of beskar and kyber {chapter 15}
Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)
Summary: Moff Gideon's troops close in on your position as you try to make an escape.
Word Count: 12.5k (!!)
Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical language, canon typical gore, fighting, fight scenes, conflict, emotional trauma, emotional manipulation, physical manipulation, coercion, manipulation, reader goes momentarily mute, emotional outbursts, argumentative language, din raises his voice, din yells at reader two times, loss of temper for both reader and din, moff gideon gets his own warning, description of injuries, blood, descriptions of nausea, concussions, minor character death, major character injury, angst, emotional rollercoaster, reader has a name that is sparingly used for plot points, if i forgot anything please let me know and i'll add it!
A/N: so, this happened nearly immediately after i posted the last one. had the general scenes of this chapter outlined for ages, but it took a darker turn than even i anticipated. this chapter is dedicated to @sawymredfox for allowing me to bounce ideas off of them! i don't know what to say other than, i'm sorry and please feel free to (kindly) yell at me if you need to
ao3 || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi
“We need to move.”
“Who put you in charge?”
“I’m sorry, do you speak Mando’a? Do you know the customs and cultural presets for interacting with them on their own terms, in their own setting?” One last tear trailed down your cheek and you roughly wiped it away. Trying your best to keep the heated gaze you shared with the older man.
Neither person said anything as you walked past them to take the lead, ad’ika cooing after you with one of his small claws. He began to wriggle in Cara’s grip, unhappy with the woman holding him, a cry breaking the silence of the darkened tunnel. She tried her best to keep him secure against her chest, but he pushed at her, little fists thumping hard. He kept his gazed trained on you, another bellowing cry gaining volume the further you walked away.
“I think he wants you, cyar’ika.” Cara called out, unsure of what else to do. She followed after you, steps echoing all around. You turned with a blank face that quickly softened as you looked down at the child. Heart thudding as you reached out for him, he practically threw himself at you, jumping from Cara’s hold and toward you. You caught him with a small huff, trying to keep a solid hold on him as he buried his face into your neck and whimpered.
“I’ve got you, ad’ika.” You murmured, away of Karga watching you, something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher. With quiet words, you secured him in the bag he had been handed to Kuiil in during your separation and adjusted it over your shoulder. You fixed it to rest along your left hip, his weight barely anything as he kept one hand wrapped around the hem of your tank top for comfort.
The tunnels were deserted, no sign of recent occupation or life, traveling further into them. You couldn’t have been making progress, the winding underground world expansive and deliberately set up to deter people from finding the pockets of life hidden within. With a frustrated sigh, you shined your vambrace’s flashlight on the walls around you. Trying to catch a glimpse of anything scribed along them, using the red of it to pick up on anything gilded in hidden ink.
You wished for the helmet Akiz had left to you, for the cover of it and the different visor settings to aid you in your search. But you had lost it, like you had everything else. It was hopefully still secured in the chest buried in the remnants of your hideaway deep in the desert of Tatooine.
Maybe…maybe it was time to return there, with ad’ika, if you ever managed to get off world. Place the pendant Din had gifted you along side it. Remnants of a life you had tried to start over twice now and unable to maintain. The sacrifice of two Mandalorians weighing you down and urging you to hide away once again. The threat after you, after you both too strong to fight and overcome.
An explosion overhead had you reaching for the child, hand firm on his small back as he fussed.
All three of you turned toward the direction you had just come from, wary of the tunnels beginning to cave in and trap you. Your breath hitched at the sound of twin steps, the unsteady light dancing o the wall as figures approached and rounded the corner you had just turned.
But it wasn’t soldiers or Mandalorians intent on protecting their space, nor civilians running from the fighting and occupation of the city overhead.
It was IG-11, leading and supporting a weak Din.
Your body wouldn’t move, mind going blank as Din’s amor glinted in the low light of the tunnels.
Cara rushed forward, a smile breaking out on her face. Karga right behind her as she reached out a tentative hand to his cuirass. His helmet bobbed, unsteady on his feet and balance shot as he swayed from the light pressure. He didn’t say anything as she curled an arm around his back and took the brunt of his weight. Light emanating from the side of his helmet swinging around as he jostled from the movements.
“Want to lend a hand here?” She looked toward you, frozen in your spot.
When you didn’t say anything, eyes avoiding looking directly at the armored figure and fingers twitching with the urge to reach out an ensure he was real, he was alive, he was right in front of you; Karga took point.
“Do you know which way to go?”
“No. I don’t know these tunnels.” His voice was still raspy, a scratchy quality that prickled the skin of your back as it fell on your ears. Secure in his pouch, ad’ika cooed in response, ears wiggling as he watching his guardian with wide eyes. When the helmet raised and focused on your completely, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to care that his light was shining directly on you. “I’ve only entered from the bazaar. Mesh’la, have you found any clues?”
You turned your back on him and began to walk, not trusting your voice. A grunt of pain displayed through the helmet, Cara murmuring quiet words to ensure he was okay enough to move. When he agreed, she adjusted his arm over her shoulder and began to follow after you.
“She’s been quiet since we left you behind.”
“Well, if we get the smell of sulfur and we follow it, it’ll lead us up to the plains where the river flows.
“The Imps will catch us before we make it to the ship. We need the Mandalorians to escort us to safety.
“Ugh, this place is a maze.
“Stop.” He sounded more clear than he had as of yet. Slowly pulling away from Cara, flanked by them both as they prepared to catch him should he fall. “I can stand.”
“The bacta infusion is working.” IG-11 assured and it eased your heart a bit, to know that the man had taken help from the droid, even if he hadn’t taken it from you. But bacta could only do so much, mentally making a note to pick up more the first chance you had. If not in the controlled city, then on the next world as soon as the ship was docked and you ensured he would be okay while in your absence.
“I’ll try to find tracks. Mesh’la have you found any up there?” Din tried to call out, rasp to his voice stirring concern in you, it swirled alongside the dark tendrils keeping their hold on you. Amalgamating into an uncomfortable weight carried inside of you as you continued to press on through the tunnels.
When you didn’t answer, only stepped out from the middle of the space, did he see what you had been faintly following without even knowing it. He slowly walked forward, still limping slightly, though he did seem a bit steadier on his feet now.
“We’re close.” He pointed towards your feet, his visor allowing him to see the highlighted trail of footprints from someone within the last few hours. You leaned away from his touch to brush your arm as he stood beside you, helmet watching your downcast face. He whispered your name, voice cracking on the feel of it through his sore throat. He reached out for you again, gloved hand barely brushing the side of your cheek before you were pulling away and moving behind the rest of the group.
He could only watch in concern when you removed the bag ad’ika was settled in from your shoulders and handed it to a willing IG-11 to hold. Words stuck in his own throat as he wanted desperately for a moment alone with you to talk things out and comfort you. But time was a luxury none of you had, if the sporadic explosions from up above were any more of an indication of the predicament.
With a sigh that crackled through the modulator, he began to move once again. A few winding tunnels and turns revealed pockets of life as furniture and barrels began to fill the underground space in pockets.
He came to a slow halt, flashlight making a pile of Mandalorian armor visible right in front of him. It took up most of the current tunnel, the visors of the helmets glinting in the direct light as he stared at them. You held back a gasp at the sight of them, keeping some of your focus on the empty, dark space behind you lest you had followers.
The click of Din turning off his light was loud in the tense silence, the air charged with the emotions he was feeling at such a hopeless and painful sight. He approached the pile slowly, steps stilted as the bacta worked to get him somewhat healed. He kneeled down in front of it, shoulders slumped, and head bowed.
Ad’ika cried out, picking up on the armored man’s emotions. Fussing in the hold IG-11 had on him though he didn’t try to detach.
A helmet was between his hands, lifted up for him to gauge it better. When he was still for longer than a few heartbeats, Cara inched forward and leaned down toward him.
“We should go.”
