#mythosaur oc

[mythosaursarecool]

Taking shelter from a sudden downpour

Grogu is having fun playing in the mud (:

[creature-beast]

Did an art trade with @mythosaursarecool

Here's my half! It's their mytho oc zooming after a speeder who's probably about to have a heart attack lol

This was so fun to draw I love this design so much and just how big these guys are!!

[ashnoxblackstar]

Artist Credit: Kurt Ian Ferrer - Check out more of his fantastic art on IG or ArtStation!

SWTOR: Spoils of War

Volume I - Interlude: (Late 3642-3641 BBY) While hunting for historical research in Imperial space, Stev Makow and the crew of the Peer Review are offered a chance to wipe away her mounting debt… But she’ll have to go head-to-head with the Imperial Reclamation service. An anthology filled with tales of dark visions, corporate espionage, and wayward warriors while the Galaxy stands on the brink of chaos. SWTOR: Spoils of War has an official cover, pulled from the final one shot! The anthology is set between the events of Ascension and Liberation, diving into different corners of the Galaxy.

Full fic is over on AO3!

[hellhound5925]

Alrighty, so as I have mentioned before, I am switching gears to write a Mandalorian fic. I have finished what I’m calling the Prologue for now (idk if I really like that) but its a little story from a time before the actual fic itself takes place. I hope you enjoy! There will be plenty more Din/Raven where this came from and don’t worry I’ll still write for Hunter from time to time!

Welcome to,

Cyare Verd *Beloved Warrior* The Mandalorian Edition (I know, I know, I’m not original but I suck at titles)

Prologue - The Encounter

Summary:

This is setting up a little backstory for the beginning of my new fic. There will be fun mood boards for each chapter created my both myself and my wonder friend @lune-de-miel-au-paradis who is hella talented! (Thanks girl 💖) I hope you enjoy and be on the look out for Chapters going forward! If this is something you would like to be tagged in please drop a comment, send me an ask, send a message, whatever fits your fancy 😊 I promise I’ll shut up and we get right to it!

Warnings:

Always gunna put 18+, violence and thats bout it for now. Smut will be in the actually fic itself but I’ll post the warning accordingly. Also, If I miss something I’m sorry, I’m not very good at warnings 😅 There will be Mando’a but ya girl always provides a translation so have no fear.

————

The entire time I've been looking for this bounty, someone else is a few steps behind me. How do I know? Well I backtracked and paid a bar keep to get ahold of me with any information about someone asking about the individual I had. The Twi-Lek contacted me only hours later with a description. She sounded worried but not for me when she said "All I know is he looked just like you." Two Mandalorians hunting the same bounty? Strange but not completely out of the ordinary. I mean a lot of our people resorted to bounty hunting, with our skill sets and love for getting into fights makes us the best at the job. I decided I would make my way back and tail him for a bit, seeing if he took the bait. Thanks to my cunning wit he did.

    This must be the one the barkeep was talking about - I think to myself. A Mandalorian man walks a few paces ahead of me covered in mismatched pieces of armor topped off with a shiny chrome helmet. I chuckle to myself, knowing that because of my cloak he won't know who or what I am. He stops momentarily like he's aware of my presence but little does he know, I'm a master of hiding in the shadows. Spinning around on his heel he walks my direction, hand hovering over his side arm. I take the opportunity to slip further into the dark, down an alley. He stops in almost the exact spot I was only moments ago. Now that he's closer I can now get a good look at his stature, he's taller than me and definitely more muscular.

    His shiny helmeted head slowly looks my way down the alley - so he's smart...I'll give him that. Taking a few cautious steps, he makes his way towards me. I climb up onto the rooftop of the short building next to me. He should paint that armor, he sticks out like a Bantha in the ocean of sand on Tatooine. Smirking to myself I wait until he is directly below me before clearing my throat. He immediately looks up, drawing his blaster taking a shot at me. Crossing both vambraces in front of me, the bolt pings off my armor, breaking the cold dark silence of the night with a loud crack.

    As if time stood still, I jump down in front of him and one hand connects with the elbow of his outstretched arm causing it to bend, pointing his blaster away from me. Using my other hand, I free the blaster from his grip sending it somewhere into the shadows. He counters with a left hook which passes over my head as I duck, rolling back into the shadows. He loses track of me and frantically spins around preparing for my next move.

    I slink around him in the darkness just out of his view, like a predator circling its prey. He reaches up in a slow careful movement, for his vambrace likely to change the setting on his HUD - I would do the same. To stop him, I crouch and in one swift movement of my foot I catch his ankle, pulling hard, and sending him to the ground face first with a grunt. Standing to my full height, I can't help the chuckle that escapes watching the large man hit the ground by my hand...or foot.

    His head snaps in my direction and I'm immediately full of regret. Using his whip cord, he grabs my leg pulling me flat on my back into the light. I hit the ground so hard it knocked the wind out of me. Next thing I know, he's standing over me staring down at me through his visor. His body language shifts and I realize why, my hood fell while I was being pulled to the ground exposing my helmeted head. Slamming my fist and throwing my head back on the ground, a string of curses in Mando'a leave my lips. When I pick my head back up, he is still standing there staring down at me, the T-snapped visor is almost menacing at this angle.

"You could at least help a girl up" my sassy tone, exaggerated by my helmets modulator.

    He offers me a hand, I take it and he pulls me to my feet.

"I'm sorry if I had known—"

"You weren't supposed to" I cut him off, my tone annoyed "Kinda the point of the hood." I'm not sure what annoys me more, his reaction or the fact he actually got one over on me. I brush myself off and straighten out my Kama. Looking up, I realize he is watching my every move.

I break the silence, getting right to the point "So you've been tracking me? Or my bounty at least. Why?"

"Quite honestly, I didn't know I was tracking you. You cover your tracks well." He compliments me and for a moment my pride swells. I didn't work this hard to become the expert I am just to have some di'kut (fool) ruin it. He pulls out a bounty puck from his pocket, showing it to me. It displays the face of the same man I'm hunting.

