Written for Narcos Fandom Smut Alphabet Day 9: Infidelity
PS. This can be seen as an individual story, or in the same universe as A Few Moments
His phone starts ringing when Pacho is halfway through getting his pants off. For a brief moment, Miguel seriously considers ignoring it. Heās so painfully hard right now that he doubts he can have a productive conversation anyway.
But then, what if itās important? Fuck, itās always important when he gets a direct call.
He sighs heavily and pushes Pacho off to the side, who thankfully doesnāt protest. He grabs the phone off the nightstand and hits the answer key harder than necessary.
āMiguel? Are you ok? You were supposed to be back three days ago.ā
He lets out a frustrated grunt at Daniellaās voice. āI told you I was meeting with the Colombians. What do you want?ā
She keeps talking about how no one tells her anything and she was worried, but seriously, how worried can she be? She doesnāt love him. If she is concerned about him, itās only because his safety affects her own.
āIām fine, Daniella. Iāll be back when everythingās settled here.ā Miguel says blandly and hangs up the phone.
A skillful hand returns to his waist, digging into his underwear. āSounds like your poor wifeās worried.ā
āItās nothing.ā His pants are still uncomfortably caught around his ankles. He kicks them off.
āMaybe because you donāt give her enough attention. I wonder why.ā Pacho pulls his underwear down, and he canāt help but let out a relaxed sigh.
āIs that what you want to talk about? My wife?ā He watches Pacho climb on top of him. At this point, the Colombianās naked body doesnāt feel novel anymore, but still, he canāt help but stare as the other man straddles him.
Maybe because in some ways, he still canāt believe this is really happening.
āOh Miguel,ā Pacho chuckles, ātrust me, it doesnāt bother me nearly as much as it bothers you.ā
Of course it doesnāt. Itās not like Pacho would have some moral code of not having affairs with married people.
āAnd it clearly doesnāt bother you enough either.ā Pacho continues, while rubbing their hard cocks together. āFidelity has never been your strong suit.ā
Miguel moans as pleasure starts to build up. He holds Pachoās waist, feeling the muscles underneath moving with their rhythm. He doesnāt want to finish off like this today. He needs to fuck Pacho, or lets Pacho fuck him. He didnāt travel all the way here just to get off like a teenager.
Because for what itās worth, Pacho is actually right. He is a lot of things, but not loyal. When thereās an enchanting opportunity, he takes it.
Miguel gathers all the strength in his thighs, and flips Pacho over.
Written for Narcos Fandom Smut Alphabet Day 7: Gun Play
āDoes it hurt?ā Amado tentatively pushes the barrel forward, just a tiny bit. His palm is sweating, giving him an unpleasant sticky sensation against the metal.
āNo,ā Miguel sighs, āyou asked a minute ago, just fucking get on with it.ā
Itās almost funny from an objective point of view. How is he the more nervous one?
He swallows and pushes the gun again, this time with more force. The barrel slides in seamlessly, the lube around it making scandalous sounds.
Miguel doesnāt say anything, but the muscles in his back are immediately tensed up, his hand grasping the soft silk sheet underneath.
Amado almost asks the same question again but manages to keep quiet this time, and simply waits for the other man to relax.
He doesnāt know why Miguel wants to do this. He has some ideas but heās not sure, just like heās not sure why they began to have sex at all about a year ago.
He remembers the dim yellow light, the bitter aftertaste of expensive whisky and the cool leather under his palm. They were sitting side by side on the couch and Miguel leaned in, their thighs touching and his heart skipping a beat.
āDo you want it or not?ā
That was all it took back then for him to say yes.
And that was all it took today.
Amado lets go of the gun for a few seconds, relaxing his fingers and wrist. Then he takes a firm hold of the grip and pushes it all the way in.
This time Miguel canāt hold back a moan. Amado knows he must have tried, he always does. Maybe itās a sense of pride, or more likely, a strange form of detachment.
Because thatās all this is to Miguel, isnāt it? It has to be. Itās an escape from the business and from himself, a delusion that he is willing to trust and give up control, to be a simple man that enjoys the most primal form of pleasure, even just for a few minutes.
But itās not an escape for Amado himself. Itās a lot of things: a reward, a test, a fantasy, but never an escape.
