Your Name Will Be Legendary

It surprises you that someone who conceals their identity from the galaxy would trust you enough with his name, but he sounds proud as he tells you of his heritage and how he comes from a long lineage of powerful leaders and warriors. He speaks with such confidence and honor that it utterly captivates you and you listen to his stories with wide eyes as you sip on lukewarm bone broth. His exciting stories help pass the time on the cold ship and he seems all too happy to tell you about the places he’s visited whenever he remembers that you’ve been surrounded by sand your entire life.

He speaks of planets covered in blue, salty water and other planets blanketed with lush green foliage and even though you could never fathom such places, he describes it with such intense detail that you picture it so easily in your mind.

That’s how the bounty hunter finds the two of you in the cockpit once he wakes up from his slumber. You’re leaning against the pilot’s chair as Paz peers up at you through his t-shaped visor while starlight reflects off of the shiny black glass, his fingers splayed along the center of your back as he speaks in his usual gruff voice. You nearly skitter back to the chair you usually sit in when the three of you are in the cockpit, but before you can, the hunter sinks down onto it with a lazy sigh.

Though you and the silver Mandalorian are still hesitant around one another, it’s now easier to relax in each other’s presence and you see it in the way he leans back into the chair, his knees spread as he lets his head slump backwards in the slightest. The poor Mando seems perpetually exhausted, typically only running on a couple hours of sleep at a time before he takes over with piloting the Razor Crest despite there being an autopilot feature. You wonder if he’s like you, where memories of the past make it too difficult to sleep at night and he simply resigns to forgoing a healthy sleep cycle.

His visor lingers on you as he quietly speaks, “Don’t listen to half of the stories he tells you; he likes to exaggerate more often than not.”

Even though he’s speaking in his usual tone, you realize he’s making a teasing comment as Paz scoffs at him and tosses him an offensive gesture over his blue pauldron, though it instantly drops the moment he hears you giggling. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand in an attempt to hide your smile from both of them, Paz’s shoulders relaxing as you rest your elbow on the headrest of the chair and turn back to the stars that pass the ship in a beautiful dance.

“Even if the stories may be fiction, I still enjoy hearing them, nonetheless.”

“Yeah,” Paz scoffs at the hunter with what sounds like amusement, “Someone’s gotta keep her entertained while we’re in hyperspace and you’re clearly not doing a good job at it.”

The hunter simply scoffs with a shake of his helmet before relaxing further against the co-pilot chair, somehow seeming more comfortable in the cockpit than you imagine he would be in his own private quarters. An intense warmth blooms along the span of your cheeks as Paz’s palm slides lower until his fingers are wrapped around your hip, guiding you closer until the side of his scuffed up helm is pressed against your ribs.

You’re suddenly all too aware of the fact that you’re clad in only shorts and an oversized tunic that the heavy-infantry warrior had given you as a makeshift sleepshirt upon realizing that you had fled your village without any clothes or belongings. You’ve come to find that Paz is definitely the more physical one out of the two, his fingers always brushing along your waist or sometimes the bounty hunter’s elbow and you figure it’s just a part of his personality.

You wonder if he knows that you seek comfort in his calming touches and that’s why he never hesitates with you.

You can feel the hunter’s visor burning a hole into your back as Paz lets out a content sigh, the cold leather covering his fingertips drifting down your thigh, just underneath the hem of his tunic. If you thought your cheeks were warm before, it feels as though your whole face has been burned by the Tatooine suns as you eventually rest your palm on his pauldron. 

A comfortable silence blankets the cockpit as you continue to watch the stars with the two Mandalorians and it's only when you grow tired that you reluctantly pull away from Paz before turning to the hunter, "I'm going to go get some rest. Do you know when we're landing?"

"Not too sure," Is all he says with a tired sigh as you approach him, though he continues when he notices the curiosity pulling at your features, "One of us will let you know."

You nod slowly as he gazes up at you, the burnt orange tips of his leather gloves slightly curling against the worn armrests of the co-pilot's chair, "Thank you.”

You offer him a hesitant smile before making your way out of the cockpit, exhaustion hitting you hard despite your day having pretty much only consisted of helping Paz polish his armor and weapons and sitting in the cockpit while watching the stars. A sigh escapes you as you plop down onto your little cot, curling up into as much of a tiny ball as you possibly can on your side and tugging the scratchy blanket that the hunter had given you tightly around your body.

It’s just another part of traveling with the two Mandos you have to get used to—how cold space is—and you hope that wherever it is the three of you are going to that it’s at least a little warm. 

Despite how mundane and boring your life had been on Tatooine, you can’t help but to feel homesick, longing to see a binary sunset with your siblings just one more time. A tear slips down your cheek as you force the feeling away before letting your eyelids slip shut and falling into a deep slumber where all that surrounds you is fire and pained screams.

Hours later, old leather wraps around your ankle and startles you awake with a tiny gasp, your eyes instantly landing on the hunter’s silver helmet. “Sorry,” He sounds slightly softer than usual, his visor tilted to the side as he leans down a little bit and reaches for your cheek, immediately causing you to freeze.

“You were crying in your sleep?” He almost sounds confused as the cold leather covering his fingertips graze along your cheekbone and you realize it’s the first time he’s willingly reached out for you. He stares down at his fingertips when he pulls away, your tears glistening in the dim lighting of the ship before he’s brushing his hand against his cuisse.

“I... I didn’t know,” You whisper as you avoid his visor, staring at his cuirass instead, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I just wasn’t sure if I accidentally woke up you or Paz—is that why you woke me? I can try to be more quiet if—”

“No,” He quickly cuts you off, shifting on his feet with a soft sigh and you’re surprised when he lifts his hand again to awkwardly rest his palm on your shoulder, “I wanted to let you know that we landed.”

Immediately, you perk up and sit up so fast that you nearly hit your head on the framing around the entrance of the tiny alcove that your cot is located in, though he’s quick to stop you with a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Easy,” He sounds amused and you swear you see his shiny pauldrons shake with restrained chuckles, “Paz is scouting the area to make sure everything is clear and I’m going to check out things in the city, look for some work.”

“Can I come with you?”

The hunter instantly freezes and tenses as you gently capture his silver gauntlet between your palms to keep him in place, his visor staring down at you while you peer up at him excitement etched all over your features. “P-Please?” You implore as he hesitates for several tense moments, his posture relaxing when you continue, “Wouldn’t you want to explore a foreign place if you spent your entire life on a planet like Tatooine?”

He sighs and after spending quite a bit of time with Paz and him on the Razor Crest, you’ve managed to distinguish all of the different noises and sighs that slip past their thick helmets. For such secretive warriors, they somehow seem far more exposed than how you feel and as you peer up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, you hope that he caves in.

“Fine,” He grunts and you immediately pull yourself out of the little alcove to tug on your boots, nearly falling sideways in your excitement, “Just stay close, okay?”

“Of course!” You quickly respond as he easily steadies you while you finish tying up your boots, keeping on Paz’s tunic when you realize your dress is still too damp to wear after you washed it the previous day, though the thicker fabric fits you just like a dress as well. With a newfound excitement, you trail behind the bounty hunter as he leads you off of the ship that you’ve lived on for the past seven or eight rotations.

A loud gasp instantly escapes you upon seeing more green foliage than you have ever seen in your life and you don’t even notice Paz freezing in the distance as you crouch down to run your palm along the itchy tips of the blades of grass. The lovely melody of birds chirping from their homes in the surrounding trees instantly has your eyes burning with tears as the hunter approaches Paz to quietly speak with him, most likely informing the heavy-infantry warrior that you’re going to be gone for the day.