"Well I hate to break it to you, but I was here first." I say, poking him square in the chest plate. Now with how close we are and standing still, I can see how worn his armor is. It probably belonged to a family member of his or something. Although with the shiny shoulder pauldron and helmet, it makes me wonder if he's a foundling. They often use whatever armor they can find or are given until they can make their own. These days however, beskar is quite difficult to come by.

His voice pulls me from my thoughts, "How about we work together. Share the profits?"

I immediately scoff, crossing my arms over my chest and shifting my weight to one leg. "I don't think so. I work alone. Plus I'd be taking a pay cut."

"Your loss" He says monotone before turning to pick his blaster up before walking away.

    I'm taken aback by his comment. Does he really think he's better than me? One of my biggest downfalls is people doubting me just because I'm a woman.

"You know...the last man to doubt me ended up with a broken nose and stitches."

He continues walking as if he didn't hear me, but I know he did. "Te jatne beroya kelir parjir (may the best bounty hunter win)" I whisper under my breath. Flipping my hood back over my head, I storm off in the opposite direction he went.

    Cursing to myself in my native tongue, I take a few moments to collect myself from the encounter and get back to work. Before the Twi-lek had gotten a hold of me about my tail, I had tracked the bounty to a small village a few kicks due north. It's quite a distance to walk but I really don't feel the need to take my ship there. Thankfully I've stashed my speeder bike on board, it makes for tight living quarters but it works I guess.

    Once I reach my ship, I give the bike a quick once over before dragging it down the ramp. Giving it a quick start, it seems to be running fine. I hop on and speed off towards the small down, in hopes my counterpart hasn't already caught on. Luckily for me, I paid the Twi-lek a little extra to send him astray.

———

    By the time I make it to the village, the early morning sun is beginning to brighten the sky. The village also appears to be waking up which is perfect. A few people are milling around giving me strange looks and at first they are stand offish - which really is not a surprise to me...people seem to be afraid of Mandalorians. I approach an older woman who doesn't seem to be bothered by my presence.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry to bother you but I'm looking for someone and was wondering if you might help me?"

She doesn't stop what she's doing and speaks quietly, "Not here...follow me." She turns and heads between two of the small huts.

Leading me into a small hut that appears to be some kind of storage shed, she stops. "I figured it was better we talk here."

I cock my head at her. "The locals around here are uneasy about people asking questions. I think I know exactly who you are looking for. You see there have been mercenaries lurking around."

I don't move or say anything and she continues, "You look like a capable warrior....get rid of them." She must sense that I'm eyeing her.

"You must be wondering why I would trust some stranger...I've heard the stories about Mandalorians...it will be easy work for you and solve our problem."

I offer her a curt nod, "Where can I find them?"

———

    Having followed the exact directions the old woman gave me which lead me to a camp just east of the village. I find a good scouting spot and perch myself at the top of a hill near some brush. Using my HUD's thermal scan, I get a read on how many are down there - 12...I've taken out worse...Leaving my perch, I walk towards their camp and they do exactly as I had expected. A group of 2 meet me at the road while 2 others stand guard.

"You lost?" One of them asks. I tilt my visor between the four of them, calculating my move depending on how this conversation goes.

"I asked you a question."

"I heard you" I sass.

Scoffing the man turns to the others laughing.

"Did I say something funny?" I snap, starting to lose my patience.

"This one seems to be a little slow" another one says, his tone mocking me.

"You've got quite the mouth on you, young lady" The first man says walking a circle around me checking out my armor.

I'd take him out right there but there's always a bigger fish. Not only that, he'll get what he deserves,

"No. I'm not lost. I'd like to speak to the one in charge, since it's clearly not you."

After he finishes his circle he stops in front of me with a disgusted look on his face, "Follow me." He leads me into the camp with the others trailing behind.

Stopping at the fire, and the man turns to me "Wait here." He disappears into their ship.

    Looking over my shoulder, I make a mental note of where the other 3 are standing behind me. As I look around more come out of the woodwork, coming to a grand total of 10 - someone's paranoid and rightfully so. Just then the man from earlier appears followed by 2 more - one wearing the face of the man on my puck.

"I hear you asked to speak with me" he says, voice booming through the camp.

"There's a bounty out for you. I'm here to collect" my tone is flat, this group seems like one that would get spurred on by irritation.

The bounty takes out a blade and starts walking towards me laughing "Darling..." He starts and drags the flat side of the blade across my chest, to my shoulder, and around my back.

"Wonder how much we could get for armor like that? What'd ya think boys?" There's a series of whoops and hollers.

He stops dragging the blade and leans in to whisper, "or maybe I'll just keep it as a trophy."

I smirk to myself, "Be careful what you wish for" venom dripping from my words.

Sliding my hands down towards my blasters, I get ready to draw them. Just as I'm about to, their leader takes the knife and puts it to my throat, getting in close, "I don't think so."

    Kneeing him in the crotch he drops to the ground in pain. Seconds after blaster fire begins to ping off my armor. I let out a low growl that sounded quite feral through my modulator. A few of the mercs begin to drop but not by my hand, blaster fire from an unknown source rings out through the air. The men in front of me look around in confusion and I take the opportunity to quickly restrain my bounty and knock him out. I then draw my blaster firing at the 3 closest to me and their bodies slump to the ground. Bending over I grab the blade - that was previously dragged across my armor - and send it flying through the air before burying itself into the chest of the man taunting me earlier.

    Getting both myself and my bounty to cover, I make mental note of the direction the blaster fire comes from. Once I figure out where they are, I pick the bounty up - who thankfully is a small human man - throwing him over my shoulder, and racing to my speeder. Putting as much distance between me and the sound of the fight behind me as fast as I can.

    Once I get there, I quickly throw him on before starting it up and jumping on myself. A blaster bolt flys over my head and a familiar modulated voice yells something that I can't quite hear over the speeder's engine. Annoyed, I whip my helmeted head around, to see the Mandalorian from last night running in my direction. With a smirk plastered on my face, I speed off towards my ship. Getting away with the bounty we both wanted.

"I guess we know who the better bounty hunter is."