Because even when heās holding the trigger, there are no bullets in the gun. Whatever he does to Miguel in bed, be it gentle kisses or rough play, or even right now when he repeatedly thrusts a pistol in and out of Miguelās body, heās ultimately doing only one thing:
Written for Narcos Fandom Smut Alphabet Day 4: ādonāt make a sound or theyāll hear us.ā
Pachoās lips crush into his as soon as the chapel door closes with a creak.
Miguel lets out a muffled sound, eyes growing wide at this sudden attack.
āWhat the fuck was that?!ā He almost screamed, but managed to keep his voice down.
āYour birthday present.ā Pacho shrugs, like kissing him at his own birthday party where hundreds of people are right outside is the most sensible thing. āWhy else did you insist on talking in private?ā
āTo talk business?ā Heās furious but also completely stunned. Did Pacho seriously think he spent a month planning this party just to sleep with him?!
āThat can wait.ā Pacho leans in again. āCome on, I thought we went over your shy phase the first time.ā
āOr the first three times.ā
He doesnāt know which is more deadly, the smooth whisper against his ear or the hot breath brushing his neck.
āI, we shouldnātā¦ā He tries to back away but his legs hit the bench, where people sit and listen to the priest on Sundays, with a sculpture of Jesus right above their heads.
āWe shouldnāt.ā Pacho presses him down on the bench with surprising raw strength. āThatās exactly why you canāt stop.ā
In Miguelās imagination heās fighting, kicking the Colombian hard in the stomach and watching him squirm in pain on the floor. In reality, he lies on the wooden bench with a hard cock, and watches Pacho unbuckle his belt, pulling down his tailored dress pants.
He hates that sometimes his body doesnāt obey his mind. He hates it even more that Pacho is right here to witness it, every single time.
Pacho plants a soft kiss on his dripping tip. He shivers, holding back a moan.
āDonāt make a sound or theyāll hear us.ā
āItās fine. The music outside is loud.ā
The Colombian chuckles, somehow sounding innocently amused right next to his throbbing cock. āBut you can be pretty loud too, as far as I remember.ā
Miguel answers that by roughly pushing his head down.
He feels the tight ring of muscles relax seamlessly around him. For some reason, Pacho is never taken by surprise this way, as if heās always ready to suck a cock, just like heās always prepared for everything else.
He slowly lets out a long, silent sigh, staring up at the beautiful artworks on the ceiling under the dim light.
Do angels in heaven ever feel this good? Are they allowed to? Is pleasure just another form of greed?
Miguel closes his eyes, all abstract thoughts surrendering to real physical pleasure.
Thereās something even Pacho doesnāt know. He isnāt doing this because itās some forbidden fruit. But because for a few moments like right now, he can indulge in the illusion that nothing else matters, that the world can burn as long as Pachoās skillful tongue is wrapped around his cock.
Written for Narcos Fandom Smut Alphabet Day 2: Bound & Begging.
āYouāre good with these.ā Amado tries to move his fingers around, but there isnāt much wiggle room inside the knot. As far as heās concerned, heās bound to this king sized bed for as long as his captor pleases.
āIāve had practice.ā Pacho runs a hand down his bare chest, still wearing the black onyx ring, and Amado feels every bit of its texture, firm and smooth, unyielding.
Practice in bed or cells? Is he a lover or prisoner? Maybe both, or neither, and it doesnāt even matter at this moment. All it matters is heās at the mercy of Pacho, in more ways than one, and he has no one to blame.
He got himself into this position.
āPachoā¦ā
āShh,ā the Colombian pinches his nipple, hard enough to leave a bruise. āI didnāt say you could talk.ā
He bites down the moan that almost escaped his throat. Sometimes Pacho loves hearing him making sounds, but this is definitely not one of those times.
āYou surprised me, Amado.ā The hand slowly travels down his torso, achingly slow. āYou know I donāt like surprises, not in business.ā
This feels like a good time to explain why he took a new route to move the last shipment and why that didnāt work out. He had all the good intentions, but in their business intentions donāt matter, only results do. So he keeps quiet as Pacho told him to, and deals with the consequences.
Suddenly thereās a tight grip on his hard cock. He lets out a small yelp, his throbbing desire screaming for more. Be it pleasure or pain, reward or punishment; anything is better than this drown out uncertainty.