You tune out their hushed conversation, a smile stretched along your lips as you take in all of the green scenery surrounding you and even how fresh everything smells.

It’s overwhelming.

It’s overwhelming but seeing this much green and hearing so many beautiful creatures singing their songs…

It’s unlike anything you could have ever imagined.

Your older siblings and even your parents have told you so many stories of planets surrounding Tatooine and sights you could only fathom in the sweetest, wildest dreams and you can’t stop yourself from wandering further into the peaceful clearing. It’s a terrible idea and you know that one of the Mandalorians is probably going to grow upset with you, but all sense of regret escapes you as you approach the clearest, bluest pond you’ve ever witnessed in your entire life.

You’re on your knees, fingertips trailing along the surface of the small body of water when Paz and the hunter find you. “Are you ready to go?” The hunter asks as you quickly stand up to peer at him, though you nod fervently with a large smile.

Your eyes are wide with curiosity as the two of you make your way through the beautiful forest, taking in all of the new sights, sounds, and smells that surround you and the bounty hunter who trails closely behind you as you scan your surroundings with excitement.

"Definitely more to see here than on Tatooine," Your unlikely companion muses as you listen to frogs croak in the distance.

"Definitely," You breathe out quietly, still in awe as you process everything, turning to face the hunter and admiring the way the scenery reflects off of his silver armor with a brilliant gleam, his visor tilting to the side as your smile grows. 

"I wished my family could have seen it too," There's a bittersweet tone laced in your voice that he immediately seems to pick up on, a gentle hum slipping through his helmet as your smile slowly disappears. He doesn't say anything at first, simply resting his palm on your shoulder as his fingertips gently press against your collarbone. Immediately, you freeze and turn to peer up at him with wide eyes, shocked that he's willingly reached out to you so much today when he typically keeps to himself, though you find the touch just as comforting as all the times Paz cups your cheek.

"They are with the stars, watching down on you," He says with great tenderness, only furthering your surprise, "That is what Paz always says when we remember those we have lost—when the pain and memories leave you feeling empty."

You lower your gaze to his silver cuirass, "Did… Did you lose your family too?"

He stares down at you for several tense moments, his thumb moving to graze along the pulse on the side of your neck and you remember just days ago when Paz had done the same thing upon finding you clinging to life. 

"We should go," He says with a sigh, urging you to continue forward as he kindly presses his hand to the center of your back, "We don't have a lot of time left before the sun goes down."

It’s only about a forty minute walk to the bustling city and you gasp at how tall and strange all the buildings look, Din’s fingers still pressed gently against your back as you take everything in. It’s not until the two of you make it to a plaza lined with several shops and stalls that you speed up a little more, Din’s visor scanning the area for any threats as you slow down in front of a store displaying all sorts of beautiful garments.

“Do you…” You finally peer at the bounty hunter with wide eyes as he freezes behind you, his fingertips flexing along your spine when he quietly continues, “Do you see anything you like?”

You immediately slow down until you’re walking by his side and his visor lowers to meet your gentle gaze as you wrap your fingers around the crook of his elbow, gazing up at his shiny helm with admiration. “I don’t have any credits,” You quietly remind the bounty hunter as he lets you hold onto the only part of his arm that isn’t covered with that shiny Beskar, his visor tilting as he peers down at you.

“We got a good amount from our last job and you… you don’t really have anything,” He quietly reminds you, his helmet lowering even more as he seems to remember that you have no clothes other than your one scrappy dress, your white scarf, and Paz’s tunic.

“I’m sure we’ll make it by even if we get you some new clothes and other supplies,” The hunter says as he leads you into the shop, simply offering the shop owner a single nod when he greets the two of you, a strange look on his face when he realizes there’s a Mandalorian in his shop.

It doesn’t feel too good as the hunter pays for two dresses that catches your eye, as well as a pair of thick, warm leggings and a luxurious cape lined with fur that he insists will come in handy on colder planets. Even when the older merchant is folding the garments and packing them up, you notice the way his eyes flicker between you and the silver hunter, a sort of judgmental look on his wrinkled features.

Something about the awkward interaction rubs you the wrong way and claws at your mind as the two of you slowly make your way through the bustling city to look for other supplies for yourself. You manage to bite your tongue for the entire day, deciding it best not to mention it to the bounty hunter, though you're certain he noticed it as well. 

He grows more relaxed around you, you notice as he keeps his palm glued to  the small of your back while he browses for ship parts and supplies for him and Paz

Though he's not much of a talker—not in the slightest—you don't mind it and actually enjoy the silence that surrounds the two of you.

“Why did that merchant from that one shop give us both dirty looks?” You finally ask later when the two of you make your way out of the city, the hunter's visor lowering to gaze at you, "When you paid for my clothes, it looked like he was judging us."

The Mandalorian surprises you when he rests his palm between your shoulder blades, sounding as calm and stoic as ever as he speaks, “There’s a lot of brothels in the city. Maybe he thought I was one of your clients and that I was just trying to repay you for doing a really good job. Doesn’t help that the shirt Paz gave you looks like one of mine.”

Your face instantly grows warm at his insinuating words and nothing else is said between the two of you as the Razor Crest eventually appears in the distance. Paz is sorting through several crates near the bottom of the ramp as he greets both of you with a sharp nod of his scuffed up helmet. Your face still feels hot from embarrassment and anger, not sure if the bounty hunter was simply messing around with your head.

"How did you like the city?" Paz's visor all but burns a hole between your eyes as he peers at you, immediately disregarding the heavy crate he had been carrying in his arms and choosing to lean against it with a tired sigh.

"It was beautiful!" You exclaim with a massive grin, the blue warrior chuckling as you rest a palm on his scuffed up pauldron, though he immediately notices the way your smile falters as you continue to think of what the bounty hunter had said.

The heavy-infantry warrior's shoulders instantly slump as you hastily make your way past them and onto the Razor Crest with a frustrated sigh. The two Mandalorians linger outside of the ship as you neatly fold the new articles of clothing that the hunter had bought for you and immediately, you freeze as you retrieve the impossibly soft fabric, holding it close to your chest. You had never owned anything so luxurious before, the marketplace in your own village only ever having thin scraps of fabric that would easily fall apart if washed the wrong way.

You sink to your knees in front of your cot and pull out the little crate Paz had given you earlier to store your belongings in, not even noticing the blue warrior making his way onto the old, rickety ship. A large hand curls around your shoulder, immediately startling you and pulling you from your thoughts as you crane your neck to look at the blue warrior.

"Is everything okay?" You question as he sits on your cot, looking impossibly huge on the tiny cot and you nearly giggle when it creaks under his weight. He doesn't say anything for several moments and you fear you've done something wrong as he simply keeps his hand on your shoulder, his fingertips twitching against the side of your neck.

"I know you're upset about what happened—about the way that guy looked at you," Paz sighs and you shamefully lower your gaze to look at your new belongings, wondering what must have been running through that judgmental merchant's head when Din bought those clothes for you. 

"People are going to look at you and be curious when you're walking around with a Mandalorian," He gently informs you as he taps a crooked index finger against the bottom of your chin to get you to look at his visor, "Some of the places we travel to aren't always the nicest and are filled with scummy people who will assume all sorts of things about us. You learn to ignore it after a while, all the stares and people just gawking at you.”

You sigh as his hand moves to the crook of your elbow, easily helping you onto the cot so you can sit next to him instead, "Maybe if I wore armor like you or the hunter, people would not be so quick to judge."

"Trust me," He chuckles and you finally smile at the sound, "They would definitely still be quick to judge. Being covered in Beskar definitely is not an inconspicuous look. People either fear you or want to fight."

