#mandoxreader

"Well, looks like we're making cookies!" You grab a bowl and bring it to the camera, filling it with the egg whites and the cream you'd gotten at the behest of a few villagers you'd met several days ago. The places you'd travelled to had often yielded both unimaginable (to you) adventures and was often rewarded with homely little goods or money, but they were often a combination that greatly helped you pick out what you wanted. The last planet you'd been on, a pretty planet named Naboo, had offered you some goods that were easy to keep in the foodstore inside the Crest. The eggs belonged to some animals whose name you couldn't remember, but all that mattered was that the ingredients given to you by some thankful shop-owners you'd inadvertently helped by getting rid of the bounty had thanked you with some confectionary recipes for on-the-go dessert as a thank you, and also gave you at least 3 weeks of ingredients' worth for it! Mando sighed as he accepted, and you were determined to use them; it'd clear the shelves for the 'more important foodstuffs' he'd claim, like the practical grump he was.

"So, we've got our bowl with the rested egg whites, and the yokes I already cooked for breakfast, isn't that right, Grogu?" you asked, turning to the small green child who cooed in agreement, the camera catching your interactions as you spoke on about the ingredients of green sugar, blue cream, some paste that was almost almond-like, etc. You'd no idea that some sugars and milks in the galaxy could come in their own colours like that, but it just goes to show how far humankind could go if they weren't currently warring over dreams of delusional imperialism.

You turned to Grogu often, letting him join in the cooking after introducing the ingredients.

"Here, Grogu, could you pour the sugar in for me?" You'd lift him up and use a free hand to help him pour the contents of the bowl and then kiss his cheek as he laughed. "What a lovely assistant you are!"

"Would you pass me the spatula, dear?" He cooed as he lifted a small spoon, before you told him it was the one beyond, and as he grabbed it, you called him a 'sweet and clever sous-chef!' and bopped his teeny tiny nose before helping him stir the ingredients to finish off the quick recipe. Soon enough, it was time to put the fast-made sandwich batter for the macarons onto baking sheets and warm them, and you and Grogu laughed as you piped little circles of the batter onto a hoverpan, known to be the perfect non-stick pan even in heavy baking! You gave Grogu the important job of holding a small heart-shaped thick wire that worked as a cookie-cutter, and the wire was clean and usable, you'd made sure. Grogu was up to the task, concentrating very hard, his little eyes narrowing to inspect your work and ears perking up at every little heart-shape you both made. He took his job seriously and it warmed your heart every time.

By the time the pan was covered in two dozen hearts, the first two hearts were ready to be baked. In a matter of a few more minutes filled with your storytelling of Mando's most recent hunt, every last one of the hearts were ready, the quick-acting flour doing its job well. "Well, these look ready, so, with my sous-chef's word, we shall bake them! What do you say, chef? Shall we show our audience how to cook?"

Grogu's tiny fists waved in the air as he let out a squeal of agreement, and with a kiss to his head, you placed it into the Crest's oven, no preheat needed.

The wait was only 30 minutes, and you filled that time playing with Grogu, keeping him occupied as he passed you some sugar and milk, spilling a teeny bit as he lifted it to you, and you took it graciously and joked about the milk being excited enough to leap, just to hear Grogu giggle.

Grogu helped you mix, and in the corner of your eye, you could see your phone still recording, you and your lively little green boy stirring some fluffy butter-cream mix together for his cookies. You didn't know if he could read these recipe cards, but he was clearly vivacious, eager for the world, seeing it with the eyes of a child, even though he's known so much pain. This video wasn't just to make a joke and some fun: it was a small part selfish, but a bigger part for Grogu: he was already 50, and considering how young he was, it was clear he was going to outlive you. You didn't know if you'd be able to see him beyond a toddler's age, didn't know if you'd be able to hear him speak English/Basic, didn't know if sometime in the future, he might even forget you, or worse: not have the means or time to do something that makes him happy in a galaxy, a whole fucking galaxy's worth of enemies. You wanted to leave something for him, a memory of something fun, and maybe, just maybe, you'd find some way of living too, even as a little ghost who brought Grogu some joy in his young life. You'd give anything to be with him, but even you were mortal: you hoped you could give him a childhood to look back on before the future comes, whenever it may be.

The timer dinged in the midst of your little game of patty-cake you were teaching your three-fingered companion, and he jumped up, ears perking at the sudden noise. His eyes lit up, and you giggled at his antics. "Looks like our cookies are ready!"

His scream of joy was worth your teeth nearly gritting. His little feet pitter-pattered towards the oven that took you only a few steps to reach, but you walked slowly so as to give him time. "Come along, sous-chef, let's see what we made!" You had to move Grogu from the oven's front as he stubbornly squirmed until you told him hot air might hit him, and when he moved, you grabbed a protective handler and took the hoverpan out, placing it on the counter. You could feel Grogu tug on your clothes, trying to get up, so you picked him up and let him see the cookies.

"Well, it looks like we're finished! We just need to put them on the cooling rack! Would you help me, oh great sous-chef?" you exaggerated with a flourished bow, and a coo answered you in the affirmative. You took Grogu in your hands, took a flat-headed spatula that should be legally classified as a giant screwdriver, and with both your hand and Grogu's on the handle, lifted the first cookie up off the pan, the airy concoction coming up effortlessly, and you flipped it onto a cooling rack, making Grogu kick his little feet in excitement at this new activity. You two continued to flip the cookies, making sure you were explaining to Grogu to 'flick the wrist' and 'be gentle, or they might break before we can use them, okay hon?" and soon enough all the shells were cooling. You checked the recipe card from the shop-owner once more, seeing that the cookie shells just needed "a moment to rise and then it would be ready for the filling"; you turned to Grogu, telling him: "we can wait, right? We're almost done?" He tilted his head at you, and you nodded back, setting him down on the counter. "Well, we heard him, we're almost done and then its time for filling the cookies and eating! Did you want to say hi to the camera, sous-chef? Any words?" You pointed him the camera out to him, and he waved at his reflection, babbling at the phone, before the last clump of green sugar left from cooking caught his interest.

The timer blinking on your phone, and with Grogu occupied within supervision, you decided to add a personal touch to the video.

"So, Grogu and I made some cookies today, and we found out that flipping the cakes is a lot of fun! And that we have to be careful near heat sources, right?" You sighed at the camera, eyes distant, looking at Grogu in the camera who was facing the cookies, watching them with interest. "I hope that this recipe is something that you can enjoy any time, and I hope life gives you many sweet treats as sweet as you are. You're the world to me, baby, I love you so much; I hope you know that, sweetling". You smiled softly at the camera, before your expression turned to one of confusion as a turquoise macaron shell hovered in the air, Grogu's eyes narrowed and hand raised.

"Grogu no! They need to cool-" You got out of your seat and caught the cookie as it was making its way, hissing at the heat remaining on it before putting it back on the rack. You turned back to Grogu, his teeny hand now down as he looked up at you with those puppy eyes that screamed innocence with the gleam of mischief only you, Mando, and other parents could recognize in him. Snickering, you pick him up, cradling him to you, as you spoke with as honeyed a stern voice as you could make: "Grogu, those need to cool before we put the icing in or they'll get mushy and not tasty!"

The last thing the camera saw was a human placing buttercream onto little green shells, and a green baby putting another one atop, making a sandwich, both filled with smiles on their faces, love in their hearts as the human fed the tiny one the first of the cookies, the child enjoying them quite dearly.

Mando heard a beep registering on his vambrace, the alert not important but originating from his ship: your 'phone' he'd connected to his systems had taken a video. He remembered how he'd tracked your moves when you came aboard, and though it wasn't necessary, it was still a precaution that could help, he believed. The notification was a video file, titled Craver Crest1_ Cookies.

Well, it was alliterated?

He opened up the file. His helmet's visor picked up the command, and as he walked down the tunnels back towards the Crest since he'd delivered the bounty, the backdrop of the dark empty tunnel was perfect for the hologram as it appeared from his vambrace's built-in holoprojector.

You were so lucky Mando had come across you in his way back or you would’ve been dead. You had gotten bored sitting in the ship and the child had gotten hungry, complaining for food. You had given him to few snacks left, before walking out and going to look for food, having forgotten the rules he had given you yesterday. 

That’s exactly how you had ended up in this situation, a group stopping you and currently holding blasters towards you. “Put them down.” A voice called; Y/n let out a sigh of relief. “A Mandalorian? Even better.” the leader grinned, watching as he grabbed his blaster and looked at them.

 “If you shoot them” he started but they had cut him off, already shooting at you. Luckily, you had ducked in time, missing the shot that wounded the one that was holding onto you and who was pressing the gun to your head. He fell to the floor, the others shooting between you and Mando who was currently fighting the leader. 