Tags: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter

@savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

[mandosaur]

Dance of the Mythosaur and Dragon Masterlist

Link to Archive Version

Back to Main Masterlist

Back to Main Star Wars Masterlist

Information Sheet

Fandom: The Mandalorian / House of the Dragon

Rating: General

Relationship: Din Djarin / OC

Status: Ongoing

Warnings: Mentions of Incest, Blood, Injuries

Total Word Count: ...

Expected Total Reading Time: ...

Summary:

”Let the songs be written, he thinks bitterly to himself, that he, Mand’alor Din Djarin of the Mudhorn Clan, has just agreed to marry Princess Daenys II Targaryen of Westeros.”

(A Cross Over between House of the Dragon and the Mandalorian.)

In an effort to gain powerful allies in the upcoming civil war, the Blacks decide to seek out the cosmos and wed their princess to a distant planet renown for its warriors. Princess Daenys Targaryen II is wed off Mandalore’s new Mand’alor Din Djarin for her dragon blood and dragon in exchange for their aid in the upcoming war.

Chapter List

Prologue

I

II

III

IV

Blurbs

Brainstorm I

Brainstorm II

[eclec-tech]

I am loving Mando Goth as a style! 😃 As a Mandalorian, the metal and leather are already there, and Archer is making it look good!

(Read the ALT text. This is the way to get the full GAR Goth Night experience.)

Holograph of Archer walking into 79s GAR Goth Night!

“The club was bumping, and everyone seemed to be having a good time! I noticed a very fresh-faced lad who appeared to be studying me (while talking to himself?) before I finally spotted a familiar face (well one whom I know at any rate) - Gregor! Just as I was moving to chat with Gregor, a vaguely familiar man approached and quickly snapped this holo of me. Strange. I didn’t know there was going to be event holography….”

Using @eobe tag list for GAR Goth Night folks: @ghostymarni @lonewolflupe @foxwithadarkside @fiveminutetrash @crosshairs-dumb-pimp-gf @feral-ferrule @skellymom @vimse @gargothnightzine @sunshinesdaydream @freesia-writes @covert1ntrovert @vikushat @nocturius8015ficore @ladylucksrogue @eclec-tech

[wreywrites]

Strange Habits

Jedi June Week 2

Prompt: Balance

A/N: To throw one more OC at you (I have *many*), this story features a legit Mandalorian, who has a little brother who will go on to be fairly famous in some circles. Warnings: None AO3

She slept with a rock. She tucked herself under a tree, back against the trunk, and pulled the rock out of her pocket. Then she folded her hands over her stomach, the rock nestled between. It was strange, but who was he to judge?

It was a smallish rock, no bigger than his mythosaur pendant, but from what he could see, it wasn’t carved or painted or etched, it was just a plain gray ellipse-shaped rock. But she didn’t seem to want to explain it, and he wasn’t intrusive enough to ask.

So Kylen Ydarra slept with a rock, and Zann Rau accepted that Jedi were strange.

*****

He noticed, sometimes, when she was overwhelmed or scared or confused or exhausted, she would take the rock out of her pocket and let it rest in her open palm while she just… looked at it. She would take a few deep breaths, and then she would put it back in her pocket. He didn’t think the rock did anything, but Jedi were strange.

At least, Ydarra was a little strange.

*****

“I’m curious,” Zann said as they made camp for the night, “what’s with the rock?”

“My master gave it to me.”

“Something to remind you of home? I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to have attachments like that?”

“We aren’t. I don’t.” Ky shook her head almost to herself as she sat back against a tree and pulled the rock from her pocket. She laid it in her open palm, then slid it to the end of her middle finger, the smooth surface sitting on the pad of the finger. “No, the rock is…” She took a deep breath and tilted her head. The rock stood on end, a perfect ellipse with one vertex on her finger and the other sticking up in the air. Slowly, it began to spin in place, never losing its perfect balance, never faltering.

“It helps me stay balanced.”

“Balanced?” He spoke quietly, almost afraid that he could topple the rock with any loud noises or sudden movements.

“Yeah.” Ky smiled at him. Still the rock revolved on its axis. “I have been told I’m excitable.”

He had to laugh. “Oh?”

“By more than one person.” She grinned again. “Anyway, my master gave me this rock before I left. He meditated with it so much that it holds a kind of… resonance with him. When I hold it, I can feel what he was feeling when he meditated. Calm strength waiting to be called into action.” She answered his question before he could voice it. Then she went on. “And it reminds me to trust in the Force, to not let my emotions—good or bad—get the better of me. I can feel them—I should feel them—but I must keep them in balance and not let them rule me.”

Zann nodded, but he wasn’t sure why. He didn’t understand well enough to nod along like he did.

“When I am tired, the rock reminds me to persevere. When I am scared, the rock reminds me to have courage. When I am frustrated, the rock reminds me to be patient.”

“Must be hard being a Jedi and remembering all that stuff.”

“Not usually. Most of the time we’re in the Temple surrounded by other Jedi, and we can encourage and help each other. But here—” a teasing smile flashed across her face, “—here I’m surrounded by Mandalorians, whose idea of ‘balance’ is a blaster on both hips. Your people don’t exactly help me keep an even emotional keel.”

“Hence the rock.”

“Hence the rock. In fairness, I had the rock before I knew just how annoying you would be.”

“Wow,” Zann snorted. “Thanks.”

*****

The days were long and they fell asleep every night exhausted. As the weeks wore on, Ky pulled the rock from her pocket more and more often.

When Hardeen finally left, it was with one less spare bootlace. Zann doubted he would notice.

The days were long, but now there was something to do with his hands during the restless watches of the night.

*****

“Here.” He passed her the leather cord, a careful harness on a loop.

Ky frowned as she took it.

“For your rock,” Zann added.

She smiled and reached into her pocket, then slid the rock into the little harness and tightened it. “Thank you.” She put the loop around her neck and let the rock slip inside her shirt, pressed against her chest next to the mythosaur.

Suddenly, Zann felt very self-conscious. He cleared his throat, uncrossed and recrossed his legs, and said, “I just thought—it might be easier—this way you can always feel it, you know, instead of having to dig it out of your pocket—it’s always—”

“Zann.” Ky’s voice was so soft, not like her usual commanding tone. He thought he might melt under the force of her smile, the light in her eyes. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He nodded awkwardly.