You grow warm as he lightly captures your hand with his, seeming thoughtful as a leather thumb brushes along your knuckles, "Perhaps people were staring because they were jealous of the bounty hunter."

Your eyes widen as you gaze at his visor, "Jealous? Of what?"

"They probably wished they were with a beautiful woman like you. I know I would be if I were in their shoes." 

He sounds slightly amused as you tuck a lock of hair behind the shell of your warm ear with your free hand, gazing down at the way he easily flips your hand over to explore your palm. 

"I… I don't think he likes me very much—the hunter," You quietly admit, instantly causing his thumb to freeze on your pinky finger, "I'm pretty sure he just brought me along with him today out of pity. Not to mention he probably didn't find any work because I was there."

"Trust me, he doesn't do anything out of pity," Paz shakes his dull blue helmet as he continues his exploration, sounding fond as he speaks of the shiny Mandalorian who constantly seems annoyed with you, "He's just an awkward bastard is all—you get used to it after a while. If anything, he probably likes you since he brought you along and bought you some new clothes. Asshole never buys anything for me."

"That's because you never ask," A gentle rasp interrupts your conversation with Paz and you instantly turn to face the hunter with a sweltering heat lingering in your cheeks, "Besides, your shit takes up most of the space on the Crest."

You giggle at the way the two bicker with one another, Paz's fingers still wrapped around yours as he speaks, "You mean all the ration packs that I make you buy because I know you'll starve us to death if I don't remind you? You should be thanking me, di'kut."

"I'll thank you when you stop calling me an idiot all the time."

"And I'll stop calling you an idiot when you stop being one," Paz sounds smug as the silver Mando shakes his helm with what looks like defeat, your giggles growing louder, "Don't take it too harshly, Djarin. It's a term of endearment."

There's a hint of fondness in Paz's filtered voice that immediately has warmth blooming in your chest, still uncertain whether the two are partners or not, though something about the way they act around one another makes you think they care for one another more than they let on. It's a sort of relationship where you can tell the two know and trust each other enough to the point where they can playfully insult one another and know there's no bitterness or hatred in their words.

"Is that your name?" You shyly ask as the hunter sinks down on the cot on your other side, Paz eventually letting go of your hand, "Djarin?"

He gazes past you to regard his blue companion and immediately, you regret asking when Paz speaks in a foreign language. "Gar liser tenn laam at kaysh," He says it quietly and you swear you hear a hint of sadness in his gruff voice as the hunter slumps in the slightest, "Ogir cuyir shi kar'taylir darasuum bal aaray o'r kaysh kar'ta—Ni liser aalar bic."

"Gar liser ganar bic an," The hunter sighs as you move to stand up, fearing that you're intruding on their conversation, though Paz gently grabs your hand before you can leave the two alone, "Te kyr'yc kebi Ni linibar o'r oyay cuyir shol'shya shuk'la runi at hiibir baatir be."

Paz doesn't respond to whatever it is his companion said and instead lets go of your hand, your gaze lingering on the two of them for several seconds as you hesitate to speak again, well aware of the intense shift in the atmosphere. 

"I… I'm going to go get some fresh air," You tell the men in a meek whisper, nervously glancing at the silver hunter who still appears placid as he lazily rests his clasped hands on his stomach, "S-Sorry if I overstepped my boundaries."

He doesn't speak to you for the rest of the night and when you wake up the next morning, your back stiff after sleeping on the unyielding cot for so long, the hunter is already gone for the day, dashing any of your hopes for another day in the nearby city. It's probably for the best, you think to yourself as you change into one of the dresses he bought for you—the fabric soft and thick—and you admire the slight swish in the skirt as you seek out Paz.

You're surprised to find that he's not wearing any of his armor with the obvious exception of his scuffed up helm, his back to you as he calmly sifts through crates of supplies in the hull of the ship. You can see the way the muscles in his shoulders and back shift as he pushes a large metal crate until it’s pressed against the wall before strapping it in and your cheeks grow warm at the sight.

"Good morning," You quietly greet the warrior, watching as he immediately turns to face you when you approach him and he quickly straightens his posture as his visor scans your new outfit.

"Good morning, little one," He gives you a single nod and you suddenly feel awkward around him without all of the Beskar in the way, "I like your dress. Looks very pretty on you."

The compliment instantly has you feeling warmer as he rubs a thumb along the material covering your bicep, perhaps checking the quality of the garment, despite him still wearing his gloves. "Thank you," You beam as a noise of approval escapes him before he's going back to sorting through supplies, seeming pleasantly surprised as you offer to help and sit next to him. 

"What do you do with all of these supplies?" You quietly ask the warrior, shifting on your knees as you pack away several packages of freeze-dried fruit into a box that's simply labeled with 'food', “There’s an awful lot here for just two Mandalorians.”

"Most of it goes to our tribe," He answers as he tosses a piece of scrap metal into another crate that you think must be his discard pile, "A lot of the metal can be smelted down into temporary armor for the foundlings before they grow to their full size and obtain an actual set of Beskar."

"That's sweet," You murmur more to yourself than the warrior, though he immediately lets out a questioning hum, "It's nice that the children can wear armor like you do, even if it's not Beskar. It probably makes them feel all strong and big, just like a real Mandalorian."

Paz chuckles and nods his agreement, his visor lingers on your features before the two of you fall into an easy routine of sorting through all of the supplies, the warrior focusing on the scraps of metal while you store foods away in their proper containers. The conversation is kept short today, much to your surprise since Paz is typically asking you all sorts of questions about yourself, and you briefly wonder if his silence has to do with whatever it was he and the hunter spoke of yesterday in their mother tongue.

You don't even realize your zoning out as you stare down at a package filled with bantha jerky, your mind wandering as you think of what the two could have possibly said to one another.

Whatever it was, it has the silver Mando avoiding you like the plague.

"If you stare at it any longer, you're going to burn a hole right through the plastic," Paz chuckles as he gently grabs your chin, finally snapping you out of your thoughts as he forces you to look at his visor. "What has you so distracted, little one?" Cold leather glides along just underneath your bottom lip before his fingers move up to your cheek and the shell of your ear and you hope he doesn't notice the way you shiver.

"Did I offend Mando yesterday when I asked him about his name?"

His posture straightens again as he hesitates, his hand eventually falling from your face so he can rest it on his cuisse instead. "No, you didn't offend him," He gently answers as you stare up at him, "He's just… He's more stubborn when it comes to trusting others.”

You lower your gaze to your own hands again, Paz sighing softly as you think hard about his words, “But I’m not... I’m not a threat. I don’t know how to fight like you guys do.”

Paz suddenly chuckles and quickly stops when you give him a lighthearted glare in response, though he shakes his helmet and stands up, offering you his hand. As soon as your palm slips against his leather one, he easily pulls you to your feet and leads you through the back of the ship, pulling you in a little closer as you force yourself to not look at the several slabs of carbonite.

The warrior leads you off of the ship, pressing a button on his vambrace before the ramp of the ship lifting off the ground, leaving no ways into the ship just in case there’s any unwanted visitors. He leads you to the same spot you had discovered the previous morning—that little meadow with a medium-sized pond in the middle of it—and you perk up as you spot the little body of blue water.

The heavy-infantry warrior sinks onto a big rock as you stand in front of him, his hands easily holding both of yours, “It is hard to explain why he is colder without giving away certain things that have happened in his past. He’s spent so much of his time in solitude and just got used to being closed off all the time.”

You think hard about his words as you climb onto the rock next to him, his arm instantly winding around your shoulders as he holds you close to his side, “But... But he’s not that way with you.”