“You go. Take the ship. I can’t leave it this way.” Somber voice spoken through the modulator, it had you stepping forward but you thought better of it. Not sure if he would welcome your presence beside him at the moment, the memory of approaching a broad figure wearing blue armor replaying in your mind. It was the catalyst for the scene in front of you, Din hunched on the ground, the helmet of one of his fallen gripped in his hands. More evidence of fallen warriors piled in front of him. And it felt like an omen, that it wouldn’t be the last loss for the man to experience. It couldn’t be, not as long as you were with him. As long as ad’ika was with him. Targets marked on your backs, welcoming more conflict, more battles, more gunfire, more loss.
“Did you know about this? Is this the work of your bounty hunters?” Anger flared in his voice, words biting as he turned toward Karga. His legs were stable as he harnessed his anger and closed in on the surprised man. He didn’t move against the approaching man, completely taken off guard by the pile of armor just as everyone else. You felt that same pull of darkness thrum, the memory of Akiz passing too sharp in your mind, striking through you and leaving a chasm for the pull to fill. Dark energy flowed into the chasm, brimming over the edges of it, beginning to take more space in your psyche.
“No. When you left the system and took the prize, the fighting ended, and the hunters just melted away. You know how it is. They’re mercenaries. They’re not zealots.”
“Did you do this? Did you?” Surging up, the helmet clunked to the ground. Din was on Karga in a second, dominant hand coming out to push at the older man’s chest, words demanding and furious.
“No!” Was all the older man could shout back, knowing he was no match for even an injured Mandalorian in close combat. The hand not holding fast to a blaster came up to try and placate the approaching man, though he didn’t make an actual move to push back.
“It was not his fault.” A woman’s modulated voice broke the tension suddenly. Din turned around slowly, peering into the darkness that it came from. It was as if he recognized the voice, because he made no move to raise a weapon up. Cara startled, as did ad’ika. But you stood still, unwilling to make yourself a target lest the person be a threat.
“We revealed ourselves.” A tall woman appeared from the mouth of a tunnel that jutted off from this one. Her helmet glinted gold in the low light, small horns a decoration jutting along the top. She was dressed in a deep red, the armor painted over a dull brown outfit of leggings, a skirt, and a long-sleeved shirt. She had a shorter cape about her shoulders, though it was made of thick brown fur.
She was completely calm, voice controlled and the cadence in line with those who seldom used Basic.
She leaned down to retrieve some of the armor, motions precise and almost leisurely.
“We knew what could happen if we left the covert. We were made aware of your situation by that one there hiding among the shadows. The Imperials arrived shortly thereafter. This is what resulted.”
She explained easily, no remorse or malice in her tone. It simply became a part of what happened, something she would carry silently with her. A part of her history that would one day be a verse in her song, but for now it was something that she must take in stride and move forward.
But you weren’t so collected.
You felt nausea rise up from your stomach and into your chest, recalling the way you had tracked the blue armored man and approached him. You had only wanted to help, only wanted to ensure Din hadn’t walked into a death trap in his escape with ad’ika. You hadn’t meant for the chain of events to end like this. With so many dead and now lost to the never-ending fight against the Empire. The fault for it once again. Adding another regret to the long list you carried with inside yourself.
They had already lost so much, very life eradicated from their home world, an entire culture nearly wiped out. And you had played a part in it, once again proving those who manipulated you right. You were capable of dangerous, powerful things. Breathing shaky, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the pile of armor. The beskar began to rattle, the tendrils that wrapped around your psyche tightened and pulled. Causing you to crash to your knees with a painful gasp.
“Did any survive?” As Din carefully asked, you untucked the pendant he had gifted you from your pocket, the cord he had used to keep it around his neck secured to your belt. You clenched your hand around it until the beskar it was made up bit into your palm, the pain centering you in a way that you both hated and were grateful for.
“I hope so. Some may have escaped off world.”
“Come with us.”
“No.” She continued to load pieces of the armor to the cart pulled up behind her, an inkling of the reason on the tip of your tongue. “I will not abandon this place until I have salved what remains.”
Din followed her, turning to enter the space that opened up to the left. Cara and Karga shared a look before they turned to you, moving to follow him when you didn’t look up from your spot on kneeled on the ground, hand still gripped tight around the pendant hanging from your belt.
The forge nestled in the middle of the space was quiet, the soft hush of the constant fires a small comfort to the man who followed behind the armorer of his people. He watched silently as she began to feed pieces into the forge and melt them down.
“Bring her to me, I wish to speak to her.”
Din obliged silently, walking back out into the main tunnel. He kneeled down in front of you with a few heavy pants of exertion, hands reaching out for you but he thought better of it and voiced a soft call of your name to garner your attention. Your head snapped up, eyes filled with tears and a shadow of regret in them. They glinted in the low light and he worried what it meant.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-“ You took a deep breath in, voice cracking and filled with emotion. “I didn’t mean for anyone to die. I just- I just wanted to help. You were outnumbered beyond capability and I was too weak to fight.”
“You did help, mesh’la. You approached them for help, and they rallied to heed the call. This is the Way.”
He reached out for your hands when he noticed them clenched into tight fists, digging his fingers beneath your own and relieving the tension. The mythosaur pendant was revealed and he watched as it fell to rest against your thigh. “Please don’t hurt yourself, you don’t deserve it.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look directly into the visor, guilt rolling off of you in waves. He could feel the trembling of your arms as he gripped your hands, trying his best to gently pull you up with him as he stood. You probably helped him get back to his feet as much as he had done for you, sharing in the simple task that was too much at the moment. He dropped the contact as soon as you were both on your feet, not wanting to push you or make you uncomfortable. It was obvious you were still reeling from what happened in the cantina. From him not allowing you to heal him and urging you to save yourself. But it would have to wait, the discussion of the day, for you two. To occur between closed doors and with secured privacy for you both.
“She wants to talk with you, the Armorer.”
Following behind him, you watched the way he was moving gingerly, focusing on pulling up the weight of his legs to move forward, his arms nearly motionless at his sides. The woman was standing before the impressive forge, silhouette bold.
“Show me the one whose safety deemed such destruction.”
“This is the one.” Din motioned to the bad being carried by IG-11, ad’ika preened under the attention, glad that his guardian was back alongside him. Even if the young being could sense the pain and discomfort the armored man was in. That he was pushing through to continue to protect him, to shield him from those threats with which he had directly challenged all those days ago after first meeting him…
“This is the one that you hunted, then saved?”
“Yes. The one that saved me as well.” Din’s response was even, polite.
“From the mudhorn?"
“Yes.”
“It looks helpless.”
“Ad’ika is injured, but he is not helpless. His species can move objects with its mind.”
“Ad’ika? It is unusual that you’ve deemed it a nickname. Have you bonded?”
“….a little. But Mesh’la-“
“Another nickname, how…personal of you.” Her interest was piqued, the tone of her voice lightening a smidge. Almost as if her lips were quirked up in a knowing smile.
“I gave him the nickname, he will not communicate his given name with me and it’s made things easier as time moved on and we traveled with him in our charge. In…burc’ya’s charge.” You spoke up, hoping you weren’t overstepping any unspoken rules. You had never interacted with this woman, but your experience with previous Mandalorian Armorers had been different. They had held high, important positions in the culture but something about her seemed….more. She was the head of her faction, if you had to guess. A guiding member of her own covert, if her remaining behind to care for those in death as she had looked after them in life was any indication.
Children of the Watch, Akiz would describe them, had described them to you. He had been a part of that faction of Mandalorian culture as well, though his covert had been wiped out before his time on K’ath. Where your paths crossed and your time together was solidified in the stars. Their practice of the culture more in tune with the religious scripture. Stricter adherence to the mentality of concealing one’s identity, that they were all of one identity.
Tension existed between them and the general population of Mandalore, you had noticed even as a child, due to their beliefs. It wasn’t anything that caused conflict, thankfully, just a strained interaction or two depending on how individuals reacted to the knowledge. Mandalorian’s were accepting people, an accepting culture for the most part. But there were bad seeds and ill notions as with any large population.
But he had been nothing but loving and kind to you, giving you a chance at a life you wouldn’t have had without him responding to your distress call and rescuing you. The same for Din, despite having been his target of capture to return to your mother in a business transaction. The man had overlooked his responsibilities in order to allow you freedom, saved by a selfless Mandalorian once again. Gifted his intentions of personal pursuit, a connection that was proving to be so much more than either of you could have guessed back in that desert compound….