“And,” she went on, her smile growing, “I can feel the care you put into it. It holds your respect and friendship and gratitude. Not only is it perfect for my rock, but the necklace itself will help me find balance.”

He knew he was blushing. He cleared his throat again and said hurriedly, “Just promise you won’t tell any of my Mandalorian friends I’m helping you ‘find balance’ and ‘trust in the Force.’ They’d lose all respect for me.”

Ky laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep your secret. Not every day you meet a Mandalorian who values an even emotional keel.”

[rikumee]

OC Star Wars, bounty hunter, ostracized among the Mandalorians for killing the Mythosaur

[mythosaursarecool]

I want you to think hard here. Is this a fight you want to pick? If the answer is still yes think even harder on if this is a fight you’re actually gonna win.

This one was really fun to draw. Made myself wait a couple of days before posting lol.

[dickarchivist]

Hoping for more Ghost content! If you are still taking for the color prompts could you do 🔵🟣 for Ghost please?

Ghost for youuuuu 👻 💕

🟣 Purple- What is something that your OC could not live without? What keeps them grounded in the worst of times?

Ghost has a coin he carries on him at all times that was given to him by one of the Kaminoian teachers they had, Nal Tsuba. It's made of beskar, and has a mythosaur skull on one side, with the kaminoian clone symbol on the other. Nal Tsuba gave this coin to Ghost when he was finally deployed with his brothers into the 404th. "Never forget what you're made of, and where you come from. They are your base, what makes you strong."

He's not sure if Nal Tsuba even liked them, they were trouble makers and little shits the whole time. But for some reason, she gave Ghost that coin. He's never without it. Ever.

🔵 Blue- How would your OC spend a single day of interrupted peace? Where would they go or who would they be with?

During the war: Ghost would spend his peace day sleeping, eating, sleeping, eating. Rotating between chow and down. He works himself to the bone every other day, the man needs a break.

Post o66, during peace time: he'd spend his day cooking, honestly. Just... making something tasty, writing down new recipes, enjoying the scents and flavors of his life. He'd love it so much.

Mildly spicy but if he has a partner he'd spend the day starting their family if you get the hint. Makes sure they eat good, and are taken care of in every way.

(It's a miracle I remembered the tag list)

@anxiouspineapple99 @wolffegirlsunite @wizardofrozz @eclec-tech @dystopicjumpsuit @clonethirstingisreal @wings-and-beskar @sunshinesdaydream @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @n0vqni

[alexversenaberrie]

This is another one of my Mandalorian OC you’re free to use for a future painting.

Name: Isabeth Shae Djarin-Kryze

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Year of Birth: 12 ABY

Place of Birth: Mandalore

Parents: Din Djarin (father) and Bo-Katan Kryze (mother)

Siblings: Grogu (adopted brother), Mirta (biological sister), and Alexi (biological brother)

House: Kryze

Clan: Mudhorn

Titles: Princess of Mandalore, Duchess of Navarro

Appearance:

•5’4

•Light olive skin(Caucasian X Latina)

•Athletic

•Short face

•Long, straight, ginger brown hair

•Brown eyes

•Visible freckles on both sides of her cheek

Notable Skills:

•Combat: Well rounded in different forms of hand-to-hand combat such as being skilled in the use of Westar 34, 35, and carbine blasters. She’s also highly skilled in the use of the recently reforged Dark Saber.

•Athleticism: Due to constant training under her father, Din Djarin, Isabeth is very athletic like the rest of her family clan.

•Intelligence: Above-average intelligence, excelled well at both the newly reestablished Royal Academy as a youth and in training with her clan. She has minor experience in piloting ships.

•Force Sensitive?: No

Additional Information:

•She’s the second of triplets to sister Mirta and brother Alexi.

•Served both Generals Leia Organa-Solo and Poe Dameron as a commander for the Resistance in the battle against the First Order.

•A gifted Musician

•While tight-knit with her entire family, she has a closer relationship with her father and adopted brother Grogu.

Strengths:

•Is well-rounded on the field of politics, thanks to learning experience from her mother, Bo-Katan.

•Has amazing determination, willpower and like her mother, won’t go down without a fight.

•Fearless

•Can speak Basic, Mando’a, Twi’leki, Huttese, Tusken, and Gunganese.

•Fast-thinking, makes effective split-second decisions, and can improvise.

•Constantly on alert

•Competent

Weaknesses:

•Can be stubborn at times

•Antisocial

•Has a fear of droids

•Has a fear of flying, which can explain her lack of experience with piloting ships.

•Mild temper

Armor:

•Helmet: A “NiteOwl”-styled helmet that’s a mix between both of her parents helmets combined. The decal on the helmet is the Clan Kryze signet.

•Chest and Neck Pieces: Typical Nite Owl chest and neck pieces with the chest piece featuring her mother’s “Kryze Mythosaur” signet on the right side of the chest piece and Mandalorian “peace” Lillie’s on its left side. At its center is a gold heart to symbolize compassion and kindness.

•Groin: Typical Nite Owl groin piece

•Pauldrons: Similar to her mother’s, Isabeth has a “Nite Owl” signet on the left pauldron and her father and brother’s “Mudhorn” signet on the right pauldron.

•Gauntlets: Similar in appearance to Sabine Wren’s, the gauntlets have the ability to shoot paralyzing darts, emit shields, repulse attacks from sabers and blasters, grapple lines, and the ability to throw barrels and use flamethrower.

Hand armor: Similar to her father’s.

•Thigh Plates: Similar to her mothers’s.

•Knee Armor: Galaxy-styled like Ursa Wren’s but can launch missiles.

•Shin Guards: Typical Nite Owl-styled shin guards like her mother.

•Jet pack: Due to her fear of flying, she doesn’t often use her jet pack, which is similar to her father’s.

Armor Color Scheme:

•Grey Blue

•Beskar Silver

Soft parts:

•Similar to her mother’s.

Belt:

•Similar to Sabine Wren’s with a double belt but with a light blue sash around it.

