nose crinkled just a bit, with her hands fisted comfortably into the blankets near her chin. A bird hooted at the bedroom window, though she could not say it was one she ever recognized. With squinted eyes, she tried to place the green feathering, but. Kept coming up blank. 

“Good morning,” Bo’s sleepy voice broke her peace. It was quiet, deep, and raspy, and combined with the woman pressing further into her chest, Skira couldn’t help but to comb her fingers through messy red hair, and press her lips to a forehead, textured with a battle scar, and the lines of spending too much time overstressed. “ ‘soka's bird,” Her Mand’alor grumbled into her skin, before pressing soft kisses against her shoulder and chest. “Mentioned visiting with ‘bine,” Bo continued sleepily, before her head settled back on Skira’s chest. “They’ll wake us up if they blow anything up, back to sleep,” 

And well, who was she to disobey a command from her Mand’alor? It wasn’t like she would ever be able to move to tear the woman off her chest, that would be a cruelty she could never wish on the woman whose story had once been one of warning, that she’d watched turn into one of redemption, and the story she wound up falling in love with. 

[duubaloo]

with the mandalorian season 3 coming close to start I'm wondering again if they'll mention luke and why he sent grogu back without a note or company or if Luke is just never going to me mentioned again

[riretrograde]

I'm doing great actually wdym. I'm fine 🥲

[hinderr]

are wren and burcyan technically queerbait

[itsjuststardust]

Heaven in Hiding - Chapter 6: The Hallucination

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Alaina wakes up in an unfamiliar place. Alone. Anything to not feel alone anymore.

Word Count: 12,041

Author Notes/Chapter Warnings: Chapter warnings for this chapter include mental/physical abuse/torture, and Alaina may lose her marbles a little bit. Enjoy 🩶 MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY

Chapter 6: The Hallucination

Alone.

She was always alone, even when she was with Pershing or any of the other Imperial lackeys. She wasn’t a person to them. She wasn’t Alaina, an accomplished dancer who loved to cook, surround herself with friends, and watch storms roll through from her bedroom window. She was just a thing they experimented on.

No one looked at her. No one spoke to her. She was treated as if she were invisible.

So, she’d learn to tolerate being alone over the last couple of years.

She preferred it when they were at the smaller compound in Nevarro City. The smaller space forced closer quarters, and there was not much room to spread out. There was always noise; whether it be the background noise of the city, the low hum of Pershing’s lab equipment, or the idle chit-chat of the troopers patrolling, there was always something going on.  The larger main lab out in the lava flats had more room to spread out, but even there, she was with other people or at least in the proximity of other people.

Whereas now… Now, locked in a dark cell, she was alone.

They called it solitary confinement—a form of punishment for not producing the results they were looking for.

They had moved out to the larger main lab in the lava flats for better equipment for the next set of trials Pershing had planned for her. This time, they had been working with her to try to get her to predict the future. The time before had been trying to get her to read someone’s mind. Unsurprisingly, she had failed again. Just like she failed the time before and would undoubtedly fail the next time. No matter how often she tried to remind Pershing that she was only able to move things, he still kept tinkering with her mind. 

After a full day of trials and testing that produced no response, Alaina prepared herself for the repercussions.

Previously, when she had not performed well, they resorted to forms of physical punishment, as if beating her, shocking her, or drowning her would somehow make her produce whatever result they were looking for. So, when she was escorted to a cell, she thought she had won a vacation when no fists, batons, or tubs of water were brought in when she failed. Alaina didn’t know what she had done to win herself the reprieve from violence—maybe Pershing finally realized it wasn’t going to do anything—maybe they didn’t have enough help to monitor her. Either way, she was thankful for the change.

In her tiny, dark cell, time was difficult to tell. Based on the intervals they brought a single tray with a ration pack and a canteen of water, she figured out that they were only bringing her meals once a day. Usually, they made sure that she was given a minimum of two meager meals a day, so she suspected they were changing their tactics of brutality, switching gears completely to starving her. It wasn’t until the third day that she realized they weren’t trying to break her by starving her. After the third tray was pushed under a small opening on the floor and scooted in, she realized Pershing was intentionally isolating her. 

Three days was all it took for Alaina to break down in tears. No light, no sounds, just one meal a day and a bucket in the corner were enough to start to drive her mad. She realized that this new punishment was a special kind of hell for her, and Penn Pershing fucking knew it. 

Pershing had loathed the fact that Alaina was a social butterfly when they were friends. He despised the dinner parties with her friends she forced him to attend. He always sat in the back of the auditorium, away from others, when he came to her dance recitals. The fact that she went out dancing with friends after her performances was a complete mystery to him, and that was a line he never crossed. 

After her mother died, he’d instinctively known she couldn’t be alone and lived with her for the better part of a week. After her mother’s funeral, she couldn’t bear to live in the home she had grown up in, surrounded by the ghosts of happy memories—he brought her to live with him until she got her feet under her. They had lived together for a few months before Alaina finally started feeling more like herself and had even begun dancing with a new company. Pershing had wanted her to sell her childhood home and stay with him permanently, but she eventually ended up moving back in, unable to completely let go just yet. 

He knew she always surrounded herself with others, and now he’d taken that away from her. If Alaina had any lingering doubts that there was still a shred of decency left in her former best friend, they were completely banished after being locked away for the last three days.

So, it took Alaina three days to break down, five to start hearing things, and six or seven to accept that she was having full-on hallucinations.

It started with whispers in the darkened corners of her cell. At first, she was nervous when she heard the voices. She was convinced she was hearing others talk outside of her cell door, but then the whispers turned into her mother's voice, and Alaina didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified. 

She tried to imagine her mother sitting with her, giving her words of strength, and wrapping her up into a warm, tight embrace… but her imagination wasn’t that good. Alaina tried hugging herself and telling herself it was her mother, but she apparently hadn’t gone that insane yet because she couldn’t quite trick herself into believing that.

Sitting on the cold floor with her head resting back against the wall, Alaina tried even to remember what it was like to be held by someone. She’d been in the Empire’s custody for almost two years now, and Pershing was smart enough to know he had destroyed any chance of Alaina accepting any form of comfort from him.

Her eyelids fluttered closed when she realized who the last person to comfort her was.

The Mandalorian.

He had held her after her embarrassing attempt to seduce him before trying to throw herself in the carbonite chamber. She could vividly recall sitting on the cold floor of the hold of his ship, with nothing but his cloak wrapped around her, while she cried huge, fat tears when she realized that her bounty hunter was going to follow through on his job and turn her into Penn Pershing.

New, fresh tears started forming in her eyes. Even two years later, she could still feel his bare hands on her skin and the way his armor was firm and supportive as he held her in the hold of his ship… That was the last time anyone had hugged her.

She hated that he was the last person to comfort her and the last person to likely ever comfort her.

And then, as if the Mandalorian had heard her thinking about him, he was suddenly there in the room, sitting next to her.

She could clearly see him as if moonlight were shining in from some window that she knew wasn’t there. The soft, imaginary light shone off the Mandalorian’s silver helmet and highlighted the scuffs and scratches on the rest of his brown armor.