“I’ve known him for a really long time,” Paz informs you with a deep sigh, his thumb tracing random shapes along your shoulder as he speaks, “I only started traveling with him maybe a cycle ago and it took several months for him to get used to dealing with me. I’m actually surprised he’s trying to make an effort with you when he’s only known you for a few rotations.”

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, your curiosity getting the best of you, though you don’t wish to overstep your boundaries like you did the previous day with the hunter. Paz’s visor remains glued to your face as you process everything, seeming as patient and placid as ever as he waits for you to speak.

“Are you two... together?”

“It’s a strange relationship that not many others would understand,” Paz says with a soft chuckle and you’re surprised at how open and honest he’s being with you as he finally tears his gaze away from you to take in the lovely meadow, “At first it was only about physical intimacy and then at some point it turned into something more. He still pisses me off most of the time and I’m tempted to stab him at least once every day, but I’m fond of that idiot.”

You smile, though it quickly fades as you stare down at your hands that are awkwardly clasped together on your lap and Paz seems to instantly notice your sudden silence. He gently cups your chin and forces you to look at him, though you suddenly feel nervous as you think of how much the warrior has flirted with you since you started traveling with him and the hunter.

“I do not want to ruin things between you and him,” You quietly explain when he asks you what’s wrong, “And I do not want to get hurt because you led me on or something—I know you keep flirting with me with all of the little touches and compliments.”

Paz surprises you with a loud laugh, his helmet shaking as he speaks, “You have a lot to learn about us, little one. Mandalorians are raised different from the kind of people you grew up around—we just like whoever we like and that’s enough for us. The bounty hunter and I are... Infatuated with you.”

Your eyes widen as he pulls his hand away from your face and shock floods you as he removes his glove, revealing dark skin that seems surprisingly smooth with the exception of calloused knuckles. He wastes no time in cupping your cheek and it’s been so long since you’ve felt skin-on-skin contact that it nearly has you falling apart at the seams. His palm is warm against your cool skin and a knowing hum passes through his helmet when he watches the way your eyelids slip shut.

“You have a lot more in common with us than you believe,” He muses, almost sounding intrigued by you, as though you’re some sort of enigma to him. Your heart thrums wildly as you try to avoid his beskar gaze, though he’s having none of it as he tilts your head back a little.

“You’re such a soft little thing,” He murmurs upon feeling your skin for the first time and you’re grateful that he doesn’t point out the warmth in your cheeks, “You make him nervous, you know?”

“The hunter?” You question quietly as his thumb grazes along your bottom lip.

Paz instantly chuckles, sliding off the rock so he can wedge himself between your knees instead. His visor tilts to the side as he observes you closely, gently tracing every mark and scar he discovers on your skin and even though your heart is beating wildly and ferociously, you find that you enjoy his bare touch.

Perhaps way more than you should.

“He would never admit it out loud, but yes,” He answers, his fingers trailing down past your jaw until he’s cupping the side of your neck, “He loses all train of thought every time he’s around you—I can see it in the way he acts. He’s more tense than usual, like he’s afraid of slipping up and saying the wrong thing in front of you. I’m not going to lie, it’s been kind of fun to watch him squirm so much since you’ve joined the crew.”

A sweltering heat spreads throughout your cheeks, “I... I didn’t even notice. I just figured he wanted nothing to do with me.”

Paz shakes his deep blue helm with an exasperated sigh, his hand falling from your neck so he can give your bare knee a firm and reassuring squeeze.

“How did I manage to end up with two of the most oblivious people in the galaxy?”

You finally smile at the feigned exasperation in his deep voice, still feeling warm and light-headed as his fingers gently rub your thigh. While you’re still confused about the bounty hunter and why he acts so strangely towards you, Paz’s words comfort you and makes you realize he’s just far more complex than most people you’ve met—both Mandalorians are.

Three days pass without the presence of the bounty hunter.

Paz tries to search for him on the third afternoon, possessing no such luck as he storms back onto the Razor Crest with what you perceive as a combination of anger and worry.

Dark clouds hang high in the sky and it only adds to the somber mood, knowing that a storm is approaching as you listen to an exhausted Paz shuck off his armor so he can attempt to get some rest for the first time in days.

You feel too restless to sleep, and despite not knowing your surroundings all that well, you make your way off the ship and to the little meadow, admiring the soft drizzle of water droplets that fall from the dreary sky. It quickly turns into something more intense, but you find that you enjoy the heavy downpour after having gone your whole life without feeling the strange sensation.

You very quickly lose track of time, not even noticing footsteps approaching your from behind.

“What the hell are you doing out here?”

You gasp at the sound of a gentle, familiar rasp just inches away from your ear and quickly turn around to gaze at the silver hunter with wide eyes.

Fat drops of rainwater pelt against his Beskar and you suddenly feel nervous as he steps even closer to you, your nose nearly grazing his cuirass. Now knowing what Paz had mentioned before, you suddenly feel more nervous around him as his visor remains glued to your face.

Your eyes widen as you lower your gaze, instantly noticing the way he has a hand pressed to his side and panic floods you instantly, “A-Are you hurt?!”

He sighs and rests a hand on your shoulder as he guides you back to the Razor Crest with a slight limp to his typically confident gait, “Answer my question first—why are you out here? It’s pouring and you don’t know what kind of animals are native to this planet.”

“I...” He lets you guide his arm completely around your shoulders to help support some of his weight against you as you struggle to form a reasonable explanation, “I couldn’t sleep and wanted to feel the rain on my skin since it never rained on Tatooine.”

The hunter grunts in response, always a man of very little words, and you grow quiet as you help him back to the Razor Crest, peering up at the night sky even though there’s no stars to look at, the weather too gloomy to even be able to look at the moon. You think about what he had told you just a few rotations ago about your family watching you from the stars and you bite your lip as a strange, unfamiliar feeling swells in the pit of your belly. 

After what feels like an hour, you and the hunter finally make it back to the ship, the slight downpour now a full on thunderstorm that only has you trembling more violently as the boisterous booms seem to shake the entire ground. Fear floods you even more as he slumps against the wall near your cot with a pained grunt, sliding down to his rear with a frustrated noise.

“Where’s your medkit?” You quietly ask the hunter as you kneel down next to him, helping him remove his armor, just as you’ve seen Paz do several times in the last few days, “Paz is asleep, but I don’t mind helping.”

“Go wake him up.”

Your jaw clenches and anger suddenly fills you at how nonchalant the hunter sounds as he peels away his cuirass and lets it drop to the floor with a loud clatter. 

“He has spent the last three rotations pretending like he wasn’t worried sick over you since apparently you didn’t even have five seconds to contact him over the commlink to tell him you’re not dead!” You finally snap at the hunter, hating that there’s still tears lingering in your eyes after thinking of your family earlier and he instantly tilts his helmet to the side as he peers at you, “I’m not going to wake him up, so just tell me where the medkit is before I drag you back out into that thunderstorm and let the lightning hit your damn armor until you’re really hurting.”

There’s a small bout of silence between the two of you, rainwater still dripping from you and onto the hunter, though he must be more drenched than you are, what with all the layers and padding he wears.

“Refresher—top shelf behind the mirror,” Is all the hunter says and you finally stand up to retrieve it, that anger still lingering in your heart as you make your way back to him. He’s managed to shed most of his armor and you immediately hesitate when you realize his torso is bare, several layers of blood-stained fabric now discarded on the floor next to him as you muster up the courage to lower yourself on your knees by his side.