Weapons in Possession:

•2 identical Westar blasters

•Dark Saber, recently reforged by her brother, Grogu.

Here she is :). As she is a duchess of Navarro, I decided to give her the robe of Navarro's High Magistrate ;) And as she is royalty - I gave her other 'crown' like hairdresser of Satine

There is dark saber of course, I hope that it is visible.

[thicctails]

Wow! What a good, friendly, loyal mythosaur boy! Surely nothing bad will ever happen to him!

[mandosaur]

Dance of the Mythosaur and Dragon (2/?)

Fandom: The Mandalorian, House of the Dragon

Pairing: Din Djarin / OC

Chapter: II (Din)

Word Count: 4,788 Words

Estimated Reading Time: 17:25

Previous | Next

Grogu shovels the pretzels laid out for him as Din and Bo sit across from each other. The meeting room is once again empty after a round of negotiations and debate. An informant has let them know that the Targaryens have departed from Westeros on their small starship bound for Mandalore.

Bo runs a hand through her hair in obvious exasperation. Din has yet again objected to the marriage.

“Tell them we will trade something else. There is no need for a marriage,” Din remarks.

Grogu makes a tiny Patuu as he gnaws on another pretzel stick. His eyes watch him intently. Either the Force is allowing him to feel Din’s frustration, or he is just attuned to his adoptive father after so long of knowing him. Eitherway, the kid seems to sense his unease and looks concerned.

“And trade what? Funds? Mandalore doesn’t have those to spare. Food? We can barely grow enough to keep our own citizens fed. Weapons? The other clans will not allow us to arm a foreign planet with our advanced weaponry especially when they are so close to war. Soldiers? No clan would volunteer its fighters to a planet it can’t even place on a map. Beskar? The creed believes that it is for our use only. What could we possible offer them that isn’t a marriage?” Bo leans back in her chair, “It’s all we have to barter. You are Mand’alor, but your position is not secure. Anyone could challenge you for the Darksaber. Quite a few clans are unhappy with your rule purely because they view you as an outsider. A marriage could-“

“A marriage to another outsider? Yeah, that will win them over,” Din rolls his eyes, “I wouldn’t mind handing the sword to another challenger. You know I never wanted this throne.”

The Darksaber feels too heavy on his hip. He doesn’t like the weight of it. Every time he pulls it free and ignites the blade, he can feel something unnatural and eerie whispering to him and luring him down a path he doesn’t want to follow.

Had his covert not demanded he take up the throne on their behalf, he would have handed it to Bo Katan and been done with it. Let her take her ancestral throne back and lead the ruins of Mandalore for all he cared. He was never meant for a life of ruling anything bigger than a squad of bounty hunter grunts.

Bo elects to ignore him.

“You need a wife to solidify your throne and a child to pass on rulership-“

A gloved hand points to Grogu with his cheeks stuffed full of pretzels.

“I have a son. Din Grogu.”

Din’s voice is a cold warning, tense. His creed does not recognize blood over chosen family. Mandalorians believe the children you adopt are just as much yours as the ones that share your genetics. To weigh one child over another simply because their blood is not yours is to reject the tenets of a true Mandalorian.

“Of course you do,” Bo protests, “But Grogu is fifty and still hasn’t said his first word! It will take him centuries to ever be ready to rule. You are not eternal, Din Djarin. You will die one day. You need another heir to take the Darksaber and rule Mandalore while Grogu grows. That is why it is necessary to marry this princess.”

A pause dwells in the air. Grogu chews thoughtfully and his gaze sweeps over them both. Din wonders not for the first time how much he understands. Maybe his mind is evolved leagues beyond his tiny body.

“It had to be a princess from a backwater, skughole planet? There weren’t any clans ready to sell off their daughters to you?” Din’s voice is gruff again.

Bo stands from her chair and walks over to the Holo. A few taps and a holo image of Westeros is projected between them. The photos are blurry and unfocused.

“How much do you know about Westeros? Or the Targaryen dynasty?”

Nothing.

Din had never heard of any of it before the idea of a marriage contract had first been floated towards them.

“Westeros is an isolationist planet*. Isolationist planets are planets that never joined the Republic pre-Empire or any other galactic government body. Westeros was discovered during the establishment of the Targaryen rule. The ruler back then, Aegon the Conquerer, met with a representative of the Republic. When the planet was discovered, it was offered that they join the Republic and have access to all of our technology. Aegon the Conqueror refused.”

Another tap on the screen brings up a contract. The top part is both in Aurebesh and the same weird symbols from before. The title reads TREATY OF PERMANENT ISOLATION AND COMPLETE SILENCE FOR PLANETARY INDEPENDENCE FROM THE HIGH REPUBLIC. A mouthful if there ever was one.

“The Isolation Treaties, or the Lone Planet Accords, are treaties the Republic agreed to with planets who didn’t want to join the galaxy. The rules state that those planets must never interfere in galactic governance or trade or contact outside planets. In exchange, they are completely independent and do not need to obey Republic laws. Westeros is one of them. Aegon the Conqueror wanted his planet to be free from any outside rule and wanted to preserve the integrity of his line. If he joined the Republic, he would have had to bend to their laws and allow non-humans into his planet where they would ‘taint the bloodline’ as he claimed. For centuries Westeros has been completely closed off and its people outside of the royal family have no clue life outside their planet exists. The only connection they have to the outside world is a singe starship the Republic gave them centuries ago merely for emergencies or renewals of the treaties-“

“Then how did they agree to this contract now?” Din leans back in his chair. He’s never been one to trust easily. For an isolationist planet to suddenly break its treaty now…

“When the Republic fell, the Empire claimed it would continue to honor the Isolationist Treaties. That was a lie, of course, the Empire never honored its oaths. No doubt they would have begun invading isolationist planets had they not been too preoccupied with the Rebellion and their other genocides, but those planets remained without contact during its rule. But when the empire fell, the treaties ended too. The New Republic has already said they will reissue the treaties as soon as they are able to, but they are busy rebuilding. It will take them a few years to catch up. For now, Westeros is free to contact the outside planets while it waits for a renewal. That presented a great opportunity.”