āYou want it, donāt you? The Lord of the Skies, always wanting more, trying new things, never satisfiedā¦ā Pacho smiles, seductive and mischievous, eyes sparkling with a cruel excitement. āBut why should I still give you what you want after thisā¦disappointment?ā
Amado swallows. This is the one chance to make his case, to keep his relationship with Cali, and more importantly with Pacho, if heās honest with himself.
āAccidents happen, but still, you know no one else can move nearly as much as I do. I promise you that.ā
āI believe you.ā Pacho gently touches the rope around his wrist, soothing his scratched skin. āBut thatās not really what weāre talking about here, is it?ā
āThen tell me what you want.ā Amado whines, slowly losing his patience to frustration and overwhelming desire. āJust tell me, Pachito, please, no more games.ā
āNo, you tell me. Tell me why I should still trust you enough to let you in my bed. Tell me why you, and no one else deserves a second chance.ā
He opens his mouth to speak, but a hand claps around his jaw, tilting his chin up.
āActually, donāt tell me.ā Pacho moves his hand down and closes his fingers around his neck. A final warning.
āI canāt bring someone into your clan right now.ā Paz takes another step closer. Now the blue helmet is right in front of his own. āBut if you want, it would be my honor to have your clan join my House.ā
Rating: General Audience
Paring: Paz/Din
Words: 4,277
About three weeks after the duel, Din can finally put on his full armor again. The wounds on his shoulder and back have healed nicely, leaving him two pink new scars.
Paz helped him to take off his bandage for the last time this morning. He stopped needing help a while ago, but decided not to disrupt their routine if Paz didnāt mention it first. Maybe the other mandalorian still felt guilty, and he enjoyed the kindness too much to put a stop to it.
It has never been this nice between them. They can have conversations without turning them into arguments or fights. Occasionally they can even make some jokes without irritating each other. He doesnāt know if he can call Paz a friend yet, but they are getting there.
Din takes one last look in the small mirror. He can only see from his chest above, but still, watching his body covered in the familiar silver beskar brings a deep sense of tranquility. Itās like growing back a layer of his own skin.
*
Din opens the door and steps out, already hearing Paz training with the armorer. The sound of beskar clicking with the Darksaber isnāt like anything heās ever heard. Itās both harsh and harmonious, like the battle cry from two lovers.
āYou have improved considerably, but you are still holding back.ā
Paz remains silent, which is an acknowledgement in itself.
āMany emotions can weaken you against the blade,ā the armorer approaches the larger mandalorian. Her smaller frame doesnāt diminish her commanding presence. āAs Iāve told you, fear is the worst of them all.ā
āThen perhaps I can help.ā Din steps on the narrow metal bridge. He doesnāt know what Paz fears, but if thereās one thing that Paz isnāt afraid of, itās him.
The armorer turns to him. āAre you fully healed?ā
āI am.ā
āGood, then you can resume your training.ā
āI would like to train with Paz Vizsla,ā He looks at the Darksaber in Pazās hand, and then nods to the armorer, āwith your permission.ā
āThatās not a good idea.ā Paz interrupts, āyou just recovered, and you have no weapon to counter this blade.ā
āBeskar armor is the best defense against it.ā
Paz takes a small step back and slowly studies him from head to toe, like heās trying to make sure if thereās someone else under the armor.
āAlor, please tell Din Djarin he has lost his mind.ā
āItās a bold suggestion,ā the armorer gives him a long, thoughtful glance, ābut not without reason.ā
Paz looks between them incredulously. āYou canāt be serious. This blade almost killed you last time!ā
āAnd you didnāt let it.ā Din steps forward. āIf you could stop it then, you can stop it now.ā
āThis is a fair point, but you do need a weapon other than your armor.ā The armorer puts an end to their disagreement, and signals him to follow her to the forge.
Din has seen all her tools, but hasnāt touched any of them except the hammer, which was used as a symbol of order during their covert meetings. Only the armorer has the right to forge tools, and for any other mandalorian, holding them even for a brief amount of time is a great honor.
He watches her open the cabinet and takes out a long stick. Maybe it has another name, but the only thing he knows is that the stick is used to push large pieces of beskar into the forge.
She offers it to him in silence. He bows, and then accepts it with both hands.
*
When Din walks back to the bridge, Paz is standing rigidly on the other end with the Darksaber in his hand, but itās not activated.
