#nonbinary!din djarin

The bottled up energy from being alone had nowhere to go, crawling up Din’s arms like electric tendrils.

Din nodded at the Armorer. “This is the way.”

“This is the way.” The room echoed.

Din had rarely left the covert since being taken in all those years ago. Life before seemed like a distant dream, the memory distorted as if through thick glass.

With fists clenched, Din walked to gather weapons and supplies for the trip with the rest of the volunteers. It was essential to find their Beroya. Without him, the covert had limited income, leaving everyone on edge.

“The last message was sent from Coruscant.” Rasika advised. “He had finished a job there and had found a lead on the next bounty. We will retrace his steps and go from there.”

Din nodded in understanding, starting towards the ship.

When they arrived in Coruscant, they were each assigned a job. Din was told to go to a local tailor who may have seen their lost Beroya.

Restless, Din nodded, turning to leave.

“Djarin!”

Slowly turning back around, Din met the gaze of Paz Vizla’s helmet.

“Be careful. Don’t get cocky.”

Din scoffed, incredulous before turning and leaving.

Coruscant was nothing like anything Din had ever seen. It was exponentially more populated than what Din remembered of Aq Vetina, Concordia, or any of the planets they had set up coverts on since The Great Purge.

Unaccustomed to navigating the throngs of people, Din focused on finding the tailor’s quickly, finally locating it after only a few turn-arounds.

An older Twi’lek looked up as Din approached the front desk, doing a double take before straightening up.

Snapping his fingers, two more Twi’leks in long dresses appeared by his side.

“Good afternoon!” The first Twi’lek said, courtesy dripping from his tongue. “Please make our guest comfortable.”

As the two other Twi’leks stepped forward, Din held up his hand to stop them.

“I’m here for information.” Din said, hoping the filter of the helmet sounded tough.

The first Twi’lek dismissed the other two immediately, raising his eyebrows.

“I take it you’re here about your friend?”

Din’s hands clenched into fists once again.

“You’ve seen another like me?”

“Of course! Must have been about a month ago now. Just like you actually, wasn’t the chatty type, right down to business.”

“What information did you give my friend?”

“He asked if I’d heard much about a spice runner named Usak.” The tailor continued smoothly, seemingly unbothered by the beskar before him. “I told him I hadn’t as we do not serve spice runners.”

Din turned around, ready to leave in frustration when the tailor added: “But I recommended visiting Lanz Carpo, as I hear it’s a lovely place to relax.”

Din froze before turning slowly back to the tailor.

“I’ve never heard of Lanz Carpo being a place of relaxation.” Din said carefully.

“I think you’d be surprised.” The Twi’lek said with a knowing smirk.

Din nodded slowly before turning towards the door.

“Do take care of yourself.”

The Twi’lek’s words gave Din an uneasy feeling. Had Din’s Buir walked into a trap? Surely if Din felt that this was suspicious, the Beroya would have too and taken precautions.

Walking through the adjacent building on Coruscant was like walking through a completely different world. Din noticed how human men and women seemed to dress vastly differently here, filling different roles. Din had never really thought about gender. It hadn’t been necessary in training as you couldn’t tell with mandalorians unless they told you, but looking around, Din was confused by how everyone seemed to act and treat each other differently based on these arbitrary made up outward differences. Shaking the feeling off, Din continued back to the ship, finding that a few other mandalorians had also returned.

“You find anything, Djarin?” Rasika asked.

“I might have a lead. The tailor seemed to be feeding me information, but I’m not sure I trust it.”

“Go on.”

Din explained what the Twi’lek had said, mentioning how eerie it had all felt.

“We shall wait until the others return to decide a course of action.” Rasika declared.

As they waited, Din couldn’t help thinking again of how strange all of the interactions on this planet had been. It was all unsettling, from the Twi’lek suggesting they all go to the planet run by the Carpo crime syndicate to the division of gender. Din had never connected to the thought of gender in the way that others had described it. Rasika drew Din back to the present with the clang of Beskar on Beskar.

“Djarin’s lead seems like the best information we have received. I propose that we head to Lanz Carpo. As we do not have many contacts there, I suggest we stay in groups.”

The other mandalorians nodded their approval.

The flight to Lanz Carpo was tense and silent, everyone double-checking and cleaning their weapons in preparation.

Din’s eyes squeezed shut, hoping against hope to see his Buir again soon.

When they arrived, Rasika divided them into groups of three.

“Djarin! With me.” She said. Din nodded in understanding.

“Protect each other. Use your comms only when necessary. If you have foundlings in your group, they are the priority. This is the way.”

“This is the way.” They all echoed.

Din fell into step behind Rasika. She was a respected leader within the community. A lethal warrior.

Din’s heart pounded loud enough that they were sure Rasika could hear it as they navigated the alleys of the syndicate-controlled planet.

“Pssst!” A voice sliced through the silence.

Din turned around to see a Tholothian beckoning them through a side door.

“It’s not safe, mandalorians. Come inside quickly.”

Rasika froze for a moment and Din used his helmet’s heat sensors to make sure it wasn’t a trap before they both moved inside.

“Have you seen another like us?” Rasika asked with authority.

“Huh. I hadn’t heard much of female mandalorians.” The Tholothian remarked suddenly, ignoring the question. “I always assumed they stayed back with the children.”

Rasika’s back straightened as Din struggled to understand the man before them.

“Women often fight and men often stay home as needed in our culture.” Rasika said tightly. “This is the way.”

“This is the way.” Din repeated instantly.

“You don’t see many men who would stay home with the children or women leading the fight. It is refreshing.” The man said.

Something within Din clicked into place like the harsh clang of a hatch on an old ship. When people looked at Din, they saw a mandalorian. If Din was without armor, what would they see? It seemed that everyone else made assumptions based on perceived gender.