Briefly, your eyes flicker down to his blood-stained hands that are resting on his thighs and you’re surprised to find that he’s wearing several rings on each hand. Some of them are engraved with symbols that you don’t recognize and you think it must be the language that he and Paz often speak in when they don’t want you to know what they’re talking about.

You had been flustered days ago upon seeing Paz without his Beskar, but now you feel as though you’re going to combust into flames as you carefully dab a cotton ball that’s doused with rubbing alcohol against a deep gash on his right hip. He’s tense and you can imagine it’s not easy for him to be exposing this much skin to someone he barely knows, so you speak quietly in an attempt to distract him.

“I’m guessing the job didn’t go too well?”

“Got five thousand credits for three heads,” He surprisingly answers you as he leans his helmet against the wall, “Could have gone worse, I guess.”

“Could have gone better.”

You let it slip out before you can stop yourself and you half-expect him to get annoyed, though he speaks in his usual rasp, “Got the credits. That’s all that matters.”

“Do... Do you always get this injured when you hunt?” You quietly ask him as you grab the cauterizer with a wince, remembering when your own father had to use a similar device on you when you were younger and bandits had managed to injure you. His visor is focused on your features as you notice all of the scars littered along his chest and abdomen and your heart hurts when you realize that the wound you’re patching up is only another addition to his collection.

“Not always,” He grunts as you press the cauterizer to the worst of the wound, “The Beskar usually protects me, but I was outnumbered and one of the guys managed to get a knife to my side.”

“You should be more careful,” You gently admonish the hunter and he simply sighs in response, most likely used to getting chewed out by Paz as well and you hope that the blue warrior gives him an earful in the morning. “You have scars of your own? You’re good at this,” The Mandalorian quietly asks when he notices the way your eyes linger on a thick keloid scar near his belly button before you go back to cauterizing the fresh wound. 

“Yes,” You quietly answer when you realize he must be trying to distract himself from the painful electricity crackling against his skin, “Those bandits on Tatooine... they had been torturing our village for a long time. Even when I was a little girl, I remember how scared my parents were before we would go to bed every night. That zabrak that you have on carbonite...”

You swallow the lump in your throat and try to shake away all of the horrific memories, ignoring the hunter’s visor as he burns holes into your skull.

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

Nothing is said between the two of you for several moments as you continue to patch up the injured hunter, memories of your family and cruel bandits lingering in your mind. You sink down completely on your bottom as you work slowly, not wanting to cause the hunter any excess pain as you listen to his little grunts and groans.

Your eyes finally flicker up to the hunter’s visor as you finish up with cauterizing his wound, dreading whatever it is he’s about to say as he gazes at you, “Was he one of the ones that hurt you and your family?”

You don’t respond as tears fill your eyes, though you somehow manage to not let any of them fall as you avoid his unforgiving gaze and dig through the sad excuse for a medkit instead. Eventually, you come across a half-used tube of numbing cream and the soft groan that escapes him when you gently rub your fingers around the cauterized wound instantly catches you off guard.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No,” He huffs out a soft noise, shaking his silver helmet with what almost feels like exasperation, “I’m used to Paz’s clumsy, rough hands and those usually hurt more. Your hands are just... nevermind.”

Your cheeks grow hot again, the hunter almost appearing flustered as well and you have to ignore the bulge that’s tenting the thick material of his pants, realizing why he’s acting so peculiar. As soon as you’re done, he shocks you even more by gently cupping your cheek, his rings cold and wet against your skin, “You’re shaking. Is it me you’re scared of, or the thunder?”

“The thunder. It’s so loud, like blasterfire or explosions,” You answer him and as if you called upon it itself, another boisterous boom shakes the metal ship and your heart frantically thrums as the hunter’s fingers slide to your nape before giving a firm squeeze. He’s trying to comfort you, you realize as he pulls you in a little closer until you can feel the heat radiating from his chest, and while you appreciate it, you immediately remember what Paz had told you days ago.

“Careful,” You quietly whisper as he guides you closer until your forehead is pressed against his Beskar-clad one, “The last thing you need in your life is another broken soul, apparently.”

You can tell he’s surprised that Paz actually told you what the two had talked about and another sigh escapes him as you rest your hands on his shoulders, the soft muscles there lightly flexing at the soft touch. Another boom of thunder has you leaning down further so you can fully wrap your arms around his neck and he tenses in the slightest as you gently hug him, shaking as the thunder rattles the ship.

You’re not sure why you seek comfort in someone you perceive to be so cold—someone who doesn’t even trust you—but your eyelids slip shut as his arms slide around your waist to hold you closer.

“I should not have said that about you,” He admits and you think it’s the closest you’re going to get to an apology, though you’ll take whatever you can get from him at this point and you shift until your cheek is resting on his shoulder. You squeeze your eyes shut and tense up with a small whimper as the thunder grows louder and you don’t even realize how badly you’re shaking until Mando softly shushes you, his hand slipping under your shirt before his palm is resting on the center of your back.

If he feels the bumpy scar splashed along your skin here and there, he doesn’t say anything about it, much to your gratitude.

“I don’t like it either—the thunder,” He quietly admits as your shaking eases up in the slightest, “Reminds me of the past too.”

You wonder if he’s seeking comfort in you as well and a gasp escapes you when his other hand moves to the back of your thigh as he guides you closer until you’re straddling his hips. Immediately, you worry that you’re going to hurt his wound, though when you voice your concerns he simply holds onto you a little tighter and lets out a relaxed sigh.

“I’m still mad at you,” Your actions betray your words as you melt against him and for the first time, you actually hear a quiet chuckle from the hunter.

“I’ll make sure to use the commlink the next time I’m working,” He promises as you finally lift your head from his shoulder, still straddling his hips as you peer at the hunter and watch a few drops of water trickle down his smooth helmet. Your breath hitches when his hand on your back slides up higher until his bare fingertips graze along the thin strap wrapped around your chest.

“M-Mando?”

“Sorry,” He grunts, shifting in a way that has him groaning and your heart feels as though it’s about to leap out of your chest, “Been a while since I’ve had someone as... soft as you on me. Just... fuck, just stay still for a minute.”

You relax a little more against him, remembering how Paz had said something so similar about you being soft the other day in the meadow. The blue warrior’s hands had been so firm and confident as he touched you, a stark contrast to the way the hunter uses a lighter touch and hesitates a little more. When he peels his hand away from the slope of your spine, you gently grab his hand to inspect the metal rings wrapped around several of his fingers and you’re somewhat surprised that he simply lets you.

It’s not until you notice that the ring on his thumb is engraved with unrecognizable symbols that you speak up, “Is this the language you and Paz were speaking the other day?”

“It is,” He murmurs when your eyes meet the upper half of his visor, “It means to endure, despite all odds.”

You ponder his words for several seconds before he’s pulling away from you to rest his palms on your thighs, his helmet nearly bumping against your temple as his visor lowers. He keeps his gaze on his hands as he slips his fingers past the hem of Paz’s shirt that you’ve all but stolen from him and no longer are you shivering from the cold, but anticipation.

"W-Won’t Paz be upset that you’re touching me like this?” You shyly ask the hunter, “I... I know the two of you are together.”

He chuckles again, showing more emotion in the last five minutes than you’ve seen from him in the last ten days, “I would not be doing this and Paz wouldn’t be flirting with you so much if we thought it might upset each other. Are you... Are you uncomfortable right now?”

“No, I’m just not used to being touched, but I... I like it.”

He hums before tightly grabbing your rear and yanking you closer until your clothed heat is pressed against his hard arousal, your cheek digging against the side of his helmet as you gasp. You can hear him panting underneath his helmet, his chest shaking in the slightest as you curl your fingertips against his shoulders.