āI still think this is a bad idea.ā
āI know.ā He says, getting into the right stance. āBut alor was right. If you know whatās distracting you, you need to resolve it.ā
Paz remains still for quite a while, and Din wonders if this is his way of saying no. But eventually Paz adjusts the Darksaber in his palm, and ignites it.
They walk towards each other, slow and steady. Din feels his strong heartbeats, slightly elevated, pumping hot blood throughout his entire body, from chest to fingertips. Thereās not a single strand of fear, only excitement.
The Darksaber clashes with his beskar stick, right above his helmet. He grunts and tightens his grasp, right leg stepping back to offer more support. The blow felt stronger than his own, and certainly way more powerful than Gideonās.
Paz pulls back, and then immediately comes for his left side. He rotates the stick, just in time to meet the blade again. Thankfully itās long enough.
He pushes down on the other end of the stick, trying to move Pazās blade with leverage, but the other mandalorian doesnāt move, not even an inch. Din feels his eyes widen. Paz is stronger than him, but definitely not this strong.
This has to be the Darksaber.
Their visors meet, and the gaze holds a little bit longer than necessary. Din takes advantage of the brief distraction and does a full spin, using the momentum of his entire bodyās movement to throw Paz off balance.
Then he takes two quick steps forward, holding the stick out directly at Pazās neck. A part of him wishes it was a spear to make his attack more threatening, but itās also a good thing that the stick is unlikely to cause serious injury.
Only gaining half of his balance back, Paz barely manages to knock the stick away, which leaves his broad chest and abdomen open. Din smiles, charging forward with a series of quick strikes. He knows from experience that Paz wonāt be able to block them all.
That is what happens first, the other mandalorian struggling to counter each strike, the Darksaber looking heavier with each movement. He can taste the sweetness of victory on the tip of his tongue.
But then something changes. He canāt tell what exactly, but he can sense it, just like how he sensed it last time, like the very definition of danger creeping around him, making the hair on his back stand up.
The edge of the Darksaber glows brighter for an instant, like a blink, but itās over so fast that Din thinks he might have imagined it.
The next thing he knows, the Darksaber spins 180 degrees in the blink of an eye, clashing with his stick so hard that it knocks him back several steps.
He takes a hold of the stick with both hands, using it to balance himself so he doesnāt lose his footing. Then the Darksaber starts attacking him, faster than Paz has ever been yet equally strong, if not more.
He feels his palms sweat inside the gloves, fingers start getting numb after each impact. A strand of nervousness rises in his chest. He doesnāt know how well Paz can control the Darksaber now. Even if he wonāt be killed, he canāt be completely certain that this wonāt turn into another accident, and he really doesnāt want to get stabbed by that thing again.
Din blocks another attack right above his chest. He sees the blade moving down, so he shifts the stick to his abdomen, preparing for the next move. But then the Darksaber stops midair, and before he can understand whatās happening, it moves back up to his chest, clashing with the beskar armor.
Din hears a pained groan escaping his throat as the air gets knocked out of his lungs. It feels like a rock just hit him square in the chest, hard enough for him to see stars for a second.
He falls back on the metal ground, the stick almost slips from his fingers, but he manages to clutch it, holding it tightly above himself to prepare for another blow.
He sees Pazās large frame looming over him. The Darksaber raises.
He holds the stick out.
The Darksaber deactivates. Paz holds out his left hand.
Din blinks at the sight, confused by this turn of events. The fight isnāt over yet. No one has yielded. As far as he can tell, neither of them are even injured. But Paz seems to think otherwise, so thereās no point in keeping his defensive stance on the ground. He takes Pazās hand and gets up.
āAre you ok?ā
āIām good.ā He briefly checks if thereās any damage on the beskar stick, although he knows thatās impossible. āThat was impressive.ā
āIt was, indeed.ā The armorer speaks, startling both of them. She gives Paz an acknowledging nod. āThat was your best fight with the blade yet.ā
āReally?ā Din feels a rush of joy. Itās great when he wins, but to help someone else reach their potential brings another kind of pride. He gives Paz a firm squeeze on the upper arm without thinking. āI told you it was a good idea.ā
The large muscle immediately tenses up under his touch. Thankfully the armorer speaks again, just in time to break the awkwardness.