“I know of such things. And she is the one who did so when another appeared to defend its fallen mate?”
“Yes.” He nodded to you, signaling that it was indeed okay to respond to the woman’s rather direct and simple questions.
“Elek, vod.”
Yes, ma’am.
“Gar jorhaa’ir Mando’a.”
You speak Mando’a.
“Elek, ni kar’taylir jorcu be ner cabur. Akiz Noves.”
Yes, I know because of my guardian. Akiz Noves.
“Gar cuyir a evaar'la solus.”
You are a foundling.
She moved with an easy confidence, pulling more ladles of molten beskar from within the forge. Taking them to her work bench and pouring it into a set of molds she had laid out. Taking from the old to create new, a cycle that allowed for her culture to persevere.
“Nayc, ni cuy be a nuarra. A kaysh ogir par ni tion’tuur ni gaa’tayl.”
No, I am of a different Creed. But he was there for me when I needed help.
“Tion gar gal?”
What is your name?
“Noves, gifted to me from my guardian. San, is my given name.”
“And you hold the same power?”
“Yes.”
“The songs of eons past tell of battles between Mandalore the Great and an order of sorcerers called Jedi that fought with such powers.”
“He’s an enemy?” Din seemed surprised, while he may only know what he did of them through you, you hadn’t mentioned that those who followed his way of life and yours were sworn enemies. He looked over to you, the woman taking notice of the shared look between you both as you slightly shook your head to assure him that you hadn’t been deceiving him all this time. He wouldn’t have believed it of you, with how things had developed between you both, the connection you two shared. Surely you would’ve told him if the child was a being typically raised with a disposition toward his own.
“No. Its kind were enemies in the sense that battles took place throughout history when ideals did not align. But these two individuals are not. It is a foundling.” She turned her back on to the line your group made in front of her and began to move about the workspace. “By Creed, it is in your care. And she is your key to reuniting it with its own kind should she not want the responsibility herself.”
Items in her grip as she tilted her helmet toward you, another question sounding from her.
“You are sworn to the Jedi Creed, are you not?”
“I…I was. I no longer adhere to either side of the Force. I am sensitive to it, can wield it.” It was an honest half answer, the morality of the question too detailed to get into at the moment. Something you weren’t sure anyone who wasn’t Force sensitive would even begin to understand. But you wanted her to know that you weren’t trying to deceive her or her authority. You were simply being as plain as you could with her, knowing it would mean a great deal to Din for you to do so. That you didn’t want to anything other than show her the respect she deserved.
“You allowed her aboard your ship, share your wares with her as an equal. She can aid you in this mission. Your journeys are intertwined, it was almost as if the Maker knew and set your paths parallel. This is the Way.”
“I have stated my intention of courtship.” Din announced, completely honest with the woman leading the conversation. He respected her, deeply. It was obvious in the way that he stood, at attention despite his injuries no doubt making it hard for him to even concentrate and stand up at all. He should be resting, a luxury you knew all too well was something out of reach when the lives you led seldom allowed for it.
“And have you accepted?” The visor settled into the gold of her helmet was trained on you fully now, watching you with an intensity that made the hairs on the back of your neck rise.
You could sense the stillness of Din across the room, his breath baited as he waited for your answer. It would be so easy to lie, to cut the ties between you both that have developed in the wake of losing control. The connection intense enough to influence the balance that had taken you years to find within yourself, all-encompassing and completely terrifying. The confession he whispered to you as he lay injured echoed in your ear, the return of it on the forefront of your mind. Feeling heat blossom in your chest as you recalled the emotions he stirred in you, all the good, you nodded in affirmation. Knowing the importance of declaring such a thing to the woman before you. Of declaring it to Din plainly, even in the wake of the day’s events.
“Yes, he means a great deal to me.” You breathed out, conviction obvious, the sentiment behind the words not lost on you.
“Hey, not that this isn’t exciting information, but these tunnels will be lousy with Imps in a matter of minutes. We should at least discuss an escape plan.” Her lips quirked again, similar to how they had done when Din admitted to you knowing his name, that he had shared it with you and allowed you to use it.
“If you follow the descending tunnel, it will lead you to the underground river. It flows downstream toward the lava flats.” She turned her attention back to the forge, extending a long handled ladle into the depts of it and retrieving out the molten beskar of the armor she had carefully placed in it moments before.
“I think we should go.” Cara urged, not wanting to become trapped beneath the city as the troops above figured out a way into the tunnels. However winding and confusing they were, it was only a matter of time until they closed in on your position. Especially if you weren’t moving. You had a better chance out in the open landscape, could hide out somewhere and bid your time until nightfall. Get back to the Crest or manage to steal a ship from the city outskirts.
“I’m staying, I need to help her, and I need to heal. Mesh’la can take ad’ika and go with you, hide out until we can reconvene.”
“You must go. A foundling is in your care. By Creed, until it is of age or reunited with its own kind, you are as its father. This is the Way.”
The room stilled, it was obvious Din wanted to argue his point, but he remained quiet. His need to provide for his people an integral part of the man that he was and he was being instructed to leave the only known surviving one behind. You weren’t sure if you would be able to do so either.
“You have earned your signet.” She walked over to him, a metal plate in her hand and a small welding tool. She fastened it to his right pauldron with quick work. When she stepped back, it was revealed to be the skull of a mudhorn. While you and Din gazed at the addition to his beautiful armor, she moved about the space with admirable concentration and ease.
She walked back to her work bench, retrieving the molds she had filled earlier and removing the now cooler metal. She gathered them with a pair of tongs, moving to plunge them into the vat of water used to set pieces. After a few moments, she deemed them perfect and pulled them out. Wiping them down and taking the mallet to a few places, she revealed her work to be a pair of pauldrons.
She held the armor out to you.
“When a Mandalorian courts, that is a very important bond.” You stepped forward at her beckoning, allowing her to fasten the pieces of armor to your shoulders, her gloved fingers moving your cape out of the way with careful motions. Feeling the presence of Akiz watching over you as she did so. You closed your eyes, immersing yourself in the feeling of being accepted by the woman, by the leader of Din’s covert. Of being folded into Mandalorian culture once again. Thankful for the endless kindness and protection its people had provided to you throughout your life.
The weight of the armor was foreign, beskar being known as one of the strongest and most dense metals in the galaxy. But it was also comforting, akin to being wrapped up in the arms of someone you trusted.
“And though you are not to be riduurok just yet, that makes you a part of his clan. A clan of three.”
She fastened a twin signet into your right pauldron, mirroring the way she had done with Din.
“Thank you. I will wear this with honor.” Reverence coated his somber tone, aware of the importance of finally being given such a symbol from the leader of his covert. The importance of the Armorer gifting you the set of pauldrons, his signet. That it was not given lightly, nor without thought.
“I will as well, your craftmanship is inspiring.”
“While you still follow another Creed, you have been folded in our own, it is a great honor.”
An explosion sounded overhead, too close for comfort. The commotion broke the scene, calling everyone back to reality in a harsh way.
“IG, please guard the other hallway. A scouting party draws near.”
Heeding the woman’s command, the droid handed the bag in its hold to Cara.
“Hang on. I don’t do the baby thing.” Ad’ika squealed happily as he reached out to wave his claws in her face. She moved to hand the bag over to you, but you held your hands up in surrender.
“He likes you, accept it cyar’ika.”
“I have one more gift for your journey.” The Armorer announced. Moving behind Din and toward a chest that was up against the wall of the workspace.
“Have you trained in the Rising Phoenix?”
“When I was a boy, yes.”
“Then this will make you complete.” She turned around, revealing a purely silver beskar pack. It was beautiful, the details of it amazing as you looked over it. Din seemed to be taken aback by such an offering, his voice low when he thanked her.
“When you have healed, you will begin your drills. Until you know it, it will not listen to your commands.”
“I understand.”
“Ensure that he is completely healed before he begins, it is your responsibility to care for him until he is recovered. Do not allow him to harm himself with his notion of impatience. As I’m sure you’ve picked up on it in your time together.”
You felt a smile tug at your lips as you stepped forward, placing a hand atop Din’s left shoulder. You nodded an affirmation of the woman’s words, teasing quality to them as she displayed how well she knew the man standing between you.
