Cola's Fandom Asylum

Steve Rogers, my first Marvel love, has come back into my brain with a force. That got me thinking about how flustered Reader would be to have both Baron Helmut Zemo and Steve Rogers battling for her affection.

Steve is, of course, America's Sweetheart. Maybe he lives in the apartment across from yours. It worried him, seeing a young woman like you living alone. He introduces himself on your first day, offering to help you carry some of the heavier boxes inside. He's retired from the title of Captain America now, but that super soldier body still has plenty of strength left to spare. He also checks over all your locks to make sure they work properly. Nods approvingly when you show him the door blockers you got to prop under the doorknobs at night. He's not worried about them preventing him from getting in during an emergency; he could splinter that thing easily. But it would stop any average robber. Steve gives you his number and tells you to let him know if you need help with anything. He's just a good, caring neighbor.

If he sees you coming back from the grocery store, he's immediately carrying most if not all of your bags for you. He doesn't even break a sweat. Asks you what you're planning to make for dinner, as well as chatting with you about the happenings in your life. If you're going on a trip and ask him to take care of your pet or water your plants while you're gone, he sees it as a sacred duty. Makes sure to send you plenty of photos of your beloved plant or animal. He's just great like that.

Or if you need someone to talk to, or you need advice about something stressing you out, you can always come to Steve. He'll look at you with those soft blue eyes and sit you down on his couch. Sit beside you and listen intently to your problems. His advice is always good.

You meet Baron Helmut Zemo while you're out. Your friends had convinced you to visit one of the hottest clubs in town. It wasn't your usual scene, but it wouldn't hurt to try things at least once. There, you meet Helmut. His eyes were the first thing to draw you in. Even under the neon blue lights, you could tell they were devastatingly beautiful, a dark shade of brown. (If you can't tell, I'm obsessed with Zemo's eyes. I talk about them a LOT.) His charming, intelligent smile is what had made you approach him. His accent, more intoxicating than any alcohol served there, is what had you staying. You didn't remember much of how you got back to your apartment. Just a blur of hands and lips and teeth.

You woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee and food. Your phone read 9 am and had blown up with excited texts from your friends that you ignored for now. Pulling on your favorite pajama shirt, an old, oversized concert tee that fell to your thighs, you stumbled your way into the kitchen to investigate the smell. There, you're treated to the glorious sight of Zemo in nothing but black boxers. Cooking a wonderful smelling breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh fruit. A steaming mug of coffee was awaiting you. Which you reward with a kiss.

A knock on your door draws your attention. Steve had heard you get home late last night and... definitely heard a few of the activities you'd gotten up to. (He should have been a gentleman and stopped listening, but the selfish part of him hesitated.) He told himself he was just checking up on you to make sure you were safe. But in reality he wanted to see if your "new friend" was still over. When you open the door, his chest aches at the sight of you so disheveled. He can see the love bites and dark hickeys littering your neck from where the collar of your baggy shirt slips down your shoulder. It makes his stomach tighten in jealousy.

"You got home pretty late. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"She's wonderful, actually."

You didn't even notice when Zemo walked over. Steve's entire body tenses at the sight of the man.

"Baron. It's you."

"Captain."

The fact that they knew each other was news to you. And the animosity in their eyes made you quickly realize that your life was going to get a LOT more complicated.

Steve and Zemo are two complete opposites in your life.

Steve is the firm one. If you're a brat, he's the one who punishes you. He cannot be swayed, no matter how pretty your puppy dog eyes are. You know what you are and aren't supposed to do. You know that when you step out of line, what the consequences will be. Steve's favorite form of punishment is edging. There's just something so satisfying about seeing you squirming and crying and begging him to forgive you. But he's always the first to say sweet things to you during aftercare, to hold you close and massage your sore muscles. Lips pressed to your temples and cheeks and nose and anywhere else he can reach. Holding you until you fall asleep.

Zemo is the more lenient one. He just loves to spoil you. How could he say no to you when you're batting your eyelashes so pretty and pouting? He lets you get away with a lot, and honestly he even encourages your bratty behavior. He thinks its wonderfully amusing. His favorite way to treat your brattiness is to overstimulate you. It's just so beautiful to him, seeing your pretty tears stream down your cheeks, weakly muttering "C-Can't--" while rolling your hips into him more. Until you're telling him that you'll be good next time -- even though he knows it's not true. Afterwards, he takes care of your physical needs first. Makes sure you drink water, wipes you clean with a wet cloth, and even brings any of your favorite foods/snacks to bed.

The two of them together is an entirely different story. Somehow they manage to perfectly work together entirely to torture you. Considering Steve's super soldier stamina and Zemo's total understanding of his own body, you are not stopping until you nearly black out.

Din Djarin x Princess! Reader

Words: 8.3k (my longest chapter ever written!)

Warnings: series typical violence, follows episodes 2 + 3, slow burn in the ways of romance, no outright romance in this chapter, some angsty moments

Astravore Masterlist

---

It was so dark. So dark and musty in this storage room. You weren’t sure how long you had been here with the Child. The thugs who had you this time had shoved you in here. There were crates and sacks filled with random junk littering the entire room. These thugs seemed to horde the things they deemed unnecessary. That included, it seemed, you and the Child. It did not include your moonstone jewelry, which they took all of. 

It must have been days, perhaps weeks at that point. There was nothing to do but sit. The Child slept a lot, but on the occasion that he did wake up, you took the opportunity to stretch your legs with him. Pacing back and forth in the dim room, letting the Child trail behind you at his slower pace. Sometimes, you’d snoop through the piles of things that the thugs had accrued. You hummed, sang, told stories, and acted out conversations for the Child. But there was only so long you could handle it.

One day, a commotion started up outside, followed by the sound of blaster fire. It didn’t phase you too much. That same thing had been happening for what you guessed was a few days. It never lasted long and never resulted in anything that affected you. A thug would crack the door open to peek in, snort at you, and then disappear again. 

You counted to 50, but the blaster fire didn’t stop. The thugs outside started to sound panicked. Breaking up the sounds of the thugs’ growling language were two voices yelling in Basic. A chilling sense of fear started a slow crawl up your spine. It sounded like the thugs were losing. 

Your counting got to 100 before the blaster fire faded away, the ringing echoing through the surrounding valley. It was still. Far too still. Then, blaster fire cut through the air once again. The large, metal hatch doors across the room began to glow red in one spot, then spread down to a line. That line trailed into a square, connecting back at its starting point. All too quickly, it went silent again. 

This was something new. Panic rushed through you, grasping at your lungs. Quickly, you scrambled across the cold, rough floor, to where the Child’s carrier was. All too familiar words rang in your head. Protect the Child. He is our hope. Protect him. There was little you could do to protect him from whatever force could take out a group of thugs so easily. So you did the only thing that you could think of. You draped yourself over the pram, shielding it with your own body. 

The glass edges of your moonstone bottle bit into your palm where you clenched it, hidden just behind your thigh. There was only enough water in it for one use. You needed to make it count. Protect the Child. He is our hope. 

With a monstrous creak and groan, the metal of the hangar door peeled away from the frame and fell. The echoing clang of it hitting the floor made you flinch and tremble. Two silhouettes stood out from the daylight that poured in. The sound of your blood rushing in your ears deafened you to the conversation as the two drew closer. It was a man, dressed head to toe in leather, metal armor, and weapons. The black glass of his visor bore into you like an abyss. The other figure was a droid, tall and lanky and scary. Forcing yourself to focus in, you caught snippets of their words. 

“--didn’t say anything about two.” 

“The additional lifeform is inconsequential. The bounty is our focus.” 

A noncommittal grunt left the armored man. His head tilted towards the pram clutched in your arms. 

“C’mon. You know what we’re here for. Be smart.” 

Your lips pressed together, trying to stifle the whimper that threatened to leave you. This bounty hunter was being so kind, it took you aback. Made something burn ugly in your chest. But you weren’t going to run and flee. You had a duty. Protect the Child. 

That decision was immediately rendered null, however, when the lid of the pram snapped open with a whoosh. You silently cursed. Damn Child and his unending curiosity. He looked up at the two looming figures with big, brown eyes. The man stood stiffer. 

“They said it was 50 years old.” 

“Its species likely ages differently. It doesn’t matter. It must be terminated.” 

“What?” 

The rest of the exchange faded away again as the droid raised a gun towards the Child. Closing your eyes tightly, you draped your body over the pram, pressing the baby against your chest. A blaster fired – but before you could use the moon water, the sound of metal clattering against the floor made your eyes snap open. The droid was in a heap, a smoldering hole in its head. Unmoving. The armored man stared at you. You spotted him slipping a blaster back into the holster on his hip. 

He… killed the droid? Saved you? Who was this strange bounty hunter? 

“Can you stand, cabur?” 

The man extended a gloved hand out to you. His weapons were gone, he had kept the droid from killing either of you… and there was nowhere else for you to go. What other choice did you have, except to take it? 

—

The harsh desert sun stung your eyes, making them water. It had been so long since you’d felt the sunlight warm your skin. You wanted to curl up like a feline and nap. The presence of the man walking beside you kept you from relaxing too much. 

He’d been practically silent the entire walk. Only speaking quiet, firm assurances when you stumbled or seemed confused. The silence was as deafening as blaster fire. You pulled the brown fabric closer around you. It was the man’s cloak, which he’d given you back in the storage room. The rags that the thugs had given you to wear months ago were plain, brown, and left much skin exposed. It hadn’t bothered you much, your people were not shy about skin. But the sight had made the armored man inhale deeply and turn his helmeted head to the ceiling. Silently, as he did most things, he had unclipped his cape and thrust it towards you. A demand. Put it on. 

The Child was as happy as you were to be freed from the storage room. He sat up in his pram as it hovered a few inches in front of you, peering around eagerly at the surroundings of this planet. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much to look at – rocks and sand as far as the eye could see. Unlike you, though, the Child had no awareness of the underlying tension of the situation. The man may have saved you two from death, but he was still a bounty hunter. And you had a cold, creeping idea about who had hired him. 

There was no chance you could get the Child away from this bounty hunter. He was far too powerful. You saw it firsthand – a small surviving group of the thugs had ambushed you in the rocky mountains. The bounty hunter fought off each one singlehandedly. It didn’t take more than 5 minutes, you were sure. It was brutal and violent and efficient. This was not someone that you could ever win against. Part of you wondered if anyone in the entire galaxy could. 

Your trek brought you to the edge of a rocky valley. Peering down, you spotted a ship below. It was large, gray, and had lots of wires exposed. It was unlike any ship you’d seen before – though you weren’t sure that was a good thing. Little robed figures scuttled around the ship, carrying parts of it. 

“Dank ferrik!” 

A squeak left your lips when the bounty hunter tugged you down so you were hidden behind the rocky ledge. He pulled the long, frightening rifle from his back, balancing it as he activated the scope. Not entirely sure what was going on, you did your best to keep quiet. Fascination overcame you as your gaze tracked the movements of his fingers. The leather gloves creaked so quietly as his index finger found the trigger. Then, it pulled – 

And one of the little robed figures turned to smoke. A breath you didn’t even realize you were holding was punched out of your lungs. The others in the group started panicking and shouting, quickly rushing into a large, wheeled structure. You hadn’t even realized it was there; it blended into the rocky surroundings so easily. 

The bounty hunter was on his feet in a flash. He ran after the structure before you could even process what was happening. The wheels on it had begun to roll forward, moving faster than you expected. 

Oh suns and moon, the bounty hunter was leaving you behind. 

—

The subsequent chase was one of the wildest things you’d ever witnessed. 

You sat beside the unconscious bounty hunter, panting wildly as you tried to catch your breath. It had been a long, long time since you’d had to run like that. Sweat and desert dust coated your skin. Your bare feet stung from the hot rocks. 

An embarrassing shout left you as the bounty hunter jolted awake. Your fingers dug into the brown fabric covering your chest. For a moment, the two of you just looked at each other, each breathing heavily. 

A coo from the Child broke the moment. You both turned your heads towards him. He was happy as could be, smiling like this was all some game. 