āTake a break for now. Wielding the force can be draining. You might feel it later. And you,ā she then turns to him, āyou just recovered today. That was enough training for you.ā
He didnāt miss her slightly stern tone, and frankly he deserves the warning based on his track record.
āAs you wish, alor.ā He offers the beskar stick back to her with both hands.
She takes it and walks off the bridge, returning to her forge.
*
āYou improved fast. Itās only been three weeks.ā Din leans back on a pillar at the side of the bridge. He doesnāt know if Paz would answer his question, but heās too curious not to ask. āHow did you make itā¦listen to you?ā
Paz tucks the saber back to his belt. āItās easier than you think. We were just going about it the wrong way.ā
āHow come?ā
āI tried to focus on what I wanted, but it distracted me with what I didnāt want.ā
Din nods, knowing exactly what Paz meant.
āBut once I focused on what I didnāt want, it worked with me to prevent those things from happening.ā
He frowns, ābut isnāt that fear? I thought seeking power from fear would lead you down the dark path.ā
āMaybe, but thereās a difference between fear and caution, but itās a fine line.ā Paz glances at the forge, and Din just knows it must have been the armorer who told him that.
āWhat is your caution then?ā
Paz visibly stills at that, and Din bites his lip. He probably shouldnāt have asked such an intrusive question.
He was about to apologize when Paz answered.
āIf I canāt control the blade, it will hurt the people I donāt want to hurt again.ā
Din hears himself inhale, almost like a gasp. He presses his back tighter against the pillar behind him, suddenly feeling cornered.
āI didnātā¦ā He stutters, āI mean, thatās a noble cause. I can see why it works.ā
Paz tilts his head slightly but doesnāt say anything, which makes him want to say more just to fill the silence but there are no words in his brain.
āI need to go,ā he hurries to make an excuse, the first thing he can think of, āI need to do some maintenance on my weapons, havenāt touched them in a while.ā
Thatās not a lie. Itās just not as urgent as he makes it to be.
He turns to walk off the bridge before Paz can respond.
*
Din hears a knock on the door when heās finishing up reassembling his blaster for the eighth time.
He canāt pretend he isnāt here. Thereās nowhere else to hide.
āCome in.ā
Paz closes the door behind him a lot more softly than usual, and stops a few steps from him, standing straight. āI have a proposition.ā
āOk?ā Din unconsciously tightens his grip on the blaster, but then decides to put it down, not wanting to send the wrong message.
āIāve been thinking about what you said that day about your clan, and how it wouldnāt be a clan with only one person left.ā
āWeāve talked about that, havenāt we? A clan remains even when its members are scattered.ā Din smiles while quoting Pazās words. āYou were right.ā
āThat is true, but I am suggesting something else.ā Paz takes a step forward and takes a deep breath, loud enough for his helmetās audio sensor to pick up. āIf you want something more, someone who is here.ā
What exactly is Paz asking? There are only three ways to grow a clan, by having children, taking in foundlings, orā¦wait. No, no way.
āPaz, no. Wait!ā He speaks before he can stop himself. āAre you asking me toā¦ā He canāt even say the next words out loud. Are you asking me to marry you?!
āTo what?ā Paz sounds equally confused, but then suddenly makes a half gasping sound, and lets out a sharp, awkward laugh. āNo! Iām not asking you to take the riduurok, Din!ā
āOh, ok.ā Din exhales heavily, his heartbeat gradually slowing down. Thereās also sourness in his chest, but itās barely noticeable, so he brushes it off. āWhat is it then?ā
āRight, I canāt bring someone into your clan right now.ā Paz takes another step closer. Now the blue helmet is right in front of his own. āBut if you want, it would be my honor to have your clan join my House.ā
Din feels his heart taking a strong beat, rushing all the blood to his head, making him dizzy, his cheeks flushed. āYou are inviting me to join House Vizsla?ā
āAs I said, I donāt know where other Vizslas are, but we are a big House, and they are somewhere in the galaxy.ā Paz takes a firm hold of the Darksaber on his belt. āOne day, we can bring them all back together, and I would like you to be a part of that.ā
Din licks his dry lips. His voice comes out hoarse. āWhy?ā
āWhat do you mean?ā
āLook, I know things have been better between us lately, and Iām happy about that.ā Din tries to find the best words. He doesnāt want to lose their newly found friendship. āBut inviting someone to pledge their clan to your House? That is the highest form of respect and recognition.ā
āAnd you donāt think I have that for you?ā
He remembers the time when Paz called him a coward and tried to take off his helmet, the debilitating pain when the Darksaber buried into his shoulder.