Any remark you were about to make was lost as the sound of blaster fire echoed down the tunnels. Far too close for comfort. There was a loud thud, before the form of IG-11 appeared in the mouth of the workspace. Two blasters in its grip it turned to the group and assured that the threat had been taken care of.
“More will come. You must go.”
“Come with us.” Din breathed out, not a question but a silent plea of the woman before him.
“My place is here. Restock your munitions. Both of you.” When you didn’t follow the man’s steps toward the cache of weaponry, he turned to you with a tilt of his helmet.
“Mesh’la, take what you need.”
“I-I can’t. The armor is already-“ You stumbled over your worlds, overcome with meaning behind declaring your intentions with Din. With the pull toward the dark pit that had opened up inside of you that took conscious effort not to fall into its pull every second since it formed.
“You are a part of this, you’ve been accepted into the covert. You have a right to the supplies offered for battle.”
“IG, carry this for Din Djarin until he is well enough to wear it.”
“Now, go.” The Armorer held out the jet pack for the droid, ensuring it was secure before bidding you goodbye. “Down to the river and across the plains. Be safe on your journey.”
“Thank you.” Din followed after the others, allowing you a moment alone with the Armorer as you moved to stand in front of her beside the forge.
“Thank you, vod. I-I have no words to express my gratitude.”
“You are welcome, anyone who intends to become riduurok with one of our kind is accepted as one of our own. Though, I’m sure you know of such customs from your guardian. Do you still carry his armor with you?
“I have his helmet, he gifted it to me upon his death. The rest was lost in a plasma explosion. I’m sorry for not being able to deliver it to his home planet or another covert to recycle.” You bowed your head, sincere in your words.
“I hereby give you permission to alter it for yourself, should you wish to don it in battle. I will not enforce the rule of anonymity on you that the rest of us follow. Look out for him, he…means a great deal to our covert, what remains of it. He was the sole provider for many years while we stayed hidden in the shadows for our own protection.”
“I will, I swear to you.”
“Go, may our paths cross again, San Noves.” She reached out and placed a hand on your shoulder, nodding at you before turning her back on you.
After what felt like far too long, the tunnels finally opened up into a wide chasm. The space filled with a flowing river, lava making up the currents as it slowly moved to the east. It was a mesmerizing sight, beautiful in the way it glowed red and orange through the crust of volcanic rock that began to harden along the top.
The heat from the river was intense, making the air too dry to breath in without feeling a sting in your lungs. You worried for ad’ika in Cara’s hold. His smaller body struggling with the new environment.
Both men dashed forward, inspecting the abandoned vehicle hovering above the river at the bank. A motionless droid was covered in hardened lava, the rock encasing the entire figure save for a part of its front and the top of its head. It looked like it had been abandoned a long while ago, days, perhaps weeks at this point if the city had been overrun for as long as Karga described. The bottom and body of the vehicle seemed to be in good shape, but more hardened lava had bridged the space between it and the shore, locking it into place.
Both men began to push at the boat, trying their best to loosen the melding of it to the makeshift dock of the riverbank. You and Cara shared an exasperated look at their efforts, knowing there was no way one man at full strength and one at half would be able to shift it.
Din showed his growing frustration by surging up and kicking at the side of the speeder. He stumbled from the reverb of his action, and you rushed to wrap your arms around his shoulders and catch and prevent him from falling completely. There was no telling what it would’ve done to the partial recovery he had made. You didn’t want him to lose consciousness again or irritate the injuries he was fighting against. It didn’t matter how well the bacta was working, he could always make the problem worse. To the point beyond a general healing spray and that…that wouldn’t be good. You doubted he would allow you to take him to a med center, even if it was run primarily by droids. Especially if it was run primarily by droids.
“Come on! What’re you doing?”
Din pulled from your grip, nearly shrugging you off in his move to retrieve a broken piece of piping that was scattered on the bank.
“Let’s try this.” Thankfully Cara had the same train of thought as you did, that it was futile to try and force the vehicle to separate from the shoreline. She adjusted the large blaster in her hold, keeping one arm wrapped securely around ad’ika.
“You guys mind getting out of the way?”
When the bolts didn’t work to detach the speeder, you held your hands out and harnessed the power curled up inside of you, feeling it in full force as you controlled it to focus on the body of the vehicle. A low whine sounded from deep in your chest as it didn’t budge, urging you to shift your focus on the rock keeping it tethered in place. It was silent for a moment, Din stepping up beside you to assure you that it wasn’t necessary for you to do so. His words were cut off by the metallic groaning of the boat prying away from the shore to float freely in the river.
He curled a hand around your shoulder, silently praising you. As he stepped forward to board, his gloved fingers trailed down the beskar protection you had been adorned with, almost caressing the signet fastened proudly into the metal. He held out a hand to help you bridge the gap between it and the heightened shore. Your heart thudding with a few heavy beats as you took it and boarded alongside him.
Mechanical beeping and whirring had all four of you turning with blasters raised toward the ferry droid that had suddenly activated. The rock attached to it crumbled away as it activated and stood. It was tall, towering over even Din, moving to displace a metal oar from where it had been hidden among the rock.
“I don’t suppose anyone here speaks droid?”
“I believe he is asking where we would like to go.” IG-11 translated.
“Down river. To the lava flat.” Karga spoke strongly, his voice holding an air of command to it, ensuring that there was no confusion to be taken by the new droid.
Minutes passed, a lot of them, your anxiety humming as you kept your head on a swivel to catch any warning signs of an ambush, of any swarms of soldiers erupting from within the tunnels sparse openings and out into the underground one that the river flowed through.
The skittering of small rodent like creatures along the shoreline caught your attention, more than a few of them pausing in their activity to gaze at you as the speeder past by. They were cute and ad’ika seemed to agree as he raised his claws from within the bag and waved at them. They chittered at him before moving on, unsure of what to make of the odd sight of your group traveling downstream.
“That’s it! We’re free!”
“No, we’re not.” A gloved hand pressed to the side of his helmet, displaying a view for Din that he described for everyone else. “Stormtroopers. They’re flanking the mouth of the tunnel. It looks like an entire platoon. They must know we’re coming.”
“They were ordered there to prevent us from escaping, even if we didn’t take this route. Moff Gideon wouldn’t chance it.” It had to have been him ensuring he didn’t lose you to the wilds of the planet, the landscape endless and easy to secure a hideaway. With the sun setting in mere hours, you could be lost for the night, enough time for your group to figure out a way off world.
Commanding the droid to stop the speeder from traveling down river was fruitless. It merely chirped and beeped, not heeding the sudden flux of words aimed at it. When it didn’t seem to understand anything, Karga fired on it. But that didn’t seem to stop the momentum of the speeder, now floating of its own accord toward the mouth of the tunnel, toward the sunlight and waiting ambush.
“We’re still moving.”
“Looks like we fight.”
“There are too many.”
“Then what do you suggest? Cause I can’t surrender.” Cara hissed, setting the bag down atop a seat in the bed of the speeder. Ad’ika gurgled, hands reaching up for someone, anyone to pick him back up. You were about to reach for him when IG-11 stepped forward to take him in its arms again.
“They will not be satisfied with anything less than the child and the Sith.”
“Not a Sith.” You hissed out, pinning the droid with a glare, lava spouting up around the speeder. Some of it splattered up against the side of the vehicle, the metal steaming as it melted under the contact.
“Apologies, I was inferring from-“
“You inferred wrong.”
“Understood. This is unacceptable. I will eliminate the enemy and you will escape.”
“You don’t have that kind of firepower, pal. You wouldn’t even get to daylight.” Din was quick to put a pin in that idea, not willing to give up the extra set of hands.
“That is not my objective.”
“We’re getting close. Saddle up.” Karga pointed towards the entrance mere yards away now.
“I still have the security protocols from my manufacturer. If my designs are compromised, I must self-destruct.”
“What are you talking about?” Confusion in his tone, Din faced the droid head on, trying to understand exactly the point it was trying to make.
“I am not permitted to be captured. I must be destroyed.”
“Are we gonna keep talking, or get out of here?”