A tap on the screen brings up more blurry images of dragons. A satellite somewhere far away from Westeros has taken imaging of the Targaryen dragons. With how far the photos were taken, the image looks like nothing more than blurry colored outlines across stretches of land.

“Westeros is controlled by the Targaryen dynasty. They are dragon riders. Their blood is special and allows them alone to control these beasts. Legends say they are descended from the very dragons themselves. Their blood would have made them prime targets for the Empire had it had time to invade their planet. We don’t need to do that. The Targaryens are fiercely protective of their dragons and blood. They practice incest to keep their bloodlines strong and their dragons within their family. A marriage to an outside planet has never been done before, but the expiration of the treaties gives us the perfect advantage. If you marry their princess, your children will have Targaryen blood. They will control dragons and protect Mandalore. The imperial remnants and any enemies who would invade our planet would think twice if they heard the roar of a Targaryen dragon.”

Din thinks of the Krayt dragon he fought ages ago. That beast had not been controllable. He doubts any wild animal can truly be controlled. Perhaps the Targaryens are con artists using fear to keep their citizenry at bay.

“They won’t give us their dragons. They’ll go back on their word once we send them fighters-“

“They have agreed to give us the dragon that belongs to their princess. Your future bride rides the Cannibal. It is the largest dragon in their planet previously untamable. Princess Daenys did what no one could before at a young age. She tamed it. The beast answers only to her. King Viserys Targaryen has agreed to gift us the dragon as his daughter’s dowry. Any eggs it lays will also belong to Mandalore.”

A blurry image of a dragon takes over the screen. It is a fearsome thing with scales black as midnight and green eyes. In the picture, it has something in its mouth. The image is too blurry to make out whatever it is.

“The Cannibal is a treasure. It is the largest dragon known in Westeros and the most feared. It’s called the Cannibal because it has devoured other dragons before. If Princess Daenys can control it, ride it in battle, then Mandalore will have a very powerful weapon. All it takes is a marriage-“

“And our soldiers. You said this planet is about to destroy itself in a civil war. They want our aid in exchange. How do you propose we do that? You said our warriors will never leave for a foreign battle. We can’t give them the aid we promised-“

Bo waves her hand dismissively.

“That is an issue for another time. For now, my priority is restoring Mandalore to its height. This alliance will give us what every other planet could never imagine having access to. Targaryen blood.”

Grogu hops on the table and peers at the image of the Cannibal. He makes little noises as he tilts his head every which way to analyze it.

Din stands from the table and scoops Grogu up, “Mandalorians can stand alone. We don’t need some spoiled brat with inbred blood and a cannibalistic lizard to fight our battles-“

“You haven’t even met her,” Bo hisses, “Our accounts say she’s lovely. Why don’t you at least wait until their ship arrives here before you decide to demand that they leave? Maybe she is exactly what this planet needs-“

The door closes behind Din hiding whatever else Bo was in the midst of saying. Grogu reaches a tiny hand for Din’s helmet as his ears drop.

“Don’t worry, kid, I don’t intend to let any of this happen. I’ll send those people packing myself if I have to.”

———————————————

“You know, you might just be the only guy in existence who is told he will marry a beautiful Princess half his age and be upset about it,” Peli huffs. She scans her hand of Sabacc as her droids toss more credits in the pile. From where he is, Din can tell it’s a bad hand.

Grogu paces around Peli’s shop as Din gets to work fixing up his ship using her tools.

He’s fled Mandalore for a bit and gone to Tatooine. Bo hadn’t been happy when he had announced he was leaving, but even she knew Din needed a distraction. If he had to sit through another meeting listening to other people plan out his life with no input from him, he’d take the Darksaber and slit his own throat.

A spark from the ship makes him curse. The electric charge has torn open his glove and his finger aches.

“I never wanted to marry,” he keeps his voice firm as he shakes his hand in pain.

Peli tosses another credit to the table and smacks a droid that tries to scan her cards.

“And I never wanted that Jawa I dated that one time to dump me in an actual dump pile, but life happens. A lot worse could happen than being told you’re going to marry royalty. Maker, some people would give up their soul for a trade like that-“

“Well they can have my treaty,” Din growls out, “And this laser sword while I’m at it.”

Din wishes Paz had won the sword when he challenged him all that time ago. He should have just feigned losing the duel just to be rid of it. Paz could have ruled Mandalore and married the foreign princess. Why did he have to bring all these troubles on his shoulders?

Grogu sits on Peli’s lap and rolls a credit chip in his tiny hand. Peli tosses her cards aside and a busted up droid chirps in glee as it uses its claw to rake in the credits on the table.

“Whaddaya think, kid? Don’t you want to meet the pretty Princess?” She directs the question at Grogu. Grogu makes a series of noises in response. Peli nods as if she understands, “See? Kid is happy.”

Din kicks off from underneath his ship and tosses the tool in his hand at a workstation. His ship needs a few more repairs to keep running as fast as it has. In his mind, he runs a mental catalogue of all the parts it needs replacing and how much it will set him back.

“I told myself I’d never marry. We’re a clan of two, not three.”

Peli shrugs and shuffles out another hand. This one is better than the last. She shovels some more credits at the pile and protests when a droid offers up a tiny piece of its circuitry.

“Oi, it’s gonna take a lot more than that you, pile of rust. Toss in that leg of yours if you wanna participate in this hand,” she points a finger at the droid which chirps out a series of binary Din guesses isn’t appropriate, “Look, there are bigger problems in the world than marrying a pretty girl, Mando. You prolly never thought you’d get this little one either yet here he is. The Maker has a way of giving us what we need when we need it. Who knows? Maybe a year from now you’ll be happily married and won’t be able to imagine life without that princess of yours.”

Din makes a sound at the back of his throat. He doubts it.

He’s long ago accepted that he was never meant for anything more than one night stands and brothels. A man with as much blood as him, one who can’t show his face, and is already married to his creed isn’t meant for princesses coming from a life of wealth and splendor. That girl will take one look at Mandalore’s warriors and their bloody armor and faint.

