#manda'lor

After the Great Forge was lit once more, it was all hands on deck to help rebuild. Well, as many hands as they could get. Kryze Clan—the Nite Owls—and The Children of the Death Watch. The Owls had the advantage of living in Sundari previously so they knew what it was supposed to look like. 

But Din had no plans to revive Mandalore if it was to be exactly as it was before the Empire touched it. That would mean the same problems, the same fights amongst one another. Their home would fall yet again. This was going to be a new age for Mandalore.

Thank the Maker he had Milena or he would’ve quit long ago. She aided with telling the tribes what needed to get done. With some resistance. 

Death Watch didn’t trust her because she took off her helmet. Begrudgingly, at the behest of the Armorer, they followed her orders. Nite Owls didn’t trust her because she was a Jedi. They only followed her orders because Mandalore was their home. 

Milena walked through the halls as they were under construction, buzzes of saws, hisses of welding equipment, and bangs of hammers created a symphony as sparks flew around her and sunlight streamed through the cracks above. 

The Great Forge was the first thing fully restored as it was the heart of their culture. The dark metal of the forge gleamed as blue fire burned within. A few Mandalorians were using it, hammers ringing out melodically among the other noises. 

It was everything Milena had hoped it would be. Though, from the stories from her parents and elders, there were more blacksmiths constantly working at any given time. Rather than the five she saw, there would have been fifteen, maybe twenty. 

A man in Nite Owl armor turned towards Milena, dropping a piece of hot Beskar into the quenching waters, causing it to sizzle. Axe Woves. “If it isn’t the Mand’alor’s right hand man.” He snarled. Among those who did not have a taste for Milena Vanda, he was the most vocal about it. “What do you want?”

“Just checking in. Everything going alright?” Milena looked amongst the other Mandalorians, admiring the work they were doing. 

Although her tribe did not mind, she wasn’t oblivious to how others felt about Jedi. There was still so much animosity. Jedi and Mandalorians could not coexist, they had fought against each other in wars, breeding distrust. 

Yet they did. Within one person. 

Defensively, Axe turned back towards the quenching tank to fish out his piece with tongs. “Going fine.” He let the water drip down, causing perfect ripples to disrupt the calm water. “Can’t believe a Mand’alor would even let a Jedi onto his council. How self-serving they are.” He said almost absentmindedly.

By the looks on his comrades' faces, they were surprised he would say such a thing in front of her. To get a reaction. To prove his point. 

“I am more loyal to Din Djarin than any of you are to the Ways of the Mand’alor. What he wants of me, I will do without any doubt.” Milena was calm, her words firm. “Perhaps you would learn more if you opened your mind rather than your mouth.” She turned and left, crimson scarf swaying behind her. 

The suns of Mandalore warmed the planet, finally. After so long of cold, covered by miles of glass, the surface had to readjust to the rays. Plants used to living in low-light died, to be replaced with something new sometime soon. 

Still, Din felt something akin to rightness in his chest. His boots had finally touched Mandalorian soil. There was still plenty to do, plenty to figure out, but he let himself savor this small pleasure. 

He looked toward the horizon, watching as soft clouds moved across the blue skies and cast shadows on the ground, the collapsed buildings, the Mandalorians in the midst of construction, and the palace. 

Some Nite Owls who were in the midst of a break, eating from packaged tins, had their helmets off and soaked in the sun as it warmed their faces.

Emotions surged through his body. A part of him wanted to cry. Overwhelmed. 

There was nothing Din could do to repay Milena for all the things she had done. It was because of her that the surface could see the light of day once more. It was because of her that he considered a trip to Mandalore, to become the ruler, to bring the tribes together. The reason his parents would be proud of the man he became. 

He bared memories of them yet could not recall their faces. Blurry from time. He could remember helping his mother in the kitchen, mixing cake batter and sneaking some into his mouth, attempting to slice nuts before his father stepped in when he cut himself, finally biting into a cake, warm and rich with flavor, crunchy and creamy, while his parents watched. Assumedly, with affection in their eyes. 

Surely he carried both their looks, but he could never know for certain. Did he share his aquiline nose with his mother? Or his father?

Grogu cooed in his arms. “Yeah. I think she’s pretty great too.” Din hummed, scratching at the child’s head. “It is due to her that our people will finally have a place to call home.” 

He carried him through the palace, nodding at the Mandalorians he saw along the way until he stopped at the throne room. Banners of clans, dirty and torn at the ends still swayed gently above them. Milena stood ahead of him, staring at the large hall. 

Din set Grogu down. The child ran around the space, peering around with wonder in his large eyes. 

“Milena.” He stepped beside her.

“Din.” She nodded, acknowledging him. Soon, a smile gradually spread over her beautiful face. “Sometimes I can’t believe it. Yet we are standing in the Sundari Palace.” 

“Yes. We are.” Din rasped, watching as Grogu climbed onto the throne. 

He had made up his mind long ago, all that was needed was a push. And a push he had found. The restoration process was going rather smoothly.

