#winta

Omera smiled at him, a grateful gesture. Din's helmet tilted, a substitute for a smile of his own, and glanced down at the small green child on his lap.

"Why don't you show Winta around, buddy?"

Grogu cooed, nodding as he flipped himself out of his father's grasp. Winta glanced between Din and Omera, seeking permission to unbuckle the strap that held her in place. Omera hesitated for only a moment before she nodded, and soon, the two children were bounding out of the cockpit.

Din called after them. "Make sure you bring her back up when it's time to land, kid!"

Grogu let out some kind of affirmative that Din understood, even if Omera didn't. She watched them warmly, even as Din shifted his full attention onto her. He spun around fully in his chair, relaxing his posture as he let out a soft breath.

"He's gotten good with predicting when we'll come out of hyperspace."

Omera hummed. "Impressive." She regarded the armored man with hardly concealed fondness. "I take it his training is going well, then?"

Din crossed his arms and shrugged. "I'm teaching him what I can, but... those abilities aren't my own. Anything like that he must've learned from the Jedi."

Omera nodded towards the cockpit's threshold. "But you're trusting him to use them alongside his Mandalorian training. That's strengthening them, I imagine."

"I hope so."

Omera smiled warmly. "You're a good teacher." She beamed. "And a good father."

Din shifted and looked down. "I'm trying."

"And you're succeeding."

Omera let out another soft breath, her gaze flickering to the blue lights of hyperspace that shone all around them. She let them sit in silence for a few thoughtful heartbeats before she spoke again.

"It's been a while since I was last off-world."

Din's visor rose to meet her gaze again. "Really?"

Omera nodded. "Winta's father and I were both born and raised on Sorgan, but we had a few adventures before settling back into our village."

Din hummed. "That's how you learned to shoot."

Omera huffed fondly. "Smart man."

"Not always." Din flexed the grasp he had on his arms. "If I was, then we would've been making this trip before I had to get a replacement Crest."

Omera softened. "You had a lot to attend to."

Din didn't respond to that. He simply looked off to the side, his armored chest rising and falling in a steady breath.

Omera decided to redirect. She gently kicked her foot out, just enough to make her boot catch against his. "So, where are you taking us?"

Din faced her again, his posture relaxing as he braced his hands upon his knees. He shrugged. "Thought you two might want a change in pace from all the greenery of Sorgan."

Omera's brow rose in time with the corners of her lips. "So..."

Something on the Razor Crest's console chimed. Din turned back around, flipping a few switches to silence it. "So, we're going somewhere that's not so green."

That still wasn't quite enough to satisfy Omera's curiosity, but she remained silent for now. Instead, she watched as Din tightened his grasp on the joysticks, just before the cockpit door swished aside to make room for Winta and Grogu's return. Omera saw to it that Winta was properly strapped in, while Grogu hopped back into his father's lap.

Din addressed the entire cockpit. "Dropping out of hyperspace... now."

The Razor Crest shuddered as the blue light stretched out into an expanse of stars. Straight ahead of them was a bright white world, covered endlessly by what was unquestionably a thick blanket of snow.

Winta let out a gasp of wonder as she leaned closer to the viewport closest to her. "Whoa! It's so... bright!"

"That's snow, Winta." Omera offered Din another fond look, even if he couldn't see it. "Looks like Mister Djarin really does listen."

Winta cheered with all the childlike enthusiasm within her. "Thank you, Mister Djarin! I've been asking Mama to take me somewhere with snow for cycles."

Din spared her a quick look over his armored shoulder. "You're welcome." He tilted his helmet as the Razor Crest soared towards the planet's atmosphere. "Just be aware, kid. It's cold."

Omera scoffed quietly. "Very cold."

Grogu also cooed an affirmative of his own. Omera recalled the story Din had once told her about what had happened to his original Razor Crest on an icy, snowy world. It seemed as if that experience stuck with Grogu just as much as it had with Din himself.

Din brought the Razor Crest down into an unoccupied part of the planet, with plenty of room for the kids to run around in the snow. It was only once he had the ship powered down that he nodded at Omera, giving her the cue to let Winta hop out of her seat. She giggled as she raced down to the cargo hold, with Grogu following close at her heels.

Before Omera could stand and follow, a gloved hand offered to assist her. Omera looked up, smiling as her gaze met Din's visor. She set her hand in his and stood, giving it a squeeze in thanks. They then followed their two children down into the cargo hold.

Omera stood off to the side as Din approached one of the crates. Winta and Grogu watched him from where they stood in front of one of the closed hatches.

"Like I said before, it's cold here. A lot colder than Sorgan." Din pushed the cover off of one of the crates and reached inside it. "You're gonna need something warmer than what you're wearing right now."

Omera crossed her arms, beaming before she even saw what he held in his grasp. There were two thick, spare capes, one fit closer to Winta's size and another for Omera's, along with two pairs of gloves. He turned to face the two of them while Grogu dug into the crate himself for his own warmer clothes.