“Believe me, the marriage will never go through. That girl will board her ship and run away as soon as she arrives in Mandalore. Then I’ll tell Bo Katan I’ll never agree to another arranged marriage and tell her Paz’s son is my next heir.”

Peli wins the next round and Grogu raises his hands in celebration. The droid now missing a leg beeps out some more binary and awkwardly hops away in a fit of anger. Peli huffs and calls him a sore looser.

“I wanna invite to the wedding, Mando. What good is a King for a client if it doesn’t come with perks?” She stands up and shoves the credits into her pockets. Grogu wanders back over to Din.

“I’m not a King,” Din argues, “I’m a leader. Not the same.”

A king, he knows, is an absolute ruler. His word is law and his people must obey. The Mand’alor is not like that. His rule is reliant on the sword on his hip for validity and the will of the Mandalorians to accept him. At any point, anyone could challenge him and take the throne.

Peli ignores him as she shoves him out of the way. He’s made a mess of her tools. She disappears under his starfighter and begins to complain about the state of the once beautiful ship she helped him build. Din forgets his protests as he joins her underneath the ship and takes a tool from her as they get to work on repairs. His problems can wait.

———————————————

A tablet is handed to him as he walks down the halls of the palace. Bo has compiled a list of all the information she has on Westeros. Din scans it with boredom as he walks side by side with her.

“Prince Daemon will negotiate the marriage on behalf of King Viserys. Westeros has its own customs on marriage. Originally he wanted a Valyrian wedding ceremony, but I talked him down. Your creed forbids you removing your helmet and their marriage ceremony would involve everyone seeing your face. We managed to agree on a Westerosi tradition. I already hired someone to make you a cloak.”

Din taps through a series of documents scanning its contents as Bo begins to huff when she recalls Daemon has refused to write his correspondence in Aurebesh. Her negotiations are taking longer the more she needs to translate his letters.

His focus goes to the tablet. The Westerosi wedding involves a cloak with his insignia being wrapped around his wife’s shoulders to demonstrate he is now responsible for her well-being. A note from the tailor hired claims his Mudhorn signet and the Mythosaur will be used for the cloak. His Armorer has even agreed to make him a Beskar clasp for the cloak and will incorporate the shape of a dragon in regards to his wife.

“And the wedding?” He passes the tablet back to her. The entire thing is one big headache after another.

“It will happen as soon as possible. The Targaryens cannot leave their planet for long. Prince Daemon has his own wedding to get to. He will be marrying Princess Rhaenyra after the death of her husband.”

Din thinks back to the family tree he had been made to read the night before.

“Isn’t that his niece?” His voice is dry, disgusted.

Bo makes a sound, “Keep the bloodline pure, remember? In any case, there are preparations we have to do before the ceremony. Princess Daenys will have to learn Aurebesh and some ways of life of Mandalore. We will need to negotiate with Prince Daemon what the marriage will entail and what title Daenys will take. There isn’t an official title for the spouse of a Mand’alor, but Daenys is a Princess. Her birth demands a level of respect we can’t ignore. We also have to negotiate some other things. Westeros is primitive…they have one starship they haven’t updated since the first contact with their planet. That means Princess Daenys won’t be able to visit her home planet or get many messages across. We will have to provide them a new starship with more advanced technology. We don’t have many of those to spare. Plus, we need to discuss what will happen with the Cannibal. Westeros has its own keepers which are tasked with feeding its beasts and keeping their eggs secure. We have no clue how to accomplish this. They offered to let some keepers stay on the planet with us, but the idea of outsiders I can’t vet for their allegiance isn’t exciting. I’d much rather we have our own troops learn how to manage the dragons.”

They enter the forge where the Armorer is at work. Sparks fly as she hammers out a special clasp for his cloak. He can already make out the shape of a dragon. It’s an imitation of the painting of the dragon gifted to them some time ago. The clasp has a dragon on the left roaring with fire flowing out of its maw and the Mudhorn on the right poised to strike with its big horn.

A special new signet meant to show the unification of the Targaryen and Djarin clans. Din suspects he will have to replace his shoulder pauldron once the marriage goes through. Grogu will also have to replace his chest piece once his wife adopts him as her own.

“The new signet will be ready soon,” the armorer doesn’t look up as she works, “The Djarin clan will expand by one. I added the Targaryen dragon as a sign of respect towards Princess Daenys’ royal blood.”

The foreign words sound strange on her tongue. Din watches the figure slowly appear on the Beskar. The Mudhorn darkens as more details bloom across the surface.

“We will also need armor,” Bo remarks, “The Princess will need to take the creed with time. Westeros might forbid its women from fighting, but Mandalore needs a warrior at its helm.”

“If she chooses to take the creed, I will take her measurements and forge her armor. Until then, we do not have the Beskar to spare,” the Armorer finishes the clasp. She holds it up for their inspection.

It’s a nice work of craftsmanship. Din can appreciate it even if he isn’t thrilled at the idea of changing his clan’s symbol. The Cannibal has been replicated exactly as it is on the painting.

She turns around and begins to cool off the piece. Soon, it will be shipped off to the tailor for it to be added to the cloak. Bo has shown him rough sketches of it already. It’s a silver, heavy thing meant to mimic Beskar. It will wrap around his fiancée’s shoulders during the wedding ceremony and replace the crimson Targaryen cloak she will wear.

“You will memorize the Targaryen wedding vows and your bride will memorize the Mandalorian vows in Mando’a. The Westerosi traditions will be done in public. The Mandalorian ones will be kept private,” the armorer calls over her shoulder, “Only once you two have pledged the Mandalorian vows can you remove your helmet. As husband and wife, she will be allowed to see your face.”

Din presses his lips together. He had forgotten all about that tradition too. A sense of unease spreads through him. He’s never been one to care about his appearance, had always imagined no one would ever see him except for Grogu and imps at the base, but now he feels nervous. He isn’t young anymore and he doubts he’s handsome. What will happen when his new bride sees him? Will she be able to hide her disgust? Cry? Race after her unclebrother in law and demand to return to Westeros?

He crosses his arms in front of his chest and pushes the thoughts aside. It doesn’t matter, he thinks, better for him if she runs away screaming.