One slow, tired walk later, the three of you were back at the ruins of the ship. The bounty hunter walked through, assessing the damage. Some exposed wires sparked, leaving you standing a safe distance outside. Some of the paneling of the wall had been taken, meaning you could see him inside. 

“...this is your ship?” 

It was a stupid question, but you had to say something. You cringed at how scratchy your voice sounded, beaten by the run and the heat. The bounty hunter’s helmet snapped towards you. He almost seemed shocked to see you, as if he’d expected you and the Child to bolt the moment he was distracted. Not like there was anywhere you could go. 

“It was.” 

Angrily, he tossed a hunk of metal aside. His voice was quiet but firm. Strangely pleasant. Or perhaps you were just sorely deprived of social interaction. He clomped heavily down the ramp, clearly exhausted. 

“Come on. There’s one place we can go.” 

The sun was kissing the rocky mountains on the horizon by the time you reached the bounty hunter’s destination. A set of quaint structures. A farm, you realized. Someone of a species you didn’t recognize met the three of you. 

“Mandalorian. You are alive.” 

The bounty hunter nodded. You peered curiously up at him. Mandalorian? Was that his name? It was certainly an odd one. The man of the other species motioned towards his home. 

“You look tired. You shall rest here. I have spoken.” 

You blinked at his confident tone. He turned and walked away, not bothering to wait for any opinions. Mandalorian caught your expression, tilting his helmet towards you. 

“It’s the Ugnaut’s way of speaking.” 

His hand brushed along the small of your back, gently guiding you to follow the Ugnaut. The dark leather was warm from so long in the sun. Not too far from the home, the Ugnaut started a fire in a stone lined pit. Mandalorian sat hard in the sand with a pained groan. You hesitated for a moment, then forced yourself to speak up. 

“...is there anything I can do to help with the fire? Or dinner?” 

The Ugnaut didn’t even look at you, busying himself with the roaring fire.

“You shall rest. I have spoken.” 

Humiliation burned your cheeks at the rejection. You sulked back over to where the bounty hunter was fiddling with his armor. The sand was still warm as you settled beside him. At this point, the sun had set. Only the orange light of the fire illuminated the space. It flickered against his silver helmet in a way that was almost mesmerizing. 

Your staring was interrupted when he held his hand out in your direction, palm up. Expecting. Cautiously, you placed your hand in his. A sigh left the helmet. Letting go of your hand, he reached down and gently took a hold of your foot. Guiding it to sit against his lap. You watched with wide, shocked eyes as his thumb brushed over the bottom of your foot. The contact stung. The rocks must have cut your feet after a full day of walking and a brief stint of running. 

An ache started in your chest as you watched him work with a careful precision, cleaning the cuts with a pad. The substance on it made your foot twitch, but he kept it still. 

“...so your name is Mandalorian?” 

The quiet laugh that left the bounty hunter made your heart squeeze. His helmet tipped up, like he was peering up at you.

“A Mandalorian is what I am. It’s my religion. You’ve never heard of it?” 

Looking at him in wonder, you shook your head. A religion. No, you were painfully unfamiliar with the other cultures of the galaxy. Only that of your own home planet. Beginning to wrap your foot in bandage, he went on.

“It’s why I wear the armor. By Creed, I’m not allowed to remove my helmet in front of any living thing.” 

“Not even to eat?” 

“No.” 

“Or to drink?” 

“No.” 

“What if someone forcibly removes your helmet?” 

“Then I am no longer a Mandalorian.” 

The splash of emotion in the Mandalorian’s voice made you cease your questions. He began cleaning your other foot while you mulled everything over in your mind. His visor stayed tilted down, focused on his task. It was strange how kind he was being to you. The urge to ask him why was burning on your tongue, but you bit it back. You didn’t want to risk him suddenly changing his attitude. 

The Child squealed in delight. You turned your attention to him as a distraction. Watching him chase after a lizard. He was unsteady on his feet. It had been a long time since either of you had gotten this much exercise. 

“This is the bounty that was causing so much destruction?” 

The Ugnaut stared at the Child with a scrutinizing gaze. The Mandalorian nodded, finishing the last bandage on your foot. His thumb smoothed over the white fabric, ensuring it was properly wrapped. 

“He’s said to be 50 years old, but he seems like a child still. I’m not sure what species he is.” 

Both men’s heads turned to you. Your cheeks burned under their eyes. 

“Um… I don’t know either. Sorry.” 

It was true. Despite how long you’d been guarding the Child, you knew next to nothing about him. Only that he was special. He is our hope. 

The Ugnaut walked over to you, extending a plate to you. It had some sort of cooked meat and a few roasted vegetables. Whatever seasoning he used smelled wonderful. Your stomach growled loudly. How long had it been since you’d eaten anything besides bread? A sincere thanks left you as you accepted the plate from his hands. The Mandalorian gave you your foot back, which you tucked into a comfortable position. 

The meat practically fell apart in your mouth as your teeth sank into it. It was so wonderful, all the royal manners left you in your eagerness. The only thing that stopped you from stuffing your face was the presence of the two other men. The Ugnaut sat a short distance from you two, conversing with the Mandalorian about something you didn’t fully understand. You noticed the Mandalorian didn’t have a plate. 

It wasn’t long until the Child tottered over to you, pulled by the smell of food. He leaned his small hands against your knee, chirping as he looked at your plate with his large eyes. You couldn’t stop the exasperated sigh that fell from your lips. 

You felt guilty getting so frustrated. It wasn’t the Child’s fault, he wasn’t doing what he did on purpose. He was a child. But you didn’t set out to raise a child, not when you were so young. These were challenges you weren’t equipped to deal with. At the beginning of your duty, you’d spent many nights sobbing in pure exhaustion because you simply couldn’t get the Child to sleep. Or like now, when you couldn’t have a moment to focus on yourself because he needed you. You hated to think about it, but there was no denying how much weight you’d lost in the past few years, making sure the Child had plenty to eat first. But you just couldn’t bear the thought of a creature so young and innocent going hungry. 

Carefully, you used your fingers to pull a small chunk of meat free. You held it to the Child’s lips, who was polite as he accepted it. He’d learned to be slow, having cried for 10 minutes the first time he accidentally bit you. After the first piece of meat, the Child wanted a second. Then a third. 

A pair of leather gloves suddenly appeared around the Child’s middle. You and the Child both made a noise of surprise as the Mandalorian gently pulled him into his lap, away from you. Before you could protest, you spotted a plate balanced on the metal armor covering his thigh. All you could do was stare as the Mandalorian started feeding the Child himself. No words, no fuss. 

Allowing you to eat your fill in peace. 

You took a big bite of your vegetables to swallow back the sudden rush of emotions. 

The Ugnaut refused to allow you to help with the cleanup after dinner, or in setting up a spot for you to sleep in. It was kind, but made you feel guilty. The Mandalorian turned down the offer of a sleeping mat, content to lay with his back against a nearby rock. The Ugnaut retreated inside, leaving the three of you alone in the quiet night. The desert planet was peaceful in this area, only the occasional call of an animal in the distance. 

It took a second for you to find a comfortable position on the sleeping mat. It was nothing fancy, but felt far better than the cold floors you’d been sleeping on for years. And a pillow under your head? This was heaven. 

The Child gurgled sleepily as he curled up against your stomach. Seeking the familiar warmth of your body after such an eventful day. Your arms slipped around the little creature, holding him gently. He fell asleep quickly, as usual. But sleep evaded you. Too many thoughts swirled inside your head like a storm. Too many uncertainties and fears. 

“You’re thinking too much, cabur.” 

The late hour had made the Mandalorian’s voice softer. He was careful not to wake the Child, which you were silently grateful for. The visor of his helmet was trained in the distance, on guard for any potential threats. It made you wonder how he had known you were still awake. 

“I’m… scared.” 

You dug your teeth into your cheek, reprimanding yourself for being far too honest with the bounty hunter. You’d meant to give an excuse that would take his attention off you. Instead, your answer made his focus zero in on you. His black visor fixed on your face. You couldn’t see his face, but your skin itched so much, you knew he was looking into your eyes. 

“You and the Child are safe with me. You have my word. I will not let any harm come to you.” 

Something in his voice made you believe him, even when you really shouldn’t have. Strangely, that reassurance was enough to make your eyes start to droop closed. 

“Goodnight, Mandalorian…” 

If there was a response, you didn’t hear it. 

—

You weren’t entirely sure what you were doing. The Mandalorian had woken you and the Child up the moment the sun began to rise. Breakfast was eaten quickly, and by the time the sun was entirely in the sky, the three of you had been piled into the bed of a wagon that the Ugnaut was driving, riding on the back of one of his strange animals. 

It wasn’t until late morning that you reached the large, wheeled fortress from before. The little robed figures – Jawas, as you learned – were bustling about the ramp, setting up wares to sell. They cheered at the sight of the Ugnaut, but that quickly devolved when they spotted the Mandalorian. Their language was a chittering one. It made you regret not being taught anything outside of Basic and Lume. It left you simply sitting idly as the Ugnaut and the Mandalorian conversed back. They migrated to the Jawa’s mat, but a quiet ‘sit tight’ had you glued to your spot. 

The Child tilted his head back and forth, trying to take in everything. You brushed your fingers over his head, smoothing over the little white baby hairs there. Strangely, you felt just about as clueless as he was. It made a sick feeling swirl in your stomach. Being useless. 

But, when you thought about it properly, why should you feel so guilty? Swiping your gaze over the weapons abandoned at your feet, you reminded yourself that the Mandalorian was a bounty hunter. The Child was his bounty. He may have saved you, but he was not your savior. 

Then his soft voice from the previous night rang in your ears, drowning out that logic. The way he gently wrapped you in his cape played on repeat in your brain. Hands that had wiped out an entire gang had held your feet like they were made of porcelain. 

It wasn’t fair. 

A great fire made you jolt back to reality. It was spraying from the Mandalorian’s wrist armor, sending the Jawas diving to the side. You didn’t know he could do that. The Ugnaut settled everyone with more chittering words. Attention lost, you noticed a Jawa walking closer to the floating wagon you were in. The Child had crawled off your lap when the fire shot out, and was now leaning over the edge. That Jawa… was getting way too close. Just as you noticed it, so did the Mandalorian. He shouted in the Jawa’s language, causing the hooded figure to stumble back. You scooped the Child back into your arms, curling up into a ball. It was a familiar position, a habit after so long. You noticed the Mandalorian’s gaze lingering on you. 

Eventually, the Jawas began chanting something. Sooga! Sooga! Sooga! Your eyebrows furrowed, climbing to your feet when the Mandalorian and Ugnaut returned to you. The Mandalorian seemed pissed, shoving his weapons back into their spots on his body. 

“...what’s…Sooga..?” 

He reached out a gloved hand to you, helping you down from the wagon. Your legs felt like jelly. 

“Egg.” 

—

It was a cave. You’d all crammed yourselves inside the Jawas wheeled fortress for at least an hour, just for them to bring you to a cave. And they left you there. Even the Ugnaut left. Only you, the Mandalorian, and the Child’s pram stood in the crater. Staring at the entrance of the cave. 

You did not want to go in there. 

“You stay out here with the Child. If something happens, get to safety.” 

Thank. The. Maker. You nodded, too terrified to get your vocal cords to work. The Mandalorian marched inside the cave without any sort of visible fear. It filled you with respect. The Ugnaut had mentioned that the Mandalorians were a warrior race. You saw what he meant. It wasn’t just the armor or the weapons. It was woven into the body of the Mandalorian before you. A confidence that could only be found in a fighter. 

You weren’t given much time to stress about the situation. Something inside the cave roared mightily. With a clang, the armored bounty hunter was sent flying out of the darkness, his back slamming into the solid mud floor. Despite the heat of the sun, cold dread washed through your veins at the creature that emerged. It was a large, stocky thing, covered in mud and fur-like lichen. A large horn protruded from its muzzle and you were sure its hooves were the size of your face. 

Its amber eyes focused on you. 