“I can no longer carry this for you. Nor can I watch over the child.” IG-11 reached down to hand ad’ika over to Din, the armored man taking the bag with steady arms. Quiet thuds of tiny hands against his cuirass displayed the child’s delight.
“Wait. You can’t self-destruct. Your base command is to watch the child. That supersedes your manufacturer’s protocol, right?”
A pause.
“That is correct.”
“Good. Now grab a blaster and help us shoot our way out.”
“Victory through combat is impossible. We will be captured. The child will be lost. The woman will be lost.” IG-11 began to cross the width of the speeders bay, toward the right side of the vehicle. “Sadly, there is no scenario where the child is saved, in which I survive.”
“Listen, you’re not going anywhere. We need you. Let’s just come up with a…” Din’s words trailed off, no other solution coming to mind for him to voice.
“Please tell me the child will be safe in your care.” Head turned toward the armored man, waiting for confirmation. “If you do so, I can default to my secondary command.”
“But you’ll be destroyed.”
“And you will live, and I will have served my purpose.”
“No,” He sounded almost…remorseful. You could feel the conflicting emotions wafting from him, read it in the stance he had, the way his shoulders were set. “We need you.”
“There’s nothing to be sad about. I have never been alive.”
“I’m not…sad.” Din argued weakly.
“Yes, you are. I’m a nurse droid. I’ve analyzed your voice.”
IG-11 reached out a hand and caressed the tip of ad’ika’s ear in a parting gesture.
“What’re you doing?” Karga demanded as you all watched the droid step out from the deck of the speeder and down into the slow-moving river. The metal of its legs hissing at the sudden barrage of temperature. The mechanics tried to hold out as it trudged forward, flames licking up the sides slowly.
A pulsating alarm began to beep, a chasm in the chest piece opening up the second IG-11 was outside the mouth of the tunnel. A blinding explosion erupting seconds later. The screams of the waiting soldiers hurt your ears, the flash bright even behind shielded eyes. The speeder continued on, moving through the cloud of smoke and ash that lingered in the air.
The bodies of the dead soldiers were scattered and you tamped down a flood of memories from the last time you had been at the sight of such a directed attack on them.
There was no time to revel in the defeat, the screeching of a TIE fighter hurtling through the air and right at your groups position. Moff Gideon not giving up even in the face of losing another faction under his command. Cara and Din raised their blasters, prepared to shoot his ship from the air. It was not a match for the focused fire he laid down as the ship swooped low, though no hits landed directly over you.
“He missed!” Cara shouted out, hope coloring her words.
“He won’t next time.” You spoke evenly, wanting them to understand the situation at hand. The only way this was going to end was with someone’s death. Be it one of yours, all of yours, or Gideon’s. The conflict would drone on until the threat was eradicated, you just hoped that your side was the one that came out victorious.
“Our blasters are useless against him.”
“Hey, let’s make the baby do the magic hand thing. Come on, baby! Do the magic hand thing.” Karga waved his hand frantically in the air, prompting ad’ika to follow his command. But all the child did was wave back at him, cooing all the while with a curious expression.
“He doesn’t have that type of control.” You reasoned, not wanting to rely on ad’ika’s powers when thwarting the flame thrower had taken so much from him.
“He did it back in the cantina!” Karga argued, brow furrowed at his lack of understanding the nuances of something that could really help in their favor.
“He was emulating me, he doesn’t really have an understanding of harnessing his powers like that.”
“Give him some credit, jeez.”
“He needs to rest, he’s overwhelmed!”
“Then I’m out of ideas. If you refuse to use it yourself.”
“I never said I refused, I need a clean line of sight.” You looked over your shoulder, worried for ad’ika as he cried out at the heightened emotions between all four of you. You leaned down to rub a hand over his small back, ensuring he was snug in the bag. You tried to push a good feeling through the connection, wanting to comfort him in any way. A strike of pain rained down from the crown of your head and ad’ika’s small claws dug into the front of your tank top.
“I’m not out of ideas.” Din interrupted your harmless bickering, something in his town making you turn to him fully.
“Here he comes!” Distant roaring signaled that the ship was maneuvering and about to return.
Din set his blaster back in the holster on his hip. Reaching down with a grunt of effort to lift up the jetpack that had just been gifted to him, confirming your suspicions. There was no way he was healed enough to maneuver through the air with it, that he could pick it up so quickly and focus with his head having been cracked open. The phantom feel of his blood thick on your hands making you shake them out.
“She said to wait until you were healed!” You rushed forward and cupped your hands over his shoulders, hoping a gentle touch would help to convince him not to go through with what he was thinking. Urging him to listen, to consider that it was too much of a risk that he didn’t need to take. “You’ll injure yourself further, it’s not the only option.”
“It’s what we’ve got right now.” He reasoned calmly, chest heaving with deep breaths as he tried to move about like normal. He was feeling the weight of his full armor, you suspected, the jet pack adding to the struggle to keep up and focus.
The ship swooped low, too close for comfort, firing out in a wide line around the river’s edge. With a shout you stretched your arms out, the ship pivoting heavily to the right. The unexpected movement caused the remaining blasts to hit along the mouth of the tunnel. Deep rumbling signaled the collapse of the tunnels inside, the support of the opening damaged, sheets of broken rock crumbling into the river as the natural structure dissolved.
While you had turned your attention from him, Din had successfully docked the jet pack into the back panel of his armor. Eyes roving over the sight of him completely pieced together, you felt your heart skip a beat. Admiring the image he created against the expansive landscape, armor glinting in the lowering sun in a beautiful way.
And you couldn’t lose him. You wouldn’t.
Recovering from the manipulation, the TIE fighter was soaring directly toward you. Din was standing at the front of the speeder, stepped up on the lip of the vehicle. The engines on the TIE fighter lit up, whirring as they settled on their target. Din’s broad silhouette backed by the incoming threat sent chills down your spine. You blinked rapidly, his figure morphing into the image of a taller man, adorned in a deep blue armor instead of his pure beskar. The explosion of the shots along the ground as the ship neared shook the ground, dirt and pieces of the volcanic rock rising up high into the air. At the last second, before the shot inevitably hit the vehicle, Din bent his knees.
Without a look back at you, he took off into the air.
A cable flew from his vambrace at clicked onto the top of the ship, whipping the man forward as it surged past. You cringed, worry for his head flooding you. If he were to lose consciousness that high up in the air, got tossed off the ship….
You could only watch with the breath stolen from your lungs as he was whipped around, unable to gather his bearings. But he did, finally, jetpack sparking to life, and he grappled a desperate hold onto the body of the ship.
It suddenly began to spiral, controlled surely by a concerned Gideon. You gasped out, hands coming up to your mouth as you watched the body of armor crash into the wings of the ship, scrabbling to keep hold and not get tossed off.
“He’ll be okay, cyar’ika. We have to have faith in him.”
She had spoken a moment too soon because his body was flung from the ship, hurling through the air without a tether.
“No!” Voice hoarse, you scrambled over the errant items inside the space of the speeder. You jumped from the bed of the vehicle, onto the rocky shore of the river and began to sprint. Halting a few yards into the vast landscape, you held both your arms out and focused on the sight of a falling Din. The speed of his fall slowed, allowing him to swivel his head to take in the sight of you so far down below trying to aid him.
His arms flailed as he tried to help align himself as he tumbled through the air, thankful you were doing what you could to slow his rapid descent. As the TIE fighter lost a wing to a sudden explosion, flames and black smoke billowing up, did Din finally manage to engage his jetpack. As soon as he landed clumsily on the ground beside you, grunting at the force of the landing on his body, the ship crashed to the ground just beyond the small crest of a ridge.
Not even a second passed before you were rushing off toward it. Passing by Din with a focus he had only seen when you were in battle. Brows furrowed and eyes alight. Your name being shouted behind you as your legs carried you as fast as you could. You could faintly hear the scuffle between Cara and Din, her catching him as he tried to follow after you, warning him to be careful and that you could take care of yourself. That he had to trust in you that you wouldn’t go too far.
You panted, feeling immeasurable power surge through you. But it wasn’t the pure side of the Force you typically harnessed.