As you managed to overpower one of them, you missed the one that was behind you who was aiming directly at you. “Watch out!” Din shouted, you looking over in confusion before catching on too late, the blast hitting you and wounding your arm. Mando punched the leader, sending him collapsing to the floor before he got up, scrambling away as Din moved on to some of the others.

 “Retreat!” the leader ordered, Mando holding one of the others against the wall and punching him numerous times. “Mando!” you shouted, trying to get his attention as they saw the enemies face getting bloodier and bloodier but he was too blinded by anger. 

The sound of someone collapsing brought him out of the trance, turning around and immediately running to your side, seeing your shirt get more and more stained with the crimson colour of your blood, forgetting about the enemy who had united with the rest of the group and ran the opposite direction. “Stay with me, Cyar’ika.” was the last thing you heard before you felt yourself pass out.

----

“You’re awake.” He said bluntly, his emotions unknown as he masked it, filling you with doubt. “What did I tell you yesterday?” he reminded, earning a sigh as you rubbed your eyes and stretched, wincing at the pain in your arm. You had never hated the helmet more than now, unable to tell if he was angry or concerned or both. 

“What if I hadn’t gotten there in time?” he raised his voice. He was slightly angry, but it was mainly fear taking over him. You had been with him for months now, just before he had found the child and he couldn’t imagine going around without you, as daft as it sounds considering they were just work partners. Regret filled him as he saw your eyes start to miss up, tears threatening to spill at any second. 

“It was a mistake and...and I know I can never fix this.” you commented, voice cracking and getting up from the chair before climbing down the ladder, hearing him follow behind. “Wait-” he started, you shaking your head and ignoring his requests. “Good night Mando.” you said quietly, going into your room and the door shutting behind, leaving him there with his thoughts. 

He sighed sitting down on his mattress and holding his head in his hands. He fiddled with his helmet before snaps and a hiss was heard, lifting the helmet off and setting it beside him. He headed into the fresher, getting changed out of his armour before checking on the green child, asleep in his hammock above him before settling down for the night, preparing himself for tomorrow. 

----

When you had woken up and gotten ready for the day, you had walked out of the room to be met with a silent ship. His room was left open, nothing on the mattress and the child’s hammock empty. You walked over to the ladder, peering up at the cockpit which was also empty, causing you to frown. He never left without letting you know where he was going but you had also never had an argument like yesterday. 

Despite Din not being in the ship, there was a tense atmosphere, making you let out a huff as you knew you’d have to confront him about it today. Pressing the door to the Razor Crest open, you calmed down, seeing him sat with the little green child next to him, looking at the view. Cautiously, you walked over, not sure of what to say. 

There was no need to announce your presence, as he was aware anyway. “Morning.” you said softly, not meeting his eyes as you watched the child walk around, feeling his gaze on you. “I didn’t mean to react the way I did...” he started, never being more thankful for the helmet, his nerves not noticeable.

“It’s just...all I care about it you - and the child obviously.” he tried to explain, not being the best with words. “It’s okay, I should’ve listened to you Din.” you gave in, knowing you were also somewhat in the wrong. He didn’t respond, rather carefully grabbing your chin with his gloved hand and bringing your forehead to his, resting it against it. 

They didn’t exchange words; the only things being heard is the breathing coming from both of them and the occasional chirp from birds. His hand intertwined with yours, squeezing it comfortingly. 

Thanks @thegildedquill​ for the Mando’a Challenge! Summary:  The Mandalorian meets a ruthless failed Jedi, who somehow navigates through the intricacies of the man beneath the beskar.

Prompt: “gett’se”, Mando’a word for ‘courage’, ‘nerve’ or ‘nuts’ (generic) Word count: 6.9K

Warnings: Mandalorian typical violence, light mentions of injuries, season 1 spoilers

“What’s wrong?” The deep voice from the captain’s chair jarred her from her thoughts: not only from the sudden, almost deafening onset of sound in the otherwise silent cockpit, but his sporadic initiation of conversation. She wasn’t entirely sure how long she’d been staring out into the black void of space that laid before the ship. Ten minutes? Maybe twenty? “Uh, yeah. I’m fine. Just thinking, is all.” She relaxed back into the seat, fingers blindly trained on the edges of the domed crib beside her. A sharp intake of air. Was that a laugh? “Don’t hurt yourself.”  She cocked her head towards him, incredulously.  “What are you thinking about?”  He continued, not turning his helmeted head. “Oh, you know. Just everything, I guess. We’ve been on the run for…How many years now?”  Pressing the autopilot button, his chair swiveled to face her, expressionless as always. He slumped down, placing his elbows on his beskar clad legs. “Five years? Six?”  The subtle tilt of his helmet told her that he hadn’t really considered it until she brought it up.  He peered at her through his visor, suddenly glad that she was unable to see his eyes, trained on her petite form.

She was a far cry from the drunken brawler he had met all those years ago, and his lips, hidden behind beskar, tugged into a semblance of a smile at the vivid memory. The newly failed Jedi stood in a darkened back alley of Canto Bight, chest heaving after escaping from a mob of angry gamblers.  Her gift with the Force allowed her to cheat her way through a game, winning her a substantial amount of money.  Giddy, and moderately tipsy from the free drinks, she shoved credits into the pockets of her long, satin dress, fingers brushing against the lightsaber strapped to her leg.  As the young woman navigated her way through the slimy underbelly of the city, blaster shots rang out: her keen senses knew it was only a couple of blocks away, and she stealthily navigated towards the sound.  The moment she turned the corner, her heart lurched.  Momentary flashes of silver were illuminated in the firefight, and she could see all of the shots were trained on one individual.  “I always have to root for the underdog, don’t I,” she whispered under her breath, hiking the skirt of her dress up to remove her lightsaber.  With a running start, and a drunken stumble, (Y/n) activated her lightsaber, illuminating the alley in a sunset gold hue, and sized up no less than 8 people nearly surrounding the figure. Slashing through the one that stood directly between her and the figure under attack, she turned, pressing her back towards the cold feeling of what she quickly recognized as beskar. “Who…” the voice called to her, before she quickly cut him off. “We can discuss formalities later, Mandalorian. For now, I’ve got you.”  Another round of shots flew directly towards the pair, and she deflected them with ease with the saber. For a moment, the Mandalorian paused and watched the woman in the long dress, admiring the way she fought:  she clearly had training, but there was a chaotic element, something unrefined, about the way she took out her enemies. Singlehandedly, the woman took out all but one of them, with the Mandalorian vaporizing the assailant in one swift motion. She sheathed her lightsaber, hiking up her now filthy dress to replace it in its holster.  A cocky grin plastered her face, as she reached out towards him. “I’m (Y/n). I’d love to chat more, but seeing as how you’ve clearly made some enemies, we should probably get this show on the road.  You got a ship?” The helmet tipped forward, a subtle nod of affirmation.  The motion would be the only invitation the woman would receive from him.  The Mandalorian turned mumbling quietly to himself about the woman’s apparent mental state, a deathwish, and she followed.

“Definitely closer to six.” The woman hummed, propping her feet on the side of his captain’s chair, wiggling her bare toes.  “I’m getting a little….antsy.” “Antsy? About what?” His voice held no indication of what he was feeling.  Fear, perhaps? The Mandalorian knew the day would probably come that his traveling companion would grow weary and branch off on her own, leaving him and the Child for good.  He could never tell her how badly he wanted her to stay.  She had become his best friend, his closest confidante, and a mother figure to the child.   “You know….Like maybe we could make a stop for a couple of days.  Like a vacation or something. Take the kid and visit Cara or something.”  It wasn’t completely lost on her that he exhaled a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.  “I don’t know, Din. I feel like I’ve been staring at the inside of this ship forever.  I want to see a sunset, put my feet on solid ground.”  She frowned when he didn’t immediately respond.  The captain’s chair swiveled back to its original position. “Diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiin,” her whine drawled, awakening a slew of butterflies in his stomach. “I’ll see what I can do.” He answered succinctly.

The sound of the docking ramp woke her from a peaceful slumber.  Stumbling from her cot, she slipped on a loose, knee length dress and boots, scrambling to see where the Mandalorian had taken her.  The hulking figure stood poised at the edge of the ramp, cradling the small bundle. “Navarro? This really your idea of a vacation?” She glided to his side.  The child cooed at the sight of her, making grabby hands in her direction. Din slid the child into her arms, silently admiring the care with which she held him. She is the perfect dichotomy of deadly and nurturing, he thought to himself as he continued peering down at her out of the corner of his visor. “No, quick pit stop,” he placed his hand behind her elbow, guiding her off the ship, towards the center of the city. The small gesture of physical contact caused a flame in her cheeks, as she quickly adjusted the baby to sit on the swell of her hip. “CARA,” (Y/n) screeched, passing the child to Din to fully engulf her dear friend in a tight embrace.  “It’s been so long!”  Din joined the pair, and the child gurgled and cooed excitedly. Cara reached down and stroked the child’s long green ear. “Hello there, little one! What do you think about staying with Aunt Cara for a few days while your mom and dad go have some fun?”  She peered pointedly at the Mandalorian, knowing full well that he was blushing under his helmet at the implication of their partnership.  (Y/n) glanced quickly at Din, mouth fully agape, then back to Cara. “We couldn’t possibly inconvenience you like that!” she protested, “I mean, this guy is getting to be quite a handful, with his….thing. You know. *the Force*” she mouthed silently, knowing that Force users are generally unfavored, sought after by Imps.  Cara found purchase under the child’s arms and pulled him gently away from (Y/n). “Look, if I can handle all the weird shit his mom does, I can handle whatever he can do.  You two haven’t had any time to yourself in years now. Stay the night here tonight, we’ll catch up, and you can get an early start in the morning after a night of good sleep and a full belly!”