That same feeling took hold of you as when the Mandalorian and the droid found you. Your blood rushed in your ears, drowning out the sound of anything else. You felt out of your body as the creature took one step, then another, running towards you. The Mandalorian yelled something. With a click of his vambrace, the pram flew out of the way. In that moment, all sound and sense came flooding back. You raised your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as a glimmering blue barrier formed in front of you. The creature’s horn slammed into it and bounced off harmlessly. But the recoil sent you back into the wall behind you, the air leaving your lungs as your back hit rock. Your vision swam for a few seconds. 

The Mandalorian was fighting the creature when you recovered. Maybe fighting was the wrong term for it. The Mandalorian was getting his ass kicked. His chest plate was sticking up at an angle that you were pretty sure wasn’t right. He was hunched over and moving sluggishly. The mud coated him like a second skin, making all movements too slick to do anything useful. A horrifying thought that you might be watching the bounty hunter’s last moment crossed your mind. He raised the meager knife in his hands, having to hold his wrist to keep it steady. Your hands lifted, ready to shield him, but you were out of juice. 

That’s when something strange happened. The creature slowed its path, then began to float. It flailed and kicked, just as confused as the two of you. A choked noise left the Mandalorian, drawing your eyes to where he was looking. The Child was leaning out of the pram, eyes closed and trembling with effort. His little clawed hands were pointed at the creature. 

Was he doing this? 

Protect the Child. He is our hope. 

The creature slumped onto the ground, dazed and confused. At the same moment, the Child collapsed back into the pram. You and the Mandalorian moved as one; he raced to deal the final blow to the creature while you raced to the Child’s side. His eyes were closed. To your relief, his little chest rose and fell with each breath he took. He was alive, just asleep. 

Wordlessly, the Mandalorian disappeared into the cave again. He emerged a few moments later, clutching a muddy mass coated in the same lichen as the creature. 

“Egg.” 

—

You felt the stare of the Mandalorian prickling along your skin. The stolen parts of the Razor Crest were secured a few feet away. Once again, you found yourself sitting around the glowing fire outside the Ugnaut’s house. The Child was nestled in his pram, still asleep. He’d not stirred since the incident with the creature – a Mudhorn, you learned. 

“Explain it to me one more time.” 

The Mandalorian sighed, sparks spewing from the wires inside his armor. He’d been attempting to fix it for hours now. 

“I can’t. He used some sort of… powers.” 

He set his tool down loudly, visor fixed on where you were picking dried mud flakes out of your hair. 

“You kept this information to yourself.” 

The carefully restrained anger in his voice scared you. 

“N-No, I didn’t know! In truth… There is very little I know about the Child. I wasn’t given a guide. Only told… to take care of him.” 

“Told? By who?” 

A bitter ache throbbed in your heart. Feelings you’d buried were coming back to the surface with a vengeance. But the coiled tension in those armored shoulders told you that you weren’t getting out of this interrogation. 

“...my family.” 

The truth sat heavy and uncomfortable in the air between you three. It was an ugly thought that nobody wanted to look at for too long. That a family could send one of their own off into a dangerous unknown, without even the decency to inform you about your new charge. To force someone so young into a caretaking role that has you constantly passed from thug to thug to bounty hunter. 

The Mandalorian’s posture softened, then dropped altogether. You kept your gaze glued to your lap. If you raised your eyes, the two men would see the tears you were fighting. The Ugnaut coughed an awkward goodnight, disappearing through the door of his home. Leaving only the stifling silence between you and him. 

Figuring out what the man was thinking was impossible. 

— 

Nevarro was a gloomy planet. The gray skies and black landscape left a lot to be desired. The people were shifty and strapped with weapons – though not as many as the Mandalorian. You stuck close to him, pulling the hood of your cloak further over yourself. It was a better fitting one that he’d given you on his ship in return for his cape back, along with a mumbled apology for not having any clothes for you. You understood now why he wanted you to be covered. The stares that followed you made you shudder in disgust. 

It was a funny thing, fate. Your life had many twists you weren’t anticipating. Like feeling safer pressed against the cold armor of the man who was currently marching you into danger. Something that had been nagging at the back of your mind was now screaming at you. The bounty was for the Child, not you. What was your fate? Death? Slavery? Abandonment? Or something worse? 

The Mandalorian’s silver helmet gave no comfort. Visor fixed ahead, he didn’t even give you a glance. But a warm, leather glove found its home on your elbow. Guiding and guarding. 

Or perhaps the anxiety was making you delusional. 

It was a dark, empty alley that he led you and the Child to. The building even required a keycard for entrance. The inside was crawling with stormtroopers. Although this was the first time you’d ever seen any in person, everyone knew what that white armor was. They fell into step behind you; a clear threat. 

The Imperial officer that awaited your arrival was a hunched, creepy man. He watched the Mandalorian with gleaming eyes. Beside him was a more nervous man. None of them even heeded your existence. After a few words of posturing, the man slowly raised himself from his seat. 

“I would like to see the baby.” 

The Mandalorian hesitated, but pressed a button on his vambrace. The pram puttered forwards, then slid open. Your heart ached as you watched the Child coo curiously, his wide eyes as curious as ever. The second man stepped forward, pointing a strange device that scanned the Child’s body. You tensed. That warm, leather hand found your arm once again, both in an attempt to comfort and restrain. You dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek. There were troopers in every corner of this building that could put holes in your body without batting an eye. You were out of moon water, too, meaning no barriers. 

“The Child is remarkably healthy.” 

“Your reputation is not unwarranted, Mandalorian.” 

The only thing grounding you to the moment was the Mandalorian’s grip on your arm. His hand was large enough to wrap around your forearm completely. His voice was steady, but the minute tightening of his fingers made you privy to his emotions. 

“How many tracking fobs did you give out?” 

“The Asset is of… extreme importance to me. I had to… ensure its delivery. But… to the winner… goes the spoils.” 

You watched in horror as a trooper placed a cantino on the table. The truth came crashing back into you. The Mandalorian was turning in the Child to Imperials for money. The Child might die. You had failed your duty. 

“I imagine your… extra passenger will be an additional reward for you.” 

The Imperial officer’s dark gaze sank into your bones, making your whole body feel cold. The Mandalorian, now carrying the cantino in his free hand, once again squeezed your arm. You weren’t sure where his anger was directed. 

The Child cried as the doctor led him away, disappearing through a side door. It took every ounce of your willpower not to run after them. The Child that you’d been in charge of for five years now, gone. You’d never get to bathe him, feed him, or rock him to sleep ever again. 

“What are your plans for him?” 

Seems the consciousness of the Mandalorian wasn’t clear, either. The Imperial officer clicked his tongue. 

“How very uncharacteristic. Isn’t it the Guild’s code that such things are now forgotten? Now… that Beskar will make a handsome replacement for your armor. But I’m afraid finding a Mandalorian to forge it is harder than finding the steel.” 

The grin pulling at his old, cracked lips was mocking. You didn’t know about the Mandalorians’ history with the Empire, but it was enough to make your Mando’s hand tremble. Something occurred to you then, strong enough to pull you from your despair. If you didn’t get the Mandalorian out of there now, he was going to shoot that Imperial officer. Discreetly, you tugged at the hand grasping you. The Mandalorian squeezed back twice in answer. 

…

Lightning cracked across the sky, painting your meager room in an electric lavender light. The wind outside sounded like some terrible creature howling into the heavens. 

The room was pitifully bare, wooden walls and a hard, packed dirt floor. No furniture except a rickety wooden palette with the thinnest blanket imaginable. This was not a home. 

A whimper came from the bundle in your arms. There was this baby, a strange creature that you’d been given the task of raising. Even one year in, you had no idea what you were doing. It felt like gasping for air with no breathing tube in a bacta tank. Clawing at glass walls with nothing to hold on to. This was the first time you’d ever felt like you knew the steps to take.

The Child looked up at you with his large, black eyes. There were tears shining in the faint light. His large ears were drooped down slightly. He was afraid. 

You pulled the scratchy blanket tighter around the two of you. Not allowing yourself time for doubt, a song flowed from your lips like honey. The language of your people was made of soft syllables, designed to soothe those who heard it. The Child stopped his crying, staring at you with what you imagined was wonder. His ears twitched, head tilting one way and the other. 

These lyrics were ones that were carved into your heart. A lullaby that your older sister would sing to you during the rare storms that brewed in the planet’s atmosphere. When you were little and thought the thunder was some monster chasing you, when you’d flee through the palace in your bare feet and push open the large wooden door of Elisa’s room to climb under the covers with her. She would pull you against her chest like you were holding the Child now. 

You wondered if you looked like her now. 

Things had passed in a blur. The Mandalorian’s steps slowed, bringing you back to the present. The two of you were standing at the top of a set of clay stairs that led into the city sewers. Heat on your cheeks caught your attention. When you touched them, your fingers came away wet. 

When did you start crying? 

If the Mandalorian had noticed, he didn’t say anything. The walls swallowed all the sunlight as you descended. For a few feet, it was all endless nothing. Just as you thought to question if he was going to kill you, something came into view. It was hanging from the wall, large and imposing. The skull of some kind of creature, its twin tusks curling upwards. 

Then more Mandalorians appeared. You weren’t sure where they’d come from or when, but you looked around and found yourself surrounded by armored figures. Their gazes were split between two things: the heavy container in your Mando’s hand, and you. The weight of their attention burned into your skin like a brand, making you pull the hood over your face further. It had been a long time since so many people had looked at you. 

The main chamber of this strange hideout was a smithy. The forge stood tall and proud in the center. Tending to it was a Mandalorian with golden armor and a fur cloak across her shoulders. She did not turn when you entered the chamber, nor when your Mando sank to his knees before a small table. Her hammer struck the glowing metal before her, shaping it into something only she knew. The movements were easy, not rushing even as a crowd of Mandalorians filled the entrance. Only when the metal was to her liking did she finish. She left it to cool in a dark liquid as she joined him at the table. The blacksmith opened the container, tilting her helmet curiously as a stack of metal bars spilled out. Methodical movements were used by her to count each one. 

“This Beskar can be shaped in many ways.” 

Her voice rang in your ears in a powerful way. You knew nothing of Mandalorian society, but you could tell that she was important. 

“My armor has been damaged and has lost its integrity.” 

“I can forge a full set, which would be in order for your station. It will draw many eyes, however.” 

The largest Mandalorian in the group stepped into the chamber. He was broad and easily towered over you. His blue armor clanked as he approached and picked up one of the Beskar bars. 

“This was forged in an Imperial smelter. The spoils of the Great Purge of Mandalore and the reason we live in hiding like sand rats.” 

Your Mandalorian’s shoulders drew up tight. The woman in golden armor answered in his stead, still counting. 

“Our secrecy is our survival. Our survival is our strength.” 

“Our strength was once in our numbers. Now, we sneak above ground one at a time. Our world was destroyed by the Empire with whom this coward now shares tables. Even further, he has brought an outsider in our midst.” 

The blue Mandalorian turned his head towards you. While his size was intimidating, you felt no ire from him. You had to tip your head back to look into the dark glass of his visor. A huge, gloved hand reached up, brushing his leather covered fingers under your chin. The moment he touched you, your Mando was on his feet and shoving the blue one away. You stumbled back in surprise, falling onto the floor beside the still calm woman. She tilted her head towards you, and you saw your frightened expression in the reflection of her helmet. 

When the two Mandalorians pull their blades, the woman decides she has had enough. Her voice cuts through the room, freezing all people to their spots. 

“The Beskar has been returned. The Empire has fallen. When one chooses to walk the way of the Mandalorian, they are both hunter and prey. How can one be a coward if one chooses this way of life?” 

Reluctantly the two men separated. It reminded you of an altercation between two nobles of your people who had let their wine speak before their brains. It would’ve been amusing, if it weren’t for the fact that these men were dressed head-to-toe in guns, blades, flame throwers, and other weapons beyond your comprehension. The woman’s head tipped towards your Mando. 

“Have you ever removed your helmet?” 

“No.” 

“Has it ever been removed by others?” 

“No.” 

You swore you saw his chest puff up at that answer. 

“This is the Way.” 

