#zee writes

It was Baelor’s own fault really, as loath as he was to admit it. He should have known not to turn his head in the direction of the door at the knock, should have remembered that there was currently a valet with a blade against his face and that movement would mean the neat line of his beard was going to suddenly become far less neat and there would be a large chunk of his beard now sitting like a lump in the poor boy’s hand. 

They both stared at each other with wide eyes, the boy now shaking and Baelor frozen in incredulity. The boy began to blubber, hurried apologies rushing from his mouth in a panic as he stared at the oddly carved line where a lovely salt and pepper beard had once resided. Baelor sat up, looking into the mirror this way and that as he yelled for whoever was talking to come in. He was attempting to keep a tight hold on his patience, because his ire was undeserved in this situation. He knew that. But he couldn’t help feeling it. 

Though he prided himself on not being overly vain (though he also would not deny someone calling him handsome or the claim that he had been naturally gifted in his looks) any respectable man took care of their appearance. He felt suddenly bare and wrong knowing that it would all have to go. Oh what would you say? He cared more for your opinion of his looks than he did his own. He could get by with or without a beard, but you always waxed poetic about how lovely his looked, always told him how much you loved the feel of it between your thighs. Oh what would you say… 

“Your grace, you are urgently required in council with the King. A dispute has broken out between Prince Maekar and the Master of Coin and none can handle it but you, sir.” The knight looked wary, glancing at Baelor and the valet and the blade and thinking of the kerfuffle occurring in the council chambers at the same moment. 

Baelor shut his eyes and sighed, long and low, shaking his head as the immense tiredness of it all hit him. This would not do. This would not do at all. Then he took a deep breath in and nodded his head, leaning back in the chair and gesturing for the valet to return. 

“Take off the beard but leave the moustache, I shall return to have the lot shaved off after I handle this matter. And be quick about it, I do not mind a nick or two. And you, Ser, make the two parties aware that I will be there shortly and there should not be any fists raised by the time I enter the door.” 

The knight nodded and left swiftly, beginning to jog when the door closed behind him. For all he knew, Prince Maekar was already at the Master of Coin’s throat. Baelor shut his eyes and sighed, jaw tight as he felt the quick movements and heard the scraping sounds of the blade against his cheeks. Oh what would you say…

When Baelor finally made it to the council chamber, rubbing his hand over his bare jaw and fluffy upper lip the whole way, Maekar was standing and glaring across the table, palms slammed down on top of it. All the seated men turned their heads to face the door, and it was an instant change in expression. Eyes widened, mouths gaped, and Baelor grimaced at the sea of shock, jaw working back and forth uncomfortably. And then worst of all, the thing he knew was coming, a high amused laugh from Maekar. The youngest prince leaned back from where he had been threatening the Master of Coin and guffawed, watching his eldest brother with shiny amused eyes. But Baelor only shot him a glare, moving swiftly to his seat and settling down with a huffing sigh. 

“What is the matter here? I was told that two grown men, two lords of the realm,” he emphasised, “could not hold a civilised discussion and were resorting to raising fists.” 

Everyone (bar Maekar) settled down after that, getting right back down to business and focusing on tasks that actually mattered (and not the state of Baelor’s facial hair). Once the rest of the council departed and left Maekar and Baelor to their own company, the youngest prince began to laugh once more. It was a proper laugh, the kind that shook his entire body and made his eyes shine like anything. 

“You look fucking ridiculous,” Maekar giggled, wiping haphazardly at his eyes as he was overwhelmed with laughter once more. “It makes you look rather like a man known to frequent a whorehouse,” he continued, leaning in and squinting at Baelor’s upper lip. The elder just scoffed, shaking his head as irritation rose along his spine. “Perhaps if Valarr was not aware of your transgressions with his wife before, then surely this pervert’s visage will tell him.” 