Turning to Milena, Din took her hand. She tilted her head at him, interest glittering in her eyes. “We haven’t known each other long and yet it feels like you know my soul better than myself.” He then took her other hand, squeezing both. He hoped she could feel the weight of his gaze through his helmet. “And so… I would like to court you.”

She didn’t breathe, didn’t move, just stood frozen. He worried that meant denial, that she did not feel the same burning, burdening care he felt for her. 

“Are you sure?” Milena finally asked in a hushed whisper. “The others would not be agreeable to it.” Not denial. Not outright acceptance either. 

Din held her hands more firmly, thumbs grazing over her knuckles. “To be honest, you being a Jedi means nothing to me. Nor does station. Or bloodline. What means more to me is honor. And loyalty. And character. These are the reasons I want you, Lady Vanda. Our song is not yet written.” He did not often say words he did not mean. He knew she could sense the truth in them. 

With a shuddering breath, Milena squeezed his hands. “Din…” There was a swirl of emotions in her eyes which only he could understand.

“May I court you?” He finally asked though he knew the answer now.

“Yes.” She chuckled, a brighter smile spreading across her features which made her comparable to the sun. He wanted to capture that moment forever. 

His heart beat louder in his head, banging against his ribs like a drum. Would it burst out of him? Would it matter? As long as he bled for her. He could imagine she would lick up all the blood and feed it back to him. 

Milena slipped her hands from his, sliding over his arms, his shoulders, until her palms found the cheeks of his helmet. He tensed, but trusted her implicitly. 

She pressed her head against the cool metal of his helmet. Din let out a breath, pressing against her more firmly, eyes closed, as if that would help to feel her while his hands found purchase on her waist. 

This closeness, even completely armored, the both of them, was not what he was used to. He had barely seen any Mandalorian couples engage in physical touch, in his tribe at least, making the touches they did share all the more meaningful. 

A new age, indeed.

In the evening, while in one of the many rooms in the palace that used to be a meeting room, Din sat with Milena and Bo-Katan. “How would we grow our population? Our people are scattered like stars across the Galaxy.” He posed the question that had been on his mind for a while.

Milena’s tribe was still on Hoth, somewhere, so he could likely get a message to them and persuade them to come to Mandalore. But that was only because he knew of their location. Surely there were other Mandalorians. Other Mandalorians he did not know of. 

“Perhaps we should follow any leads anyone may have. Put together a search party once we get more information.” Bo-Katan suggested.

“That would exhaust the little resources we have.” Milena reasoned. “And forcing our people to come to Mandalore would be like asking them to give up their armor.”  

Din let out a breath, sliding his hands across the table. It was hard to be rooted after so long of being on the run. Particularly as the ruler of Mandalore. Traveling was not in the cards any time soon for him. 

Bo-Katan narrowed her eyes at Milena. “Well, what would you have us do, then?” 

“An open invitation.” She responded. “Send out a message as far as possible. That way, they do not feel pressured. But welcome, should they choose to come.” 

Din turned his head towards Milena. Compassion was something she carried with her into everything and he could not deny that he admired her for it. Some may say that made her weak. He knew the truth. It made her the strongest of them all. 

“That is the stupidest—” Bo-Katan started.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea.” Din cut her off, standing from the table, prompting the two women beside him to stand. “But what should I say?”

Milena motioned towards him. “Whatever comes to mind. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

He didn’t have as much faith. Words weren’t a strong suit. He surprised himself when he spoke with her earlier. He had just spoken from the heart. Still measured. Still careful. From the heart nevertheless. 

Bo-Katan hummed non-committedly. “As long as more Mandalorians come home, I frankly don’t give a damn why.” 

So, they went along with Milena’s plan. A holo-message was sent out to every corner of the Galaxy they were able to reach with what signal they had, blue and glowing in front of many different faces and helmets alike.

“Hello,” Din started, “I am Din Djarin, the current ruler of Mandalore.” He paused, the message crackling. He moved to take off his helmet, depressurizing with a hiss, revealing his face to whoever saw the message. “I invite any and all Mandalorians back to Mandalore. It is safe. Not cursed like some may believe. We are in the midst of rebuilding. I implore you to help us rebuild our home but…” 

There was silence as he searched for the words, even through the automated message, any onlooker felt as though he spoke straight to them. 

He looked straight ahead, something in him shifting. “I don’t care about that. I wish you to come home so you may feel welcome. So we can live in the light once again on a planet where we are welcome, so our culture may flourish and our children can feel what it is to play in the sunlight. We have been in the dark too long.”

The message ended, hologram fizzling out. Not every Mandalorian would see it. The hope was that word would spread and more isolated tribes would hear and take the gamble to travel to Mandalore. 