A shiver ran through you as every Mandalorian in the room repeated this phrase in unison. Even the man in blue, though he seemed upset about it. You swallowed thickly as the woman in golden armor stood and held her hands out to you. You cringed as your hands trembled, placing them in hers. She was surprisingly careful helping you to your feet. Although she said nothing to you, her actions seemed to make the stares of the others vanish. You returned to your Mando, whose visor followed you. 

“What has caused the damage to your armor?” 

Their conversation faded into the background of your buzzing heart. The blacksmith moved gracefully to her forge, preparing the metal to be smelted. Her steps reminded you of a waltz – the same fluidity of noble women on the dance floor. You couldn’t take your eyes off her. 

—

Thoughts clouded your mind as you followed behind your Mandalorian. His brand new armor gleamed silver in the fading sunset. 

Why were you still here? Well, you knew why you were. There was nowhere else for you to go. You could probably run. You weren’t the Mandalorian’s bounty; he wouldn’t chase you. But that would only result in you being lost in the lava plains of Nevarro. Even if you did find a ship, you had no credits to pay for a fare back home. You weren’t naive enough to accept a ride from someone who didn’t ask for credits. These years had taught you to grow up quickly. The question, then, was why was your Mandalorian keeping you around? 

The cantina fell silent the moment the door slid open in front of you. You were almost envious of the way your Mandalorian could ignore their stares and march forward. Behind him, your eyes were glued to your still bare feet. The bandages he’d wrapped around them a couple of days ago were dirty. 

A man with dark skin and a wide grin stood from his table, spreading his arms wide in greeting. 

“Congradulations, Mando, for winning the richest reward in the parsec. Please, sit. Let me treat you.” 

Your Mandalorian stopped beside the table. His leather covered hand gently ushered you into the booth seat first. He slid in next to you, pressing you between him and the wall. His large thigh was warm against yours, mixed with the cold bite of the Beskar plate there. The man across from you gave you a curious glance, but the clatter of your Mandalorian’s blaster on the table made him swallow back any questions he had. 

“The others are weighing the Beskar in their minds. But not me. I celebrate your success! Because your success is my success.” 

From the inner pocket of his vest, the man produced a single bar of Beskar, similarly stamped with the symbol of the Empire. He sent a wink your way – not flirty, more like a playful uncle. 

“You’ve made me rich! So, how can I show my gratitude to my most valuable partner?” 

“I want my next job.” 

The man sputtered against the rim of his tankard. 

“Take some time off, Mando! I could take you and the lady to a wonderful Twi’lek healing baths.” 

“My next job.” 

The details of the bounty he chose were nonsense to you. Nobles and bail jumping and oceans. But your Mandalorian’s final words surprised you. 

“What are they going to do with it? The bounty.” 

Greef Karga, you learned his name was, furrowed his eyebrows. He was caught off guard, just like you. 

“I… didn’t ask. It’s against the Guild code.” 

“What is the Empire doing in Nevarro?” 

Karga sighed, rolling his shoulders. You thought he would fit right in with some of the diplomats on your home planet. 

“The Empire is gone. All that’s left are mercenaries and warlords. Look, if it bothers you so much, go back to the Core Worlds and report it to the New Republic.” 

A scoff fell from your Mandalorian’s lips, loud enough to be caught by the modulator. 

“That’s a joke.” 

He stormed out, leaving you scrambling after him. The sun was almost completely hidden behind the horizon. The breathtaking orange and pinks were being overtaken by indigo. It was getting hard to see. The streets were empty at this point, citizens retiring to their homes for the night. 

Your Mandalorian stopped at the entrance to the ship dock. It was so abrupt that you almost ran into his back. His hands were clenched at his sides so tight that his shoulders shook. Fighting through your nerves, you reached up and placed a hand on his bicep. 

“...Mandalorian..?” 

“We’re getting him back.” 

—

The rescue mission went wrong so fast. Getting in and out of the Imperial hideout was the easy part. Your Mandalorian ripped and tore through the stormtroopers with a vengeance. It was the aftermath where it all turned on its head. The bounty fob of every member of the Hunter’s Guild went off. 

Now the entire city of Nevarro was shooting at the three of you. 

You swallowed back tears as you laid flat on your back in the motionless lift. Your Mandalorian’s metal chestplate pressed against you from above, pinning you in place. The Child cooed and squirmed in your arms. 

From this angle, you couldn’t see what was happening. Only watch the helmet of your Mandalorian as he tried to find a way out of this for you. One that preferably didn’t end with the three of you full of blaster holes. 

Over the Mandalorian’s shoulder, the gleam of a blaster scope caught your attention. It was a bounty hunter stationed on the roof of the building next to you. Your tongue felt glued to the roof of your mouth, fear rendering you unable to warn your armored protector. Then… you noticed something else. 

Just behind the enemy bounty hunter, hanging in the inky indigo sky. The clouds drifted apart, letting the silver light of Nevarro’s moon spill into the makeshift battlefield. You felt a pull in your heart, the familiar tingle. Just as the bounty hunter pulled the trigger, you raised your hands on either side of the silver helmet you’d grown to trust. Your Mandalorian looked at you quizzically. A shot cracked through the air. 

But the blaster bolt slammed right into the shimmering blue barrier above the three of you. The force of it made your muscles strain, but you didn’t let your shield falter. More blaster shots hit it uselessly. After a few seconds, the confused bounty hunters stopped firing. 

The silence was unnerving. You and your Mandalorian stared at each other, faced only inches apart in the wagon. Between you, the Child whimpered, sensitive ears irritated from the shots and shouting. In that moment, you felt an understanding pass through you and your unexpected companion. 

This was going to be the last stand. 

However, the night was not over yet. 

Someone in the area shouts in fright. Several figures shoot into the sky, descending upon the city in a rain of blaster fire. The familiar gleam of blue armor plates draws your eyes. 

The other Mandalorians had come to your aid. Using their jetpacks to gain leverage on the retreating bounty hunters. The man in blue landed near the lift as you and your Mandalorian sat up. Your barrier blinked into nothingness. 

“Escape while we provide cover.” 

“You’ll have to relocate the covert.”

“This is the Way.” 

Emotion sat thick in your throat at the display of unity. You dipped your head in gratitude to the blue Mandalorian, who returned it with one of his own. 

The three of you managed to make it to the Razor Crest before anyone found you. Greef Karga’s small blaster clicked as he stood on the open ramp. 

“You broke the code, Mando.” 

You pressed yourself closer to a nook in the metal wall, clutching the Child to your chest. Letting your Mandalorian deal with this personal matter. He shared no words with the leader of the Guild. Using his grapple line, he filled the air with thick tibanna gas, blinding Greef Karga. A single shot had Karga on the ground outside the ship. The ramp slid closed with your Mandalorian’s vambrace remote. 

And like that, you were safe. You slumped against the cold metal floor, all the adrenaline draining from your body. Your Mandalorian climbed into the cockpit and got the ship out of Nevarro’s airspace. 

The Child squealed and cooed happily, climbing out of your arms when he realized where you were. You watched him tiredly from your spot. Luckily, he was uninjured. You dreaded what rage would have been unleashed in your Mandalorian if he had been hurt or worse. 

A dull throbbing started in your arms. Your biceps felt like you had been holding a large barbell over your head. 

“Still with me, cabur?” 

Your vision was filled with the silver of Beskar. Mando’s warm hands cupped your cheeks, checking you for any harm. It made your skin burn. 

“Yeah. I’m here.” 

His hands traveled down your neck and arms. You winced when he got to your sore muscles. But you were quick to dismiss the concern that was emanating from him. 

“Just a drawback of my ability. I’m only sore.” 

“You protected me.” 

The intensity of Mando’s stare was suddenly too much. The ship felt too hot, even in your still scanty robes. 

“You saved me.” 

Hey everybody!! I wanted to get some content out there while I work on the next chapter of The Seed of the Moon as well as the first chapter of Astravore. So, I decided to make a post explaining some general information about the planet/kingdom I created especially for these fic series! Of course, there are some secrets that I won't reveal here, which will be explored in the stories. This is mainly general knowledge that you could find in textbooks on the planet.

Starting with a visual! This drawing is by my wonderfully talented bestie @itz-bitz ! To clarify, this is how I personally see Reader for myself. That being said, the writing will always be for a Reader, meaning no physical attributes will ever be described besides being a fem! Reader. (It's what I'm used to and comfortable with. If you would like to request a oneshot with a nonbinary Reader, please hit up my inbox!!)

That being said, let's start from the beginning.

Religion

The planet of Lumene has three deities. Mother Sun, Father Sun, and the Moon Child. These are represented by the planet's two suns and single moon that they have. Mother Sun is the goddess of strength and magic, appearing as a woman in warrior's armor. Because of this, Lumene is a matriarchal society. Father Sun is the god of indulgence, often depicted lounging in robes with fruits and alcohol. He represents Lumene's hedonistic culture. The Moon Child is a two faced god, existing in both a feminine and a masculine. They are the god of love, taking domain over all of Lumene's culture of romance. Because of this, most Lumene courting rituals take place at night. Doing so on a new moon is seen as a bad omen.

In Lumene mythology, the Moon Child was killed. This is because being born as 'moon blessed' in the royal family is so rare. Thus, the few that are born as thought of as a reincarnation of the Moon Child. (This is not true, however, and only a myth. The rarity is only due to recessive genes and has nothing supernatural involved.)

In the modern day, these mythologies and the deities are mostly stories to the Lumene society, and not revered as seriously as they were in the past.

Founding

The kingdom of Lumene is the only major city that exists on the planet that shares its name. It was founded centuries ago by two historical figures known as the Blessed Brothers. Aramil, the First Sun Blessed and Hazen, the First Moon Blessed. The exact origins of the Brothers are unknown to the public. The story that the citizens are taught is that Aramil and Hazen followed the light of Mother Sun to the uninhabited planet and settled in the peninsula between the Silver Sea where the moon rises and the Golden Sea where the two suns rise.

These two brothers were blessed by the gods with magic abilties, which they passed down through the generations of the royal family. This became known as "va sysfaas" (sun blessed) and "ziimo sysfaas" (moon blessed). Because Aramil is the direct ancestor of the royal family, it is most common for the royals to be sun blessed, giving them offense abilities. But, every few generations, a moon blessed child is born, who has defense abilities.

The Blessed Brothers, as the First Blessed, were gifted two abilities. Aramil's abilities were Release and Devour. Hazen's were Contain and Foresight.

The current royal family consists of:

Queen Deci (Ability: Paralysis) -- King Mis

Princess Elisa (eldest) (Ability: Obstacle)

Prince Nic (Ability: Brute)

Crown Princess Kane (Ability: Pierce) -- Prince Consort Canaan

Prince Jace (Ability: Pitch)

Prince Sahm (Ability: Blaze)

and the youngest Princess, our Reader. (Ability: Barrier)

Additionally, these abilities are sourced from light. For example, for Reader, she can use her abilities with no cost when under the light of any moon. However, if there is no moon, she requires either moon water (water from a moon) or moonstones to use her ability. The reverse is true for sun blessed.

Geography

The kingdom of Lumene is the only city on the planet. It is nestled between the Silver Sea and the Golden Sea, both of which take up the majority of the planet. Additonal biomes are the Solar Jungle, which produces a delicacy called the Sun Fruit. Nestled in the jungle is the Sun Temple and the small village that tends to it. The Lunar Mountains, which grows Moon Lichen. Similarly, the mountain is home to the Moon Temple and the settlement that tends to it.

Not all of Lumene is hospitable, however. At the very northern pole of the planet is the Northern Circle, a ring of volcanoes so hot that any droid that approaches it melts within seconds. Because of this, what lies at the center of the ring is a complete mystery. Oppositely, at the southernmost pole of the planet is a large, arctic lake surrounded by icebergs, known as the Southern Vortex. The center of the lake has a terrifying whirlpool that draws in anything unlucky enough to enter the water. It is completely unknown what is causing the whirlpool.