Again, Maekar dissolved into laughter, pressing his hands to his face as his breath left him. Baelor clenched his jaw at that, shutting his eyes and sighing long and low. This would be a difficult day… 

And difficult it was. Work seemed to pile up like never before, meaning there was not a spare moment to be had where he could have the boy return and shave the offending thing off his face. In each meeting, each walk along the hall, everyone’s eyes drifted to his face, each widening or shining in mirth, each fluttering away as if the sight was offending. Though he did not have much time to dwell on this either, whenever the thought did hit, it only filled him with dread at what your reaction might be. 

On the other side of the Keep, you had been having a lovely relaxed day. You woke up well past sunrise, laved in kisses by Father, had a luscious breakfast followed by dress fittings, had spent some time reading in the gardens then took tea with your ladies in the gazebo. Though you were a little upset that you had not had time to find Father at any point, you knew you would see him in the evening for a lovely dinner with just the two of you, so you bided your time until the sun set and you found yourself in his chambers once more. 

The table had been set, waiting only for Baelor to return, and you sat leisurely on the chaise in front of the fire with your book. He was a little later than usual, but that was no matter for it was not an unexpected occurrence either. Just when you stood to pour yourself a cup of wine, the door opened and Baelor walked in. 

He sighed tiredly, and kept his head bent a little. You beamed as you turned away from the table, your pretty pink silk dress swishing against the floor, your mouth opening ready to greet him when you caught sight of his face and let out a loud (rather dramatic) gasp. 

Baelor grimaced as he caught sight of your widened eyes, jaw clenching just so as he made his way to you. You stared up at him, frozen and gasping like a fish out of water, before hurrying forward and reaching your hands out. You began dragging your fingertips along his face, over the smooth planes of his cheeks where his beard had once grown lusciously, and then the tuft of hair on his upper lip, feeling along it like a jeweller with their latest horde. 

“An unfortunate incident occurred this morning,” he began quietly, holding you around the waist and pressing you close. If there was to be any consolation for this, he would only find it with you pressed against him. But before he could continue, you were pressing up onto the tips of your toes, gripping him by the back of the neck, and kissing obnoxiously over the smooth skin of his cheeks. You made happy little noises, nuzzling your nose and mouth against him. 

“You look utterly ravishing!” You squealed excitedly, tracing your lips over the bridge of his nose and along his other cheek. 

Baelor froze against you, eyes going a little wide and mouth slackening. He moved his head back a little to look down at you, but you were too busy caressing his face and looking up at him with big shiny eyes of awe. He could not fathom it. 

“Ravishing?” He asked incredulously, fingers pressing then releasing at your waist. 

“Yes! Oh my, I never even considered the possibilities! I always thought you looked far too good with your beard so I never questioned it but my my! I did not even think of you in this way!” You were truly beaming now, giggling a little and touching him incessantly (not that you didn’t already do this, but it felt overloaded now). You caressed your fingertips up and down his neck, traced his jawline and even pressed teasing pecks to his chin. 

“Everyone has gawped at me all the day long,” he told you softly, reaching up to cup your cheek in return, running his thumb along the soft skin there. 

“I am not at all surprised! You look so utterly delectable like this, I am sure they were all imagining pulling you into their beds!” You responded quickly, a spark of jealousy burning suddenly at the idea, your teeth baring a little to nip at his jaw. 

Baelor huffed a laugh, shaking his head as his own body suddenly lit up at your blatant desire. He was most endeared to you when you were like this, so earnest in your position that you could not possibly believe anyone would think otherwise. 

“Maekar proclaimed that I looked a lecher ready for the whorehouse,” he told you with a grumble, one corner of his mouth ticking up in mirth. But you only gasped again and pressed a soft kiss to his mouth, humming softly. 

“Mm, but in a very attractive way, Father,” you giggled, and he scoffed again, nipping at your lip in return. 

“I was interrupted as the valet did his work, and it was better to shave it all off than to keep a mutilated beard,” he told you finally, running his nose along the side of your face in return. It was rather funny how the two of you turned into pups around each other, rubbing and kissing as if you had not seen each other in years when the reality was far from it. “I was meant to return to have this offending thing shaved off on the morrow.” 