Omera started to step towards Winta, but Din held out a gentle gloved hand to stop her. She froze, softening even more as she watched Din kneel down to Winta's level and set the piles of clothing aside. He lifted the small cape and eased it over Winta's shoulders.

"This won't be as effective as a jacket, but..." Din secured it in place and nodded. "It'll do for now." He then offered her the gloves.

Winta smiled in appreciation. "Thank you, Mister Djarin."

Din set a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. "You can just call me Din, kid."

Winta looked up to Omera for permission. Omera's gaze flickered to Din before she nodded. Winta looked at Din again and repeated the gesture.

Din stood, using his vambrace to open the hatch. Bright light reflecting off the white snow illuminated the cargo hold, making Winta gasp with delight once again. She and Grogu both tumbled down the gangplank as soon as it hit the ground, laughing the entire way.

Omera watched them with a smile even as Din approached her next. She was ready to take the supplies from him, but just like with Winta, he stopped her.

Din set the gloves aside as he focused on the cape first, moving more gently than Omera ever thought a warrior like himself could be. He clasped the cape underneath her chin, his fingers gently brushing over her collarbone before he moved back towards the gloves. Din assisted her with those as well, leaving their hands partially entwined by the time he was finished.

"There." Din's voice was so soft that it merely crackled through his vocoder, almost inaudible. He steadied himself with a quiet breath as he looked down at her. "Is that alright?"

Omera's smile widened. "It's perfect." She pressed a gloved hand upon his cuirass, giving her the support to push herself up to press her lips against the curve of his beskar helmet. "Thank you, Din."

Din just nodded, and Omera imagined a blush beneath his helmet as he remained speechless. He guided her towards the hatch with a gentle hand upon her back, where they were free to watch over their children playing excitedly in the snow.

She too had wished that this could have been their reality years before, but Omera wouldn't take this moment for granted. She would have waited a lifetime if that's what it had taken.

"It's you." You whisper the moment you see the child.

Child of green shows he's not mean.

A line from the piece of paper that sat closest to your heart.

Honestly, the first time you had read over the paper, you grimaced.

Vaguely written was an understatement when it came to your soulmate letter. The thing looked as if it had attempted to make itself rhyme alongside being vague. And only that single line stood out to you the most.

Well, it had at one point. Until you realized the galaxy had a multitude of green children.

The part you never focused on was the shows he's not mean one. Which you most likely should have until now.

But it didn't matter anymore because you understood.

A Mandalorian, for Maker's sake, stood close to the child. One of the fiercest known warriors in the galaxy.

Shows he's not mean.

Right...

He was listening to a woman you faintly recognize, yet you couldn't put a name to her face. She looked as fierce as the Mandalorian even without the beskar armor.

They both seemed relaxed for the most part.

Something that was bound to change now that you were there.

"Uncle, you're back!" The bright cry of Winta tore you from your thoughts as the little girl jumped into your arms. Warmth flooded your chest when she nuzzles into your shoulder. It felt like ages since you had last seen your niece.

"Ah, starflower. Look how much you've grown."

Pride was an understatement when you looked at her. She was growing into those rich eyes of hers and the too-big ears.

A chuckle rumbles from your chest as you ruffle her hair.

"Uncle, look, look! A nice man saved the village. And look at the monster he helped us beat." She motions towards the Mandalorian before bouncing in your arms and pointing at the AT-ST.

It was the soft tug at your pants that drags your attention down from trying to follow Winta's wild gestures.

The small green child peers up at you. His tiny three-clawed hands grasp your right leg. The trust he held in his deep galaxy eyes made your heart ache.

So, it begins. You couldn't help thinking as you hum.

"Well, what do we have here?" You knelt down by the child as Winta giggles at the movement. "Who is this little tooka kit?"

Winta tugs on your sleeve, saying, "It's the nice man's son. Isn't he cute?" She continues babbling about the child as your sister approached.

Omera was as beautiful as you remember her being. Elegant, yet simple as always.

It seems the ache of her husband's death still haunted her. You could tell from the relief that swam in her eyes at seeing you. A relief that only one who experienced tremendous loss could have.

"You're home." You settle Winta on the ground next to the child before straightening up.

It didn't take long for Omera to step forward to wrap her arms tightly around you, crushing you in her embrace. For such a delicate-looking woman, she was unbelievably strong.

"Thank the stars..." She murmurs before relaxing her hold on you. "So much has changed since you left."

Your eyes flick to the Mandalorian as he starts making his way over.

"I see," You raise a hand in greeting when the warrior got close enough. "You have my thanks, Warrior. Winta told me you helped our village."

The Mandalorian tips his helmet down enough for you to see before Omera hums, "Come, sit. I'm sure you're tired. And there's much to tell you."

You made your way over to a small bonfire, letting the familiar smells of your homeworld soothe you.

The rich fish-like scent from the krill ponds wasn't particularly one you missed, but the earthy mesh of the forest surrounding the small village was. Especially the hint of native flowers.