On a less horrifying note, two major establishments in the capital city of Lumene are the bathhouse (as pictured in the drawing) and the nightclub. The nightclub is a newer form of indulgence popular among the young adults of the kingdom. Its located in an underground cave filled with bioluminescent flora. Its like any modern nightclub, save for the requirement of masquerade masks and all erasure of one's real identity. The bathhouse is just a normal bathhouse.

Culture

The three main values of Lumene society are opulence, indulgence, and romance. (Almost) the entirety of the capital is thriving.

In the ways of currency, the planet has three types of coin. Sol, which are large, circular gold coins (about the size of an American half dollar coin). Lun, which are medium, crescent shaped silver coins (size of an American quarter). And Aster, which are small, four point star shaped copper coins (size of an American nickel).

Additionally, there are certain materials that are valuable and sought after by the people of Lumene. Crystals that catch light more are seen as more valuable than those that don't. Moonstone and Sunstone are worn only by the royal family. Ivory is a natural forming mineral on the planet of Lumene, highly sought after for jewelry and other accessories.

As Lumene is a culture that reveres all forms of light, artists focus on creating pieces that utilize light in new and unique ways. This includes stained glass sculptures, glowing statues, and even ways to wear light.

With the introduction of droids into society, Lumene's focus on indulgence skyrocketed. Droids were able to take on the hard tasks, so the citizens of Lumene could spend their days pursuing their passions. The nobility of the planet love to throw parties, even if there's no reason for one other than being bored. These galas are ripe with drama and gossip every time, because that's what keeps Lumene's society flowing.

Romance is also extremely important in the planet's culture. While there is no limitations about sexual orientation or gender identity, romance is stressed as one of the most important things in a person's life. A couple's courting period must be entertaining for the public. Gifts are expected to be highly expensive and unique to the person receiving it. Poetry is an important aspect of the romantic experience. Events like engagements should be dramatic and weddings are a luxurious, week long celebration.

The main love languages of Lumene are words of affirmation (poetry and love letters) and physical touch. Gift giving is also a vital aspect, specifically for the purpose of asking someone to court. Courting gifts are a competition among suitors, aiming to choose the most extravagant and loud gift in order to out-do anyone else who may be interested in that person.

---

For now, I believe that's all the information I can give you all about Lumene. There is more to be discovered!

3.2k

Warnings: vaguely implied Tony x Reader x Pepper?

--

"Someone looks like they're having a good day."

You could feel your once dormant anger flare back up to a boiling point. It wasn't Tony's fault, he didn't know. He was just being playful, he was a man of banter. Pepper, having just sat through 30 minutes of heated debrief with you, rolled her eyes as she hid behind the rim of her Shirley Temple. She had just managed to calm you down, and of course Tony has to ruin it. Poor man had no idea what he just unleashed on himself.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark. Actually, I am having a great day. I just love starting off my work day by learning that in my relationship of four years, I had actually been a side piece!"

"What?"

If possible, Tony looked more scandalized than Pepper had. He shut the door to the break room you and Pepper had been hiding out in, joining the ginger at the table. She silently passed him her Shirley, which he took a drink from as he kept his focus intently on you.

"I'm serious. I had been a side piece. To his wife. That he's been with since high school."

"No!"

"Yeah!"

You groaned in frustration, sitting heavily in the stool across from the couple. Tony clicked his tongue, passing Pepper's drink to you.

"I told you that John was no good. I could tell."

A sharp glare was sent his way by both women. You drained the drink in a few gulps.

"What's his social security, spitfire? I can put him under IRS investigation and make it look realistic."

When you looked up suddenly, eyes glimmering, that's when Pepper stepped in.

"Okay... no. As tempting as that may sound - and trust me babe, I've been in your shoes, I know how tempting it is - we're not doing that. I don't feel like having the U.S. Army breathing down our necks. Again."

Tony pouted at her like a child that had been denied a toy. Pepper patted his knee.

"There's ways for women to deal with this sort of thing in a normal, non-government involved way..."

Your shoulders slumped. Pepper was, as always, correct. It would be fun to tank his credit score and put him under the magnifying glass of the IRS, but there were better, healthier alternatives. Therapy, meditation, a movie date with a family-sized tub of ice cream-

"...that's why you're going to pop open the hood of his car and take his spark plugs."

"Oh my God, I literally love you Pepper."

--

This past week had been a nightmare.

After confronting your now ex-boyfriend about his secret wife, you had proceeded to throw him out of your apartment and leave his belongings on the curb. Watching him struggle to start his car at 10 pm did make you feel a little better, knowing his spark plugs were safely hidden away in your dresser drawer. But then came the next few days of removing his socials, explaining the situation to 100 different people, and even having to block his wife on Instagram because she for some reason (you had a good guess that started with 'J' and ended in 'ohn') was convinced the affair was YOUR fault.

It was exhausting. As much as Tony and Pepper had been a huge support system for you throughout the entire ordeal, there was only so much your boss and superior could do for you.

Which led you to where you were now. Stepping out of the Stark Industries copy room after coming down from a panic attack. You were silently praying that the hall was empty, knowing that you wouldn't be able to explain away the mascara trails on your cheeks (you were cursing yourself for never bringing your makeup to work with you). It seemed life was giving you a break, because there was nobody in sight.

You gathered yourself, knowing you needed to stop hiding and get back to work, even though you knew that would mean facing Pepper - who would immediately notice your distress. Clenching your fists at your side, you began to walk down the hall-

-only for someone to bump directly into you.

It wasn't rough - you ended up only staggering back one step from the person's body mass.

"Shit, I'm so sorry-"

Your words halted when you laid eyes on the man. You had never seen him before, you were sure of it. You certainly would have remembered eyes as hauntingly brown as his. Still, as he stared back at you, you had this chilling sense of deja vu. A nagging voice pressing against your subconscious telling you that this was someone you knew, someone important. Your eyes flitted down to the Stark Industries name tag clipped to his blazer pocket. Theo Broussard. You made a mental note to use FRIDAY to look up his employee file later.

Realizing that you had been staring longer than socially accepted, your eyes snapped back up to his face. His head was tilted just barely, and it felt like his eyes were taking you in. Analyzing you.

"You-"

Several things happened in that moment. The security alarm started going off through the building. Your gaze landed on the file that Theo was holding in his hands. Then, you heard shouts and footsteps from down the hall. Theo swore softly under his breath, but when you turned back to look at him, he was gone.

You blinked in shock at the spot where he had been standing, ignoring the security officers that ran by. It wasn't until Tony appeared that you snapped back to yourself. He held your shoulders gently but firmly, eyes flitting over your face. You knew he was seeing the mascara stains.

"Let's get you to my office, c'mon. If he hurt you, I swear to God I'll hunt him down myself."

As your boss led you toward the elevator, only one thought crossed your mind.

What the fuck just happened?

--

Three knocks rang out clear through Zemo's hotel room.

Cold dread settled in his chest. After the close call with Stark's security two days ago, he had been lying low, pouring over the file he had procured. He had been anticipating this the entire time, just waiting for the authorities, SHIELD, or even Tony Stark himself to show up at his door. As he peered into the peep hole, his hand tightened on the handle of the gun tucked into the back of his waistband.

...it was the girl.

The one he had run into just outside of the file room before the alarms went off.

It wasn't until a couple hours after his escape, when the adrenaline wore off, that he registered who she was. Pepper Pott's assistant - indirectly also making her Stark's assistant.

The fingers on his gun twitched as he contemplated what to do. Technically speaking, she wasn't a threat. She had to be about 10 years his junior (he was still getting used to being 35 again) and was definitely not physically built like a fighter. Still, the fact that she was here at his door meant that there was a chance someone else could be waiting for him, out of sight.

"I know you're in there. The teen girl at the front said you haven't left your room in two days. She's developed quite the little crush on you."

Zemo huffed. There goes his idea to pretend nobody was home.

"Why do you think I'll open the door?"

"Relax, Baron. I'm alone."

She used his title. That meant she had done some kind of background research on him. He sighed. Oh, what the hell.

He yanked open the door just a little, leaning in the doorway.

"What do you want."

You snorted, pushing past him into the room. Zemo was so taken aback, he didn't even try to stop you.

"I'm sure you know."

As you examined the contents of the hotel room, your eyes landed on the desk. The file he took was laid out on the surface, documents spread around and annotated in red ink. The notes were made in a language that you didn't recognize.

"What are you doing with the file that you stole?"

Zemo crossed his arms over his chest, shutting the door behind him.

"I borrowed it. How did you even find me?"

"Answer my question."

"Answer mine first."

You pursed your lips, annoyed. He shared the sentiment.

"Really, it was easy. Being so close to Tony, I'm able to get access to a lot of things. I got your P.O. box from your file in the employee database. Then, I had FRIDAY pull up every security camera available in the surrounding area until I found footage of you. Followed the video trail to this hotel. After that, it was just a matter of gossiping with the girl at the front until she let your room number slip. Girls will be girls, especially when it involves handsome men."

Zemo swore under his breath. Damn girls and their attraction to older men.

"That is awfully stalker-like of you. How did you find my real identity?"

"FRIDAY used facial recognition. You probably shouldn't be breaking into one of the most high tech companies in the world if you're a royal and a celebrity in your country."

Great.

"You mean the pile of rubble that used to be my country?"

Your expression softened.

"Sokovia is still your country. But... I'm sorry. About Novi Grad. About your family. If... If I had known what Tony and Bruce were working on... I would've tried to stop him. Pepper and I both."

Zemo sighed. He couldn't even pretend to be angry or upset. Even experiencing the aftermath of The Fall all over again, he was too numb. Bitter? Yes. No amount of years could get rid of the bitterness in his chest, a charred lump nestled in his ribcage that appeared the moment he found his family in the rubble the first time.

"I appreciate it. Really."

You weren't the first person to show sympathy towards him. Ever since he made a public statement about the incident a few months back (he had also found the woman that had confronted Stark in the first timeline and he consoled her about her son) people had been showing grief about Sokovia left and right. Even if they had never heard of the country before.

He may or may not have used that to guilt trip the government into killing the Sokovia Accords.

Shockingly easier than he thought it would be.

"Is that why you stole the file? Are you planning revenge or something?"

An amused noise left Zemo's throat. Revenge. How cute. He had tried that before, and how did it end? With him in a cell for 10 years. Then in the middle of the ocean.

"No. The file that I borrowed has nothing to do with Ultron."

He moved past her, taking a seat in the desk chair. He crossed one leg over the other, focused solely on her.

"What file did you borrow, then?"

"Why are you so interested in my business?"

This was the guy that Sokovian news articles had praised as the most charming and lovable man in Novi Grad? You wanted to punch him.

"Are you going to keep deflecting all my questions with questions of your own?"

"Yes."

Scratch that. You definitely were going to punch him.

You sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing him. Your fingers smoothed over the fabric of the blankets as you thought about how to phrase what you were going to say. To his merit, Zemo waited patiently. You were struck by how neatly the blankets were tucked in. It reminded you of how your dad used to make the bed after his time in the Navy.

"When I... ran into you that day. I felt this... pull. I know that probably sounds weird, but I don't know what else to call it. It's like... something is telling me that I'm supposed to be involved in this. Do I sound crazy?"

The dark shade of his brown eyes startled you. Part of you was afraid that you had said the wrong thing, that he was going to throw you out. When his melted chocolate gaze landed on you, a jolt shot through your body. Not fear per se. It was... electric, starting from your fingertips and pooling in your stomach.

"Perhaps... not as crazy as you suspect..."

The words were soft, almost muttered. Like he was talking more to himself than to you.

"As Stark's assistant, how much access do you have to the Compound?"

"Pepper's assistant. I have a good amount of freedom in the Compound. Pretty sure the only place I don't have access to is the Avengers' living quarters."

His eyes gleamed with something terribly intelligent.

"How unusual would it be for you to be in the file area?"

Your mind was reeling, confused as to what he was getting at. You raised your hands, making a time out motion.

"Woah, woah. Why do you need more files? Are those not what you needed?"

Zemo's eyes momentarily drifted to the desk behind him. He hummed in displeasure.

"Those are unrelated."