Again you gasped, loud and dramatic but utterly offended this time. You gripped onto his shoulders and pulled back, making sure he was looking you in the eye. 

“Father! You will do no such thing!” You glared at him, as if he had already done it and denied you something precious, but he only scoffed and smiled with incredulity, looking at you as if you had lost your head. 

“My sweet girl, it is a ridiculous sight,” he rejoinded, but you began pouting and shaking your head abruptly. 

You pulled him to the chaise and forced him down, clambering swiftly onto his lap so he had no time to think otherwise. His palms automatically came to rest on your waist, and once you had settled there, you draped your arms over his shoulders and began gently kissing at his lips in soft little pecks. 

“It is not ridiculous. It makes you look… I do not know if I have the capacity to explain it to you properly Father, but it makes you look very…” then you huffed a little and smiled mischievously, leaning in and kissing him fully, mouth open and tongue exploring. “I want to see you between my legs this way,” you finally murmured, voice small and like a physical pressure against his mouth, as if you spoke the words right into him. 

Baelor shuddered, involuntary and powerful, every bit of his skin going hot and blazing. His eyes fluttered and he groaned, hurrying to kiss you once more, licking between the seam of your lips. He clutched the back of your neck tight, his arm a band around your waist now to keep you as physically close as possible. 

“Please do not get rid of it,” you whispered in a rush as your hips began to undulate against his lap. “Please, Father, do not be rid of it just yet,” you panted. 

Baelor groaned again, louder this time as he felt the weight of you drag against him, the pulsing in his trouser leg quickening. 

“I just know it will feel so good here,” you moaned right by his ear, taking one of his palms and dragging it down the length of your body to cup you between your legs. He groaned again, matching your moan when he pressed his hand even harder there, his eyes fluttering open just so he could watch your face contort. 

“It makes you look like you want to ravish me,” you finally broke out, writhing in his grip now. He let out something between a groan and a moan this time, his head nodding quickly as he began mouthing at your neck, pressing his lips and tongue and teeth there. 

“I do, I do, seven’s sake, I do,” he murmured quickly, repeating it over and over again as you moaned once more and pulled back to begin kissing him once more, feverish and hot. 

Remus reaches the daycare and realises he doesn't know what he's supposed to do. He walks by the window and sees Lyla colouring in her classroom. She notices the movement and looks up from her drawing. He can't hear her through the window but she's jumping around and cheering at the sight of him, waving excitedly.

He waves back at her, smiling, then notices one of her teachers gesturing to meet her at the entrance.

She gets past the gate to the classroom, leaving Lyla behind. "Hi, I know you're here for Lyla but since you're not her mum I'm going to need your ID," she says pulling out a file from one of the shelves.

He pulls out his wallet and gives it to her and watches her scan a list of what seems to be names of parents of the children.

She takes a few seconds and finally says, "Ah yes, Remus Lupin. You're on her list. I'll get her for you." He watches the teacher look into the classroom and call Lyla.

And then he realises. He's on the list. He's on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare. You put him on the list of people who can pick Lyla up from daycare.

He's snapped out of his thoughts when he hears Lyla's voice. "Remoose!" she yells, running up to him.

"Hiya, angel," he says and picks her up. His heart melts as she immediately wraps her arms around his neck for a hug. "Mummy will join us later, but for now it's just you and me, okay?"

"We can watch TV?" she asks. "And then- then play toys?"

"Mhm, that sounds like a good plan," Remus replies, and they head to your home.

Later, you turn your key to your flat and open the door. You can hear the television playing a movie and the sound of your daughter's laughter. You kick off your shoes and walk into the living room.

Remus is covered in the fake makeup from Lyla's child-friendly kit. His hair is also adorned with little flower hair clips. He sits cross-legged on the floor while she sits in his lap.

"Looks like you had a lot of fun without me, hm?" you say. Lyla jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately running to you.

"Mummy! Remus fetched me today!"

"I know, darling," you kiss her cheek. "I asked him to. Did he take good care of you?"

She nods aggressively. She runs back to Remus, who is already walking up to you.