Now, Alaina knew she was really going insane if she could actually see the Mandalorian in the room with her. Why couldn’t it be her mom? She would even take one of her dance friends, or some random person she’d only met once, or quite literally anyone else in the galaxy who wasn’t the man responsible for her current situation.

Naturally, the bounty hunter remained quiet as he sat next to her. Alaina wanted to ignore him. Alaina tried to pretend he wasn’t there, but he never left her side—not when she growled at him or screamed at him to leave her alone… The Mandalorian just stayed there next to her, holding his hand out for her to take. 

It wasn’t until day nine that she could actually feel him. 

Her shoulder brushed against his pauldron, and she realized that she could actually feel her hallucination sitting next to her.

He never spoke. He never moved. He just sat there, holding his hand out for her to take.

On the tenth day, she looked at him and said, “I still hate you, you know?”

The Mandalorian just tilted his helmet curiously at her and inched his hand closer for her to take. She grabbed his hand and refused to let him go.

It was just her and her hallucination against the world—against the world or whatever was left of her mind, because she could feel whatever was left starting to slip away. As if sensing her downward-spiraling thoughts, the man sitting next to her in her cell squeezed her hand tightly in his glove. 

He was an anchor for her distraught mind, something to tether her sanity so she wouldn’t drift away. He was a life preserver thrown to sea to keep her from drowning in her thoughts and pain. 

A chuckle escaped Alaina at the concept that her mind had chosen him. Out of all the people who genuinely cared for her over the course of her life, her mind picked the Mandalorian. The chuckle continued to roll out of her mouth, slowly building steam until she was cackling maniacally, like a true woman who had lost her mind.

She may have lost her mind, but at least she wasn’t alone anymore.

Anything to not feel alone anymore.

Alaina’s eyes shot wide as the feeling of the Mandalorian’s rough, leather gloves gripped her hand back, pulling her back to reality.

Her chest heaved, and she began to frantically look around her, terrified that the last few days were all some kind of dream and she had never left that cell on Nevarro.

Her panic only intensified when nothing around her was familiar. From her position lying on her back, confusion and fear gripped her while she tried to process her surroundings.

This wasn’t a lab, Nevarro, or the Mandalorian’s ship. She was in a completely unrecognizable location. It was primitive looking, nothing like what the Empire preferred, which was a small relief but not big enough to quell her fear completely. 

Other than the obvious mystery location, the next thing she noticed was what she was wearing. She was no longer wearing the new clothes that the Mandalorian had bought for her and had been changed into an overly large long-sleeved shirt or gown of some kind. From what she could tell, it was thin and worn from use and had a distinctive, familiar smell she couldn’t quite place.

Alaina tried to calm her racing heart as she started to look around to figure out where she was. Despite the bright light from the moon and stars shining through the slats in the planks of wood that made the walls, it was difficult to see much in her surroundings, but this couldn’t be more than a small shack made of sticks.

She was lying in a bed, and she could see the shadow outlines of the walls, some furniture, and the door on the wall opposite her.

The most obvious glaring fact was that, once again, she was alone.

She quietly sat up to try to figure out where she was in the dark and quiet room at night. Alaina tried not to cry and the unfamiliar, unknown, new circumstances she’d found herself in. Was she a prisoner? Was she a patient? Or was this some kind of holding room? A place to keep her until she could be turned back over to the Empire?

She took a deep breath through her nose to try and keep it together. Dwelling on all of the terrifying options wouldn’t do her any good. She needed to calm down and focus to at least figure out where she was and what had happened to her. If she could remember what happened, then she could figure out where she was and come up with a plan to escape. 

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done. Her head hurt and throbbed in a pain that radiated down her spine. She tried to push through the pain, but her mind was a thick fog that made it difficult to remember the events that led to her waking up in a shack by herself.

She had been with Mando and Grogu. They had landed somewhere… Sorgan, she remembered, trying to spy through the cracks of wood at the land around the hut for more answers. She’d been with Mando and Grogu at a cantina. She’d had something to drink… and the rest… the rest was buried in a haze of pain.

Alaina used her hands to feel around the bed and the wall closest to her in her search for clues. She frowned when she realized her right arm was no longer bound in a sling. She poked at her shoulder and found it didn’t hurt to touch or move around. In fact, it felt completely normal. How much time had passed since she was at the settlement with Mando? Where was she now, and what had happened to her? 

How long had she been alone?

How long had it taken the Mandalorian to decide she was no longer worth the effort? How long had it taken him to leave her with the first settlement they’d come across and abandon her here?

Even in her darkest hours at the hands of the Empire, her mind would always conjure him when she needed someone. Her mind always gave her the Mandalorian when she needed someone. He always appeared when she couldn’t stand being alone. He was always there when she needed someone to hold her hand.

Not that she would ever tell him that.

Still, the fact that the real Mandalorian was not as strong as the hallucination that had haunted her for so long was an unexpected punch to her gut that made tears spill down her cheeks.

Alaina twisted her body to bring her feet over the edge of the bed and plant them on the cool, metal floor—

Alaina’s eyebrows furrowed. What kind of primitive wooden shack had a metal floor?

The ‘floor’ moved under her feet and the familiar feel of a leather glove wrapped around her calf. She froze at the relaxed hand gripping her calf. 

“Alaina?” came Mando’s voice, a little disoriented and slow as if he’d been asleep.

Alaina’s hands came up to cover her face when it crumpled at the sound of his voice. Her hallucination never spoke… Was it really the Mandalorian? Or was it her hallucination coming to keep her distraught mind company?

Alaina lowered her hands from her face and slowly leaned over the bed to confirm that he was actually here and that he wasn’t her hallucination from times past. She had to blink to make sure that she was really seeing him, but sure enough, a full chest of silver armor covered him instead of the dulled, rusted armor of her imaginary Mandalorian.

Her heart clenched again, but this time, it clenched in joy at the fact that she hadn’t been left behind. She wasn’t alone. He hadn’t left her. Instead, he had slept on the floor at her bedside while she’d slept.

Alaina collapsed to the floor in relief. She landed directly on Mando’s chest, clearly startling the man, judging by the whoosh of air leaving his chest when she landed on top of him. Alaina didn’t care; she just wrapped her arms around his neck and her smaller body sprawled over his, like a scared child waking up from a bad nightmare. Any dream that involved being alone in that cell was a nightmare; she’d just never had anyone to seek out after one before. Of course, the Mandalorian was quite possibly the last person she ever imagined receiving comfort from… well, again. Here she was, though, crying into the man’s chest again.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he whispered under her, bringing a tentative hand up to rub her upper arms.

All Alaina could do was nod into his chest, not quite trusting herself to speak yet. Mando seemed to understand, and he let her sprawl on top of him while his gloved hands continued to soothingly rub her arms.

“You’re okay,” he whispered again in the dark room. “Did you have another nightmare?”

Alaina just nodded. It was rare not to have a nightmare when she finally let herself sleep. Also, she wasn’t sure how to explain to the Mandalorian that she used to have visions of him whenever she was thrown into solitary confinement. 

When Alaina remained silent, Mando continued speaking in hushed words. “How do you feel?” he asked. His hands stopped their soothing up and down motions but rested on her biceps.

“My shoulder is better,” she murmured.