“That was impressive, Mando. Very Impressive.” Karga praised as he approached them. Din had convinced Cara he wouldn’t run after you, allowing her to focus on the child in her grip. Small claws reaching out for the armored man. Extending a shaking hand out, Din allowed the child to grip his gloved fingers.
“It looks like your Guild rates have just gone up. And Sarad’s set at an exceptional rate for a newcomer should she be interested.”
“I can’t speak on her behalf.” He gazed out at the landscape, in the direction of the ridge. He could make out with the help of his helmet, that you had just scaled the top of it, disappearing on the other side. You were upon the crash of the ship.
“Let’s get this speeder running, we can pick her up on the way back to the city.” Cara suggested, not wanting to leave you out in the plains along for too long. Agreement rang out, and they all loaded back up into the vehicle, Din slumping into a seat.
“Let’s go get your girl, Mando.”
“She’s not a possession.” Din hissed out, annoyance flaring.
“Oh, you know what I mean. Don’t read into the phrasing.”
The speeder was slow, mechanics lagging from being exposed to the heat of the river for so long.
Silence tense as it trudged across the open land.
“Her saber turned red.”
Din remained silent, not wanting to delve into speculation over what it meant.
The others seemed to understand that it wasn’t their place, even if they were simply showing concern for your wellbeing.
“You have no control!” You swung your saber, the hum of it lowering in pitch as you cut into the shoulder of the man beginning to crawl through the broken glass of the ship’s viewpoint. The body of it was smoldering, flames licking over the expanse of it, the result of the charges Din had managed to fasten to it.
“You’re weak. You will always be weak. That’s why the pull to the dark side is so strong in you. It can sense that you need guidance, that you need control. And it will take everything from you as it transforms you in its image.” Gideon huffed out, surging forward despite the blood seeping into the fabric of his clothing.
“You’ll fall to it, you’ll give into it with no one to guide you. And you’ll turn that innocent, unsuspecting child in your image. You will experience nothing else, only darkness and destruction and the death of those around you.”
He tore himself out of the debris, standing to his full height and engaging a blade that hummed in much the same way as your lightsaber. It was lined like a true blade, black that gave way to bright white of a kyber crystal housed in the handle.
It stopped you in your tracks. The bright glow of it captivating you, whispers seeping from it and tickling your mind. So distracted as you were, you could only step back with each approaching one of his. Your own weapon hanging low at your side, crackling in a response to the enchanting blade in the man’s hand.
“Couldn’t save your beloved guardian and you’re not going to be able to save your delusional Mandalorian now. I will have his head if it’s the last thing I do. I will have the head of your precious child if it’s the last thing I do. They will die, they will both fall. You won’t be able to save the man you love. Again. It means more to me than anything to bring them down and take what I want from your lifeless bodies.”
You exhaled heavily as you plunged your saber out. The harsh crack of the blades connecting echoed across the plains. You merely blocked his attacks, gauging his style and still too enamored by the twin pulls of the dark tendrils wrapping around your ankles and that of the weapon in the man’s possession. When it glided across the armor you had been gifted, you snapped out of your defensive reverie, teeth gritting as you returned the gesture.
He grunted when you sliced into his shoulder a second time, arm going limp at his side as the blade cut into the space between his own armor that allowed for movement. His eyes widened as he realized you weren’t going to succumb to the energy wafting from you, that it wasn’t overpowering you in the way that he had anticipated, that he had seen before as you struggled against it. Unwilling to succumb to the pull of it, the almost sentient energy. You were harnessing it. And he allowed a smirk to pull at his lips.
“So predictable, dear San.” He pressed forward, holding his useless arm to his side. Taking the injury in stride if it meant that you were crumbling. “Falling into the same traps time and time again. So easily manipulated. When will you learn that there is nothing more for you than the title of a Sith?”
Your blade crackled, gaining intensity to its glow, white tinted at the base of it. The red seeping into the entire thing, casting your face in the light.
“There is no love for someone like you. Not of a parent, not of a guardian, not that of a partner. You were born to this, the rise to power with the dark side. Nothing else will come to you, your foolish Mandalorian will see your true nature soon enough and abandon you. His history suggests he only cares about his people, his Creed. What could he possibly want from you, so steeped in emotion and vulnerability.”
Swiping at his feet, he stumbled, cape fluttering as tried to catch himself on his knees. But you were throwing him toward the rubble of the ship with an outstretched hand. He could do nothing as he felt the energy wrap itself around him and command his body as if it was its own. He cried out as the broken metal of the frame bit into his back. The snap of his armor against it was loud. Gasping suddenly as he couldn’t breathe in, the air stolen from his very lungs.
Wide eyes turned to you, hand clenched in a fist as you constricted his airways. Watching with an unnerving calmness as the blood vessels in his eyes began to bleed, the veins in his neck began to bulge, his dark skin taking on a ruddy tone as he struggled.
With heaving breaths, you dismantled the TIE fighter down with your saber until it was nothing but a pile of smoldering metal and broken glass. Barricading the man inside.
Just as you began to distance yourself from the ship, the speeder from the river appeared over the ridge, moving toward you. Sighing, you waited for it to stop at the bottom before trudging on. Not risking it getting too close to the flames and smoke of the TIE fighters remains.
“You should get checked out, ad’ika too.” Your words were flat as you approached the group of them alongside the speeder. Din was leaning heavily against the side of it, helmet slumped, the bottom of it resting on his cuirass. Everyone perked up at the scuff of your approaching form.
“No.” Breathless, he could barely get the word out though it sounded strong to your ears through the modulator. The mechanics hiding the way his expression was pinched and his eyes were blinking rapidly against the pain reverberating through his entire body. You could sense his discomfort, the way his heart was beating irregularly, attuned to him in such a personal way enhanced through the pulse of dark energy flowing through you still.
You sighed, frustration building up at the recollection of how he could barely move mere hours ago and his refusal to let you try to heal him. Gideon’s confident words echoing in your head, incessantly.
“I’m not letting you fly without medical clearance.”
“Let me?” His helmet rounded on you, surprise through the modulator. The glint of the sun on the visor mirrored how his eyes did so underneath as he pushed away from the side of the vehicle. “I’m a grown man.”
“Yes.”
“All I need to do is get back to the ship.”
“Then you’ll go alone.”
“…you’re staying behind?” Hesitancy clear through the modulator. His back was to you, having turned to take in the smoking pile of what was once the TIE fighter in the distance.
“To help them free the city, yes. To ensure everyone is safe. To get supplies and more bacta for you. Whatever else we may need to combat your injuries.” You softened, features displaying the exhaustion weighing you down. Your hands were fiddling with the pendant he had given you, the shine of the beskar in the sunlight bright between your fingers. “I…I would really appreciate it if you humored me and got a scan done at the med center. Just…just so we know what’s wrong and how to heal it.”
“I’m fine.”
“But I’m not.” He whirled around quickly, too quickly, his footing unbalanced at the motion, and he stumbled. The question of what was wrong on the tip of his tongue when you trained your shining eyes on his visor. “Din, I- I need to know you’re okay. Truly okay. Please.”
He turned back around, unable to take in the sight of the earnest concerns falling from your lips, the tears threatening to fall.
He didn’t take his gaze from the distant crash sight, helmet overlooking the scene through different lenses, ensuring that the threat was truly eradicated.
“I can’t look after you if you don’t let me. And before you say it’s not my job, Din, it is. You made it so when you announced your intentions to court me with the Armorer.”
“You think I have regrets in doing so?” Timbre of his voice low, a warning in his tone that sent alarm bells ringing in your head. The first real conflict between you both, weighing heavily in the tense air.
“No.” Was your immediate answer, truth behind the word though it was spoken in a tight voice.
“Do you?”
“No! I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s it, I’m not…I’m not trying to do anything except for that but if you think I’m trying to get your kriffing helmet off so I can see you when you’ve explicitly told me you didn’t want to and I know the customs then then-“ You scrambled to remove the beskar fastened around your shoulders and thrust it into his chest. You hadn’t even wanted to say those things, furl the accusation at him along with the armor, but something compelled you to. Anger striking harshly and taking hold. Manipulating you into succumbing to it, the feeling of a pit opening inside your mind. Dark and beckoning. He swayed back with the force of it pressed to him, modulator crackling as he realized you were completely serious. “Maybe we were foolish to entertain the thought. Leave. Just go, Din.”