It’s not until you fail to hold in a sneeze that the Mandalorian seems to snap out of his strange daze, straightening his back with a soft groan before fixing your shirt back in place.

“You should get into some warm clothes before you catch a bad cold,” He suggests, sounding tense and restrained as you accidentally shift against his lap again when you move to stand up, “Although I’m sure it’s too late for that, Tatooine girl.”

You roll your eyes with a small smile, holding your hand out to help him up and even though you’re certain he doesn’t need the help, his palm slides against yours. Even when he’s on his feet, you find it near impossible to let go of his warm hand, his thick fingers barely tightening around yours 

“Din.”

Your brows pinch together, confusion immediately flooding you.

“My name is Din Djarin,” He explains as he continues to gently hold your hand, keeping you in place, “You can say it when it’s just us and Paz, okay?”

You instantly grin at the small display of trust and give his hand a firm squeeze, urging it upwards until you’re able to give his knuckles a tender kiss “Thank you.”

“Yeah, just... go get some rest,” He huffs, suddenly seeming awkward as you continue to hold onto his hand, “We’re leaving this planet tomorrow and I can already tell that you’re going to be sick when you wake up.”

Even though you wake up the next day with a stuffy nose and a scratchy throat, you don’t regret standing out in the pouring rain—especially when you see how caught off guard Paz is as he watches Din remove his glove before brushing his fingers along your forehead.

“You two buddies now?” Paz asks with an amused snort when he notices the way Din lingers in almost a worried fashion, your shivering growing more intense upon feeling how nice his cold rings feel against your hot skin, “About time you stop being a stubborn asshole.”

Din simply scoffs, pushing a button on his vambrace to close the ramp and secure the ship, “We’re leaving now. Think you can manage to make it up to the cockpit so you can buckle in?”

“I... I think so, Din,” You sit up with a soft groan, a dull ache forming in the back of your head as you follow behind him, Paz’s hand pressed against your back for support. The moment you’re seated in your chair and buckled in, you’re out like a light once again.

Despite not feeling well, a tender smile stretches along your lips when you feel Paz wrapping his and Din’s capes around your shoulders, the blue warrior speaking in a quiet voice once the three of you are all settled in.

“What happened between the two of you that prompted you to give her your name?”

“She yelled at me before patching me up last night,” Din sounds unusually amused, his voice all hazy to you in your exhaustion, “Got mad at me because I asked her to go wake you up. Guess she’s not just some meek little creature like I first thought.”

Paz lets out with what sounds like a choked laugh, immediately making you smile as you shift into a more comfortable position on the chair, letting their filtered voices lull you further into that hazy darkness.

“Told you she’s a fierce little thing,” Paz is still laughing a little as Din hums in response, as if agreeing, “Like a verd’ika.”

You fall asleep with a smile on your face for the first time in years.

Translations:

Gar liser tenn laam at kaysh (You can open up to her)

Ogir cuyir shi kar'taylir darasuum bal aaray o'r kaysh kar'ta—Ni liser aalar bic  (There is only love and pain in her heart, I can feel it)

Gar liser ganar bic (You can have it)

You will soon end up like the ones who had perished in your village after it had been brutally attacked by bandits and raiders just days ago. Though you had barely escaped in one piece, you suddenly wished you had stayed so you could have at least had a quicker death, rather than slowly dying in the middle of nowhere. You had been foolish to think there would be another village nearby and tears finally trickle down your cheeks as you peer up at the moon, an intense feeling of despair seeping all the way down to your heart.

You miss your family.

The silence that surrounds you only makes you sob harder, loneliness eating away at you as you simply long for your family. Despite not living a luxurious life in the tiny village, it never diminished the love you had for the ones close to you. The images play on a loop in your mind--bodies covered in blood and lifeless eyes staring into your soul as you hid from the bandits--and you finally allow the physical and emotional pain to consume you.

In a way, it’s cathartic to let it all out without others being around to judge you, though it also has you longing for a comforting touch, whether that be a firm hug or someone just holding your hand. You’re reminded of the way your parents would comfort you and your siblings when you were younger, their voices always like soothing, cold water during the hottest days of summer and it only has you crying harder.

Once it feels like you can’t cry anymore and you’ve accepted your fate, you rest for the final time.

Hours pass--at least you think that as you barely cling onto life.

You don’t even realize you’re not dead until a quiet, filtered rasp manages to break through the darkness and silence that surrounds you, though your eyelids feel like they weigh a thousand pounds and are nearly impossible to crack open. It’s morning now, or maybe even the afternoon, judging by the way the suns ruthlessly beat down on you.

“How did she manage to get all of the way out here?” That hushed, soothing voice sounds a little further away and you wonder who he’s talking to until two leather digits press against the pulse on your neck. “The nearest village is days away on foot,” The person taking your pulse simply grunts in response and you finally manage to pry your eyes open when your curiosity threatens to overwhelm you. 

Who would be insane enough to trek through a desert on Tatooine?

Your vision is blurred, black dots floating around as you blink several times before it finally clears.

Instantly, you’re face to face with a t-shaped visor and--

A Mandalorian! 

Not just one, but two.

You think the lack of water and the intense heat has you hallucinating.

You had grown up hearing stories of the warriors, your oldest brother telling you how they were the strongest beings in the galaxy and typically not cruel to strangers who were innocent. There had been rumors of one living on Tatooine and as a little girl, you remember praying to the Maker that they would show up and rid your village of all the bandits that would terrorize your family and neighbors.

Even the Gods don’t want anything to do with Tatooine.

If you weren’t so exhausted and weak, you could have cried from relief and begged the two Mandalorians in front of you to save you, though your throat is far too dry and your mouth feels like cotton.

“What are you doing all the way out here, little one?” The blue Mando closest to you questions when he realizes you’re awake and you find that his voice is far more rough and brusque than his companion’s, though it’s not unpleasant in the slightest. After going days with nothing but your own thoughts to keep you company, you’re just happy and relieved to not be be alone

“P-Please... Help,” You manage to speak in a hoarse plea, tears spilling from your eyes as you clutch at the material covering the warrior’s ribs as tightly as you can, afraid that he’s simply going to stand up and leave you there to die. The way he leans in a little closer instantly fills you with hope and even though your face is mostly covered, you pray that he can see the desperation in your eyes and that he’s able to sympathize with you.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

He’s massive and wears scuffed up, dull blue and yellow armor that you think has seen several battles since it was forged; he’s all mismatched and terrifying, but in that moment, you see him as some sort of Beskar angel.

His armor looks far more worn than his companion’s as you lift your gaze to peer at him, though it only has you squinting your eyes in pain as the impossibly bright suns reflect off of the silver Beskar and you simply let your eyelids slip shut once again. You feel a hand touch the thick cloth that covers your cheekbone, your Beskar angel letting out a low hum as he assesses your injuries as much as he can with all of the fabric in the way.

“What are you doing?” The silver warrior questions, his tone now cold and your heart instantly shatters when he continues, “We don’t even know who she is and you want to bring her with us?”

“We can’t just leave her out here to die,” The Mandalorian crouched down next to you doesn’t hesitate to admonish him, his voice filled with sympathy and conviction, “The ship isn’t too far from here and I don’t mind carrying her. Who knows how long she’s been walking through this desert on foot.”

“We can’t just take in every stray you stumble upon. Besides, we don’t know her--what if she’s just another criminal? Tatooine is filled with scum.”