“Good,” he nodded, giving her shoulders a gentle squeeze. “The healers have been putting a salve on it to help with the inflammation, which helped the swelling reduce over the last three days—”

Her head shot up to look at his helmet at his words. “Three days?” Alaina questioned, surprised that she had been out of it for so long.

Mando nodded again.

Three days?

A soft snore from her right caught her attention, and Alaina could just make out a crib off to the side, where she could barely make out the shadow of Grogu’s ear in the dark. 

Three days, and they hadn’t left her side.

“Wait,” Alaina started, frowning as she turned to look back at Mando’s helmet, “have you been sleeping on the floor for three days?”

Mando shrugged, “I wanted to be nearby in case something happened.” Alaina smiled at his words of kindness. “I knew you would probably be scared when you woke up, and I didn’t want you to wake up and think we left you alone—oof,” Mando rushed out as Alaina all but collapsed back on top of him again.

Alaina continued to smile into his neck for another moment before she recognized the familiar smell of the clothes she had been changed into.

It was the smell of Mando. It was the smell of gunmetal and leather, the tangy scent of something she suspected was used to polish his armor and the deep, woodsy musk of the man lying under her. The man who she was hugging. The man who must be uncomfortable after sleeping on the floor for the last three days because of her. It was the smell of the man who had turned her over to Pershing and the Empire.

She squeezed her eyes closed at that last thought. The man’s confusing contradictions in actions were a mystery to her, and the more she attempted to decipher Mando’s actions, the more her already painful head throbbed.

What had changed in the Mandalorian? Why now? Why come back for her and Grogu?

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and pressed her face into the rough fabric of the cowl covering Mando’s neck. “I know that what I’m about to say is conflicting with my actions at this very moment, but just so we’re clear, I still haven’t forgiven you,” she mumbled into his neck and smiled when she thought she felt his chest rumble with the smallest chuckle under his armor.

“Noted,” came the whispered response. His voice was light when he spoke, maybe even slightly teasing, making Alaina smile into his cowl.

She quickly disentangled her limbs from the Mandalorian with mumbled words of apology and moved to stand up. Mando rose with her, and Alaina could hear the groan and cracks of his joints as he stood up.

“Sleeping on the floor,” she chided, shaking her head.

“I’ve slept in worse places,” he countered, making her roll her eyes. “What do you remember?” Mando asked her while he tried to discretely stretch out his sore limbs.

Alaina frowned, looking at the armored man, and had no doubt that with a bounty hunter’s lifestyle, he was telling the truth. She looked guilty back at the bed she had slept in the last three days while Mando had slept on the floor during her recovery from… whatever happened to her. “Take the bed,” Alaina sighed, pointing at the bed next to them. 

Mando shook his head, “It’s fine, really—”

“Mando, you’ve been sleeping on the floor for three days for me. You came back and saved me from the Empire when you didn’t have to. You stayed behind here for me when you could have just left me behind. Not to mention, I just heard at least half of your bones creak. Can you just take the bed?” 

Mando stayed frozen where he stood, and Alaina sighed again at the man’s stubbornness. 

“Are you always this stubborn?” she asked him with a small smile on her face, but the man only shrugged back at her. “Okay, come on,” Alaina encouraged him, moving to get on the bed herself. The bed was no more than a cot, clearly only made for one person. She sat on the end where her head had been. She leaned her back into the wall and stretched her legs out over the side, but only her feet managed to make it over the edge. “Come on,” she encouraged the Mandalorian, patting the spot next to her on the bed.

Mando shifted nervously in front of her, but Alaina just gave him a look. “You act like you’ve never shared a bed with a woman before,” she teased, trying to give him a knowing smirk.

Surprisingly, the man before her only shifted more nervously.

Oh.

Oh.

Well, not like she had much room to talk on that front, but she had just assumed that someone like Mando would be very experienced. Especially after how he handled her all those years ago… well, that was neither here nor there.

“Mando,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’m kidding. Now, come on. We’re just sitting next to each other in bed,” she smiled warmly, patting the space next to her again. “Besides, if you go back to sleeping on the floor, then I’m going to sleep on the floor, and then we’ll both be uncomfortable.”

With a sigh, Mando shifted around and eventually moved to sit beside her on the bed. His larger frame took up most of the other end of the small bed, mimicking her position; only his legs could easily dangle over the edge of the bed.

The two sat in awkward silence on the bed, and Alaina toyed with the hem of the sleeves of the old shirt she figured out was Mando’s in an attempt not to say anything to make the situation any more awkward than it needed to be. Hopefully, Mando would drift off, and she could slip out of the bed once he was asleep so he could have the whole thing to himself.

“What do you remember?” Mando asked again, his quiet words catching her off guard.

“I—I’m not sure. I remember landing here. I remember hiking through the woods. I remember making it to the settlement and drinking spotchka… After that, things get a little hazy,” she finished, staring at him curiously. “My head hurts like the worst hangover in the world. Is spotchka that strong?”

“No,” came the simple monotone answer. The deep sound of his baritone voice sent a shiver up her spine.

“What happened?” Alaina asked him to fill in the blanks in her memory.

Mando sighed. “I don’t know what to call it,” he answered, sounding defeated. “You were drunk, but you—you had a fit of some kind.”

Alaina’s eyes went wide at his description. “A fit?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know what else to call it. One moment, you were walking with us. The next, you ran off, clutching your head in pain. When I made it over to you, you were in some kind of… thrall. It’s like you were there, but you weren’t. And you said something—”

“What did I say?” Alaina interrupted, her heart rate spiking at Mando’s descriptions.

He tilted his helmet curiously at her, “Have you done something like that before?”

“Mando, what did I say?” she pressed him, keeping her tone firm without trying to panic.

“You said someone was coming. You said, "he’s coming to take the sunlight away and rip it apart limb by limb."”

Alaina frowned and wracked her brain but couldn’t recall any of that. Unfortunately, that was not entirely an uncommon side effect after having her visions. She had her first one after her first very first vision of the Mandalorian in that cell. She wouldn’t have even believed Pershing had he not been secretly filming her during her time in solitary confinement. She had watched herself on the tiny monitor that replayed her last few minutes locked away in that cell the first time.

The night vision cameras had caught everything leading up to the vision: her sitting and holding hands with nothing, her telling that same nothing, “I still hate you, you know.” After that, she had the unfortunate pleasure of watching herself cackle hysterically… and then she went disturbingly silent, and something happened that Alaina didn’t remember. She watched, confused, as she screamed and gripped her head in agony, and her body rocked back and forth. That was the moment the lights flicked on, and Pershing came running into her cell. After Pershing fell to his knees in front of her, another man wearing black boots and pants could be seen entering her cell. Alaina’s upper body shot up and went rigid as she stared at the two men in front of her.

She would always remember the haunting way her own voice sounded to her own ears as she listened to the incoherent words leave her mouth.

She looked directly at Pershing and said, “The sun and the moon are in orbit.” Pershing’s eyes looked terrified as he looked at her and then back at his boss, who was grinning down at her with a dark smile. “The sun will bury you in shadows,” she had said to Pershing, and then her head turned slowly to turn her vacant look on the Moff towering over their kneeling forms. “You can’t use the moon to harness the sun,” she told the Moff, whose smile faltered slightly at her words. “You will try, but the moon will burn you alive.”