“Mesh’la-“ His knuckles popped as he held the armor in his hands, wound as tight as he could ever remember, a thrumming low in his head that was steadily gaining momentum and making it hard to focus. He could feel the energy flowing from you, see it in the twitching of your muscles and the lack of control you seemed to have over your words. It was unlike you, to raise your voice, to be so unwilling to hear him out, to take his words into account. He was trying his best to keep up but he wasn’t handling it well, he knew that. He…he felt so nauseas and dizzy and he just wanted to rest.
“I have a name.”
“San, I didn’t- I don’t think that. I did not say that, do not put words in my mouth.”
“Well, you’re not exactly saying anything now are you!”
“Because I don’t have anything to say! It’s been a long day and I just want to return to the ship.”
“I think maybe we should all just- not calm down!” Cara rushed to say at the heated looks her way. The intensity of them unnerving her. “Not calm down but put a pin in this and get back to the city.”
“Fine with me.”
“I’ll meet you back at the Crest.”
Din took a few steps away from the speeder, preparing to take off with the aid of his jetpack once again.
He paused as you gasped out, trembling hands causing you to lose your hold on the speeders edge as you tried to climb in. Clenching his eyes tight and taking a deep breath, he walked back toward you. His hands didn’t linger when he helped you board this time, taking a seat at the back bench and facing out toward the plains.
When you sat down on the other side of the bench, he slowly moved to fasten the armor back to your shoulders. He silently thanked the Maker that you allowed him to do it, allowed him to fasten his signet back onto you. He wasn’t one for outward expressions but it eased his heart that you still wanted to display in even in the wake of an argument. The gravity of you choosing to wear something that signified him was not lost on him, words of a time past where you had cried out that you would never submit to anyone again echoing in his mind as the speeder traveled on.
“Are you going to talk to me?” You knew you should give him some space, give him time to process the events of the day. To rest and feel more like himself. But you couldn’t help it, couldn’t fight the push to confront him, emotions a whirlwind inside your chest. Dark pit opened up right in the middle and tainting everything that you were. You watched on as if you weren’t in your own body, as you continued to push the man’s buttons until you both snapped.
The silence was heavy, his shoulders tight underneath his armor, hands busy searching for something within the panels making up the walls. For what, you weren’t sure. He had been silent the entire walk back to the ship, to where you had moved to closer to the entrance of the city while he underwent a general scan to ensure his injuries would heal completely. It had taken a lot of convincing, and he hadn’t been too happy with the way you begged him. Though he knew you hadn’t done so to intentionally manipulate him. You were just concerned.
It was just that he was accustomed to dealing with injuries on his own. Returning to the covert for serious things he needed help with. The migraine building in strength overwhelming him in the worst way paired with your insistence on sticking around for the rest of the day irking him. He knew it was unjustified, that he should find it endearing that you cared so much about the city and those within it, but he wanted nothing more than to retire to his personal space and put as much distance between the planet and himself as possible.
“Din, your skull was cracked open. You-your brain was exposed, and you wanted me to leave you there to die alone!”
“I didn’t want you to see it, to have to go through that, to carry that with you!” He turned sharply, voice a rumble as he realized there was no getting out of this conversation. He had hoped you wouldn’t bring it up so immediately, that you would approach him in a calmer manner when you could sense he was willing to talk.
This was unlike you. To yell and holler, to berate him with accusations. You were scared, he realized. And the dark pull of the Force was making you lash out. His actions had scared you beyond comprehension and control, you didn’t know how to cope with that chasm opened up in your psyche to allow for the tendrils to spark to life and the pit to open up. He didn’t fault you, though he did have an issue with the way you insisted on confrontation.
Emotions too bold overcoming him as he paired them with the words you had whispered to him as he lay dying in the rumble just hours ago.
“That’s not your choice to make!”
“I am not arguing about this!” He snapped, unable to quell the urge to match your volume.
“Too bad! You don’t get a say in that either!! You have to talk to me, please, just…help me understand.”
“You know the Creed, you know it’s an honor to die in battle. If I was willing to give up my life, it’s not your place to tell me otherwise.”
“Din, I could’ve healed you, I could’ve tried. I could’ve saved you.” You weren’t crying, body too worked up for even that, hurt and fear twisted into an ugly thing and making you something you weren’t.
They will die, they will both fall. You won’t be able to save the man you love. Again.
“I was ready to die.” He didn’t break the gaze he had on you, reading the emotions flitting across your face. “I was ready to die for you both to get to safety, for all of you to make an escape.”
“So you’re allowed to sacrifice yourself for me but I can’t do the same? That’s bullshit and you know it. Not allowing me to take on what I could’ve so you could live another day doesn’t warrant even a conversation?”
Anxiety was like a layer too tight skin over your entire body, making it hard to take in a full breath, to concentrate past the throbbing of your head.
“I could’ve saved you.” You repeated, lips pulled down in a frown, trying to keep the tears at bay, the trembling of your lips prone to give you away. “You-you said you loved me and then wanted to die. I could’ve saved you. I could’ve, I couldn’t, I-I-“
All of your breath left you in a sudden gasp and your words cut off as you snapped your mouth shut, teeth clacking with the motion. You tried to breathe in through your nose, but a wave of nausea overtook you and you clamped a hand over your mouth. The lingering scent of sulfur twisting your stomach. It was an ill-timed realization paired with how suddenly acutely aware of how intense you were being, how overwhelmed you were on already shot nerves. That it was the dark pit pulling you inward, inch by inch, dark temptations reaching out and wrapping around more and more of your legs while you could do nothing to fight it.
“Mesh’la…”
“I need a minute, please, just…give me a fucking minute!” You shouted, flinging out a hand toward the approaching shadow. Toward the rampage of memories plaguing you. Your voice raw as it tore through your throat. There was a sharp clang of metal on metal, but your mind was overrun by the barrage of screams and pleas overtaking your ears. The hum of your blade as it shown red all around you, reflecting in the dead eyes and on the metal walls of the ship you had destroyed in your grief. Of the wreckage caused by the crash, bathed in the sickly color.
Red, red, red. It was everywhere, all over the walls, all over your hands, your clothes, the warm feeling of it saturating you and seeping into your skin. The sight of it burned into the very synapses of your mind, pooled underneath the body of a man you loved, pooled underneath the body of a man you were in love with. Your ears began to ring, all sound muffled.
Nothing else will come to you, your foolish Mandalorian will see your true nature soon enough and abandon you. His history suggests he only cares about his people, his Creed.
Your chest hurt, heart stuttering as it tried to regulate itself in the wake of your hitching breath, unable to take a full one and calm down. The world tilted on its axis, and you went with it. Falling physically to the ground, mentally down into the void taking over more of your psyche until it was all you knew. Vision blacking out. As it did, the entire ship lurched. It took a moment for the mechanical software programmed into the ship to correct the trajectory.
All Din could do was watch as your unconscious form fell from where you had flung him across the hold, body pinned to the wall as your mind broke in a way he had been trying to prevent. Everything fastened to the walls and the panel covers had been vibrating with the force of your words and emotions, harnessing the Force unconsciously as you tried to confront him. As soon as your body hit the durasteel floor, muscles going loose did the hold you have on him diminish and everything went still.
He slumped down, backside hitting the ground, body aching all over.
It was only a moment until one of the engines began to spark then groaned. The ship lurched again, alarms beeping, lights flickering, spurring him into action. Din rushed up to the control room, remorse for having to leave you unconscious on the floor of the hold.
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Hi! How about a good old hurt/comfort whump type prompt like a "this is gonna hurt" or the more fluffy "hey, don't look at that. Look at me". Maybe with Boba Fett or Mando.
Din Djarin x Reader | 1.9k words
Content: Hurt/Comfort, detailed descriptions of pain and injuries, a lil fluff toward the end
Pain, unlike any you'd ever felt before, radiating from the point of impact throughout the rest of your body. That was all you could think about as you lay on the ground, blinking up at the stars and holding on to whatever may be left of your life.