"Well don't you look pretty today," you tease. He smiles and breathes a soft laugh.

"My makeup artist is talented. She's very serious about this," he presses a kiss to your forehead. "You hungry? I can heat up dinner."

"That'd be great, and then it's time for this bug to go to bed," you pick up Lyla. "Isn't that right?"

She lays her head on your shoulder, visibly getting sleepy as it gets closer to her usual bedtime.

"Say good night to Remus?" you turn your body, so she faces him.

Remus bends down to kiss her hair, "Good night, angel."

Lyla slowly closes her eyes, "G'night..."

Putting your baby to bed goes smoothly, and she easily winds down as she is tucked into bed. She snuggles into her blanket and looks up at you.

"I like it when Remus fetches me from school," you hear her mumble.

You smile at that. "Really?"

She nods. "I really like Remus."

"I really like Remus too, darling."

"I think you get very happy around him, Mummy," she whispers. "You were not very happy last year, but now I see you be happy with him. So I'm happy."

You feel your heart do something. Jump? Lurch? Lyla was right, being a single parent comes with its challenges and you can admit a lot of late nights were spent biting your nails and wiping tears from your cheeks. You tried your best to prevent her from seeing you in that state, but you know she's observant enough for her age.

And that's why you're so thankful to have met Remus. He accepted you despite the fact you had a whole child. He saw you not only as you but also as the mother of your child. He understood that Lyla would always be a priority to you over romance (unlike most men you've met). Despite all its complications, he has been able to fit into your lives as if he's already meant to be there.

A prime example could be taken from today. Surely he could've said no to picking up Lyla from daycare, he's just her mother's boyfriend, after all. But he agreed and handled the rest.

"He does make me really happy," you say to her. "Does he make you happy too?"

"Mhm! He always plays with me and watches shows with me. He also hugs me and kisses me. He makes me happy. He's like my Daddy."

You chuckle, trying to hide the way your heart is going crazy at that. Somehow, you take the leap. "You want Remus to be your Daddy?"

"Can I call him my Daddy?" she asks, her eyes hopeful.

"You'll have to ask him tomorrow," you say, and you wonder what his reaction would be.

"Okay, I'll ask him tomorrow. Good night, Mummy."

You kiss her forehead, "Good night, darling."

You walk out of her room to see Remus placing your plate of food on the table for you. Without saying anything, you approach him and hug him. He hugs you back.

He is silent for a while, swaying your body slowly as you hug. "You were in there for a while, what were you talking about?" he mumbles into your hair.

You take a deep breath and look up at him, chin resting on your chest. "I love you," you say.

He furrows his brows but nods anyway. "I love you, too."

"Lyla wants to call you her dad."

Remus stops swaying. What is he thinking?

"Okay," he says, simply.

You jerk your head back, "Really?"

"Of course, I love her too, you know. I'd be honoured."

Chuckling, you bury your head into his chest and squeeze him. You feel him press a kiss into your hair.

"We're like a little family," he whispers to you. And you can see it too. You, your daughter, and Remus altogether as one.

And there's honestly nothing you want more than that.

The Galaxy was losing its edge, or maybe you were.

Things were less interesting, the stars didn’t shine as bright. And recently, a heavy weight has been sitting on each shoulder of yours for quite some time. Years, in fact. So many years.

Years of struggling, years of gliding through the universe trying to figure out why exactly the maker brought you here. Why exactly would he put you in such a situation that made you so utterly uncomfortable on a daily basis, if not to purely make you suffer?

These are the kind of thoughts the hum of hyperspace couldn’t possibly mask. And banging your head on the durasteel walls wasn’t a solid option either, you had to keep your head in decent shape if you were to keep your job.

A small weight bares itself on your lap, and with a small tilt of the head two brown wide eyes are staring up at you. The child is a guiding light in the dark, he’s a star in the night sky. He’d project so much love your way when you started to feel down. It meant a lot, such a small being that’s so full of love.

You wished it was enough, but a small little green goblin wasn’t the cure to your ailments no matter how much you wanted it to be that way.