(Y/n) was one of the few women Cara knew that could drink her under the table.  Cara narrowed her eyes as the woman giggled, leaning into the shoulder of the heavily armored man.  Through heavy wheezing and laughter, she continued her story. “You should have seen the look on Din’s face when I sabered the guy clear through the chest right before the guy pulled the trigger on him.  I have saved your ass SO many times.”  Cara doubled over in laughter. “Really? ‘The look on his face’??”  She tipped the flagon of alcohol towards her mouth, spewing a bit in her fit of laughter. “So you’re telling me you’ve seen his face?”  (Y/n) bristled a bit at the comment. “Well, no, of course not.  But I know what he’s thinking sometimes, I can feel it. So I can….imagine, I guess?”  She peered up at him with big, glossy eyes. “Right, right. So is that part of the ‘Force’, or the fact that you two are clearly hopelessly in love with each other?” (Y/n) shot her gaze towards Cara, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion, mind reeling.  Would that really be that far beyond the realm of possibility?  She knew she would be lying if she tried to deny it, instead opting to lean forward, away from Din, and grab her drink off the table.  Certainly, their relationship held a peculiar degree of intimacy: what some would consider a simple gesture, such as revealing their real name, was a huge step in her friendship with the Mandalorian. They sat in the hull of the ship in silence after acquiring a particularly difficult asset, the pair both bleeding from fresh injuries. Through heavy, altered breaths, he finally spoke. “You really don’t have to stick around. Bounty hunting is a dangerous business.” Thuds of beskar hitting the cold floor punctuated his sentences, as he peered over at the woman through his visor. She had hastily stripped out of her minimal armor, revealing a startling amount of bruised and bloodied flesh underneath, a large gaping wound staining red the pale flesh of her upper arm. The Mandalorian quickly averted his gaze down to his own wounds, barely visible through the cloth of his underclothes. “I’m not made of glass, Mando.  I was one night away from becoming a Jedi Master…you know. Before I ran.” A hiss escaped her lips as she staunched the bleeding from a deep vibroblade cut.  His curiosity was piqued. “Seems like a lot of effort to go through just to run off at the last second.”  He slid a medkit across the floor over to her, as she busied herself with the next most severe wound. “Do you know anything about what it means to become a Jedi, Mando?” she asked, no hostility in her voice. “Hm. I imagine it’s similar to my Creed.” Bacta spray coated his split knuckles, his gloves discarded to his side. “Well.  Because of my…skills…I was taken away from my family as a child. Told to surrender my entire past, my entire self.  And for what?  To come of age and be told I can never get married or have a family, can never pursue anything that would fulfill me. I couldn’t have anything.  So the night before I swore my oath, I took my lightsaber and ran.  I didn’t stop running for what felt like an eternity.  Hopping from planet to planet, swindling, fighting, killing if I absolutely had to.”  Her wounds tended to, she laid back on the cold floor of the Razor Crest.  She exhaled. “Honestly, it’s for the best. I’m having too much fun now. And now, all of my choices are my own.” Turning her head to peer at him.  “What about you? What’s your story?” “My uh…parents. Got killed.  I became the Mandalorians’ foundling.  They raised me, and I adopted their Creed as mine.  I owe them everything.  It’s why I kept the Child as my own.”  Suddenly, she reached across the space between them, taking his bare hand in her own.  He was taken aback at first:  this marked the first non-violent physical contact he had had with anyone in a long time, especially skin to skin.  It felt foreign, but something else. Pleasant.   “Mando….I’m so sorry.”  He laced his fingers through hers, earning a quiet gasp. “Din…Din Djarin.”  His voice through the modulator was breathy, as if the words escaped from him on their own volition.  She quickly rolled onto her side and pulled her hand away, much to his chagrin.  More confidently, he spoke again. “I would like for you to call me Din.”  In one swift motion, he reached towards her, initiating the contact again.

“Oh my gods, (Y/n), are you EMBARASSED?” Cara continued laughing, sloshing her drink.  “Your eyebrows are about to disappear into your hairline.” She stumbled to her feet. “I’m going to go check on the baby.”  She navigated through Cara’s small lodging towards the room that held the child’s crib.

“Really, Din? REALLY? You haven’t told her yet?” Cara leaned forward, chastising him.  His helmet tilted slightly as he stretched his arms across the back length of the seat. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cara.” “So you’re telling me. That you’ve been traveling together for five-“ “Six,” he interrupted. “SIX years, and you haven’t told her that you love her?” He cleared his throat beneath his helmet. “She is the bravest warrior I know. I show her that I appreciate her service every day. That’s why I’m taking her on a vacation.  She fights beside me well, and cares for the child as if he’s her own.”  Shifting his weight, he glanced down the hallway she had gone down. “Din Djarin, you are staring down that hallway waiting for her to come back. You love her.” “She left the Jedi order so she could have some sense of normalcy.  Marriage. A family. I cannot give that to her.” He husked angrily.  Cara paused, blinking at him for a moment. “But you already did. Do you think it’s normal for two people to gallivant around the galaxy together, raising an adopted child together?  Honestly, when you told me you were coming to visit, Greef and I made a bet:  he said you two would already be married by the time you got here.  I said you would announce it when you arrived.” “It is not the Way,” he replied simply. “I happen to know that Mandalorians can get married.  The Armorer loaned me some books on the Creed. Maybe you should go talk to her.” “She still here in Navarro?” His interest was piqued. “Yeah, maybe you should go see her before you guys head out.” She stood, stretching her arms above her head. “And on that note, I’m going to bed.”

Din crept down the hallway towards the room with the crib, noting the door was slightly ajar. Peeking inside, he saw the child nestled against (Y/n), both fast asleep.  Sighing heavily, he exited the building, in search of the Armorer.

The new covert wasn’t far from the old one.  A handful of Mandalorians in their armor spread out in the comfortable common area, a handful of children toddling about.  He couldn’t contain the swell of pride in his chest, seeing how the tribe was starting anew, with a fresh generation of foundlings. “Ah, Din.  It’s been a long time.” A voice called from behind him. He turned, regarding her warmly. “How is the child? Where is the foundling?” “He’s with his moth-…Uh, with my traveling companion.”  He barely caught himself. “Ah, a companion? The woman from the siege of Nevarro?”  Her voice lilted in what could only be described as amusement, his near slip up wholly noticed. “Yes,” he replied in short. “A failed Jedi Master.” “A dar’jetti. Interesting. She understands the Force, then. Did you choose her companionship for her to teach the Foundling?”  She busies herself with a gauntlet from the forge, not looking in his direction. His shoulders slumped, “She put her life on the line for me. She fiercely protected the child and I. More than once. First time on Canto Bight.” “How long ago was that?” Placing the gauntlet on the armory shelf, she turned, as if to urge the truth out of him. “Six years,” his voice was nearly a whisper. “So you have been traveling together for six years.  Has she seen you without your helmet?  Have you made her your riduur?”  Tilting her helmet inquisitively.   “You are raising a foundling together. It is a practical decision; we can extend the protection of the Covert to her. Aliit ori’shya tal’din.” He struggled for words, finally resigning to silently hooking his thumbs into his utility belt, shaking his head ‘no’. The Armorer walked over to him, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. “If you take her has your riduur it is still within the Resol’nare. To remove your helmet in front of your family...It is the Way.  It is right, and just, a clan of three.”  With that, he turned on his heels without a word, finding his way back to Cara’s homestead.