“You’ve done something like that before, haven’t you?” Mando whispered, and all Alaina could do was nod. “Back at their compound, you did something similar my first time there,” he continued quietly. “You told me I was "drowning in seas of green."” Mando paused, and Alaina had to look away from his scrutinizing gaze.

“What did they do to you, Alaina?”

The truth was, Alaina wasn’t sure. Pershing had been convinced she was having premonitions of some kind. Alaina could rarely remember them. Sometimes, they were coherent and short, so those were usually the ones she remembered at least decent chunks of.

Apparently, Mando picked up on her confusion and started describing her other symptoms, likely thinking that would help her. “Your nose was bleeding, and you were running a fever,” Mando started to explain what must have happened after her ‘fit.’ “You didn’t do that on Nevarro,” he pointed out. “What was the difference?”

Alaina shrugged, “I don’t know. When they forced me to look into someone, the fits, as you called them, were smaller, like back at the compound. Usually, mild symptoms like a little disorientation. It’s when they come to me without trying that I have worse symptoms. They could range from nose bleeds and fevers like you mentioned to seizures and anything in between,” she replied. “I would only lose consciousness after the ones that come to me without trying, but I’ve never been out of it for three days before. You mentioned healers… How did we get… wherever we are?” she asked, finally turning her head back to look at him again.

“I ran back to the Crest and was going to go find someone who could help, but some villagers approached the ship. They had asked for help. At first, I told them to get lost. One of them saw you unconscious and bleeding on the floor and offered their village’s healers and a place to stay in exchange for my help. I didn’t know what else to do, so I went with them. The healers went to work on you immediately. Their work was… primitive, but it was doing the job. Your nose stopped bleeding by the time we made it to the village, and they got your fever to break after a day. After it seemed that the worst had passed, they worked on your shoulder. They kept your shoulder covered in some kind of salve and said you just needed rest.”

Alaina’s frown deepened. She couldn’t ever recall being out of it for three days before after a vision or fit or whatever you called them.

“Alaina—”

“Can we talk about it in the morning?” Alaina whispered, pulling her legs up until her knees came up to rest under her chin. “I just need to think.”

Mando stared at her for a beat but eventually nodded his head. She could feel him shift around on the bed, making himself comfortable by resting his back against the wall behind him and crossing his arms over his chest.

“What did you have to help the villagers with in exchange for their healers’ help?”

Mando tilted his helmet back to rest on the wall, “Can we talk about it in the morning?” 

Alaina turned her head so that her cheek rested on her knees so she could look at Mando. She would have given him a harder time, but he genuinely sounded exhausted. The man had been sleeping on the floor for the last three days; the least she could do was let him rest.

He looked so uncomfortable dressed in head-to-toe armor. To think that he’d been sleeping on the floor for three days while completely dressed for battle… It made Alaina uncomfortable just looking at him. “You could make yourself a little more comfortable,” Alaina suggested quietly. 

“I’m fine,” came his gruff reply.

“At least take your helmet off.”

“I can’t.”

Alaina frowned, not expecting that answer, “Can’t?”

There was a pause before the helmet in question turned to look at her. “I’m Mandalorian,” he said as if that alone answered her questions, but Alaina just blinked owlishly at him to explain it to her.

“I’m Mandalorian,” he began again. “I swore the creed. I am unable to remove it in front of another living person,” came his surprising revelation.

Things suddenly make so much sense.

It answered why she never saw his face, even before—why she never saw him eat or drink, even with her and the kid—why she never saw him casually walking around in his own ship without his armor on.

“Like, ever?” Alaina asked curiously.

Mando shook his head, “This is the way.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying?”

Mando shrugged, “I took the creed when I was a child. It’s been that way ever since. My armor is a part of me.”

Alaina mulled that over while her eyes flicked over the armored man next to her. She couldn’t imagine wearing all armor all the time, being weighed down all the time, not being able to touch someone skin to skin, not having that kind of connection with someone…

It was the complete opposite of how she was raised. And as a dancer, being able to touch, feel, and express emotions… well, that was literally her job.

Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it was comfortable silence—not one filled with fear or anger, just the comfortable quiet of, dare she think it, friends. 

Alaina smirked. “I guess that does make it difficult to share a bed with a woman—or a man,” she added quickly. “No judgment.”

A small snort escaped from under the man’s helmet, and he situated himself one last time against the wall. “Go to sleep, Alaina.” His words were tired, but she could hear the undercurrent of amusement in them.

Alaina's smirk turned into a full grin. “I was asleep for three days,” she argued, but the yawn that snuck up on her gave away her exhaustion. Mando’s helmet turned to give her a pointed look at her yawn, and she just shrugged. “Mando?”

“Mmm?”

“Thank you for not leaving me alone,” she whispered sleepily.

The world returned to her slowly the next time she woke.

It was a pleasant blur of muted colors from the morning sun and the sounds of birds chirping outside the wooden walls. Alaina honestly couldn’t recall the last time she’d woken up so peacefully. A yawn escaped Alaina as she tried to stretch out of the ball she had curled herself into, but her feet were stopped from extending by something. That something grunted next to her, and her head turned quickly at the unfamiliar sound.

Alaina relaxed at the site of the Mandalorian, who was sleeping next to her. He was still seated upright, but his head had drooped forward, and his arms had fallen to his sides at some point during the night. She just knew he was going to wake up stiff if he’d been in that position for any considerable period of time. Alaina continued to study the Mandalorian, watching the deep, rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and just how relaxed he looked when he was sleeping (even if the position itself appeared uncomfortable). Part of her was tempted to wake him to relieve him from that position, but then she remembered how he told her that he’d been sleeping on the floor for three days and how exhausted he sounded last night and decided that it was better to leave the sleeping beast be.

A quiet coo drew her attention away from the Mandalorian, and Alaina smiled when she saw Grogu standing in the crib he had slept in, his eyes and ears just peaking over the edge of the wood-weaved crib.

Slowly, so as not to wake Mando, Alaina eased herself out of bed.

“Hey there, little one,” she whispered as she made her way to the child. Grogu motioned to be picked up, and she obliged him, pulling him tightly to her chest. “And just what have you gotten yourself into the last three days?”

His little three-fingered clawed hand reached for her head, and Alaina bent her neck so that her forehead could brush his like they had done back on Mando’s ship. Like the time before, she was greeted with a series of images.

It started with the cart ride they took from Mando’s ship to the village. From the kid’s point of view, he must have been seated on Mando’s outstretched legs, looking back at his savior. Mando had Alaina in his lap, cradling her unconscious body to his chest. Alaina could see blood from her nose streaked and smeared across her cheek and shirt. The next image was Grogu playing with other children; a girl with tanned skin and dark hair made frequent appearances. An image of him catching and eating a frog. Lastly, there was an image of Grogu sitting next to her still unconscious form. His small hand kept patting Alaina’s arm and looking at Mando; confusion was etched across Grogu’s face when Alaina wouldn’t wake up. This time, Alaina appeared to have been changed out of her original clothes and into Mando’s tunic, and her face had been cleaned, so you couldn't tell she had been bleeding from her nose. The kid studied the armored man while Mando dabbed at her forehead with a wet rag before grabbing the kid and settling down on the floor in his lap while he sat next to her bed.