“Look at her!” The blue warrior instantly snaps, his voice tinged with anger towards his companion and you nearly cry upon realizing he’s willing to fight for your survival, “She’s so weak that she can’t even keep her eyes open and she looks injured. Who’s to say she wasn’t running away from a bad situation? Besides, if she does try anything, do you think she could really get the upper hand on two Mandalorians in her condition? She doesn’t even have a single weapon on her!”

You hear an exasperated sigh and before the shiny Mando can put up anymore of a fight, you feel clunky Beskar sliding under your knees while his other arm winds around your shoulders, bringing you off of the hot sand with ease. If your mind wasn’t so hazy, you would have marveled at his sheer strength, but you feel your body relax against his Beskar that has been warmed from the suns.

“If she tries anything, I’m putting her in carbonite.”

Instead of praying to the Maker for mercy like you had hours ago, you find yourself praying that the stories your brother had told you of Mandalorian are true and that these two strangers don’t have cruel intentions with you. The blue one carrying you seems nice enough, but the silver Mando with the quiet voice still has you on edge and you immediately tense up at the thought of essentially being frozen.

“You don’t have any slabs left available because you’re an impatient di’kut,” The blue warrior reminds him, sounding more amused than agitated and you hear a hint of fondness in his gruff voice, “Let’s just get her back to the ship and we’ll find out what happened to her.”

“Fine, but I’m putting the cuffs on her.”

The one carrying you is quick to shoot down that idea, “Unless you want me to give you a concussion, you’re not putting cuffs on her.”

Using all of your strength, you manage to curl your arms around your savior’s neck, your fingers pressing into the soft fabric covering his nape as you whisper out a meek ‘thank you’. It hurts your dry throat but you hope he can detect the genuine gratitude in your hoarse voice, tears filling your eyes as they crack open to peer at the silver Mando who’s trailing behind your savior.

His tilted visor is trained solely on your face, despite the fact that most of your features are covered by your white scarf and you can tell he’s still wary about your presence. For a moment, he fiddles with his cuffs before giving up with a tired sigh and you let your eyelids slip shut when you realize he’s no going to restrain you.

“Shh, little one,” The Mando carrying you intones, his rough voice soothing the ache in your heart as you sniffle, tears soaking your scarf, “It is safe to rest your eyes now. Once we get back to the ship, we’ll get some water and food in your belly again.”

That’s all he has to say for you to slump against his cuirass before you’re being tugged back into unconsciousness once again. You’re in and out of it for most of the journey and every single time you manage to pry your eyes open, the silver Mandalorian’s visor is fixated on you, putting you even more on edge until you fall back asleep again. Even with his gauntlets digging into your knees and shoulders, you find comfort in knowing that you have the protection of at least one Mandalorian and it’s the only thing that lets you rest as peacefully as your hectic mind will allow.

The next time you regain consciousness, it’s to the sounds of the warriors conversing with one another in hushed tones, perhaps in an attempt to not wake you up.

“Do you think it’s okay to take off her face coverings?” Your savior sounds hesitant as fingers graze along the material covering your jaw and something about it is endearing, “What if she has it on for a reason?”

He thinks your culture is similar to his--that you have to keep your identity concealed just like a Mandalorian--and if you weren’t so exhausted and in so much pain, you would have found this amusing. “Not everyone who covers their face does it because they’re sworn to a creed,” The silver Mando sounds just as entertained as you are, the terseness from earlier no longer lingering in his filtered rasp and when you finally open your eyes, you’re surprised to find how relaxed he appears as he sits on a crate adjacent from the cot you are laying on.

Your savior has his back to you as he stares at his companion, “I just don’t want to invade her privacy.”

“She’s probably wearing it to protect her skin from the suns.”

“You think so?”

“Ask her yourself.”

The blue warrior instantly turns to you, his visor tilted to the side as you stare back up at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling sheepish and shy. Slowly, you manage to sit up on the cot with a pained whimper and reach up to remove your white scarf that is stained with splotches of blood. As soon as the cold air cycling through the ship kisses your warm cheeks, you let your eyelids slip shut with a relieved sigh, the stained fabric that had protected you from the unforgiving suns falling to the metal floor next to your feet.

“You must be thirsty,” The blue Mandalorian’s rough voice has you opening your eyes and you nearly let out with a loud gasp when he offers you his canteen, “Here.”

The water could have been tainted with poison and you wouldn’t have even noticed as you chugged the cold liquid, a few tears escaping your eyes at the immense relief that instantly floods you after going days without a drop of liquid. “What is your name?” He inquires once you’ve sadly finished off all the water, though the one in silver approaches the two of you and retrieves the leather canteen, wandering off to perhaps refill it.

You hesitate to give the stranger an answer, especially after all you’ve been through these past few rotations, but you think if he wanted to hurt you, he would have done it by now and you eventually whisper your name after a pregnant pause. His visor tilts further to the side as you stare at his scuffed up cuirass rather than his helmet, tears filling your eyes when he asks how you ended up in the desert.

“It is okay, little one,” He soothes your pain with that gruff voice as he towers over you, “You’re safe now.”

“M-My village, it--” The blue warrior places a heavy hand on your shoulder as the terrifying memories of your home being burned to the ground play on repeat in your head and something about his firm touch is incredibly comforting, “The raiders they… They killed everyone and burned down all the buildings. My whole f-family--”

You don’t realize the shiny Mandalorian is within earshot until he says something in a foreign language that you don’t recognize, though you think he must have asked about you when your savior repeats your name in a terse voice, along with a few other words. 

“Dank farrik,” The smaller of the two sighs before angrily shoving the canteen into your hands and they continue to speak in their mother tongue, sounding as though they’re arguing.

“D-Did I do something wrong?” You meekly question them after you take several swigs of the cold water, tears still drying on your cheeks as they both gaze at you long enough to cause your nerves to spike even more. Anxiously, you pluck at the loose threads on the hem of your skirts, feeling anxious underneath the intense stares of such strong warriors when you feel the weakest you ever have in your life. The blue warrior angrily shakes his scuffed up helmet before hastily stomping off of the small ship, leaving you alone with the silver, brooding Mandalorian that seems far more awkward around you than his companion.

The ruddy, orange tips of his leather gloves curl against his sides as he silently regards you for a few more moments. 

“Come with me,” He eventually orders with a slight tilt of his helmet, urging you to follow him as you scramble to your bare feet to obey his gentle command. He leads you to the hull of the ship and you nearly cower away from him as he leads you through a small walkway that’s lined with several slabs of carbonite, afraid that you’ve done something wrong. With the blue Mandalorian gone, your mind runs rampant of all the horrible things this stranger can do to you and your gaze lifts to the huge rifle strapped to his back.

You freeze as you wonder how many people he’s killed with it, or if he prefers to use the smaller blaster holstered against his hip.

Upon noticing that you’re not following him, he turns to face you.

“I’m... I’m not going to hurt you,” He quietly promises when he notices your hesitation, his visor lingering on you as you eventually trail right behind him again, still clutching the leather canteen between your clammy palms, “I just want to see if you recognize someone.”

The stranger comes to a stop in front of one of the slabs of carbonite and confusion floods you as he gestures to it like one would offer a prize, though fear and horror immediately has your heart in a frenzy when you recognize the Zabrak frozen in time.

He had been among the many that had terrorized your village for so long.

“W-What is he doing here?!”

“He’s the leader of the group of bandits that burned down your village and he is also a quarry of ours,” He quietly explains in an oddly gentle voice, watching as the canteen slips from your palms and onto the floor of the ship, “We managed to track him down the day after the attack. I am... sorry we were too late.” 

