#astravore

✰ Ao3 ✰ Playlist ✰

Astravore

Rating ✰ Teen & Up

Warnings ✰ Graphic Depictions of Violence.

Fandoms ✰ Project Hail Mary ✰ Andy Weir, David Szymanski's Iron Lung ✰ All Media Types

Language ✰ English

Summary

I’m stuck in one body.

Stuck in one mind.

For the rest of my life.

This is the rest of my life.

For I will devour this fate,

and grow my own from its remains.

I can feel my body breaking apart.

-OR!!

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.” 

MAJOR TW FOR BODY HORROR AND GORE!

highkey, if grace opened a door and saw a blood clot with flowers, tentacles, torn sinew, and teeth sticking out of it sobbing out his name with like 50 voices layered over its own, he's slamming the door shut and crying in the hallway😭

at least until he's able to come to the conclusion that that blood clot is simon, and then waiting outside of the door until simon looks mostly human enough for grace to not shit himself on the spot and comfort him from there (still at least 6 feet away) 😭

I’ll post it in the morning!!! 🔥🔥💯💯‼️🔥‼️ (also i may or may not have made a sick ass poster/cover to go with the fic hehehehe)

it’s like 7k words long but it’s ok because the other side is like 10x longer than that

Hell yeah brother!!

hell yeah twin