Alaina blinked and was back in the unfamiliar wooden shack with Grogu.

She looked back at the Mandalorian, who still appeared to be asleep, slouched over on the bed where she had left him. 

With a sigh, she turned to look back at Grogu and gave him a pointed look, “Why do I get the feeling you’re intentionally showing me Mando’s softer side?” Grogu just continued to smile at her. “You know, you and I are the ones with the powers. You’re supposed to be on my side.” That suggestion earned her a spitting noise from the green child in her lap. “Fine, if you’re gonna pick his side, then we’re gonna have to have a little talk about your affinity for eating gross things,” she countered, lifting a challenging eyebrow at the kid.

Grogu gave a sweet giggle that Alaina interpreted as ‘nice try.’

A soft knock at the door pulled her attention away from the kid, and Alaina’s chest constricted in panic. She had no idea where they were or what the people here were like. Not to mention, she was not dressed to meet anyone, wearing Mando’s old long-sleeved tunic and nothing else. At least the shirt completely dwarfed her—its long sleeves would easily go several inches passed her hands if she dropped them, and the bottom hem hit her at mid-thigh. She was nowhere near exposed, but she would much rather greet whatever new front was about to welcome her fully dressed.

Her mouth was open to call for Mando, but she couldn’t make the words come out.

Suddenly, the man was just there, as if he had materialized from thin air, standing protectively in front of her and Grogu with his blaster in his hand.

Maker, the man could be silent when he wanted to be. She remembered the time from five years ago when he had snuck up behind her in the hold of his ship, and she found herself once again thinking that she needed to get the Mandalorian a bell of some kind.

Another knock came, but this time, it was followed by a woman’s voice. “Hello? It’s Omera. It’s getting a little late in the morning, and I just wanted to check on you to make sure everything is okay. I brought breakfast,” the woman’s voice, Omera, said from the outside. She spoke loud enough for them to hear her but still tried to be quiet so as not to disturb them if they were sleeping.

Mando seemed to relax at the sound of her voice and holstered his gun. “It’s okay,” he told her with a nod. “Omera has been helping with the healers and helping take care of the kid while you’ve been out of it,” he explained.

Alaina nodded but couldn’t help worrying her bottom lip. Mando stepped toward the door, and she took another step back with Grogu, just in case.

“Good morning,” the woman greeted.

Alaina studied her as she made her way in. She was beautiful, tall, with long dark hair and lightly tanned skin. Her eyes shone with a kindness that matched her voice. The woman, Omera, entered the small shed with a tray of food and a bright smile for Mando before she turned and saw Alaina standing there with Grogu. The woman’s smile faltered briefly, and she was apparently surprised to see Alaina awake and standing, but she caught herself quickly, and her smile softened.

“Alaina,” she greeted, setting the tray down on the small table in the room. “It is good to see you finally up. My name is Omera.”

“Hi,” Alaina greeted quietly, not making a move to come any closer.

A young girl came running into their shack, and Alaina instantly recognized her from Grogu’s vision. Looking at her now, standing next to Omera, there was no doubt whose daughter she was.

“This is my daughter, Winta,” Omera introduced, confirming Alaina’s hunch.

Alaina smiled at the girl in greeting. Grogu’s ears perked up at Winta, and he squirmed to get out of her arms, babbling with nonsensical noises of excitement as Alaina placed him on the floor.

“Can Grogu come play?” the girl excitedly asked Mando. She looked back to her mother before turning her huge puppy-dog eyes on the Mandalorian towering over her, clearly unconcerned by just how dangerous the bounty hunter standing in the room with them was.

Mando nodded, and the girl and Grogu clapped their hands excitedly. Alaina felt her smile grow, and she lifted an eyebrow at Mando, filing away the fact that the man was a complete pushover when kids were apparently concerned.

“Maybe stop by the hall first for some breakfast,” Omera suggested, but the kids were already on their way out the door.

Omera shook her head but grinned after the children and then turned to look back at her. Alaina shifted, feeling awkward standing in front of this beautiful woman wearing nothing but Mando’s oversized shirt, and now she didn’t even have Grogu to hold.

“Now that you’re up, I thought you would like to go to the bathhouse to get cleaned up. If your shoulder is still hurting, I could help you wash your hair?” the woman offered with a warm smile.

Alaina shifted again, and her eyes slid to look at Mando. He gave her the smallest tilt of his helmet as if he wasn’t sure what her dilemma was. Alaina frowned, and her eyes moved back to the new woman who was patiently waiting for her answer. She didn’t need Mando’s permission… but she had been sleeping for the last three days. She didn’t know this woman… Although… Mando clearly trusted her and the village enough to let Grogu go out unsupervised… “That-that would be nice, thank you,” Alaina finally agreed, giving Omera a tight smile.

Omera nodded, “I’ve cleaned your clothes, so you’ll have something fresh to change into. Several others in the village have donated some old dresses for you if you wish. Everyone is very excited for your Mandalorian to help us. They wanted to do whatever they could to show their appreciation,” she explained, looking back at Mando with a wide smile.

Alaina’s eyes slid to Mando, who gave her a subtle nod of encouragement. Was her nervousness over their new situation that obvious? “That sounds fine. Thank you, Omera,” she agreed, hoping she sounded braver than she felt.

“I need a little bit to catch Alaina up, and she needs to eat something,” Mando chimed in. “When we’re done, I will walk her to the bathhouse on my way out with Dune to start tracking your problem,” he finished as a passive dismissal for Omera.

Omera smiled and nodded, “I’ll see you soon,” she agreed before exiting.

Once Omera was gone and Alaina was alone with Mando again, she instantly relaxed, earning her a curious head tilt from Mando.

“What? Strangers make me nervous,” she defended. “Usually, when I meet them, they are more interested in what is going on up here,” she paused to tap her temple, “than who I am.”

“But I don’t make you nervous?”

Alaina rolled her eyes but smirked at him. “I said strangers, Mando. We’re not strangers. We’ve known each other for years,” she reminded him, exaggerating the word years out.

Mando shook his head, and Alaina was fairly certain she could hear him roll his eyes at her from under his helmet. He pointed to the table in the middle of the room where Omera had left the tray of food and moved to sit in one of the chairs himself.

“What is going on?” Alaina asked, giving Mando a skeptical look as she took a seat across from him. “What problem did you agree to take care of for the village? And did you say Dune? Like Cara? Is she here, too?” Alaina had more questions for the man, but her eyes landed on the tray of food sitting in the middle of the table, and became distracted by the spread. It was simple. Toasted homemade bread, fruit jam, and a plate of some kind of meat that had her mouth watering from the delicious smell.

“Eat,” Mando encouraged, snapping her attention away from the food. “You're practically drooling.”

Alaina frowned, “But what about you?” She tapped on her head to silently ask about his helmet.

“I can eat later—”

“But—”

“But you haven’t eaten in three days,” he said, interrupting her argument. Alaina’s stomach growled, further proving his point, and Mando tilted his helmet at her.