The shiny Mandalorian holds a hand up in an attempt to calm you as panic tugs at your heart to the point where it’s difficult to breathe properly and you quickly back away from the hunter, fleeing further into the ship until you manage to find the refresher. You’re grateful there’s a lock on the door as you sink to the floor, the hunter’s voice calling out to you on the other side of the door, though there’s a sharp ringing noise blaring in your ears that makes it damn near impossible to hear even your own thoughts.

The Mandalorian eventually gives up on trying to get you to exit the refresher and leaves with a defeated sigh. You’re shaking with fear as you keep reminding yourself that the you’re on the same ship with the cruel monster that orchestrated the attack on your little village.

That Zabrak is the reason why your entire family was slaughtered.

And he’s on the same ship with you.

You sit there in solitude for quite some time, listening to the two Mandalorians as they quietly talk to one another in the hull of the ship. The larger of the two must have a naturally loud voice and you can’t stop yourself from smiling when his silver companion occasionally shushes him when he speaks your name. It sounds like they might be arguing about something and you hope it’s not about you, but judging by the irritation in both of their voices, you’re certain they’re trying to figure out what to do with you.

Especially now that you have no home to go back to.

A deep sigh pushes past your lips you as you finally stand, the warriors’ argument ceasing when you move to the sink and turn the water on to splash some of the cool liquid on your face. The stark contrast between the cold water compared to the sonic shower in your home is lovely and cathartic after having gone so long with only ever really having warm water.

There’s a firm knock on the door, the blue warrior calmly reciting your name in an effort to get you to come out, “It’s okay, I just want to talk with you.” 

Dread floods your frantic heart as you dry your face off with the sleeve of your dress before hesitantly cracking the door open to stare at his scuffed up cuirass, too afraid that if you look at his helmet, you’ll only breakdown again.

“I am sorry for your losses, little one,” The Mandalorian sighs, holding his hand out for you to take in a friendly gesture that has you opening the door all the way. “I know all too well the grief of losing loved ones,” You take hold of his hand and he immediately strokes a firm thumb along your knuckles, the foreign touch comforting as he guides you out of the refresher and to one of the crates so you can sit down.

“Are...” You hesitate as you finally peer up at his tilted visor, fear wrapping around you like a vice, “Are you two going to leave me here?”

A sigh escapes him and your eyes widen when he rests a leather palm on the side of your neck, his thumb grazing along your jaw as he takes in your appearance for several moments. Though you’ve only been in the presence of the two warriors for a couple hours, you realize just how different their personalities are. Your Beskar-clad angel is massive, loud, and rough around the edges, yet somehow so gentle around you, while the silver warrior is placid, quiet, and constantly brooding, wanting nothing to do with you. 

You can’t help but to wonder what their relationship to one another is, if they’re simply close friends or something more, given how they’re simultaneously comfortable and dysfunctional around each other.

“No, we’re not just going to leave you in the middle of nowhere,” He sounds oddly sad as he pulls you from your thoughts, his voice the quietest you’ve heard from him so far, “We can either drop you off somewhere safer or you can stay with us for a little while and help out with certain things on the ship.”

You don’t hear the silver Mandalorian descending from the cockpit, his visor on the two of you as shock courses through you. “Y-You would let me stay?” His fingers twitch against your neck upon hearing the way your voice shakes, your eyes burning at the kindness he’s displaying, “But... I don’t think the other Mandalorian really wants me here. He doesn’t trust me.”

His blue pauldrons slump and you resist the urge to reach out and trace a silver indentation on the worn armor, “It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, we’re just not used to being around people who don’t want to kill us.”

You contemplate his words thoroughly as his thumb continues to stroke your jawline and after going several days without anyone to talk to or share your fear with, the touch is a warm welcome. “Well, after everything that happened to my village, I don’t think I have it in me to hurt anyone, let alone kill,” Your own shoulders slump, eyelids slipping shut as you remember how scared you had been as you hid yourself from the bandits underneath a pile of bloody, lifeless bodies.

You don’t realize you’re shaking until the silver Mandalorian makes his presence known by softly saying a word in what you think is their mother tongue, instantly earning his companion’s unwavering attention.

“Vizsla.”

You quickly pull away and wipe the tears from your flushed cheeks, a heavy hand lingering on your shoulder as the quiet Mandalorian speaks in that gentle rasp that sounds softer than usual and you feel bashful when his visor lowers to regard you. 

“I set the coordinates for the next stop,” He appears awkward as his fingers flex against his thighs, his visor still fixated on you as he offers you a sharp nod. The blue warrior chuckles, though you’re not sure why as his companion approaches the two of you, seeming to tense up a little more and you’re certain that the silver Mando hates you already.

“This is your last chance for us to drop you off at the nearest village,” He warns you as the heavy-infantry warrior gives your shoulder a firm squeeze, as if trying to give you some of his strength even though you feel devastatingly weak, “Otherwise you’re stuck with us until further notice. We can’t guarantee your safety.”

You try your hardest to appear tough in front of the hunter, though his helmet tilts to the side with what feels like amusement as you awkwardly shift on your feet, “I… I have no family left and nowhere else to go. I would rather be with you two than have to suffer alone in an unfamiliar village that may or may not be attacked by cruel people again.”

He hesitates, visor shifting between you and the Mandalorian at your side, before nodding and making his way back to the cockpit without another word, pulling a sigh from the blue warrior as he turns back to you, tilting his helmet in the direction of the ladder. “Come on, little one,” He helps you off the crate before guiding you to the cockpit, following close behind as you push yourself up the ladder. Before you can say anything else, you’re interrupted by an intense rumble coming from your empty stomach and you pray that he didn’t hear it, though judging by his snort of laughter, your prayers were unanswered.

“Once we make the jump into hyperspace we’ll get you some food. Flying can be a lot if you’re not used to it and I don’t want you throwing up all over the cockpit.”

A warmth blossoms across your cheeks as the metal doors slide open, his palm still covering the small of your back as he urges you to sit in one of the unoccupied co-pilot chairs. You quickly buckle in as the brooding hunter flicks some switches on the console, seeming completely at ease as his blue companion lazily plops down in the chair next to you, the two of them not bothering with their seatbelts. Briefly, you wonder how long they’ve been doing this--traveling with one another--and with how sure of himself the silver Mando appears as he easily guides the ship off the sandy ground, you think it’s been quite a while.

“Have you ever been off Tatooine before?” The blue warrior asks you when he notices how tightly you’re clutching your seatbelt the further the ship ascends and you force yourself to relax your stiff fingers. “N-No,” You quietly inform him, tearing your gaze away from the windows to peer at him instead, “I lived in that village for all my life. When... When everything happened with the bandits, I wasn’t sure where to go, so I just ran.”

His visor tilts to the side and as he continues to speak, you can’t stop yourself from wondering if he’s doing it to distract you as the ship breaks the atmosphere of the sandy planet. “Well, it’s a good thing we happened to be close by since the nearest city was at least four more cycles away on foot,” This information makes you shudder and instantly, you grow quiet, knowing that there was no way you would have ever made it if they hadn’t shown up when they did.

He seems to notice your melancholic disposition and is quick to change the subject, his filtered voice melting into something more lighthearted that has you weakly smiling at his visor. “Maybe it’s a good thing you’re here,” He tilts his helmet to where his silver companion is piloting the ship into space, “He doesn’t exactly make for the best company sometimes, always brooding and complaining. Besides, you’re far prettier to look at.”

Your cheeks immediately grow warm at his sudden coyness, though it only seems to exasperate the other Mandalorian as he sighs, his silver helmet shaking as starlight reflects off of the pretty Beskar.

As the old, rickety ship makes the jump to hyperspace, causing a queasy sensation in the pit of your belly, you think that maybe the two of them don’t make for bad company at all.