The concept of gender in the universe wasn’t even that much of anything. People were just who they were. Born as or not. There wasn’t very many people in the galaxy who would look at you weird for transcending gender, many species harbored many traits. And the universe had easy fixes for those who didn’t fit the binary.

However that doesn’t mean you’re cured. The mental health issues you dealt with aren’t going away easily. Depression doesn’t just go away. It comes back and festers, or disappears just to reveal itself months, years, later.

Even on the best days, your chest can feel heavy. Despite the body mods, you still don’t feel right. A flat chest doesn’t solve the way you stare helplessly and hatefully in the mirror at your body. At the scars on your arms or legs, at where the fat doesn’t sit like you picture. Or how your hips jut out just a little more than the average man.

Two little claws cup your cheeks before you even realize your crying. A sad coo, and that heartfelt feeling surrounds you again.

“It’s okay, Buddy”

Five weeks. It’s not going away, no matter how hard you try to make it.

It’s in the way you walk, the way you talk. Din Djarin noticed the first week, but didn’t want to mention it until recently.

You’ve been different. You spent more time alone, you’re short with your answers. And you stare off into the distance in a way you didn’t used to around him.

You’ve only been working alongside each other for about six months. And he couldn’t tell what was wrong. You seemed perfectly healthy, just.. quiet. Distant. You used to try and talk his ear off with questions, settled out, and then things just stopped. You stopped asking, stopped talking. It was too quiet. Was he actually starting to miss your voice by now?

He’d had enough when you made a comment under your breath that sounded a little dangerous. He didn’t pay attention, he just knew it was wrong.

What did Djarin do?

He sat you down on the edge of the cot while he stood in front of the quarters portal. Arms crossed, visor tilted down to meet your tired eyes.

You’re sitting there, hands in your lap, eyes devoid of color. You’re expecting some lecture or to be pushed to rest. But the stiffness in Din’s posture makes you think otherwise. Somethings on his mind. It’s anxiety inducing, watching him slightly pace around while he finds his words. Was this going to be him firing you?

“What’s going on with you?”

You didn’t expect that.

“What?”

Din stops, and turns your way.

“You’ve been acting weird recently. What’s going on?”

So he’s noticed. You can’t remember how long it’s been since the depression came back, that’s probably a bad thing.

“You haven’t been sleeping,” he starts, “You’re being short with me and Grogu”

He crosses his arms, “and you.. don’t seem like yourself..”

It’s like something clicks in his head when you look up at him with this sort of defeated look.

“How are you doing?”

You don’t think you’ve ever heard him talk so much at once. Or ask about anyone’s wellbeing.

“You don’t seem so much like yourself either” you plainly joke with a forced chuckle. Din continues to just stare you down, guess the joke didn’t land. Awkward…

Your eyes shift down to his boots, the forced smile you had on fades. How are you doing? Really? You have a feeling Din isn’t going to just let this one go. You’ve got ten more hours in hyperspace, and only the hull of the razor crest.

Din sighs, a crackle in the modulator of his helmet. He crouches so that your eyes shift to his helmet instead of his boots.

“What’s bothering you?”

Tears well up in your eyes- but you’re quick to wipe them away. You give a soft defeated chuckle and look to the side. Avoiding the others gaze.

“I’m sorry Mando, I guess I should have been more considerate of you and the kid-“

“Don’t give me that.” Din stands, “I asked you a question. Answer it.”

It’s short, and it’s stern. It’s Din Djarin- making an effort in one of the only ways he knows how to.

“Fine” you huff, and begin to play with the hem of your sleeve.

“It’s embarrassing to have to admit, especially after being forced to admit it but- fine. Who cares what I want-“

You don’t give him a chance to butt in before your ranting.

“Whoop-Dee-doo, my depression is back. Not like it ever went away. I guess it just decided to bite me in the ass again after I thought I’d finally be free of it. I’m sorry you and the kid have to be around it- I know it’s not pleasant..”

A deep breath in. Djarin stands still while looking at you.