People were seen to be doing things ‘as a man’ or ‘as a woman’, even when they were fighting against stereotypes or gender norms.

A stinging started in Din’s nose and eyes, a roaring creeping in their ears.

Utterly confused and overwhelmed, Din turned, looking around the room until something shiny caught their eye.

Din moved instantly towards the object, brushing past the man harshly.

“Hey, wait!” He called to Din.

Din nearly fell over when they realized what it was. One of Din’s Buir’s pauldrons sat on the table.

Rage ran through Din as they turned back around, drawing their blaster and pointing it at the Tholothian.

“What have you done to him?” Din asked angrily. “Where. Is. He?”

The man quickly looked back to Rasika, only to find her blaster trained on him as well.

“Wait! Wait!” He said, raising his hands in the air immediately. “It’s not what it looks like. He’s safe.”

“Where?” Din repeated.

“Upstairs. Just- follow me.”

Din looked at Rasika for guidance. She nodded, and indicated that Din should go in front, the man sandwiched between them. Din cautiously led the way up the stairs that the man had indicated.

“He’s recovering. I’ve been taking care of him.” The man said in a pleading voice.

Din spun around to face the man again.

“Recovering from what?” Din snarled.

“Din?” A weak but familiar voice inquired from the door to Din’s right.

Din reacted immediately, charging towards the door and opening it to reveal a dark but comfortable looking bedroom. A figure on the bed drew Din closer. Without thinking, Din flew towards the bed, dropping to their knees when their brain caught up with them. It was their Buir, missing some pieces of his armor, but his helmet still securely in place. A sling was fastened around his bandaged left arm.

Their Buir reached out his unbandaged right arm, pulling Din close to him until the foreheads of their helmets leaned on each other.

“Din’ika.” He breathed.

“What happened? Are you alright?” Din asked quickly, leaning back to try to assess the damage.

It was then that their Buir explained what had happened. How he had followed the lead from the tailor’s shop and had gotten back to his ship only to find his comms were out (which he unfortunately hadn’t noticed until he had already set the course for Lanz Carpo. How he had chased his bounty for a few weeks across the planet until the bounty was able to get the jump on him, wounding him in the arm and right beneath the bottom of his chest plate. How he had been unable to find a way to call for help and was saved by chance when the Tholothian had found him and taken him in.

“The streets have been… unsafe as of late, so I haven’t been able to locate his ship or try and locate Bacta. Without the help of it, his healing has taken longer.” The Tholothian chimed in.

Rasika set to work immediately, contacting the other mandalorians to relay the information and help find his ship. After the initial rush of activity, Rasika looked briefly between Din and their Buir before leading the Tholothian out of the room and closing the door behind them.

Din immediately deflated, no longer having to keep up appearances.

“I’ve been so worried.” They said, their voice breaking slightly.

“I’m alright Din’ika.” Their Buir reassured them, pulling them closer and settling Din’s helmet close to his chest. “I’ve thought of you everyday. You are growing into a fine warrior, perhaps even a Beroya if you were able to help locate me.”

Din let out an amused chuckle at that, unable to picture themselves measuring up to their Buir.

“Don’t you scoff at me!” Their Buir exclaimed. “I’ll have you know I think you’d be a perfect Beroya.”

Din felt tears glide down their cheeks under their helmet, unable to be wiped away.

The trip back to the covert flew by. Before Din knew it they were sitting back in their room with their Buir, who was looking almost back to normal after being given access to Bacta.

“Something has been troubling you since we arrived back.” He stated, his head tilted to the side as he looked at Din.

Din froze for a moment before letting out a sigh, knowing they couldn’t get anything by their Buir.

“I have not been around… non-mandalorians in a long time.” Din began, shifting in their seat. “Their customs and beliefs… confused me sometimes.”

“Confused you in what way?”

“I had a moment of realization that if anyone ever saw me without my helmet-“

“They will not, Din’ika.”

“Or if they decided my voice was manly or feminine, they would assume so much about me without evening blinking.” Din finished. “It- that even if I defied expectations of gender, I would still be put within a box, a box that feels wrong.” Tears sprung to their eyes and they attempted to scrunch their nose to stop the stinging they felt there.

“Din.” Their Buir said softly.

“I have grown accustomed to Mandalorian culture and the gender neutrality of Mando’a.”

“It is true.” Their Buir said more firmly. “Mando’a does not use gender as Basic does. I am your Buir. Not your mother or your father. This is because in our society it is not relevant to our conversations. It does not factor into our decisions or roles within the covert. It is not for anyone to share their gender unless they choose to for their own reasons.”

“Why does it matter so much to others? I don’t understand.” Din pleaded. “The thought of it is- distressing.” Din paused a moment before continuing in a near whisper. “It breaks my heart.”

Din’s Buir’s chest ached at Din’s words.

“I do not know, but it need not be in your life this way.” He said. “When we speak in Mando’a, it will not be a necessity, and when we speak in Basic, there are ways around it.”

“How?” Din asked, confused.

A knock sounded at the door and both of them stood up to answer it.

The Armorer stood before them, and they both lowered their heads briefly in deference.

“I am glad to see you home.” She said with authority. “And I have heard that Din did well on the mission to find you. You must be proud.

“I am. They did well indeed. I am always proud of them.”

The words hung in the air, a warm feeling spreading through Din as they realized what their Buir had said. Their chest felt tight in the best way as they basked in both the praise and the language that their Buir had used.

The Armorer’s head tilted slightly as she regarded Din before she straightened up and spoke.

“Indeed. They hold much promise. They might make a powerful Beroya one day.”

“This is the way.”

“This is the way.”

Din couldn’t stop the smile that spread across their face.