But then he thinks about the large hand pulling him up earlier, the concern in Pazās deep voice asking if he was ok.
Heās been wanting to ask this for a very long time. āDo you?ā
āI do.ā Paz answers without hesitation. āYou are one of the strongest warriors I have ever seen. You have been providing for our covert as the beroya for over a decade. You risked your life saving a foundling, and you have always followed the creed from the day you put on your helmet.ā
Paz takes his hand earnestly.
Dinās heart drops.
āDin Djarin, it would be my honor if your clan would join House Vizsla.ā
āI canāt.ā Itās suddenly hard to breathe inside the helmet and he wants to choke. āIām sorry, Iā¦I canāt, Paz.ā
The large hand stills around his, and then slowly drops. āI see.ā
āNo, Paz. Itās notā¦ā
āDin, itās ok. Itās your right to refuse.ā
āNo, itās not that.ā
āDin, itās ok, really.ā Paz takes a step back, shaking his head. āYou donāt need a reason.ā
āI took off my helmet.ā
He can hear himself breathing, ragged and elevated, in and out, in and out, but thereās not enough air. His chest tightens, heart beating violently trying to pump enough blood to sustain his failing body. He stumbles back and falls onto the bed.
āTwice, actually. Iāve been keeping it a secret.ā It sounds like a whisper, almost a sob, but his face is numb and doesnāt know if thereās any tears. āBut by creed, youāre now the Mandāalor, and I canāt bring this shame to your House. Iām sorry.ā
For a while, their surroundings disappeared from his senses. The only thing left is his breathing, in and out, in and out, getting increasingly irregular.
āWhy?ā
Heās never heard Paz like that, confused and hurt. Betrayed.
āThe first time was to save Grogu. I had to scan my face to get the coordinates of Gideonās cruiser.ā
He should look at Paz, face the disappointment and rage from a true mandalorians. He should bear the consequences of his own wrongdoing. But he canāt, his head is all of a sudden too heavy for his weak neck.
āAnd the second?ā
āBefore he left with the Jedi, heā¦wanted to see me.ā Din shuts his eyes. Even now he can still feel Groguās tiny hand on his cheek. āI had to say goodbye.ā
āSo both times, you did it on your own free will.ā
Din sees a drop of water falling on his gloved hand. So he has been crying. Another sign of weakness.
āIāll leave by the end of the day, and you canā¦ā
The thought alone brings a wave of gut-wrenching pain through this body. But he has to. This is The Way. He tightens his hands into fists, and forces himself to look up through blurred vision.
āYou should take my armor.ā
Paz takes a small step back as if he was physically struck by that statement. In the midst of overbearing agony, Din feels a sense of confusion. Thatās what should happen to mandalorians who broke the creed. Paz out of everyone should know that.
āNot now, I need some time to think.ā
āā¦I donāt understand.ā He broke the creed. Whatās there to think about?
āJust shut up and give me some time!ā Paz snaps, but then takes a quick glance at the door and lowers his voice, āyou never told me anything, for now, understood?ā
No, he doesnāt understand at all. Why does Paz want to keep it a secret? Why isnāt Paz telling him to leave now?
Paz doesnāt seem satisfied with his silence. āUnderstood?ā
He nods, although he still doesnāt.
Paz walks out, eerily calm on the surface, doesnāt even slam the door.
*
Din should have asked how much time Paz needed. Itās been over six standard hours, and he hasnāt left his room, barely even gotten up from bed.
Earlier he went to the fresher for a while to take off his helmet and stare into the mirror, trying to get used to the sight of his own face. He was going to live like that moving forward after all. But he didnāt last nearly as long as he wanted. His face seemed wrong, naked, strange. If he didnāt even want to see it himself, how could he expose it to everyone, all the time?
Itās already past dinner time and heās not hungry. He canāt eat, canāt sleep. If Paz doesnāt come back by tomorrow morning, heās going to confess to the armorer. Maybe he should just do it now. What news can Paz possibly bring him? The result wonāt change. Waiting only prolongs his suffering.
Or maybe thatās what Paz is doing, although he really doesnāt want to believe it now, not anymore.