Din arguably never slept. Between the Child, piloting duties, and watching over (Y/n), he had learned to rely on as little rest as possible. It was no surprise when Cara rose that morning that the Mandalorian was comfortably reclining in the common space. “Morning, Mando! You find the Armorer?” she plopped down on a tufted cushion beside him. “Mhm” he answered flatly.  A silence hung thick over the air, as if Cara was waiting for something more. “I’m taking her to Canto Bight. Called in a couple of favors.”  She clapped her gloved hands together. “You’re taking her to the place you first met because you’re going to ask her to marry you. I KNEW it.” “Keep your voice down,” he husked. “I need you to take some of these credits from the last bounty, go with her to buy some clothing before we leave.” The creaking of a door startled the pair. (Y/n) dragged into the room, the Child toddling behind her.  “Good morning, Cara, Din.”  She stretched, and Din regarded her clothing.  Her shoulder was exposed from the loose linen top she wore, her black jodhpurs torn and frayed from numerous falls.  Since joining him, her style had become simple and practical, but all he could think about was the long dress she wore when they first met. “Um, good morning.”  Din stood awkwardly.  “Cara is going to take you shopping before we head out.  Is that alright with you?” (Y/n) leaned down and picked up the Child, eyeing Din suspiciously.  Glancing over at Cara who by now had a shit eating grin plastered across her face, she nodded slowly. “Sure, that sounds like it could be fun.” “I will take care of the baby until you two get back, cyar’ika.”  The Mandalorian closed distance and collected the child from her.  Before she could react, he leaned his helmet down, pressing it gently to her forehead.  “I will see you soon.”

The two women meandered towards the market, (Y/n)’s face still flushed. “You know what that was, right?”  Cara asked when they were out of earshot of her dwelling. “That was like, the equivalent of kissing by Mandalorian standard.” She dragged her hands down her face, “I KNOW what it was, Cara.  I just don’t know WHY. What the HELL was that?! Was that MANDO’A? WHAT DOES CYAR’IKA MEAN?”  He had only ever spoken to her in his native tongue once before, and the low growl of his words always sent a fire straight to the flesh of her neck and face.

Everything had gone to hell in a handbasket.  They were cornered, bruised, and broken, under heavy fire from just beyond the cantina doors.  A booming voice had just called the Mandalorian by his name, and the woman clutched her saber so tightly that the skin of her palms began to crack.  Despite the debris from the ammunition and explosions digging into her knees from where she crouched behind the bar, his name being revealed to everyone wounded her somewhere deep behind her ribcage. Something sacred that he had gifted to her out of trust and mutual respect, shouted with indifference to the seemingly infinite number of troops as they pinned the group down.  

The rag-tag group desperately clamored for some promise of an exit, a path to safety.  The medical droid turned child protector had uncovered a small opening that could potentially lead the group to safety, but there wasn’t much time.  Cara, Karga, and IG-11 crouched towards the small opening and began moving forward. (Y/n) scrambled towards the hole, turning to make sure Din was close behind, only to see him collapsed on the ground, unmoving.  She scrambled over to him, tapping the side of his helmet. “Din! DIN? You have to get up, we have to go NOW.”  As she slid her hand behind him to try to assist getting him up, she found that he was covered in something dark and slick.  Blood, and lots of it, was seeping from a wound that was concealed by his helmet.

His breath came through the vocorder in slow pants. “(Y/n) I’m not going to make it. You take this, take the child, and get to safety.”  He pressed a necklace with the emblem of a Mythosaur into her palm, then reached up to press his gloved hand to her cheek. “The covert. They’ll know…..know I sent you.”

Years of Jedi training had taught her about stoicism.  It had taught her about loss, and death, but nothing had prepared her to say goodbye to the Mandalorian.  Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, as she violently shook her head in protest. “No, Din.  I’m not leaving you.  I will slaughter every Storm Trooper that comes through this door.  I will slay Moff Gideon myself and watch the light leave his eyes. I swear this to you.”  She looped the necklace around her neck, and slowly stood up, flicking her golden lightsaber and taking a fighting stance.

“Cuyir gar gett’se?!”  The Mandalorian wheezed through his vocoder, struggling to catch his breath. “Don’t do this, the child needs you, you’re his mot-.”  He stopped speaking abruptly, and she screamed for IG-11 to assist he Mandalorian.

Several Storm Troopers pressed their way inside, and the only thing she could focus on was holding them off for long enough for IG-11 to get Din to safety.  As they fell one by one, a much larger Storm Trooper entered with a flamethrower and began spraying his flames towards her.  Her palm pressed forward, as she used everything in the Force to keep the flames at bay.  Her strength began to falter, as she peered down to her side.  The child had waddled up beside her, and she quietly pleaded for him to get back. “Baby, please. Please, you’re going to get hurt. You’ve got to go back.”  He raised his tiny three fingered hand and mirrored her position, and the flames began quickly receding.  They soon engulfed the Trooper, and she clamored to scoop the now unconscious baby from the ground, running past IG-11 and the body of the Mandalorian. Cara chuckled to herself, “So now that it’s just the two of us, be honest. You’ve got it bad for him, don’t you?” “No shit, Cara. You can only be stuck with someone on a floating chunk of metal for so long before you start to think they look pretty appealing,” she rolled her eyes. “How long?” Cara guided her into a vendor stall, lined with dresses and garments.  (Y/n) traced her fingers absentmindedly over the lush fabrics, deep in thought. “Uh, remember the story when he was getting jumped by the eight dudes in Canto Bight?”  She picked up a long black dress with an open back. “….You mean the night you met? Are you insane?” Cara looked at her incredulously. “You’ve kept your shit together for six years, without even giving him a hint that you were feeling something?” Her skin flushed. “NO. I was just gonna say this dress is very similar to what I wore that night. GEEZ, Cara, I didn’t even know him yet.”  Cara huffed in frustration. (Y/n) draped the dress over her arm, and placed her hand on Cara’s shoulder. “I can’t describe it. Let me just….show you, okay?”

It all came at once as a flood: everything was suddenly warm, like the heat of the sun on a perfect day, or the way spotchka burned just a little on the way down.  It was a small, smoldering pile of cinders, giving way to an unquenchable blaze.  The feeling of being surrounded by cool, blue water, and a fearless feeling of sinking all the way to the bottom of the sea. The undeniable sensation of falling from some high distance, unsure of when you’ll reach the bottom.

Cara’s eyes opened. “Damn, (Y/n) could you warn me before putting me through the ringer? I didn’t know that was a thing you could do.”  (Y/n) turned towards the dark dress, and shrugged her shoulders. “This is the one.” She gestured to this shopkeep, shoving a handful of credits into their hands. “Let’s get out of here. I need a vacation.”

The Razor Crest docked in Canto Bight, and (Y/n) could barely contain her excitement, a stark contrast to the man behind the beskar.   “if you would like to get dressed, I’m going to run an errand. Will you be ready in half an hour?”

(Y/n) peered at herself in the small mirror as she dabbed a deep rouge color to her lips.  The dress glided behind her as she strode towards the weapons cabinet and pulled out her lightsaber, still in pristine condition.  The high slit of the dress allowed her easy access to strap the weapon to her leg.  The loud hissing of the ramp to the Razor Crest alerted her to Din’s arrival, and she stood expectantly awaiting the moment he got to lay eyes on her.  

The man in the shiny beskar paused in front of her, his helmet tilting downward to take her all in. “You look….” He paused, seemingly choking, noticing the Mythosaur necklace he had given her during the siege situated on her chest. “Really nice, (Y/n).”

She smirked, enjoying how flustered he seemed to be.  “You look pretty nice yourself, Din.  Did you shine your beskar up just for me?”  He quickly nodded.

“I uh….wanted to look as nice as I could for this.  Are you ready to depart?” He gestured towards a speeder at the bottom of the ramp.  “I got a speeder with a sidecar so you wouldn’t have to…um….straddle it in a dress.”  She broke into a giggle, which swelled into a belly laugh.

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you. I really can’t believe you pulled all this together for me. Thank you so much.” “Don’t thank me until you see the rest. There’s a lot more to see tonight.” He held out his arm, chivalrously as they walked towards the speeder.  “Do you trust me?”  She thought for a moment. “Well, that depends.  Are you making this nice for me so it’s an easy let down? You’re dumping me back off here or something?”

He scoffed. “No, never. I’m not sure what I would do without you.”  The sincerity in his voice caused her to falter a bit. He regained his stoic composure quickly. “Keep your eyes closed, I’ll tell you when to open them.” The speeder ride felt painfully long, and a bit disorienting.  She had absolutely no concept of space, nor any idea where he might be taking her. The whirring of the speeder engine slowed to a halt, and she could vaguely make out the sounds of waves crashing somewhere nearby.  The Mandalorian disembarked, and strode around to gently lift her from her seat.  

“Okay, you can open your eyes now.”  His voice through the vocorder gravelly beside her ear.

The woman wasn’t prepared for what sight was in front of her.  A large dock surrounded by blue ocean stretched out before them, leading towards a large yacht.  The sky was beginning to display a twinge of orange and pink, reflecting off of the gently rolling waves.  (Y/n) looked over at the Mandalorian, speechless for the first time since they had met.  “Din, this is really too much.  It must have cost a fortune in credits to get this boat.  And if I recall correctly, you HATE the water.”