Neither of you had seen the ambush coming, which made your efforts to fight against it that much more chaotic. Din was a trained and skilled fighter, and even he had been struggling. You, whose abilities paled in comparison, had stood no chance. You ran as soon as he told you to, and then within the blink of an eye, you found yourself flat on your back wondering whether death may be the better option.
It was impossible to tell how long you lay there... writhing, sweating, praying. You couldn't even scream, let alone comprehend the passage of time. Even one second of this pain was far too long. When he finally came, you swore you'd aged years.
"Stay with me..."
"Hang in there..."
He repeated himself over and over. Or perhaps your delirious mind was replaying his words over and over. You weren't sure how you suddenly ended up inside of a cave. You preferred the view with the stars, to be honest.
"Din," you croaked out through cracked lips.
You knew was around somewhere; you could feel him in the air that gently moved around you. But it was hard to tell if he was tending to you in any particular way as your whole body radiated. Pain, pressure, heat... it swirled in and out with your vision, your consciousness.
"This is gonna hurt," you heard him say at some point and it almost made you laugh. Hurt. You were well past hurt now, Djarin.
And then the pain got worse. Thank the stars you hadn't actually laughed.
Where before it felt like your body was expanding with hot, heavy air, now it was like an electric bolt was slithering from your leg across every other appendage. You could taste it. There were sparks in your eyes. Whatever Din was trying to do to help, it only seemed to be making it worse.
You must have blacked out. You were opening your eyes again but couldn't remember ever closing them. You felt weaker. The pain was still there, but it felt... hidden? Like someone had thrown a blanket over it, trying to hide it from sight. It was as if your body had decided it could no longer feel something that intense again.
You risked using what energy you had to lift your head. You wanted to see the damage, what all the fuss was about. It was your right leg, gnarled and twisted in a bloody mess. There was blood all over the ground surrounding you, definitely more than should be outside of your body. No wonder you felt so tired.
"What the hell..." you breathed out in shock.
Din was by your leg, alternating between work on some kind of split and adding stitches to keep the blood at bay. As soon as you moved, he immediately shifted over to get you to lay back down.
"Hey, don't look at that. Look at me."
You did, and there was something off about what you were seeing. Din's large brown eyes met yours, full of a sort of strained determination, a warrior's hope that if he just pushed a little more, a little harder, the fight would soon be won. His hair was matted to his head in a sheen of sweat, and flecks of blood - likely yours - highlighted one side of his jaw. It would have been a little hot in any other circumstances. You'd always wondered if he ever looked more haggard than the cool and collected beskar helmet ever let on...
And that's when it hit you. He didn't have his helmet on.
"I just have a few stitches left," he was saying, voice completely unfiltered. "And then I can tighten the splint and that should keep your leg stable enough to travel. The bone will take a long time to reset, but if we can make it to the ship, I can get you somewhere safe where you can heal in peace. I just need you to stay strong a little while longer."
You didn't hear a single word he said. He had a hand clasped under your neck, his thumb brushing soothingly just by your ear. His eyes were so beautiful. They pleaded with you to stay awake, to keep looking.
You were dreaming.
You must be dreaming.
You were unconscious, pulled into an unknown state of being where your mind conjured up pleasant, wonderful images to keep the pain at bay, to keep you alive and sane. That's all this was. Din would never remove his helmet, not even for you.
"Stay strong," he said, squeezing the back of your head just enough to be reassuring. "I promise I'll get you out of here."
Those beautiful brown eyes disappeared and you were faintly aware of the pain starting up again in your leg, but you didn't care. So what if it was a dream. Gods, what a thing to dream of. You clung to the image and let yourself drift away with it peacefully....
* * *
It was strange, all the different ways one could feel pain. Sometimes sharp, sometimes dull. Sometimes hot, sometimes cold.
The pain you felt when you woke again was definitely on the colder, number side, at least so long as you continued to lie still. It sucked, but it was a relief from what you'd endured before. Any movement that affected your general hip and leg areas, though, brought those sharp, prickly stings. So you did your best to limit your movements.
The view you had now was of the Razor Crest ceiling. You didn't remember the journey here at all. How had Din even managed? You shifted your hands a little. They were set at your sides and glided along familiar patterns of fabric, your own blankets. He had moved your cot out into the main hull, probably to better tend to you as needed.
Next, you tried testing your voice. You assumed Din would be up in the cockpit, trying to find a medical facility to take you to for better care. But something within you yearned to have him closer, to know you were not alone in this, that everything would be okay.
You could get out a few croaks, garbled groans that didn't resemble any known language. But that was all it took anyway. Din had been right there, just outside your field of vision. He came into view at your call.
He had his helmet on.
"Hey, it's okay, it's okay," he was quick to reassure. A gloved hand laid gently on your shoulder but it didn't squeeze, no fingers caressed.
So maybe you had dreaming after all.
You felt a little disappointed, but that quickly passed now that you simply had him here with you again.
He brought some water up to your lips and helped you drink from it. You winced a few times as you lifted your head and jostled your spine, and therefore your hips and leg. But it was worth getting some hydration and helping bring back your voice.
"What the hell even happened," you managed to string together some words after you finished and settled back down.
Din's helmet just shook slowly, like he couldn't even comprehend the events. "It was all my fault. I--"
"Don't you dare say you should've seen them coming," you warned, knowing how he got with things like this. "And I wasn't asking about the ambush. What the hell happened to my leg?"
"Speeder bike. Caught you right in your side, fractured your femur. Worst bone to break. You're stable now but you'll have a long recovery time."
"Lucky me," you sighed.
"You lost a lot of blood, too," he added.
"Well, at least I'm alive," you offered, mostly to be dramatic. But a cock of his helmet and you knew those words carried much more weight.
"Yeah," he agreed somberly. "It was bad. I was... worried, for a while."
You didn't know what to say to that. If anything, you wished you could be the one to come to his side and provide him with comfort and healing. This whole situation was messed up.
Din sat back down beside you and you did your best to shift your head and keep him in view. He had his hands resting on the edge of the cot and his helmet was trained on them in thought.
"Do you... remember anything?" he asked timidly after a few moments.
You immediately remembered his face. The line of stubble along his upper lip. How his hair curled slightly along his temple. Those big, beautiful brown eyes....
"Bits and pieces," you responded.
"Anything in particular?"
Now you were wondering if maybe it hadn't been a dream after all. He was acting like he didn't want to get caught for something.
"You really want me to revisit my trauma so soon, Djarin?" you teased.
"No, no, of course not," he quickly backpedaled and you both fell into an awkward silence for a minute.
You finally decided to pry a little further "...Why?"
"No reason."
"Hm." He wasn't giving you much to go off of. This was getting silly. "Well, come to think of it, I do remember something... odd..."
"Oh?"
His hand gripped the blanket anxiously next to you. You looked at his helmet and desperately wished you could see beyond it, to see how he felt so you could know what he wanted.
Oh but who were you kidding? You knew him well, just as he did you. You knew exactly what those eyes would be pleading for you to say, because you knew what was important to him. So you put him out of his misery.
"But you know, it's all so fuzzy. I was probably just hallucinating."
You slid your hand across to rest against his and gave it a short squeeze. He visibly relaxed and that made you just as happy as it would have been to hear him admit what had really happened.
"Okay, good. Um, I mean, that's... that's normal. You were in and out of it a lot."
Din let out a nervous breath but then gently twisted his hand around to hold yours properly.
"Were you really worried about me?" you asked.
He nodded his head slowly. "Yeah... yeah, I was."
You gave a comforting little smile and squeezed his hand again. "Well, thank you, for being there for me. And being here now."
"Of course. This is the way."
Normally you would've rolled your eyes at that, but now it was reassuring. Encouraging, even. In some ways, it symbolized a bond between you that you'd wondered would ever come. You'd been traveling together long enough, fighting together and dining together and making decisions together. Now you were helping each other live. He'd gotten you out of a firefight, pieced you back together, hefted you unconscious across a forest. And now he was staying, right here, right beside you, for no other reason than because he could.
And maybe, just maybe, he had given a little part of himself to you, too. Maybe on accident, sure, but meaningful nonetheless. You would hold that piece of him close to your heart, and keep it safe there for as long as you continued to live.
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