She snatched a piece of toast from the plate and spread some of the jam onto it before taking her first bite. The first bite was sweet, and she wanted nothing more than to savor it for as long as possible.

However, it was a bit difficult to savor it when Mando was staring her down and tapping an impatient finger on the table. 

“What?” she asked, swallowing down her first bite of food.

He didn’t answer her immediately, likely picking his words carefully.

“We need to talk about what happened,” he eventually responded.

Alaina frowned and took another bite of her toast to avoid answering him immediately. She knew he wanted to discuss her fit, but there wasn’t much to discuss. She saw things sometimes whether she wanted to or not. Most of the time, she didn’t understand the things she saw—

“Alaina,” Mando started again, interrupting her thoughts, “I need to know what I’m dealing with—”

“I'm sorry," Alaina interrupted with a snort. "What you’re dealing with?”

He sighed and splayed his hand on top of the table while he attempted to gather his thoughts again. Alaina was in no rush and took another bite of her toast.

“I know that I haven’t given you any reason to trust me. I—I want to help you,” he started again slowly. “But I can’t do that if you don’t let me.” 

Alaina narrowed her eyes at the man sitting across the table from her, “Why?”

“Why what?”

Alaina rolled her eyes and leaned across the table to stare the silver helmet down. “Why do you want to help me?” she began, but once the question was out, it was like she couple stop, and more and more questions kept tumbling from her mouth. “Why do you want to help me? Why now? Why not five years ago? Why couldn’t you just have listened to me then? What’s changed in the last five years that would make you more inclined to hear me out now when you didn’t then? And tell me, Mandalorian, why should I trust you now?”

Silence stretched between them as they stared at each other. Alaina didn’t move, though. She didn’t flinch when the tense silence between them became bordering awkward.

“You were the bounty,” came his quiet response. Fire boiled in her veins at his words, and she clenched her teeth to keep from lashing out at the man. “I hadn’t had a reason to second-guess a puck before you. I questioned them all after.”

Alaina blinked in surprise at his admission. “Yeah? How many ended up not deserving of their sentence?”

“None,” he replied flatly. “Just you.” Alaina’s shoulders sagged at his answer. “Alaina, I take responsibility for the past. I’m responsible for everything that has happened to you over the last five years. I can’t change the past. I know my word means nothing to you, but I want to help you.”

Alaina closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she leaned back in her chair.

Oh, she was going to regret this, she thought as she slowly released her breath.

It wasn’t his word that was in question. He was, if nothing else, a man of his word. Not easily swayed, not even by twenty-two-year-old ballerinas crying in their arms.

“Okay,” she agreed, nodding to Mando. There was the slightest hitch to Mando’s helmet. It was as if he really was a droid, and he couldn’t understand what she had just said and glitched. “Just one question for now, though. There’s too much to go over in a morning, and we have places to be.”

“Can I ask another one tonight?”

Alaina was already going to offer that, but she took her time mulling over her answer just to make Mando sweat it out. “Okay,” she eventually shrugged, popping her last bite of toast into her mouth and getting up from the table.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I’m going to go wait outside for you so you can eat.”

“But I didn’t get to ask my question.”

“Yes, you did." Alaina blinked at him, staring at him as if he had gone mad. "You asked if you could ask me another one tonight, and I agreed," she smirked.

“Wait, that wasn’t what my question was going to be!”

Alaina shrugged her shoulders as she grabbed her cloak hanging by the door. “You should have been clearer about the rules of your game then,” she finished, tossing him a wink before she stepped out into the bright morning sunlight, leaving a very confused Mandalorian behind.

Alaina sagged further into the tub until all of her, even her head, was submerged in the warm water, and her hair floated around her.

She’d all but forgotten what a bath was like. It used to be one of her favorite things to do after a rigorous rehearsal or performance. Nothing relaxed her muscles quite like a hot bath. Certainly not the wet washrag she was lucky to get to wipe herself down every few days when she decided the Imps couldn’t stand to smell her anymore. Mando’s shower on his ship had been a welcome improvement from that, but the broken heating coil put a real damper on Alaina being able to actually enjoy it.

After forcing her to eat two pieces of toast and a piece of meat, Mando escorted Alaina to meet Omera at the bathhouse, using her cloak to cover the fact that all Alaina was wearing was her borrowed tunic and her boots. He explained to her during their walk that the village had been attacked by raiders who showed no sign of stopping. The peaceful shrimping village had no way to defend itself. So, in exchange for their help with Alaina, a place to stay low for a while, and a purseful of credits to entice Cara Dune to come join them, they were going to take care of the villagers' problem.

Alaina had no doubt that the Mandalorian and the former Drop Trooper would be able to handle whatever they stumbled across easily. Mando had taken out an entire compound of Storm Troopers just to save her and the kid, and Cara almost beat Mando, so whatever pathetic raiders Mando and Cara came across today didn’t stand a chance against those two.

Maybe she would stay in this bathtub the entire day.

The village had two bathhouses constructed over two natural hot springs on either end of the village, one for women and one for men. There were several walls constructed around the hot spring to provide privacy around the tubs. Warm coals under the tubs helped keep the spring water warm after buckets were used to fill the tubs with the spring water. Each room was lit with a couple of lanterns that reflected soft light over the dark room. Omera had tossed a couple of dried herbs on top of the hot coals that filled the room with a relaxing smell. It was heaven.

Heaven in the form of a hot spring on some kind of backwater skughole named Sorgan. Who would have thought?

Alaina opened her eyes and could see Omera, with her shiny dark hair, smiling down at her body under the water. She breached the water quickly and pulled her knees up to her chest to cover herself.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Omera apologized and held up a bucket filled with water. “I thought you might like some help with your hair.”

“You really don’t have to,” Alaina tried to protest, but the woman shook her head.

“I don’t mind. I’m sure you’re fully capable, but you seem to be enjoying yourself. You have so much of it. Sometimes it’s nice to have someone else do it for you.”

Alaina gave her a tight smile and nodded her head, “Thank you.”

Omera had her scoot as far back as she could and tilted her head back to rest on the lip of the tub before grabbing all of her long, blonde hair and pulling it over the edge of the tub. Alaina sat stiffly in the tub, with her knees drawn up as high as they could and her arms wrapped around her chest, unsure of what to do in this situation. Being around strangers was one thing, but being around strangers while naked and bathing was a whole new level of fear and awkwardness that she had yet to experience.

“My daughter, Winta, has now reached the age where she thinks she should help me wash my hair,” Omera said, breaking the silence that settled around them.

A small smile slipped across Alaina’s face. She remembered a time when she also liked to help her mother with her hair or makeup. It was how she learned to braid hair. “I used to help my mom when I was her age, too. That was around the age she started teaching me to braid and would let me use her to practice on.”

The tanned woman smirked, and Alaina could see a playful glint in her dark eyes as she dipped her hair into the bucket and brought it higher up until all of her hair resided inside. “Braiding is maybe a little too advanced for Winta,” Omera winked. She brought some of the warm water up from the bucket to wet the hair out of reach. “The last time she helped me wash my hair, it was so tangled it took me the rest of the night to undo the damage.”