He shook his head.  “I had a few favors to call in from some associates here.  This is yours to enjoy while we’re here.”  She jumped up and down gleefully, and began running towards the boat.  It never ceased to amaze him her ability to run in high heeled shoes.  

The pair embarked on the yacht, and she watched puzzled as Din entered coordinates into the GPS system. The boat began moving towards some undisclosed location, and she ran towards the front of the boat.  She perched herself against the railing, staring down as the waves passed quickly as the boat sped along.  Innumerable fish passed by, many species she had never seen before.  Din stood back and watched her, arms crossed, an immense amount of hidden enjoyment spreading across his features.  The young woman quickly turned back towards him. “So where are we even heading? I saw you input some coordinates.”  She kicked off her shoes to the side unceremoniously, enjoying the freedom to move about.

“I know a spot.”  He answered plainly.

“Hmmmm, a place where you dump the bodies?” She chided, eyeing him suspiciously.

“No. Just a place I thought you might like to see. I don’t imagine you got to enjoy many spots in Canto Bight during your time here.”  She thought for a moment.

“You’re right.  Most of the time I was just ducking out in alleyways.  I think I only even got to see the coastline twice during the time I was here.  And never like this.”   The setting sun caused her to squint her eyes a bit as she peered out, and the Mandalorian took that time to really take her in:  she was truly beautiful, all pointed features and sharp angles.  He very seldom had the luxury to see her this way, without lines of worry across her forehead, or thinking deeply about how they were going to capture the next quarry. She consistently held a brave face for him and the child, so much that it was often easy to forget that she was a living being.  For a moment he tried to imagine her other life, one where she was a hardened Jedi master: fierce and unrelenting, but also quiet and solitary.  He thought, that life would have never suited her, she was like a wildfire, wild and unquenchable.  Her smile when she held the child, or the attitude she so quickly gave the Mandalorian when he agitated her.  No, she felt far too much to be confined by the life of a Jedi.  She looked back over to him, smiling.

“You know, sometimes I actually can feel what you’re thinking.  You try to keep your thoughts quiet, but sometimes you’re so loud in there.” She shook her head, almost embarrassed. “You’re right, though.  That was never the life for me.  I’m a little bit too erratic for the discipline they expected from me.”  He moved towards her, placing his hand tentatively on her shoulder.

“There’s nothing shameful about that. You’re impulsive at times, wild even. But you know, sometimes I’m not sure this is the life I want to live either.”  She gazed at his hand for a moment, before turning her attention to the T shaped visor, confused at his confession.  He continued, “There are many days when I think maybe it’s time to take off the armor, to give all of this up. Maybe settle down with the kid somewhere and try to have some normalcy.”

“Din, where is this coming from?  The Creed is your entire life….”  The boat sputtered to a halt, and he gently guided her to turn back around:  all that could be seen around them was a beautiful sunset undisturbed and untouched by the Canto Bight skyline. Her mouth hung open in shock.  “Din, I’ve never seen anything like this before.  Every planet I’ve seen, in all my travels. Nothing this beautiful.”

“Neither have I.”  He spoke softly, and she smiled back towards him. She immediately noticed his visor didn’t face the sunset, he was looking down at her.  “(Y/n), I want you to do something for me.”  He clasped both her hands in his, shocking her at his blatant display of affection.

“After you put all of this together for me? I’ll do literally anything you ask of me.” She winked at him.

He slowly lifted her hands to the edge of the beskar helmet on his head, exhaling shakily.  Her fingers traced the cool metal that shielded his face from the world, as he let go of her hands.  She felt herself starting to tremble at the immense amount of trust her placed in her, allowing her to touch his helmet.  His hands now found purchase at her waist, another action so intimate she felt her heart swell.

“I want—I want you to take it off.” His voice was uneven and gentle, as though he couldn’t believe the words had slipped out to her so easily.

“Din, NO,” she quickly removed her hands and tried to pull herself from his grasp.  “Your Creed. I can’t see you without it. Why the kriff would you want to give that up now, after all this time?”  His grasp on her waist didn’t falter, instead pulling her in closer to him.  She slapped her hands on his cuirass, agitated.  “I won’t let you throw away your entire life for me.”  

“I don’t have to ‘throw away’ anything for you, cya’rika.  All these years you’ve traveled with me…You’ve followed me to the ends of the earth to protect the child…OUR child.  You have never betrayed my trust, despite your absolute ruthless nature.  I want to give this to you.”

Tears began welling up in her eyes. “You can’t, Din. As much as I wish I could say yes, we can’t.  I know what it means to throw away everything you worked for, but I made that choice.  Your Creed is everything to you.”

“I don’t have to give up my Creed to show you my face…”  He spoke barely above a whisper.  “We’re a clan of three. Aliit ori’shya tal’din: Family is more than blood.”  He echoed the phrase the Armorer had told him.

“I’m familiar with Mandalorian customs, Din: You can remove your helmet in front of your child.” She grew increasingly more agitated and anxious.

“Or…my riduur.”  She shifted her weight nervously.  

“Din, I’m familiar with customs, not the language.  I don’t even know what that means.”

His hands moved to grasp hers again, placing them on his helmet with more conviction.  “Wife.  It means, my wife.” “Are you….are you asking me to…?”  He nodded.  “You’re not just messing with me right now?”  He shook his head in response, and she began a combination of laughing and crying all at the same time.

“So will you do it?” He whispered softly, and she squeezed her eyes shut tightly as she lifted the helmet.  A quiet hiss echoed around them, as the sun began to dip just beyond the horizon.  Din took the helmet from her, and placed it to the side.  “Open your eyes, (Y/n).”

She slowly opened her eyes to the man before her.  The rays from the finally setting sun settled upon his golden tan skin, framed by loose brown curls.  Her hands shot up to her mouth in shock.  “Din, you’re…..hot? Like, I knew you had swagger, but you’re….you’re a vision.”  He looked at her shyly, and began to laugh. “Stars, and your smile? I can’t believe you never told me how beautiful you were underneath that tin can.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist, and leaned towards her so dangerously close that their lips were almost touching. “I mean, I figured all this time you thought I looked like the child.”  She reached up to touch his face with nothing but reverence and adoration.

“You could have been a Mon Calamari under there and I would love you…” She paused, her cheeks flushed with her confession.  His gloved hand cupped the side of her face, and she leaned into him, never breaking eye contact.  “I love you, (Y/n).” She released his face and threw her arms around his still armor-clad shoulders, pressing into a tentative kiss.

“I will marry you, Din. Under one condition.” She murmured, lips still hovering close to his.

“Anything you want, cyar’ika.”

“You gotta start teaching me Mando’a.”  She felt his chest move, as laughter began bubbling up from deep within him. “Hey, it’s not funny! You keep slipping in words and phrases and I’ve been in the dark this whole time!”

He brushed his lips against her forehead. “Okay, anything you want to know.”

“When we were on Nevarro, and you were….um…dying.  You said something. What was it?”  He pulled back and thought about it for a moment.

“I’m pretty sure I told you that you were nuts.”  Her fist connected with his shoulder. “OW, what was that for?”

“All this time, I’ve been sitting here, thinking that you were professing your love with your dying breath. And you were just telling me that I was CRAZY?”  

He gently thumbed over the necklace he had given her. “In a way, I was. Gar cuyir gett’se. You’re the bravest, most fearless, insane woman I have ever met. Cyar’ika, my beloved.”  

The pair had spent their travel time back to Nevarro, with Din patiently teaching her phrases of Mando’a, particularly phrases for their wedding vows.  They had made the decision to have the ceremony performed on Nevarro, with the child, Cara, Greef Karga and the Armorer present, even though Mandalorian weddings were a simple exchanging of words.  As they approached the docking bay, (Y/n) seemed to vibrate with excitement.  The hatch opened, and the pair could see Cara laughing with the baby settled on her hip, and Greef Karga gesticulating animatedly.  

(Y/n) practically skipped off towards the group, Din following slowly behind.  He was still tentative; he didn’t know what to expect with their news. As (Y/n) approached, the baby wiggled and writhed away from Cara, and she plopped him down watching him waddle over and clasp onto (Y/n)’s leg.

Cara eyed the pair carefully, cutting between the two of them. “Something’s different, isn’t it? You’ve got an awful lot of spring in your step to just have some vacation afterglow.”  (Y/n) turned, smiling at the Mandalorian.

He nervously cleared his throat, and moved to stand by her side, dwarfing her in his height.  “I have asked (Y/n) to be my riduur.”

She proudly bounced on the heels of her feet. “Wife.  That means wife, everyone. He’s been teaching me Mando’a on the trip back.”  Everyone gaped at the pair, the baby cooing and sputtering excitedly.  “What’s everyone staring at?”  For a brief moment, seemingly suspended in time, everyone was too shocked to speak. Greef Karga broke the silence by stepping forward and clapping the Mandalorian on his pauldron covered shoulder.