Taking off his helmet was a risky move, though it was his own idea. His people had to know his face. They had to connect with him somehow, had to gauge how genuine he was without solely relying on his voice or the fact that he wore Mandalorian armor. 

i) The Court of Houses;

a) The Court of Houses will represent

ii) The Sector Governors;

a) Sector governors are the governing bodies for Mandalorians of the sector, not the entirety of that sector, with the exception of Mando’ade majority sectors such as Mandalore. b) Recognised Sector Governors are c) Recognised Territory Governors (Sector Governors for areas where Mando’ade are the minority, such as the Governor for Coruscanta Mando’ade)

iii) The System Governors;

a) System Governors

iv) The Astro Body Governors;

a) Astrological Body Governors are the Governing Body for Satellite Systems, individual planets, moons, and other such forms. b) A conglomerate of Astrological Bodies can unite under one governor to improve their resource allocation with permittance from Mandalorian Space.

v) District Electoral Members

 a) Incomplete

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vi) Electoral Voters;

a) Every citizen of age within an electorate is considered an Electoral Voter. As long as you have an Identity Code, Communication Number, and your birth year – not the full date, a Government Official related to an election does not require this knowledge – you are an eligible voter. b) A voter is not required to declare their race. c) A voter is not required to list their gender. d) A Voter is not required to list their Clan or House in any way. e) A Voter is not required to list their biological sex or sexuality before, after or during the vote. f) A Voter is not required to answer questions about their voting history outside of whether or not this is their first vote. If it is their first vote, the only assistance an Overseer can give is advice on what filling out the form looks like and how it is done, not how to fill it to the Overseer’s preferences. g) A voter is entitled to their privacy, and the assistance of the Scrutineer if help is needed. h) A voter is entitled to fill out an electoral form in a language they speak proficiently. i) Illiterate or blind voters can answer a voting ballot digitally or by an audio questionnaire the day before the vote to allow them privacy during the ballot.

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vii) Voting conditions;

a) A vote will be considered invalid if no boxes are ticked, or if answered inappropriately. Inappropriate votes are counted in a separate tally for each region, and are part of the final results under the listing ‘DNF’ to show true election percentages.

viii) Overseers of the Ballot;

 a) Incomplete

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ix) Postal Elections

a) Postal elections can be completed at any Mandalorian Embassy in the Galaxy, and at any post office within the Mandalorian Sector. They must be completed at minimum, three full days before the voting day, or they will be counted as an inappropriate vote. b) Votes that go missing will still have their date carbon stamped into their digital-print, and can still be considered legal. c) Postal elections require an Identity Number, Communication Code, and the voters birth year in order to acknowledge that that the voter has completed their ballot and will not be fined. d) Even if the vote does go missing, the voter will not suffer penalty. It will, again, be counted as an inappropriate vote.

x) Voting Eligibility

 a) Incomplete

xi) Right and Responsibility

a) Not attending or filling out a ballot on the day or before the day of election can result in a fine. b) It is a right, and responsibility to vote, not a privilege. Employers must allocate time for employees to vote either on the day, or to have time to complete the postal ballot. Not meeting these requirements will come at cost to the employer, not the employee.

xii) Conditions for Referendum, Re-election and Hung Parliamentary Votes

a) Incomplete

[As always, if you have any ideas, questions, or criticism, let me know! Electoral process will look very different to what some of you know, but I stress that this is almost the exact system my country works under. Voting is a responsibility, not a privilege, and you will get your say whether you want to or not - and maybe a sausage out of it if you're in a cool electorate - hey, maybe Mandalorians can have a street vendor giving away food on the day? Sick!]

when i first started this au, it was meant to be shorter - as always when writing for this man, something overtook me and i ended up with 30+ pages of text. i tried to adapt it as best as possible with the star wars/mandalorian universe while still keeping some aspects of the original myth. some characters might be ooc. for cyar’s dresses, i used mandalorian armor colour meaning. 

Author’s note: cupid and psyche is a story originally from apuleius’ metamorphoses. it tells of the love between a princess, psyche, young and beautiful - so beautiful people neglected their worship of the goddess venus in favour of her -, and cupid (or eros or amor), venus’ son. the goddess sends her child to shoot an arrow to psyche that will make her fall in love with an hideous creature - instead, cupid pricks himself with his own dart and falls for the girl.

meanwhile, an oracle says to her father that she is destined to marry “a dragon-like creature who harasses the world with fire and iron and is feared by even jupiter and the inhabitants of the underworld” - so the girl is dressed in funeral attire and sent off to a peaky rock, where zephyrus will later bring her towards her destiny. cupid and psyche marry, but there’s only one condition: she cannot look upon her husband, and all their meetings happen at night, in the darkness.

when her sisters visit psyche in her new home, envious, they bring up the oracle that foretold she would end up with a monstrous creature, and convince her to try and spy on her husband’s face. so one night, she looks at him with the aid of a oil lamp and, startled by his beauty, accidentally spills the oil on him, wounding him and making him flee.

after that, in her attempt to seek help and her lover, psyche ends up meeting venus herself, and she puts her through a series of impossible tasks - the last one causes psyche to fall into a deep, death-like slumber: that is when cupid, now healed, finds her again, takes the sleep from her face and brings their case to zeus himself, who agrees on making her immortal and marrying them as equals.

special thanks to @lcvenderblues​ for putting up with me during the creation of this. love you <3

ps: how many references to pride & prejudice (2005) can you add in a single fic? the answer might surprise you!