Alaina relaxed slightly at the easy conversation. “Oh, I remember a time that I accidentally knotted my mom’s hair, and her hair was so curly that it took her days to undo the damage I’d done,” she laughed, and Omera joined her in her laughter.

“I suppose that is how we learn. Although I think I am relieved that Winta has decided that it was too much effort in the end. My hair is relieved as well. Winta even prefers to keep her own hair shorter. It's easier to run through the woods and get dirty. She’s never been particularly interested in taking on the more traditional roles some of the elders expect young women to take. I think she’d prefer to be a hunter. She takes after her father like that.”

“I guess that’s where my similarities end with Winta, then,” Alaina joked.

Omera brought a bar of shampoo up and began rubbing it over Alaina’s crown, using her other hand to massage the soap into her scalp. Alaina’s eyes fluttered closed at the feeling of the woman shampooing her hair. Omera’s fingers were strong and worked quickly through her hair as she continued to run her fingers through the hair on her scalp, occasionally pulling the shampoo further and further down her locks.

“I was the definition of a girly girl,” Alaina continued, still enjoying the feeling of Omera’s fingers massaging her head. “My mom was beautiful but was clearly unsure what to do when her daughter refused to wear anything but dresses and wanted nothing to do with anything involved with getting her hands dirty. She eventually embraced it, though. She would make us matching dresses,” Alaina remembered fondly.

“You speak of her in the past. Has she died?”

Alaina nodded, “She got sick several years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Omera offered her condolences with a deep nod. “What did your father think of you being a girly girl, as you called it?”

Alaina shrugged, “I never knew him. He died when I was a baby. My mom didn’t talk about him much. I think it was too painful for her. Even the few times I was curious and asked about him, you could just see the love and pain in her eyes.”

“I can understand,” Omera nodded as she began to rinse the shampoo from her hair. “I lost my husband a few years ago. Like you, Winta never knew her father, yet somehow, she has become so much like him.”

“My mom used to say the same about me. Said I had his passion and grace. She used to tell me that a little piece of our parents lived inside our hearts, so even though he wasn’t here with us, a little piece of him lived in me.”

Omera smiled, “I like that thought.”

Alaina’s smile broadened, and she let out a little chuckle. “He was a soldier, and my mom said he used to get me to go to sleep by lecturing me on battle strategies or the history of various weapons. She used to get a kick out of the fact that whatever piece of him lived, lived on inside of a ballerina.”

“Ballerina?” Omera questioned curiously, apparently unfamiliar with the term.

Alaina nodded. “I was a dancer,” she explained. “Professionally. I performed with a group in front of an audience. We wore costumes, tights, dresses, the whole thing.”

“Beautiful, delicate, and a dancer,” Omera smiled, and Alaina cracked her eyes to stare up at the woman, curious by her words. “No wonder your Mandalorian is so enraptured by you.”

Her eyes flew the rest of the way open at the suggestion. “Oh, no,” Alaina shook her head. “He’s not my Mandalorian. It’s not like that,” she said quickly with wide, alarmed eyes.

Omera looked skeptical as she started to work some kind of cream into the ends of her hair. “I’m not so sure he doesn’t feel the same way. He was very concerned about you,” she informed her.

Alaina frowned. “You are most definitely mistaken. He’s just…” Alaina tapered off, trying to scrounge up the right words. The Mandalorian was a number of words: stubborn, confusing, monosyllabic… the list could go on, but nothing seemed to quite describe him. “He’s just Mando,” she settled on. 

Omera still looked unconvinced by Alaina’s half-hearted attempt at an explanation. There was a lot of history between them, and she wasn’t sure what Mando had shared with anyone. Knowing Mando and his penchant for silence and monosyllabic answers, she doubted anyone here knew the truth about their past. Or the strange path of redemption Mando appeared to be following where she was concerned.

Still, there was something about Omera that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. The comments about Mando, the warm smile she had earlier this morning that appeared to be just for him… They’d only been here three days, but he’d apparently made quite the impression on the single mother.

“Besides,” Alaina began again, “the person you described… that was a long time ago. I’m not that person anymore,” she finished sadly.

Omera studied her as she rinsed her hair one last time and then worked something that smelled like flowers into the ends of her hair. “How did you come to be with him and Grogu?” she asked, using her fingers to comb through her hair, searching for any missed knots or tangles. Alaina’s frown deepened at the question. “I’m sorry,” Omera apologized, shaking her head. “Your story is your story. We are just thankful for his help. Winta has thoroughly enjoyed playing with Grogu as well.”

Alaina gave her a tight smile, choosing to remain quiet. She wasn’t sure Omera wanted to learn the truth of how they met. The village woman seemed genuinely appreciative of Mando, and she didn’t want to make their remaining time here unpleasant by tarnishing their reputation.

“You hear things, though,” Omera continued, obviously not quite able to drop whatever she was trying to ask her. “About Mandalorians and bounty hunters—”

“Omera,” Alaina interrupted the woman, fixing her with a serious look. “Mando is many things, and our past is… difficult to explain at best, but most of all, he is a man of his word. If he said he would help with your problem, he’ll do it.” Just like he would turn you in if you had a bounty on your head, she thought silently to herself. “That’s just who he is.”

Her words seemed to quell Omera's worries as Alaina watched her relax and gave her a warm smile—one that Alaina couldn’t quite return—but the other woman didn’t seem to notice as she returned to focusing on her hair.

Alaina’s eyes fell forward as she became lost in her own thoughts on the Mandalorian in question.

Maybe the problem wasn’t Mando.

Mando had always known who he was.

Maybe the problem was Alaina no longer knew who she was.

Once Omera finished with her hair, she left a towel, and her cleaned clothes that Mando had gotten for her and told her she would be waiting outside for her when she was done.

Alaina was half tempted to reheat the coals under the tub, add another bucket of warm spring water, and stay in there the rest of the day, but she didn’t want to be rude to Omera, who was waiting for her. She took her time redressing and used the towel to scrunch as much of the water as she could out of her hair before leaving the relaxing little room to join Omera.

Her guide started their tour at the hall for a lunch of venison stew with some of the other villagers there. Unused to being fed such fulfilling, regular meals, Alaina was unable to finish her bowl, but she enjoyed the camaraderie of eating with the others. Even when they all became excited that there was a bonafide Mandalorian here to help them with their raider problem. They tried to get Alaina to tell them some of Mando’s stories or get her to tell them what he was like, but Alaina simply told them that their wild theories about the Mandalorian were much more exciting than the life of a bounty hunter. They had seemed disappointed that Alaina didn’t have any stories to share, but it didn’t stop them from taking turns telling stories that they’d heard regarding Mando and others like him.

After lunch, Omera continued their tour. They made a brief stop at the healers’ hut, but the elders there appeared more interested in meeting the woman who had captivated a Mandalorian than they were actually assessing her. Omera kept a close eye on her and gracefully excused them when she noticed Alaina was becoming uncomfortable with their questions and scrutiny.

She was even more grateful for the woman when she continued their tour without questioning her on her obvious discomfort over Mando’s continued praise.