“I knew you had it in you, Mando.  I’m glad you’re keeping her around. She’s always been crazy enough to get things done.” He shot a quick wink over to the woman, who beamed up at the expressionless helmet.

“She certainly is, which is why she wants to go ahead and do it today.”  As if the baby knew what Mando was saying, he began cooing and gurgling excitedly.  He reached down and stroked the child’s slightly furry head.  “We would like all of you to attend as our witnesses.  Mandalorian wedding vows are a simple exchanging of words, but we would like for all of you to be a part of it.”

Later in the day, as the blazing sun hung above the city, the group found themselves in the Mandalorian covert.  The Armorer greeted the group warmly and led them to a common space with comfortable seating.  Din and (Y/n) stood before them, hand in hand, as they began to recite the vows he had taught her on the flight back to Nevarro.

“Mhi solus tome.  Mhi solus dhar’tome. Mhi me’dinui an.  Mhi ba’juri verde.”  Din clasped his gloves hands on her cheeks, pulling her towards him.  Gently, he pressed the forehead of his helmet to her, and she beamed back at him.

“So that’s it? You’re married now?”  Karga slapped his hands to his knees.  The Armorer nodded.

“Yes.  Mandalorian custom dictates a simple exchange of words as a binding marital contact.  This is the Way.”

(Y/n) strode towards Cara, collecting the baby.  “Well that’s it little guy, I guess I’m officially your mom now.”

The Armorer nodded her head in agreement.  “A clan of three.  Go forth and raise warriors.”  (Y/n) chuckled.

“I think warrior, singular, is about all we can handle right now.  I think our little clan is finally complete.”  She gazed at his visor adoringly.  “Now, we better get back to work.  I blew a bunch of our credits at the casino on Canto Bight. Karga, got any pucks for us?”  The group stared at her incredulously, as Din wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“I told ner cyar’ika no using the Force to cheat.  We didn’t need their security ruining her vacation.”  She shrugged under his weight.

Karga grumbled. “Nuttiest bounty hunters in the entire Guild.  I swear, they were made for each other.”

When he saw you cooking an egg on the burner, he felt a little tug pull on his heart strings. He wondered what it would be like to watch you do that every morning.  Every morning with clean clothes and a grand kitchen to cook in, with piles and piles of all the food you made. The bounty hunter shook his head as he cleared his mind of those thoughts.

When you heard his footsteps you turned towards the Mandalorian with a big grin plastered on your face. "Rise and shine, sleeping beauty. I think you may have slept in more than you meant to."

He paused for a moment, thinking. "Why, what time is it?" he replied in a small, monotone voice.

"11:30."

Silence. "What." He hadn't slept that late since... oh god, he can't remember.

You giggled. "Yup, 11:30. Don't you worry, I only have to work at the bar today and that starts at 4. Even so, I would have waited till you woke up."

Silence once more. "Thank you."

You grinned again. "Of course. I've got some more food here for you. I'm sorry it's not much, but it should last you at least till lunch." You placed the food in front of the Mandalorian. "I have to go feed Grandma, and I will be in there until you say it's okay. You're more than welcome to eat in my room if that makes you more comfortable."

You turned around and walked down the hall with a bowl in one hand and a glass of water in the other.

"Thank you." You stopped and turned around. 

"Of course. Now eat your food."

The Mandalorian did as he was told. He went into your room, shut the curtain, sat on the bed and looked down at what you gave him: the egg you had just cooked, scrambled. An apple that looked like the freshest apple he had ever seen. 3 grapes that looked crisp, yet juicy. A sausage that looked to be cooked just right. And a piece of bread with butter on it.

Oh my god. The Mandalorian couldn't even begin to imagine how much this cost you, and how much extra you were going to have to work to pay it off. It wasn't even a lot of food, but on this planet? God, this would be equivalent to about 100 credits on Corellia. He couldn't eat this, plus, he could go out and buy his own food later. Maybe he could find a way to hide it here for you.

"You better be eating that food, Lumpy!" you shouted from the other room. How did you know?

He sighed and took off his helmet. He placed it right beside him and slowly started eating the food. He had to give it to you... it was delicious. For not eating many eggs and sausages in your life, you sure were good at cooking them. 

Then he remembered that you probably cooked plenty in the restaurant you serve in as well.

He finished up the food quickly and put his helmet back on. As much as he really wanted to stay here with you, he had to go deliver his bounty before someone heard him wake up in his speeder. 

He stepped out of the room and placed his plate on the table. He then walked down the hallway towards your Grandma's room, where he opened the curtain to see you feeding her the last of the oatmeal you made.

You must have felt the Mandalorian's stare because you didn't even turn to look at him as you asked, "All done?"

He nodded. "Yes."

You smiled and replied, "Good. I'll pack you a water bottle for your journey."

"That's really not necessary-"

You walked up to him and placed a finger on the part of the mask where his mouth would be, silencing his words. "You saved me, in more ways than you realize. Let me do this for you as my thanks."

The Mandalorian nodded slowly, which caused you to smile. "Thank you."

"No, Lumpy. Thank you."

The bounty hunter watched with masked amusement as you scrambled around the house looking for everything you needed. You walked around the kitchen and placed every last bit of food you had on top of a clean cloth you found in your room. You filled up a pouch with water, then went to go find a string in your room. When you came back to the kitchen you went to the cloth with food on the table and tied it up.

"Oh, I think Grandma wanted a word with you. I'm not sure what she wants but you don't have to go, or if you want me to go with you I can-"

You were cut off by the bounty hunter walking down the hallway towards your Grandma's room. He smiled under his mask as he heard you breathe out, "Yeah, gotta fix the rambling," and go back into the kitchen to do something.

When the Mandalorian walked into your Grandma's room, he went and sat in the chair beside her bed. She seemed to have noticed because she opened her eyes and gave a weak, sad smile.

"You wanted to see me."

Your Grandma nodded. "Yes."

After a few minutes of silence, (it seemed like your Grandma was trying to come up with the correct words), she spoke up.

"Y/N has not had a good experience here. And it breaks my heart every time I see that sweet, smart girl walk in the room with the most beautiful smile on her face because I know the only reason she's here, is for me."

She yawned, then continued, "I want you to protect her."

The Mandalorian furrowed his eyebrows beneath his mask. "Who, Y/N? From what?"

Your Grandma smiled again. "You'll know."

And she fell asleep.

Realizing that the conversation was indeed over (if you can even call that a conversation), the bounty hunter made his way back to the kitchen where he saw you running around like a chicken with it's head cut off.

When you heard him approaching, you quickly gestured him to sit at the table and said, "Stay there, I have one more thing to give you before you go."

You then ran to your room and started searching literally everything. After a few minutes, the Mandalorian heard a "Bingo!", then watched as you made your way back to the kitchen.

"So, I actually have two things for you, and I'm not sure if they go against your code or not because they have sentimental value or... anyway, here's the first one."

You placed a silver chain into the Mandalorian's outstretched palm. The chain was thin, but that wasn't what caught his attention. Oh no, what caught his attention was the piece of metal dangling from the end of it.

The bounty hunter brought it up closer to his face to examine the metal. He read the inscription 'To my everything", and looked up at you.

"It was my Grandma's. My Grandpa gave it to her, and she gave it to me. I wanted to give it to you as my last thank you for your help."

"You really should keep this, I didn't even do much-"

"I also have this for your ship. This was my uncle's, but I've never had a very good use for it. He and his friend had a matching set."

On the table you placed a gold chain with a golden die attached to each end. "I'm hoping it'll bring you good luck with all your travels. My uncle said he and his friend found two of them on Corellia before they escaped, and they headed separate ways. Said it helped his friend do the Kessel Run in... I believe 12 parsecs."

The Mandalorian took both gifts from you and placed them back into your palm. "I'm not taking these."

You raised a brow. "Right," you said as you put them into an empty pocket in his belt. "I'll help you to your speeder."

You both walked out to the speeder. Luckily, for the Mandalorian, his bounty was still knocked out in the storage compartment, probably from the heat.

The bounty hunter climbed on and started up the speeder. You came up beside him, making him look up at you.

"Safe travels, Lumpy. Maybe I'll see you again some other day."

The Mandalorian nodded. Oh, how he hated to leave you. He really wanted to stay. To just hang up his mask for good and be here with you. Or take you some place much nicer where you wouldn't have to live in poverty.

How he wishes he could take you away and free you from this awful place.

But he knows he can't.

"See you around."

You smiled once more. "Bye, Lumpy." And with that, the Mandalorian was off.

-----

The bounty hunter had made it to his ship in roughly 10 minutes, and instantly set to work. The faster he got off this planet, the faster he could start to forget you. If he could start to forget you.