Once you settle down, Omera began to explain the events of how the Mandalorian and Cara Dune trained the people enough to fight back. Their plan went surprisingly well for what little time they had to initiate it.

"It seems what you taught me finally came in handy." Omera's tone was warm as she smiles sweetly.

The Mandalorian, who sat across from the both of you with the child sitting between his boots, cocks his head.

"You taught her how to handle a blaster?" His timbre reachs you even through the vocoder. The smoothness of it sent pleasant shivers down your spine.

"I did. It was something I picked up along the way with my travels. Searches, really." For him.

But you wouldn't admit that out loud.

"I'm sure you know how inhospitable the outer rim planets are, Warrior." A sad smile spreads across your lips when you meet his T visor. "I had to learn how to fight to survive."

You weren't the best at fighting or shooting, really. If the scars you bore were anything to go off of. You knew you had a lot to learn about fighting and shooting. And you hope your soulmate would teach you, when the time came.

Something about how his T visor bore into you urges you to speak more. You felt as if he deserved to know he wasn't alone in these dangerous travels.

"But I am glad at least." The Mandalorian leans forward a bit, almost as if he were curious to hear what you had to say. "Learning how to fight seems to have helped my sister protect the village alongside help from you and Ms. Dune."

Cara laughs a deep boisterous laugh as she relaxes against one of the logs further to your right.

"Please, just Cara is fine." You send her a smile and nod before looking back at the child who had managed to make his way towards you.

Just as he reached your boots you see a small red dot appear on his back.

It was small enough not to go noticed by many. But you had seen it enough times to know what it was by now.

You move faster than you ever have in your life to grab the child and twist to the side as a loud bang echoes through the once silent forest. Cara takes off in the direction the shot came from as the Mandalorian moves to shield your body with his own.

Your heart thunders in your ears as you stare down at the child. Shaky gasps leave you when his wide eyes peer back up at you and he cooes.

You scan him for injuries, thinking that maybe he still got hurt and you didn't move fast enough. Yet when you see that he is fine, you heave a sigh. The kid was more amused by the sudden roll than anything.

Warm hands tug you up as the Mandalorian takes the child from you. Giving him a good look over himself before turning his attention to you.

"You're hurt," The Mandalorian sets the child back down before kneeling beside you. "Let me see."

He firmly yet gently grips you right shoulder as you start to notice the white hot agony in your left. A yelp of pain escapes when the Mandalorian grazes his gloved finger over the blaster burn. He retracts his hand immediately murmuring an apology.

Omera is by your other side tightly gripping your hand as she weakly asks if you're alright. You can see her starting to panic.

Her husband had died due to a blaster shot. If she were to loose you too, it would definitely break her heart and Winta's.

"I'm fine sister," You squeeze her hand back gently. "This is not the worst wound I've had before."

The Mandalorian had started moving as you reassured Omera. He held the child lightly in one arm as he stalked to the small barn your sister had set him up in. You watch him go feeling a dull ache appear in your chest.

Focusing back on Omera you see how she seems to put the pieces together. Her earlier panic having faded. Eyes widening a fraction she looks up at you.

"He's your soulmate." The moment the words are spoken to the still air you close your eyes. The truth settles on your shoulders like a warm blanket on a cold night. Soothing the ache and numbing the pain in your shoulder a tad.

You say nothing to Omera as the Mandalorian reappears carrying a small box in his hands. He kneels next to you again and rifles through the box pulling out a bacta spray. Meeting his T visor you hum.

"Is the child okay?" He nods as Omera stands up stating she was going to get you a new shirt. Since the shot burned a hole in the shirt you currently wore.

Cara appears from the woods a frown hardening her features as she approaches you and the Mandalorian.

Unease trickles down your spine as she mutters, "It looks like it's time for you to go, Mando." She holds up a crushed tracker before tossing it next to his knee.

You glance at it before looking over to the barn the child was in. He was in danger here. Because if one bounty hunter knew he was here then many others did as well.

"Do you have a ship?" The Mandalorian turns to look at you just as you're tugging off your shirt to have better access to your shoulder. Heat crawls up your neck as you ball the shirt in your hands.

You had at one point had a ship, but sold it due to not having enough credits for fuel to make it back home. You ended up bumming a ride from a small freighter just to return to Sorgan.

When you shake your head the Mandalorian moves back to clean your wound and spray bacta on it.

Little did you know you earned his trust quite quickly. There was something about you protecting the kid even when you just met and the burning of his own soulmate letter near his heart that made him ask.

"Well, how do you feel about coming with me? I can help you find what you're looking for. It's the least I can do since you saved my Foundling."

The moment he asked that single question in his low baritone voice your fate was sealed. Because he had already helped you find what you were looking for.

Him.

"I'd be honored, Warrior."

Closer than what's been told. Heart of gold buried beneath cold. Child of green shows he's not mean. Austerely endures sincerely, yours

AN: I know it's pretty bad but I thought some of it made sense. 🤷 I'm not good at rhyming.