The water hisses angrily as the burning clasp is dumped in. The armorer holds it steady until it cools. Once it’s finally done, she drops it into some fabric to cool it off.

“When you took the Darksaber, you promised you would place the needs of this planet over your own. Was your oath false, Din Djarin?” The armorer lifts her head to peer at him.

He immediately straightens up.

“No.”

A firm, resolute answer.

He meant every word of that creed as much as he had the first oath he swore when he put on his helmet for the first time. He may not have wanted his throne, but he had accepted the title when his covert had asked him to take the helm. They needed a voice in Mandalore. With Bo’s faction of helmetless Mandalorians ruling, the worry was that his covert would be closed off from the planet. In order to unify both clans, he had accepted the responsibility of wielding the saber and ruling them both.

The armorer regards him quietly from her place at the forge, Bo turns to him as well.

“Then marry this foreign princess and solidify your rule. Raise warriors with her and let them mount the dragons that will fly over Mandalore. This is your sacrifice,” the armorer’s voice carries across the room,“This is the way.”

“This is the way,” he and Bo respond back.

The words taste like ash in his mouth.

———————————————

A line of Mandalorians forms outside Mandalore. Din stands tall with the Darksaber on his hip. His armor has been polished until it gleams and the new signet on his shoulders catches the light of the sun.

The heavy cloak fashioned for him has replaced his old cape. It’s a long, silver cloak which drags when he walks and has the Beskar clasp at the front with the new insignia. It matches the color of his Beskar perfectly and has a regal air that has made quite a few others stare. Even little Grogu had made a sound of surprise when he first saw it around his shoulders.

The procession is waiting. A transmission had arrived last night announcing that the Targaryen starship was close. Bo Katan had sent some of her men to meet them half way and guide them back to Mandalore. Their old model ship traveled too slow for their taste and their hyperspace was weak.

Some time late in the morning, the ship had been spotted in their radars. Axe Woves, piloting the second ship, had announced they were both close. He claimed the Targaryens wanted to ride their dragons as soon as it was safe to disembark from their ship. They had brought three with them although only one would remain.

Din knows it’s a show of strength. They wish to brag about their beasts and show Mandalore why they were chosen for an alliance. Still, his warriors seem intrigued having never seen a dragon in person.

Bo raises a hand to her helmet receiving another transmission. She motions for Din to get closer.

“They’ve broken through the atmosphere. The ship will hover to allow the dragons to disembark. Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon are at the front. Princess Daenys will bring up the rear.”

She nudges Din to stand up straight. He adjusts the cloak on his shoulders and grips the Darksaber in one hand.

The morning is quiet and some of the Mandalorians shuffle their feet. Bo uses her helmet to see up into the clouds to spot the dragons.

Some more time passes before finally she makes a sound. Dark shapes emerge from the clouds. He spots two of them right off the bat.

One dragon has a long neck and travels at a rapid speed. The second is the color of burnished gold and flies next to the first dragon. They are the first to break through the clouds and their form casts a wide shadow.

Despite himself, Din widens his eyes. All this time he had been imagining a Krayt dragon. To see these dragons in flight is something astonishing.

But the third dragon completely blows the other two away. A large shadow blocks out the sun as it emerges from the clouds. This dragon is massive, towers over them all, and his scales are blacker than oil. He opens his mouth and a fearsome roar shakes the very ground they stand on.

Din is rooted to the spot with his eyes trained on the third dragon. This is the Cannibal, he realizes. The wild dragon only one person in history has been able to tame. A shiver runs down his spine and he isn’t sure whether it’s one born from awe or shock.

The first two dragons touch down first in the space allotted for them. Prince Daemon hops off in full armor and waits for his niece. Princess Rhaenyra dismounts in a dress that looks more expensive than anything he has ever seen before. The two of them survey the crowd quietly.

Behind them, the Cannibal lands with a blow that shakes the ground. Some of the Mandalorians make stunned noises. Those closest to the landing area tense as if waiting for the dragons to strike.

It takes a moment for Din to see his bride. The towering form of the Cannibal hides her from view as she dismounts. When the beast finally lowers itself to allow her to safely get off, he sees her.

She’s dressed in a red gown the color of blood. A three headed dragon made of black gems is stitched across the front of the dress. Her hair is whiter than snow and pinned in an elaborate hairstyle at the top of her head. Her eyes are the color of rare gems.

He lets outs out a breath.

“Beautiful,” he hears himself say. He’s stunned at his own admission and clacks his mouth shut to keep himself from speaking out again. Thankfully, no one seems to have heard him.

Bo jumps into action. She turns her head sideways, helmet trained on his, and nods at the Targaryens slowly walking forward.

“Come,” she orders, “let’s meet your new bride.”

[consularmain]

the momdalorian

[keldabe-kiss]

New mando oc! This one with a lot of fanon mando culture! Meet Kyr’ad…

Kyr’ad abandoned their name when the Empire took over, and went by their profession from then on.

A kyr’ad- child of death- is one who goes into enemy war zones or territories to get their dead back, as well as preform funeral rites for them if the family is unable to/dead as well. Their daily list of remembrances include everyone they have taken back from enemy lines. They existed long before Death Watch.

The symbol of the kyr’ade is the broken spiked ring, representing life and death, and the broken nature of not allowing proper mourning and grief with your dead. The skull in the middle represents the work leaning more on the death then the life.

Kyr’ad’s armor is painting black, grey, and blue for their the justice of those lost, their job to mourn and help the dead, and their reliability to the cause. Their buy'ce has mythosaur teeth on it; a Mandalorian symbol for those who are last of their tribe.

Age 11 when the Empire rose, their Buir was training them for their Verd’goten in Republic space when Order 66 happened. They both watched the Clone Soldiers kill a 13 year old Padawan, and when their Buir tried to retaliate, the Clones killed him as well.

Because of watching their Buir and that child be killed by soldiers of the Republic/Empire, Kyr’ad joined the Rebellion as soon as they could. They were admittedly hesitant when they first met the free clones in the Rebellion, but very quickly got over that.

[darth-caillic]

consider