He grabbed his bounty from the storage compartment, brought him onto the ship, tied his arms behind his back and tied his legs together. He then tied his arms and legs to a pole at the back of his ship (in a probably painful way).

He woke up his bounty by throwing cold water on his face, and left whatever was in the bowl in front of the target's face so he could drink the leftovers.

Once he was satisfied the assignment was not going anywhere, as he was too weak and desperate for the water at the moment, the Mandalorian went to his room to quickly take off his chest armour and clip the necklace you gave him, and put the armour back on. He then moved to the cockpit of his ship and sat down.

He took out the dice and hung them from a small hook on the top window frames of his cockpit, and sighed.

As he started up the ship, the bounty hunter heard a very loud noise, and felt his ship start to tremble. He looked up through his windshield and have a horrified gasp. An entire Imperial Star Destroyer was aiming to hover right above your little town.

Now, normally the bounty hunter wouldn't care. As long as he stayed out of their way, they would stay out of his. But, now? You were there. And he knew exactly what was going to happen.

The Stormtroopers were going to attack your home again, and this time you were not far enough away to save yourself.

The Mandalorian didn't even think as he quickly grabbed his weapon, made sure that the bounty was not going anywhere, jumped in his speeder and sped straight to your home.

Your Grandma's words rang through his ears. "Protect her," and, "You'll know."

He didn't know how but she knew that they were coming, and he had to get you out of there. Now.

Speeding up his land speeder to the maximum, he almost made it to the front of your door in time. Almost.

There were explosions coming from many homes. Fire was everywhere, and it didn't do anything to help with the heat of the planet you were on.

The Mandalorian could see your house, and watched as 2 Stormtroopers came out of your home. One of them carrying your Grandma, the other pushing you towards the centre circle where they were gathering everyone from the town.

He was so close, just 60 seconds away.

He could hear you desperately screaming "Please, just don't hurt my Grandma. Do whatever you want with me, just leave her alone." He could see your face was wet with tears from your eyes and blood from your temple where someone hit you in the head.

The Stormtroopers ignored you as they brought you both to the middle. The one carrying your Grandma threw her onto the ground, and the other pushed you so hard you fell face first into the sand. A third one came up and made you both kneel.

The Mandalorian was now only 30 seconds away, and he was furious. He stopped the speeder right before the town's entrance because he didn't want anyone to hear him coming.

The Stormtroopers made a circle around everyone with their guns pointed towards all of the innocent townspeople.

The bounty hunter ran behind the building that was closest to you and your Grandma, and was quickly trying to think of his next move. He could get one of you out for certain. He wasn't so sure about the both of you.

At that moment, your Grandma had caught sight of him and made eye contact with him beneath the mask. When she slowly nodded and gave a sad smile, the Mandalorian knew exactly what she wanted him to do. So that's what he did.

Once he heard the Commander say "Fire on three," the bounty hunter prepared himself.

"One," he waited.

"Two," he started sprinting as silently as he could. He hadn't caught the attention of anyone yet because of all the frightened gasps of the people.

"Three. Fire!"

The Mandalorian quickly jumped in front of your screaming body, covering you as much as he could from the gunshots.

Though he was covering your front, one had managed to get you from behind and hit you in your shoulder. As you whimpered pain, the bounty hunter quickly scooped you up and started running towards his speeder.

"Wait, what about my Grandma? You can't leave her, please, go back!"

You were sobbing, and it broke the Mandalorian's heart for the first time in a long time. But he had to get you out of here. And he had to do it now.

He cradled your bleeding body as close to him as he possibly could to keep as much of you protected, and made a mad dash towards his speeder. Many of the clones had noticed him trying to escape, and were now either firing at him or chasing him.

He jumped on to his speeder and zoomed away, still keeping your body tucked in to his to protect you from any of the blaster fire. Luckily the Stormtroopers have their horrible aim, so the bounty hunter was able to get you to his ship without any more injuries.

After a few minutes the shots being fired at him were ceased because the Mandalorian was much too far away now, but he wasn't taking any chances. He tried to help you get more comfortable in his lap but it was very hard to with your wound.

As soon as he came up to his ship the bounty hunter slowed it down and drove it up the ramp. He then turned it off and very carefully lifted you out of the speeder. You had passed out, but the Mandalorian was not surprised. You had a lot of blood loss, you were in a lot of pain, you just watched your Grandma die, and you had been crying quite a bit. It made the Mandalorian's heart rip into shreds.

He quickly brought you to his room and set you down on your stomach on his bed. He didn't want to leave your side, but he knew he had to for the moment for very obvious reasons.

After looking back at you one last time, the Mandalorian first went to make sure his bounty was still there. He was, and also passed out. Next he went to the cockpit of his ship. He knew if he were to get you out of here alive he had to do it now before the Empire went searching.

The bounty hunter wasn't too worried about being followed though, because in their eyes it was just a poor little girl that escaped, and she can't do them any harm.

He quickly closed the ramp and the bay doors, then started up the ship. After getting off the planet, he immediately went into hyperspace to get to Coruscant. He wanted to get his bounty off the ship ASAP because he did not want the two of you to be in the same room ever again.

After making sure that the autopilot was set, the Mandalorian made his way to his room where you were sleeping. He first made a stop to his little bathroom area and grabbed some cloths, towels, a bowl that he filled with water, and some antibiotics.

He walked into his room with the supplies and knelt on the floor beside you. The bounty hunter also grabbed a small knife that he used to cut the clothes around your burn to make it easier to clean. He would like to change you out of the stinky and dirty clothes you were in now to make you more comfortable, but you had very much respected his privacy back in your home, so it was only right he did the same.

He dipped one of the cloths into the bowl of water and gently started cleaning your wound. You hissed a bit in your sleep, but it seemed that the pain wasn't too bad; which was a good sign. It meant that he could properly clean the blood.

It took him almost half an hour to get the entire wound completely cleaned, but it was worth it. Your face had started to relax, and you seemed to become more peaceful. The Mandalorian studied you for a few minutes; it seemed the longer he looked the more intrigued he became.

He followed the soft wrinkles in your forehead from stress to the bags under your eyes, then down the bridge of your nose to your delicate cheeks and lips. He traced the soft curves of your jawline with his eyes and made his way down your neck. Before he could control himself the Mandalorian found himself gently caressing the exposed and healthy skin on your back.

How he longed to take off the mask and armour so he could touch you with his bare hands, hold you in his arms and never let you go. He had never hated his armour more than he did in that moment.

But he had a feeling that the galaxy still needed him to be a bounty hunter, a Mandalorian, so he quietly applied some healing cream and a bandage on your wound and left you to sleep.

                                                       --

The movements were second nature to you at that point, twirling around the fire with your tambourine high in the air. You savored the heat the flames gave off as it warmed your bare skin. You learned how to dance and play as soon as you learned to walk. It was the way of your people. Dancing was one of the biggest parts of your culture. During the day, your people would hide in the shadows and steal to get by but it was the night when you really came alive. This cantina was just one of the many hotspots, hidden out on the edge of the sand dunes. The locals whispered of the dancing gypsies and hope one day they would be able to see them dance. No one knew where the group would be, the information was kept a secret.

You were one of the most skilled dancers of your people and both the natives as well as travelers could see that. Many nights you could feel the eyes of all sorts of people following the sway of your hips and flick on your wrist. After the show, some would try to give you money while the rare patron gave some type of gift. Those were the people who always seemed to be able to find the show’s location. There were the specific men, and a few women, who would come after the show and offer money in exchange for other services. They were your least favorite clientele. But the male gypsies would scare them away.

This night was the same as your people’s bodies curled together like the flame itself, skilled movements that were too delicate to get near. Some were dancing as couples while others were dancing alone. The more innocent eyes stayed on the couples while those with other purposes trained on those alone. Some would even come up and join the dance as the excitement rubbed off on them. Participation was very much encouraged.

Your own eyes scanned the crowd quickly in curiosity as you danced and fell upon a sight you had never seen before. A real Mandolorian. Not just some scavenger with stolen armor. They were so rare, you doubted anyone in your community had seen one.  You didn’t even know much about the people other than the danger they could bring with them.

                                                       --

The sound of excited yelling and whistles brought the man out of his thoughts, his mind immediately ready for a threat. He was raised on the trigger of a gun and meant he was always on guard even when lost in thought. Those instincts had only gotten stronger with the child now. It was the first time he had something to protect. He no longer only had himself to think about. Yet his dark eyes quickly noted there was no new threat, instead, a tidal wave of color pouring around the fire.

Bright purples, pinks, greens, and blue were illuminated in an ethereal glow from the fire as a group of seven to ten similarly dressed people arrived. It was easy to tell who they were, they were one of the local races. Even without the bright colors, the large pointed ears, not that unlike the child’s, would give them away. Mando hadn’t been to this planet before and didn’t know much about the natives, but he learned what they looked like. All the shops were filled with the same rainbow of colors, scarfs covering faces to reveal only eyes that peered around like a cat. He didn’t trust the gypsy people. He knew what those eyes meant.