Without missing a beat, Omera led her to the shrimping pools, explaining in detail how the pools are stocked and maintained. From the shrimp farms, she walked them to the tree line of the forest where Mando and Cara had disappeared to let her know the direction of the nearby creek where they used to clean their clothes and swim during the brutal summer months. When they made their way back to the village, they walked by the school, which was nothing more than a one-room building, hardly larger than the shack that she had woken up in. No children appeared to be inside at the moment, but their laughter and giggles could be heard echoing throughout the village.

The village was nothing like any other place she had ever experienced before. 

Her homeworld was bustling, overcrowded with people, and industrial. All of those people had jobs that didn’t involve farming, so Alaina found the entire thing fascinating.

Omera was in the middle of confirming that they were, in fact, housing them in a shed that they had cleaned out and furnished with the cot, crib, and table when the shrill sound of children squealing caught the women’s attention.

It didn’t take long for them to find the group of children all circled around—

“Grogu!” Alaina called out, snapping her fingers at the mischievous green toddler as she marched toward him.

Grogu turned to look back at her with wide eyes, and the back legs of a frog kicking wildly were hanging from his mouth. The kid quickly swallowed down the frog before Alaina made it over to him, making the children scream again, and a chorus of ‘ewwwww’ mixed with the screams. Grogu, however, was oblivious to the other kids, his sights set on Alaina, and came toddling to her.

“Grogu,” Alaina sighed, bending over to pick up the ornery child, “what am I going to do with you?”

Grogu’s focus had already shifted, and his eyes locked on her hair. 

Alaina hadn’t worn it down in years. With the curly nature of her hair and the lack of care she had been able to give it, it was usually just kept in a braid. However, since it had actually been cleaned and cared for, she decided to let her curls down. The kid reached for the closest honey lock and tugged on the curl. “Hey, gentle,” Alaina winced, giving him a look.

“Momma,” Winta’s voice called as she trotted over to them, “can Grogu have dinner with us tonight?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Omera attempted to intervene.

“But—”

“Winta, this is the first day Alaina has been up since they’ve been here. Perhaps he should spend the evening with his family.”

The little girl looked longingly at her mother, then at Alaina, before ending up on her friend and giving in with a sigh.

Omera shook her head at the dejected girl. “She’s really taken a liking to him, and Grogu seems to be happy here,” the woman commented. “Maybe you all would be.”

Alaina gave Omera a genuine smile. She knew Mando had been planning on staying here for a stretch to lay low until Dune countered with her ultimatum. Maybe she would change their mind about all of them being together here. 

Their village was quaint, and everyone she had met seemed genuinely nice. Alaina had never lived in such a primitive place before, but the idea wasn’t completely off-putting. They hadn’t had a chance to discuss long-term plans for either her or Grogu. Grogu seemed to be really happy here. Maybe village life would be the perfect environment for a kid. For Alaina while the village did seem quite idyllic, Alaina wasn’t sure if it would be a long-term solution for her. Something told her she would eventually come to miss the hustle and bustle of city life.

Alaina shrugged her shoulders. Try as she might, she couldn’t imagine Mando settling down here. There weren’t many opportunities for a bounty hunter in a shrimping community.

“If he isn’t your Mandalorian, why would that be a consideration?” Omera questioned.

Alaina didn’t have an answer for that.

Despite her initial wariness of Omera, she had warmed up to the woman over their day together. She was soft and kind yet had a firm backbone that Alaina respected. They spent most of the afternoon walking outside together. Alaina did whatever she could to make sure they stayed outside so she could enjoy the sun and the forest around her, hoping that, eventually, they would wash out the lava fields that haunted her. 

She had been in the middle of imagining the armored Mandalorian fishing in the shrimp ponds but was cut short when something made her pause.

It was as if the first chord struck at the beginning of the concert, and everything came alive in her. Something inside her thrummed, and she took a worried step back.

“Alaina? Is everything okay?” Omera’s concerned voice called after her.

“They’re back!” one of the villagers in the distance called, and Alaina turned to look at the woods just in time to see Mando and Cara walk out of the tree line.

She relaxed, brushing the feeling off. It would appear that her internal Mandalorian alarm system was fully intact. Alaina nodded and gave Omera a reassuring smile.

“Yes, sorry, everything is…” Alaina faded off as she studied Mando as he marched toward the village.

Everything was not fine. Something was wrong with him, or something went wrong during their scouting expedition.

He was too stiff as he walked, and his fists were clenched in tight balls at his side. Cara’s sour look only confirmed her suspicions.

Alaina shared a worried look with Omera before she took off to intercept the Mandalorian.

“Hey, look who’s finally up and around,” Cara greeted, giving her a broad smile as she approached them with Grogu in her arms.

“Hi,” Alaina greeted the Drop Trooper but kept her focus directed at Mando. “What’s wrong?”

Mando continued walking right past Alaina. “We’re leaving,” came the gruff, short answer.

Alaina frowned and looked back at Cara, who just shrugged at her, obviously not disagreeing with his call.

Alaina trotted to catch up with him, but the man refused to stop his quick march through the village. “Hey!” Alaina moved her smaller body in front of Mando’s and raised her voice, forcing him to stop. “We can’t just leave. You promised you’d help these people.”

“If they know what’s good for them, they’ll leave too,” Cara said.

Alaina’s eyes widened at the lackadaisical response. “But—”

“This isn’t up for debate,” he barked, refusing to even look at her.

Omera approached the group and gave Alaina a questioning look. Alaina had spent all day with these people who had taken them in. Surely, whatever Mando found out in the woods couldn’t be that bad.

Alaina looked back at him with a pleading look and tentatively placed her hand in the middle of the armor covering his chest. “Mando, you gave these people your word!”

“There’s an Imperial Walker out there, Alaina!” Mando emphasized, pointing back at the woods he had just exited.

At the declaration, ice ran through her veins, and she subconsciously took a step back, squeezing Grogu tightly to her chest.

“We can’t take that risk,” he continued, now that he saw he had her complete attention and understanding. “If there is a chance that there are Imperial remnants out there…” He didn’t need to finish his thought. Even though Alaina knew he was focused on keeping her and the kid safe, Alaina couldn’t help but think about the villagers here who had asked for his help. If there were Imperial remnants out there with an Imperial Walker, there was no way this poor community would survive.

Especially once they learned that the village was harboring fugitives.

“I think what Mando here is trying to say is he’s not gonna involve you or the kid in that. I’d do the same thing if I had someone as cute and sweet as the two of you on my crew,” Cara translated with a smirk.

“Not helping,” Alaina pointed at her, but the woman just gave her a wink that Alaina ignored before turning back to Mando. “Mando, these people can’t just leave. This is their home.”

“Homes get destroyed. People rebuild.” Short, terse, gruff. He was being a stubborn ass about this. She needed to make them see that they couldn’t just uproot their entire village.

“Mando, that’s not fair for them! What’s to stop them from being hunted again?”

“This isn’t up for debate, Alaina! We’re packing up and leaving. Now.”

“But—”

“I’m not losing you to them, Alaina!” the Mandalorian seethed, grabbing her upper arm that wasn’t holding Grogu. His grip was so tight that it made Alaina cringe in pain. “Either of you.”

Alaina’s mouth was open to argue with him, but the quiet spoken words that came next silenced her.

“Not again.”

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Next chapter in series - Chapter 7: The Choice