"Then why did you steal them?"

"To keep them away from Stark."

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He had stolen one of the files from Stark Industries to keep Stark from seeing it? Whatever he had stolen, it was having the opposite effect. Stark and Pepper were working double time trying to figure out what file had been taken. Not wanting to risk his temper, you politely kept this to yourself.

"So what file do you need now?"

He sighed, dropping his leg from his lap and running his fingers through his hair, mussing the brown strands from their spot.

"A folder that contains a map and a location."

Frustration flared hot through your veins at his non answer. You were having too shitty of a week to keep playing these fucking games. Standing from the bed, you crossed your arms over your chest, knowing you weren't the most intimidating person but trying to portray your anger.

"Look, clearly you need my help. But I'm not going to give that to you if you keep up the bullshit vague answers. If I'm going to do this for you, I'll be risking everything. My job. My friends. My reputation. I could go to jail. So I think it's more than fair of me to want to know what file I'm going to be sneaking out of a building with a super soldier, multiple super powered individuals, some of the most intelligent people in existence, and a literal god."

Taken aback by your outburst, Zemo sat silently for a few moments. His expression was guarded, preventing you from figuring out what he was thinking. A tired groan slipped from his lips, rubbing his hands down his face.

"Fine, fine. I can't argue with that."

With that confirmation, you sat back down, waiting for him to continue.

"Since Rogers exposed Hydra within SHIELD, their remaining covert agents have spent a lot of blood, sweat, and tears attempting to cover up what secrets aren't already on the internet. And yes, there are things that were not in Ms. Romanov's files that she posted. Hydra has existed in the shadows for decades without anyone catching on. It's foolish not to think there are plenty of secrets that were not kept within the SHIELD database."

He paused, looking at you for confirmation that you were following along. You nodded and he continued.

"One such secret was the Winter Soldier program."

"Bucky Barnes."

"James is the widely known title holder of Winter Soldier, yes. Very good. What isn't known is that there were other test subjects in the program. Six of them to be exact. James was the only successful subject, so the others were put to rest."

"They were killed?"

Zemo couldn't help but laugh at your wide-eyed expression. You felt heat creeping up your neck to your cheeks from embarrassment - not from the smooth, rich sound of his laughter. No. It was embarrassment.

"No, myška, I was being literal. The six super soldiers are currently being held in cryo-freeze in an abandoned Hydra base."

"And the map in this file holds the location to the base?"

"Correct."

You pursed your lips as you processed this information. Six super soldiers. If those fell into the wrong hands, that could be destruction and chaos. But... was the man before you the right hands?

"So you want to find the base, get to the super soldiers, and...?"

A knowing look flashed across Zemo's eyes. His expression darkened.

"If you are insinuating that I may be planning to use these super soldiers for my own gain, you are foolish. Super soldiers are far too powerful to be allowed to continue their existence. The motivation that you are suspecting of me is the very thing that I am looking to prevent. I am not going to wake up the super soldiers and use them. I am going to kill them."

You believed him. His expression, his words, his breathing was too intense to be lying. All of it was pure, genuine emotion. Thickly swallowing back your nerves, you nodded.

"Next Saturday is the Avengers' Christmas party at the Compound, and Tony has made it very clear that I'm invited."

"Hm. Perfect. You attend the party and find an opportunity to slip away and retrieve the file."

"We find."

Zemo looked up from where he was staring at the floor, brainstorming.

"What?"

"We find an opportunity to get the file. I'm allowed a Plus One."

He grimaced.

"Lovely idea, just one problem. I just stole from Stark Industries after pretending to be the on site therapist for a month. They'll recognize me."

You hummed.

"True. ...unless someone with access to Tony's personal computer had scrambled your employee profile after figuring out your real identity. Effectively wiping your existence from the database before they could get to it."

Zemo's eyes glimmered, staring at you in what seemed to be awe. A smile fought its way onto his lips.

"Genius, myška. Then yes, we can look for a perfect opening to get the files. Where is the party being held?"

A weird sense of pride filled your chest at his praise.

"The lounge area in the living quarters. So the 3rd floor. The files are all held in the basement level."

"What do you know about the drinking habits of the Avengers during get togethers?"

"Everyone will be tipsy, except for Steve and Thor. They basically can't get drunk unless they drink enough to kill a horse. Super soldier and Norse god."

"We can work with that. Just have to avoid them. What about cameras? It will look suspicious for me to be down there."

"I can deal with that, don't worry."

A skeptical look was sent your way, but Zemo ultimately decided to trust you. He mulled over the details in his mind a little more. A small smile creeped onto his lips.

1k

Warnings: Comic Zemo slander

--

Baron Helmut Zemo was having a really weird week.

And it all started with that pesky Dr. Strange.

Had he ever met the man? No. But he still filed the name away in the section of his brain titled PERSONAL VENDETTAS. Because of course, the moment that the public finds out that the multiverse is real, its because Dr. Strange and that kid Spider-Man fucked it up. That's just their luck.

Normally, Zemo wouldn't have cared. He saw the news coverage from the TV visible from his cell in the Raft. Three different versions of Spider-Man fighting a group of villains that were supposedly from different universes.

Another week of bullshit in New York City.

He DID care, however, when he got involved against his will. He was just reading a book, trying to fight the never-ending urge to see how many times he could bang his head against the wall of his cell before he passed out from blunt force trauma or the guards physically stopped them. When his vision started blurring so badly that he couldn't tell if the words were English, Sokovian, German, or Spanish, he decided it was time to stop. Just in time, too. The lights in his cell and in the main area outside dimmed until he could just barely make out the outline of his own hand. One of the guards from the endless amount of faceless Raft workers announced that it was 'lights out', as if the prisoners couldn't tell.

Being trained as a soldier from a very young age, as well as being raised to be the perfect gentleman worthy of inheriting the barony, Zemo was used to routines. In fact, he would go as far as to say he LIKED routines. Organization preventing chaos.

There was routine in the Raft. Every day, the same things happened at the same time in the same exact way. He fucking hated it. It was so damn mind numbing. If he had known ahead of time how bland and boring this all would be, he honestly might have begged Bucky to shoot him in front of the Sovokian Memorial. Or maybe he could've convinced the Wakandans to just punch his lights out. Eating his teeth after a good right hook from the Dora Milaje would have been much more enjoyable than this shit.

Just like he did every night, Zemo began to run through his favorite Sokovian fairy tales in his head. He rationalized it as his version of counting sheep, a completely normal thing that people did. Deep down, he knew what it really was. A feeble attempt at procrastinating falling asleep for as long as possible. Because he was far too cowardly to face his family every time he closed his eyes. Still, it was inevitable. Sisyphus rolling the stone up the hill over and over again, knowing that in the end it will fall and he will have to start again.

This time, when he closed his eyes, he did not see his family. He did not see his country, his home up in flames. He did not hear the screams of his people, crying out for help that he could not provide. He did not hear the fighting, the metal clashing as the Avengers fought the Ultron clones.

No, this time he was in a field. Lush green grass, bright blue skies with a warm sun. A mountain range lining the horizon.

Germany.

He couldn't explain how he knew it. It was just... there, in the back of his mind. A soul deep knowledge that the place he was standing was somewhere in Germany. It was hazy, like he was looking at the world through a dreamy filter on a phone. His body felt oddly light.

"Helmut!"

His head turned at the sound of his name floating through the air. A stone castle stood proudly in the field. It was worn enough that he could tell it was old, but well-kept enough that it was obvious there had been someone living in it regularly for years. A woman was walking toward him from the direction of the building. She had blonde hair that flowed regally around her when she walked, and cold blue eyes.

"I was hoping to have a moment of peace. This had better be important."

Standing behind him was a man that Zemo could instantly clock as royalty. It was in the way he carried himself - shoulders squared, back straight, chin up. He was looking right through Zemo, toward the woman that had called his name.

Was this man... an alternate version of himself?

Holy shit, he was going crazy. Really, with the Raft, it was only a matter of time. Though, he thought it was going to be something fun, like Flat Earthers. Not this shit.

"What are you doing out here? Cloud-gazing? Captain America has once again foiled your plans. How will the Zemo family ever become the master rulers if you're sitting outside with your head in the clouds?"

Oh. Dear. Gods.

His alternate self was....

That is correct.

All movement around him froze in place. The voice he heard was strange. It was hard to figure out what direction it was coming from - or if it was coming from his mind. It seemed to echo together in several different frequencies.

"Who are you?"

That is not for you to know yet. But you will come to know me in time.

"Okay... that's ominous. Why are you showing me my alternate self? Is he really a...?"

Yes. In this universe, Sokovia never existed. Baron Helmut Zemo is following in the footsteps of his father Heinrich Zemo, a well-known Nazi. This Helmut even goes on to become a leader of Hydra several times. But... his story is not a happy one.

"Honestly, I'm glad. If I'm this shitty of a person in another universe, then it serves me right to have a horrible life."

Hm... what a peculiar response. He is you. You are him. And yet you show no sympathy for his misfortunes?

"A Nazi is a Nazi. Even if he is a version of me."

You are a funny one, Helmut. You will do nicely.

"Nicely for... what?"

Metanoia - the journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life.

3k

Warnings: lore dumping in the form of a dinner table conversation. Din Djarin is a yearner

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Your fingers tapped nervously on the windowsill as you gazed out of your new window. Until your wedding ceremony, you were given a guest suite to stay in. It was beautiful and the view of Sundari was breathtaking. You were too lost in thought to truly enjoy the sight. 

Why had things changed so drastically? Bo-Katan lost the tournament this time. Instead, the Manda’lor was a man named Din Djarin. 

Luckily, you’d managed to probe Fennec for a little information. Bo-Katan’s family used to be affluent in the politics of Mandalore, but her sister was assassinated and the family fell to ruin. Fueled by rage, Bo swore to become the next Manda’lor and seek out revenge. But in the very last match, she lost to Din. 

You’d asked Fennec about Din, too. All she did was smile wider. ‘You’ll find out on your own, I’m sure.’ That’s what she said. 

As you watched the colorful streamers float in the blue sky, something came to mind. Something Elisa said to you once. What did she call it… a Butterfly Effect. When a butterfly flaps its wings, a tornado forms somewhere else. It sounded silly when you were a child. Now you were starting to understand. 

By some mysterious Force, perhaps the one that granted you a second life, your choice to save Elisa changed the entire course of destiny and made Din Djarin win the tournament and become Manda’lor. 

But…how different was Din truly going to be from Bo-Katan Kryze? You needed to find out. 

A knock on the door broke your thoughts. Someone must have brought your luggage up. When packing, you had tried to keep it as light as possible. You didn’t want the Mandalorians to think you were a spoiled brat. 

“I brought your luggage up myself. I hope you don’t mind.” 

Din stepped shyly into your bedroom. He was carrying your three large suitcases all by himself. It made you fidget nervously with your fingers. 

“Thank you, your Majesty.” 

That term made Din shudder. You suspected it was disgust. He set the suitcases down beside the bed.

“To be completely honest… I’m a little concerned about the amount of things you brought.” 

Dread swirled in your stomach. With his face hidden behind a helmet, it was impossible to tell what emotion Din was experiencing. His tone didn’t provide any hints, either. You tried to keep your voice even. 

“Apologies. I should’ve been more considerate of how much I packed. I can send some back to Lumene.” 

Din’s helmet whipped to look at you so fast, you were a bit worried he’d given himself whiplash. 

“You… misunderstand, princess. I’m worried you’ve brought too little.” 

A weird warm feeling settled in your chest.

“I didn’t want to stand out against Mandalore’s culture. I understand that Mandalorians are less impressed with flashy wealth than the people of Lumene.” 

For a few moments, Din only silently stared at you. It startled you when he suddenly walked towards you. You had to put in effort to not step back. The armor made him so intimidating. He got so close to you, you could hear the quiet way the modulator picked up his breathing. He smelled rich and earthy, so vastly different from the sweet perfumes used in Lumene. It made your heart jump. His hand moved and before you could process it, his fingers were lightly brushing your cheek. The leather made your skin tingle. His voice was so quiet, you were sure you’d imagined it. 