Trouble.

Their bodies curled together like the flames itself as they began to dance to the music. Mando had never been much for dancing himself. Training had taken up most of his time and the free time he did have, he wasn’t going to spend it learning how to dance. This dancing wasn’t like the slow dancing he had seen either. The Mandolorian didn’t dance like this. This dancing was filled with chaos and energy, huge grins on each of their sunkissed faces. Where the Mandolorians were strict and straight-laced, these natives were carefree. Too hedonistic in Mando’s mind.  Yet these aversive thoughts seemed to disappear from his mind the moment he saw the person with the blue and green crystal pin in their hair.

He hardly noticed they were even singing due to the blood that seemed to rush to his ears. The pounding was like the kind he would get when he was in an intense battle. There was no danger and yet his mind seemed unaware. What was going on? His body was making no sense to him.

It must have been the way the light hit them in that exact moment. Or perhaps it was the lack of sleep in him. Something had to be wrong with him for a person to leave him breathless. He had seen beauty in his time but this was different. They weren’t the traditional kind of beautiful but there was something transcendental with them. Their pointed ears held gold chains and earrings in them and sparkled when the light hit them in a certain way. Bare feet expertly moved gracefully while making no sound. Delicate but confident. The feet of a thief, not a dancer. Perhaps they really were a thief. They had stolen his attention.

Behind his dark visor, his sharp eyes couldn’t move away from the absolute vision in front of him. Thankfully, no one could tell what he was really looking at. He could just be looking at the fire or just staring off into space. That was all. Everyone would just see the threatening Mandalorian and look away. The Child needed to hurry up and finish eating so they could leave. He wanted to go as fast as possible, his stomach churning at the unknown feeling. He had never felt this interest to know more about a person before.

There was no way this could be true but upon a final spin, the gypsy seemed to be looking right into his soul. His heart skipped a beat, feeling as though he had been caught. They couldn’t know he was watching and yet with the small smile they presented him, he wasn’t so sure. Did they have some strange ability? Their eyes stilled for only a moment yet it felt as though it had been minutes. They easily went back to finishing the song they were singing.  Mando didn’t recover as quickly.

The Child’s large eyes seemed to have found them as well and could sense a shift in the man sitting next to him. He turned to look up at his caretaker, back at the dancing figure, and then settled on Mando again. He turned to the green child and frowned, not even needing to hear anything to know what that look meant.

“Don’t say anything.” He huffed, refusing to admit they had affected him in such a way.

                                                       --

The night went as most do. As time passed, members of your group got drunk and the performance fizzled out. Some found partners to keep them warm for the night but that wasn’t for you. Your mind was focused on something else. The Mandalorian hadn’t left like you had expected. With each passing second, you felt yourself getting pulled closer. Their kind seemed almost like a myth. What type of stories did they know? Since coming to this village when you were thirteen, it was the only place you had called home. There was so much in the universe you hadn’t seen yet. You had never even left this planet.

When the Mandalorian seemed to be paying attention to the creature next to it, you pulled as much confidence from your core as you could before walking over. The gypsies put confidence and affection as some of the most important things in your culture. With the outfits you all wore, confidence was needed. In the day, you wore scarves and clothing that covered your entire body but when the night came, so did the fabric. Women would wear crop tops, some men didn’t even wear shirts. This was the way of your people. Be proud of who you are and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. It was obvious to see as gender norms seemed nonexistent.  

“So, not many Mandalorians come here. Are you lost?” You asked as you slipped into the chair across the table from the two beings. Mando slowly looked over, taking a moment to take in what was happening before speaking.

“No, just a stop.”

You nodded, leaning your elbow on the table and resting your chin in the palm of your hand. The armor shined with the firelight and you wondered what it was made of. It was rare anyone wore armor in these parts. Not because it wasn’t needed but the heat of the sun would cook whatever was inside it during the day. Most people tended to be nocturnal here as it got quite a bit cooler when the moon came out.

Silence blanketed the table as you inspected the person, which you now know due to his voice, and tried to match what was in front of you to the few pictures you had seen.  He was much larger than what you expected and more...shiny. The old scrolls that you had found on your scavenging made them seem much flatter in color. You preferred it this way better.

“So, what are the Mandalorian?” Your question caught him off guard. It had been a long time since he had to explain it to someone before. No one ever asked so bluntly before either.

“If you know not many come here, how come you don’t know about us?”

“Well, I’ve seen art and some had Mandalorians in it. No one here ever knew enough to answer my questions. So, I thought who better to ask than from the source.”

Mando thought over the question, rolling it around in his head. How was he supposed to answer that? There was so much that went into their way, it would be impossible to explain it fully to someone who didn’t even know the basics. He stared in your direction, unsure of what to say.

“We are a skilled group of fighters. Some say we are the best warriors in the galaxy. It is a way of life. Our life.”

Even with the less than detailed explanation, you were satisfied enough for now. Your Păzitor (Guardian)  had warned you that your curiosity would get you killed one day. He cared for you but feared when you left the village to explore the sand dunes. There were dangerous creatures and even worse, dangerous people out there. You had been slipping out for as long as you lived here, there was no way to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. There was so much out there but no one wanted to explore. As you were getting older, the itch to leave was only getting stronger.  

A tugging at your skirt caused you to glance down, meeting the big brown eyes of the kid that had been sitting across the table from you. When had he had the time to get down without either of you noticing. With a small smile, you leaned down and placed the child on your lap. This seemed to please it as it relaxed, leaning back against your chest.

“I’ve never seen anything like this little guy here before. Got to say, I don’t think you look like this under that helmet of yours. So, why is he with you? Is he an orphan?” Your arms lazily wrapped around his smaller form as he cuddled up against you. It must have been past his bedtime, whatever time that was. Every child went to bed early, didn’t they? The gypsy children were the only ones you had seen out so late.

“Something like that.”

“Are you on a job now and that’s why you are just stopping here? Or maybe you’re just a bum in a ship traveling the stars with a little green bean,” You teased, a glint in your eyes as if challenging the man. Before he was able to answer, blaster fire echoed around the strange cantina.

Then the screaming started and chaos began. As soon as the blaster went off, the Mandalorian jumped up and immediately began searching for the threat. Your arms pulled the child closer to you, gathering the multi-colored shaw you used in your show to wrap it around them. The first instinct you had was to hide it. Maybe it would be safer that way and would be left out of the fight.

Something grabbed your wrist and pulled to have you topple into their chest. This caused a small yelp to slip from your lips, bringing Mando’s attention to you immediately. He didn’t see the Child but that didn’t mean you weren’t in danger at that moment. No matter how much people believed him to be bad, he kept doing actions that contradicted their beliefs.

Even without seeing it, you could smell the blaster fire on them. Shit, where was it? Both of his hands were occupied with one grasping your wrist and the other at your hip. There would be bruises there in the morning. As soon as you deduced he wasn’t holding the blaster, you reacted. It was no more than six seconds that passed and just as Mando was about to rush over, you stole his attention again.

A loud grunt and the attacker being pushed back caused Mando to stop in his tracks. He had no clue what had just happened moments ago, you didn’t have an electrostaff in your hands. Yet, here you are, moving to incapacitate the man who decided to mess with you. Even with the force behind your movements, you moved as if this was no more than another dance. Your movements were all calculated and one step ahead of the enemies, your feet hitting the ground with the grace of a ballerina.

Another enemy came in your vicinity and it was then that the Mandalorian noticed there were no sparks at the end of the staff. This was an electrostaff but must have been broken into nothing more of a staff. Yet, where had you gotten it? There was no room on your outfit to even entertain the thought it might have been on your person. It looked as if you had summoned it out of thin air.

With a calculated hit to the temple of the first man, he was down for the count. This left you to turn and fight the other who had his blaster drawn. You reminded yourself to keep calm as he moved to fire. Precision was key and you could hear yourself counting the beats in your head to time it correctly. As his finger squeezed, the staff came down hard on his wrist which caused the shot to only char the sand into small pieces of glass.

Mando hadn’t realized he had been staring until he felt arms wrap around his form to attempt to slice his throat. He was brought back to reality as he easily tossed the man over his body to land with a hard thud on the ground. Before they had a chance to get up, a single blast from the Mandalorian made sure he stayed down. He pushed the thoughts of you aside, knowing that he needed to focus on protecting these people.

Yet, no one had piqued his interest as much as you had and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

Your Electrostaff: https://s3-us-west-2.amazonaws.com/commercehq-userfiles-master/commercehq-store-fb48b69a3b345592c79d2b5daf360f96_da39a3ee5e6b4b0d3255bfef95601890afd80709/b38aabdceec14ea5819e839e5d810ea6_ezgif.com-crop.gif