“I just.. can’t help it, recently it’s been kicking me in the stomach with it all. Usually I’m able to just like.. push it all down and ignore the pain or the images in my head, recently it’s just gotten worse. I feel like blinding myself so I don’t have to look at myself in the mirror- so I don’t have to see this staring back at me” you gesture to yourself, and sit up on the cot. You pick at your nails as you keep talking.

“I don’t know why I can’t just feel normal or have normal thoughts. Or urges. It’s exhausting having to just stay awake with them..”

“Urges?” Din asks with a tilt of his head.

That makes you look up at him. Oh, right. He was here. You weren’t just talking to a wall. Heat creeps up on your cheeks and you look away.

“You know.. urges.” You make a gesture, and he stares at you.

You huff, and bite your lip as you try to find a way around saying it outright. Din wasn’t the easiest to beat around the bush with. He often needed things blunt and straight to the point.

“You’ve seen my arms, Mando. You can connect the dots.”

You stare at the cold black visor as din stares back. His posture shifts ever so slightly.

“You hurt yourself.” It’s flat, stated as both a question and observation.

“Used to.” You clarify, “It’s been.. awhile. But.. just because I haven’t done it in some time doesn’t mean it doesn’t haunt my everyday thoughts”

Din wishes he could understand what would bring a person to hurt themselves, he’s a man of few words and knows actions can mean everything. You must have been going through some rough shit to have found solace in temporary pain.

He nods, and you bite your lip.

“Is it just the..” he shifts his weight.

“No” you admit, “I struggle with.. a lot. Sometimes my brain tells me to just end it all without a reason.. not that I like.. actively wish that upon myself. It’s involuntary..”

You sigh, “The self image issues, too. I’ll admit. I wasn’t born.. with the right attributes. Not the typical human male, I guess. That fucks with my brain too, perception and- yeah. I dunno how to explain it the best. I just don’t see myself right in the mirror and it effects me. And how I want to be seen by others. It can make me feel really bad sometimes.”

You’re subconsciously scratching your wrist, and Din reaches out and stops it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see you struggling earlier” he says, pulling his hand back.

“I can’t imagine what you have to be dealing with..” he looks off to the side, “You’re decent at hiding it when you're not being a jerk” he looks back- is that some sort of joke?

You crack a grin that fades instantly.

“I just have to push through it” you answer before he can ask.

You know it isn’t a very good answer, Din stands before you with a disappointed tilt of his head.

“…talking helps though” you mumble, “I haven’t even really gotten deep into it with you and it already feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.”

That seems to ease the tension in Din’s stature.

“You can always talk to me” Din says, voice a low rumble through the vocoder. He means it, too. He likes hearing you talk your ass off, it wouldn’t be any different if you were talking his ear off with your problems. As long as you felt better in the end.

“Thanks”

Din nods, and he gestures to the cot. Your tired so it’s a welcome invite, and you fall back and let your spine hit the cot.

Din disappears for a little while before coming back, setting the kid on your chest. A few more minutes pass and he himself crawls into the tight expanse of the sleeping quarters.

He’s devoid of his armor- save for his helmet that he refused to take off.

It isn’t often you guys sleep together, oftentimes Din took the pilot's seat and slept up there while he’s taking ‘first watch’.

Today was different though, Din could tell you needed it. And the way you slunk into his arms after he opened them told him what he needed to know.

The light shut off and the portal door closed. You shuffled around in dins arms till your back was pressed up against his chest and his arms were around you- and the kid who was cuddled up to your chest.

The touch soothes your nerves. Maybe a little light lit itself at the end of your tunnel today. You felt lighter, sharing the weight of what bothered you helped. Din was strong enough to carry some of it- and it seemed like he wanted to in his own way.

You weren’t alone in this, not now and certainly not since you first stepped foot onto the razor crest.

Now you didn’t have to be alone with your thoughts, you had someone to hold onto them with you- you had someone who could help you balance this weight of urges and image issues. It would take a while to open up completely- but maybe that’s what you both need. To open up to each other.