“A pretty thing like you should always be draped in jewels…” 

In that moment, you swore your heart stopped. Or maybe your breathing. Maybe both. Din’s voice was so low and warm in a way that pooled in the bottom of your abdomen. His words registered and made heat rush to your cheeks and ears. You could see yourself in the reflection of his helmet. Your eyes were wide and your mouth slightly agape. Suns, you looked stupid. 

“H-Huh?” 

Din decidedly leaned back, dropping his hand to his side. 

“I’ll send for a tailor from Lumene. We can get you new pieces for your wardrobe.” 

“Manda’lor, there’s no need to go through such lengths–”

“Din.” 

His sudden interjection made you sputter to a stop. Din. Din? He wanted you to call him by his first name? For some reason, it made your chest feel warm again. You pressed your lips together to keep yourself from arguing further. Until you learned more about Din’s temperament, you didn’t want to do anything to risk his ire. 

“...thank you, Din.” 

You were met with silence and a single nod. Faintly, you wondered if this silence was natural to all Mandalorians or only Din. 

Once again, there was a knock on the door. The woman who entered your room had a reverent seriousness about her. Her armor was a powerful gold color that would make even Lumene royals look twice. Even Din, the ruler of Mandalore, dipped his head in respect to her. 

“Armorer.” 

The woman called the Armorer returned Din’s greeting before turning her focus back to you. It felt intense, like she was breaking down and analyzing each component of your soul. 

“I was told that the princess sent to us was, as you say in Lumene, ziimo sysfaas – ‘moon blessed'. I came to see for myself.” 

The woman filled the space around you with an air of importance. Like she knew she was entitled to that space and could take it freely. Her thick, gloved hand took your jaw with a firm care, inspecting it this way and that. As if you were a plate of armor engraved by another artist. 

“If I remember correctly, the moon blessed are rare-born and seen as an omen of important events to come.” 

Satisfied with what she saw, the Armorer stepped away. You remembered to breathe, unaware that you’d even held it. Her voice was always melodic and official, treating everything she said as a ritual. 

“In a week’s time, the wedding ceremony shall be held. This is the Way.” 

“This is the Way.” 

Din’s response came without hesitation. The phrase rattled in your chest, the very syllables infused with power. You could tell it was important to them. 

With that, the Armorer departed. Din started to move towards the door, stopping for a moment to turn back to you. 

“Dinner won’t be served for a few hours. Please, feel free to explore the palace as you wish.” 

Before the bedroom door shut, his helmet tipped in your direction. Taking one last glance at you. The wood clicked into place and he was gone. 

You’d be married by next week. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Fennec Shand showed you the way to the dining hall. Even though you’d been given permission to explore the palace, the carriage ride left you far too tired. Instead, you wrote a letter to be sent to Elisa, informing her that all was well. 

As the two of you traversed the winding stone halls, you realized that getting acquainted with the layout was going to be vital. You couldn’t rely on Fennec forever, as nice as she was. 

The dining hall of the palace was what you imagined it to be. Instead of the opulence of Lumene, which had complex stained glass configurations hanging all around to catch the sunlight, the dining hall of the Manda’lor was simple, warm lighting and a long table made of the same dark wood as the doors to the throne room. Of the many chairs around the table, only five places were set. Din was occupying the head of the table, as was his rightful place. The man in dark green armor from before was seated to his right. They were silent as they waited, but there seemed to be no awkwardness between them. 

Upon your entrance, Din rose to his feet in a quick manner. You didn’t dare call it eager, not wanting to get your hopes up. His attentiveness wouldn’t last forever, you knew that. Fennec left your side, rounding the table to sit beside the other man. Din motioned for you to sit in the chair to his left, which you did. He slid your chair in and you were intensely aware of his leather gloves gripping the wood. 

“I don’t think you’ve been properly introduced to my closest confidant. Princess [Name], meet Boba Fett.” 

Boba, the man in green, placed his closed fist on the opposite side of his chest, dipping his head. It was a gesture you’d seen Mandalorians do before. 

“Apologies for my behavior in the throne room, princess. It was uncouth of me.” 

The way he said the word was pointed sharply in Din’s direction, who shrugged shamelessly. You had the feeling that Boba had been scolded for the way he snapped at you then. 

“Apology accepted. Fennec had warned me that things were in a state of… ‘chaos’. She was certainly correct. May I… ask what happened?” 

The three shared a look. Din sighed, resting his helmet against the back of his chair with a quiet thud. 

“There were some… unhappy parties about the results of the Tournament. Emotions flared and words were thrown out that could have been interpreted as threats. Really, I should thank you, Princess; your arrival kept things from devolving into anything physical.” 

As if summoned by Din’s words, the doors swung open and Bo-Katan marched in. You tensed before you could stop yourself. From your peripheral vision, you noticed Din giving you a curious tilt of his head. Bo-Katan took the chair beside you. You sat up straighter. 

“Princess, I am sorry we had to meet under the… prior circumstances. I was in a rather foul mood.” 

“That’s alright, Miss Kryze. We all have our bad days, I suppose.” 

It was a miracle that you got your voice to work. Bo-Katan seemed to look at you more intensely. 

“You seem to be familiar with me?” 

Ah, dank ferrik. A simple slip of the words spurred on by the anxiety of sitting beside the very woman that killed you in your first life. You still remembered the feeling of her boot digging into your spine, holding you down in the gravel as she brought her blade down on your neck. You shivered. 

“I… have heard brief mention of you in Lumene. I’m afraid I don’t recall the context.” 

It was a lame excuse, but it seemed to be good enough for the Mandalorians. It helped that the servants arrived with the food at that moment. Sizzling meat of some kind that smelled wonderful. You didn’t realize how hungry you were until the food was in front of you. 

Your hand faltered in its path to your fork when you heard two identical hissing noises. To your shock, Boba and Bo-Katan removed their helmets, placing them on the table beside them as they began to eat. Boba had the most shocking appearance, skin scarred with injuries. Bo-Katan was undeniably beautiful, with short ginger hair and a powerful and strong face. Curious, you sent a discreet glance towards Din. He made no move to remove his helmet or touch any of the food. You filed it away as another thing to ask about later. 

Easy conversation flowed between Boba, Fennec, and Din. It was hard for you to follow along, but you tried your hardest. If you were going to be living here, you wanted to make an effort to be involved. Din, having noticed your interest, waited until there was a lull in the subject. He turned his helmet to face you, his way of giving you his full focus.

“Earlier, when the Armorer came to speak to you, she called you something in Lume. ‘Moon blessed.’ I’ve never heard of the term before.” 

It wasn’t a question, but you got what he was aiming for. Prompting you to talk about your life and culture. The others’ eyes on you made your cheeks feel warm. You nudged a piece of food with your fork as you gathered your words.

“In Lumene… we have three deities. Mother Sun, Father Sun, and the Moon Child. We believe that they blessed our founders, the Blessed Brothers, with special abilities. These abilities have been passed down through the royal family for generations. Most commonly, those born into the royal family are va sysfaas – sun blessed. But there is a rare recessive gene that produces the ziimo sysfaas, moon blessed. Like me.” 

You flushed when you noticed how enraptured everyone at the table was. You weren’t even talking about some secret knowledge – this information could be found in any Lumene textbook! The questions they all wanted to ask were visible on their faces – those that you could see. Boba’s voice was the first to cut the silence. 

“So, what is yours?”

“My… My what?” 

Boba frowned, realizing how vague the question was. He waved his hand in embarrassment. 

“You said something about abilities being passed down. What is your ability?” 

  Oh. You fidgeted, picking nonexistent threads off the sleeve of your dress. 

“Um, it’s nothing special. It’s Zly. Barrier. My ability is called Barrier. It’s a defensive ability, so it’s not very powerful. Most of my siblings’ abilities are much more appealing.” 

Your words were layered. You were very aware of how useless and weak your ability was. If something were to happen, you couldn’t do anything to help anyone. Not even yourself. You knew the consequences of that weakness very well. 

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

The rest of the dinner flew by with wonderful conversation. It had been a long time since you’d truly enjoyed a family dinner like this. It made a fuzzy feeling prickle in your chest, something long forgotten waking back up. Belonging. 

As the servants came to get the dishes, Boba, Fennec, and Bo-Katan bid you goodnight. You seemed to have gotten past your rocky start, the waters calming into something pleasant. Boba Fett intimidated you still, but you could see Fennec Shand as someone that you could become friends with. Bo-Katan didn’t seem as intense and deranged as she was in the first life, but you still held her at a comfortable distance. 

“Would you like to walk through the gardens with me?” 

And then there was Din. You had only known him for half a day, but he undeniably made your heart beat faster. There was just something about the way he looked at you. You couldn’t see his face, but you could feel his gaze, how he poured every ounce of his attention towards you when you spoke. Like he never wanted to look away. 

You still needed to find out more about what sort of ruler he was going to be. 

“I would be honored, Din.” 

The gardens of the Mandalore palace were beautiful. There weren’t many flowers in bloom that season, but that didn’t make it any less breathtaking. Stone archways lined the walking path, dark ivy creeping up and wrapping around them. A pond stretched out before you, a statue standing tall in the very center. It was an armored figure wrapped in fur, one foot standing on a defeated beast. 

“That is Manda’lor the First. The founder of our kingdom.” 

You looked up at Din, giving him a grateful smile. The stars reflected in his polished armor plates, making him look like he was painted in them. It was the new moon of the month, so the only light was the torches that washed you both in a warm orange. 

“Mandalore is so rich in history. I feel like everywhere I look has another piece, another story. It’s truly wonderful.” 

“I’m… happy to hear that. I want you to enjoy your life here.” 

The genuine way Din said those words made that strange feeling return between your ribs, like a chunk of heated coal ebbed there. You believed him. 

There was little conversation between the two of you as you walked. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. Din felt like a source of stability, unmoving and reliable. You imagined he had the potential to become a great ruler as he settled into his new role. Strangely, you found that you wanted to be by his side along the way. 

A tall structure came into view on the other side of the pond. It was smaller than the palace, about the size of one of the duchess’ estates back in Lumene. The architecture was similar to the Mandalorian palace. 

“Oh, is this the estate where the other concubines shall stay?” 

“No, I gave this to Boba Fett to conduct his business in.” 

Din suddenly stopped walking. You turned to look at him, a few feet in front of him now. This area had less torches, so it was hard to see anything except the twinkling stars. You could just make out his visor fixing itself on you. 

“Concubines?” 

His incredulous tone gave you pause. His shoulders were drawn up tightly, like a coiled spring ready to pop. 

“Yes..? Is it not customary for the Manda’lor to take multiple partners?” 

You knew for sure that Bo-Katan had concubines. Elisa had written to you about it many times, trying to soothe you with stories of the drama between the women. The idea didn’t make you very happy, but you’d come to terms with it on the carriage ride over. Of course, that is when you thought you’d be wed to Bo-Katan. 

Din sighed, putting his hands on his hips as he tilted his head back towards the sky. You weren’t quite sure what you’d said wrong, but before you could apologize proper, he was speaking. 

“To be completely honest… I don’t really care what the other Manda’lors did.” 

He closed the gap between you with two slow, wide strides. His large, strong hands cupped your cheeks, leather covered thumbs stroking your jaw with so much gentleness. He was so close that you had to tilt your head back to properly look into his visor, where you imagined his eyes to be. That rich, earthy smell surrounded you again, making you feel dizzy. He filled every inch of your attention. When he spoke, his voice was low but firm, like he was stating a fact that was indisputably true.

Avenoir - the desire to see memories played backwards.

2.4k

Warnings: violence, mentions of death, thrown back in time, princess reader, originally created kingdom with its own lore, history, and language (i worked really hard on it)

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Everything went wrong on the night of the blood moon. 

You were the youngest princess in Lumene, the kingdom of light. It was an extravagant kingdom that valued beauty and enjoyment of life over all things. Light was the giver of life and your people spent every day enjoying each moment filled with light to the fullest. 

Across the Silver Sea was the kingdom of Mandalore, who couldn’t be more different from its neighbor. Mandalore valued strength and prowess in its people. There was no royal family or lineage. Rather, the Manda’lor, ruler of the kingdom, was chosen through combat. When the serving Manda’lor died, a Tournament would be held to decide who takes the throne. 

One year before the blood moon occurred, a Tournament was held. Bo-Katan Kryze would win and assume the throne. On the same hour that she wins, a Saint would be born in Mandalore. Wanting to keep an eye on the Saint, the Queen of Lumene would send her eldest daughter to be wed to Bo-Katan. 

The eldest daughter would meet her demise in Mandalore, taken by the hands of a scorned lover. Bo-Katan would declare war on Lumene and, with Lumene having  no military to speak of, would easily win. Bo-Katan, a woman without mercy in her heart, would execute the entire royal family. 

You knew all of this because you lived through it. In the very moment of your demise, when Bo-Katan’s blade met your neck, you made a wish. Raised your eyes to the glimmering red moon and made a single wish that would change everything. You just wished to see your sister one last time. 

When you opened your eyes again, you were in bed. It was once again the morning of the Tournament. 

This time, you were going to make things right. 

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Orange afternoon light leaked through the large windows, painting your steps in warmth. The weather in Lumene was always good and fair through every season. There was no time to appreciate it. You had a mission. 

When you woke up one year before your demise, it had taken time to come to terms with things. It was too real to be a dream. It had to be true events. You held onto that tiny, true fact. The clock had reset. With that acceptance grew a determination for your new mission. To make sure none of those events would come to pass. 

The first step was to save your sister. Elisa was the eldest sister in your family, though she was not the heir to the throne. She’d stepped down and given that title to your middle sister. To you, she was the world. Elisa had practically raised you. When you lost her in the previous life, it broke you. You weren’t going to let it happen again. 

Elisa was in the upstairs parlor, one of her favorite rooms in the palace. Sitting on the couch, humming a soft tune as she diligently embroidered moonflowers into a piece of fabric. The door opening made her look up, that familiar sweet smile gracing her lips at the sight of you. You thought Elisa was the most beautiful woman in the world. Sweet, round facial features that were somehow still mature. Like the rest of your siblings, she had brunette hair with the slightest auburn hue, cut to her chin and framing her face, as well as perfectly cut bangs. Her eyes were a summer blue, like a beautiful lake in the sunlight. 

“[Name], I heard you slept in late today. I’ve told you about staying up late–” 

She gasped softly as you wordlessly launched yourself at her, kneeling on the floor and burying your face in her stomach. You couldn’t help it. She was there. She was alive and so young and beautiful. Hot tears poured down your cheeks as you sobbed like a baby. Elisa didn’t ask questions, only stroked your hair with a loving touch. You stayed like that until the tears were gone, leaving your cheeks stinging and red. 

“What is all of this about, [Name]?” 

“You need to leave.” 

The blunt statement made Elisa set her embroidery aside. Her eyebrows furrowed in a way that made her forehead wrinkle just like yours. 

“For what reason?” 

“You wouldn’t believe me. You’ll think I’m crazy.” 

Elisa cupped your cheeks with an intensity that you had missed. Her thumbs stroked the bridge of your nose. 

“[Name], do you remember what I always tell you? From the moment that I saw you in your crib, I knew you’d be special to me. It didn’t matter that Mother was the one who gave birth to you. I was the one that was there. I love you so dearly. Even if you were to one day go crazy and hallucinate, I still want you to feel comfortable telling me. So, tell me.” 

Her comforting words made you swallow back another bout of emotions. To her, it had only been a day apart. To you, it had been an eternity. 

“...Tomorrow evening, Mother is going to send you to Mandalore to become a concubine of the new Manda’lor.” 

Elisa’s eyes widened like saucers. Of all the things you could’ve said, that was the last thing she expected. You didn’t blame her. It was sudden and absurd and never been done before. 

“You heard them saying this?” 

“I overheard it by accident.” 

A little white lie wouldn’t hurt. Not when lives were on the line. You took Elisa’s hands in yours, squeezing them gently. They were slightly calloused, preferring to do work herself rather than be pampered by the house staff. 

“Please, I couldn’t bear to see it happen. Go to Dus and flee with him.” 

Clearly, the mention of Elisa’s secret lover made her eyebrows shoot up. You weren’t technically supposed to know about him. Though, you’d learned about him long ago, having accidentally stumbled upon them in the garden when you were younger. Dus was a common man from the lower region of the kingdom that had been secretly courting Elisa for years. 

He was also the one that would kill her if she went to Mandalore. 

Believing the desperation in your eyes, Elisa nodded. She squeezed your hands in return, just as gentle and loving. 

“Okay. I’ll leave tonight.” 

That would be plenty of time. Because of the Silver Sea separating the land, it took an entire day for news to travel between Lumene and Mandalore. The Tournament would be ending as you stood there with Elisa. Meaning news wouldn’t reach your parents until the next afternoon. By then, Elisa should be long gone. Safe. 

You could hardly sleep that night. You were tossing and turning in your bed, plagued by worries of the future. Would anything change? Had you succeeded in changing the outcome of the future? During the rare moments that you did drift off, you were plunged into nightmares about your execution. The red skies serving as a backdrop to the bloodshed that Bo-Katan Kryze brought about. By the time morning painted the skies pink, you had worked up a light sheen of sweat. 

At breakfast, there was little you could do but pick at your plate anxiously. If any of your siblings noticed, they didn’t say anything. They were too busy discussing the absence of Elisa. Some of the comments being made by Nic, your eldest brother, made your fingers twitch and your lips press firmly together. But you made no movement to speak. This is how it always went – far too nervous to put your foot down among your siblings. 

All chatter hushed as your parents entered the dining hall. They took their places at either end of the table, your mother sitting gracefully in the largest chair. She sighed, folding her hands in her lap. 

“Well, since your sister has decided that she no longer wants to participate in this family, we are going to have to proceed with a minor change in plans. Our neighbors have a new ruler.” 

Your entire body tensed. A whispered curse tumbled from your lips as your spoon slipped from your hands and clattered against the table. Your mother sent you a glance, but didn’t say anything further about your clumsiness. It was something that was well known to her. 

Air wouldn’t fill your lungs properly. Your hand trembled as you tried to pick your spoon back up and act normal. It was too early. This conversation wasn’t supposed to happen until the evening. The news shouldn’t have even reached Lumene until noon. This was wrong. 

“In addition, rumors have circulated among the people of a special child being born in Mandalore. A saint of the purest form of magic. In order to both study this saint and show a sign of peace to the new ruler, your father and I have decided to send one of you to Mandalore. You will wed the ruler.” 

Your eyes landed on the empty chair across from you. Elisa’s chair. She was gone and your mother had already spoken of changing the plan. But what…

“...-ame]. [Name]!” 

The sound of your name ringing through the dining hall echoed like the toll of a gong. You snapped up, spine straightening like a rod as you looked at your mother with wide, attentive eyes. She’d never raised her voice like this before. All of your family were staring at you. Your sister Kane had a strange sadness in her eyes – pity. 

Oh no.

“[Name], please try to pay more attention to such important things. You will be going to wed the new Manda’lor. You will leave tomorrow morning.”

“Mother, please–” 

“I won’t hear it. This is for the better of our family. It is your duty as part of the royal family.”

You froze. Those were the exact words that your mother said to Elisa before. Why were they being said to you now? Perhaps this was the price of your actions. A give and take with the universe. 

In saving Elisa’s life, you doomed your own. 

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The carriage ride through the streets of Sundari was far different than you imagined. Growing up, you had always pictured Mandalore as a solemn kingdom. It felt like a logical conclusion, a kingdom of warriors being deathly serious all the time. But the streets to the palace were filled with celebration. Colorful streamers flit through the air, paired with music and the clang of metal clapping. Though Mandalorians could not remove their strange helmets, drinks and food were laid out on tables. 

The banners that flapped in the wind caught your eye. Displayed on the gray material was a black symbol in the shape of a single horned beast. Your eyebrows furrowed in thought. You faintly remembered seeing the banners right before your execution. The symbol in front of you looked nothing like it. Perhaps Bo-Katan changed her crest to the Nite Owl shortly before the war…? 

Within the palace walls, the music became faint. The coronation ceremony finished only an hour before you arrived, so it surprised you to see the front courtyard so empty. A celebration in the streets, but not in the palace? 

When you stepped out of your carriage, a woman in odd black clothes stood at the bottom of the front steps. Waiting for you. Odder than her clothes was the absence of a helmet. She had pale skin and black hair braided down one shoulder. Her eyes were dark and paired with a mischievous smile. She bowed to you. 

“I hope your journey was pleasant, princess. My name is Fennec Shand.” 

You curtsied in greeting to Fennec. It made a brief look of surprise flash through her eyes. That mysterious smile never left her face. 

“You’ll have to forgive the state of the palace. I’m afraid you arrived at a rather chaotic moment.” 

“Chaotic?” 

“You’ll see.” 

Fennec beckoned you to follow her as she turned to enter the palace. You fixed the clasp of your cloak nervously. The guards that had been accompanying you since the docks stayed in the courtyard this time. 

The entrance foyer was by no means as extravagant as anything you’d find in Lumene. But it was decorated with little pieces of Mandalorian history. Portraits of different armored figures draped in fine furs. Manda’lors of past, you assumed. 

Soon, the two of you reached a set of towering double doors. Scenery was engraved into the dark wood, depicting events you didn’t recognize. There wasn’t much time to admire it now. Muffled shouting came from behind the doors. A dark, rasping voice boomed. Fennec reached for the doors with no hesitation. 

“The ceremony is done. Lay a hand on the Manda’lor and I shall cut you down myself.” 

The creak of the large doors opening made a hush fall over the room. There were three armored figures at the head of the conflict. One in dark green armor was scarily close to one in blue, his large hand on the butt of his gun. All eyes – behind the dark glass visors – focused on you. You couldn’t help the shyness that overtook you. Despite being a princess, attention always made your stomach churn. You lowered your chin so the edge of your cloak hood fell over your eyes. 

“Presenting Princess [Name] from the Lumene Kingdom.” 

There she was. You’d recognize that blue armor anywhere. Standing in front of the throne with another armored man was Bo-Katan Kryze. 

Even if you were terrified, you knew your manners and curtsied as deeply as you could. 

“It is an honor, Manda’lor.” 

Bo-Katan scoffed in anger and descended the steps. You tensed as she stalked towards you. Had you angered her already? You just got there! 

Then she… walked past you. Plopping down angrily on a cushioned chaise against the wall. 

“Look at the Manda’lor when you are speaking to him, girl.” 

That same rough, raspy voice from earlier drew your attention back to the elevated platform. Fennec had gone to stand beside the large man in the dark green armor, his shoulders tensed in aggression. 

“Boba, calm yourself.” 

Your confusion increased tenfold at the sight of the man sitting on the throne of Mandalore. His armor was silver polished to a mirrored sheen. He dipped his head in greeting to you, his posture on the throne stiff. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, princess. I am Din Djarin. Ruler of Mandalore.” 

Your first time in the film industry is the most chaotic, stressful experience of your life. You didn't know there was so many incompetent and petty people in existence. To make matters worse, you've become the emotional support lapdog of the director. God help you.

Chapter 1

Two souls, born on the same hour, under the same star. Magic tied together in an unbreakable knot. Two young people meant for a destiny bigger than themselves. Let them live, for they will die.

Chapter 1

You just wanted to get the story out -- not just the story of the killer, but the stories of his victims as well. Will you soar high above the clouds, or will this man melt your wax wings and send you plummeting down below?

Chapter 1

When the dragons sealed magic away, all of humanity's knowledge came from the books and scholars. When a mage is born naturally with magic, she begins a story of discovery, identity, and lost lovers. But when you're seen only for the ghost of who you used to be, how do you break free from that image?

Chapter 1

The blood moon has granted you a chance to start over and save everyone. But one decision changes the course of events into something unrecognizable.

Chapter 1 - Avenoir

Chapter 2 - Metanoia

Chapter 3