He wants to scream, or punch something.
Then the door opens.
He stands up from the bed so quickly that his vision goes black for a second.
Paz shuts the door behind them carefully and walks towards him. The bed is right behind him. He canāt back away.
āIām not going to tell alor.ā
āā¦What?ā
āI thought about it. What you did isnāt forgivable by the creed, but hereās the thing.ā Paz carefully places a hand on his pauldron. āI thought it would make me see you differently, but I donāt.ā
āWhy?ā He feels like heās been asking the same questions, but he canāt think of anything else to say.
āThere have been a few others from our covert. Apostates.ā
The word makes him shake a little. He tenses his muscles to force it down, as Paz continues.
āSome of them got their helmets removed in battle, because they were not stronger warriors than their enemies. Some of them couldnāt resist the temptation of lust or something else. But what you didā¦ā
The large hand shifts from his pauldron to the upper arm where itās unprotected by armor. The hold is firm and soothing.
āI tried to justify how it makes you a lesser person, but it doesnāt.ā
Din feels dizziness spread from his head to the entire body, like heās floating in the air. Itās a surreal experience, hearing something so wonderful about himself from Paz, the one person he used to not like, or even respect in the covert.
But he doesnāt miss the choice of words. It doesnāt make him a lesser person.
āBut it does make me not a mandalorian anymore.ā
He smiles bitterly. It only makes it worse, knowing another beautiful thing right before heās about to lose it forever.
āIt does.ā Paz agrees, but doesnāt move away. āBut I might have a solution.ā
āFor me to atone? The only way to atone is by bathing in the living waters under the mines on Mandalore.ā
āThat is true, but the mines have been destroyed. Look, this is not an atonement exactly, more like a workaround.ā
Paz slides the hand down his arm, until their hands meet. Din hesitates before taking it. There arenāt supposed to be any workarounds for the creed.
From what he can tell, Paz also looks very nervous, and a little unsure, which is completely out of character for him.
Din mentally braces himself to hear whatever comes next, for better or worse.
āDo you remember what you thought I was asking earlier?ā
Din has to take a little while just to understand the question.
āTheā¦the riduurok you mean?ā
āYes, hear me out.ā Paz grabs his hand tighter when he tries to pull away. āThink about it this way, if you are exiled, and then we take the riduurok, you will get a chance to swear into the creed again. But we can justā¦keep the messy middle part to ourselves.ā
Din can practically feel his jaw on the ground. No way Paz is offering this. The riduurok is sacred. Itās an unbreakable bond formed with mutual love and commitment. It cannot be offered as some logistical tool.
āAre you hearing yourself?ā
āYes? I practiced it several times before coming here.ā
āPaz! This is insane!ā He yanks his hand free and takes a few steps away. āLook, I am incredibly touched by all this, but you canātā¦we canāt take the riduurok for that reason.ā
āThen how about other reasons?ā Paz urges him calmly. Dank Farrik, he must have really hit the bottom if Paz is the calmer one between them. āHow about the same reasons I gave you when I asked you to join my House? You didnāt even have to tell me the truth earlier. You did it to protect my honor.ā
āAs I should.ā
āBut not everyone would.ā
āThatās not...ā He sighs heavily and stops pacing around. Was he pacing around earlier? āPaz, think about this. A riduurok is unbreakable. We will be married until death. Us, together until we die! Is that really what you want?ā
Paz has the audacity to shrug. āI wouldnāt say itās on the top of my list, but I donāt mind it nearly as much as you think.ā
Without thinking, Din almost said ābut I mind it very muchā.
He stops himself, becauseā¦does he mind? He doesnāt actively want it, and certainly wasnāt thinking about it at all until this very moment. But he doesnāt hate the idea. He would have three weeks ago. He doesnāt now.
āLet me make this simple for you. Which one do you prefer? Take the riduurok with me, or go to Mandalore and die trying to find the living water?ā
āThat is the worst proposal Iāve ever heard.ā
āHow many have you heard?ā
Fine, thatās a fair point.
āIf we do this, itās real.ā He canāt believe heās actually considering it now. āIt becomes real once we tell the armorer and say the vows, no matter why we chose to do it.ā
āI know.ā
āYouāve really thought this through.ā
āI have.ā
He has no other reasons to object.
āOk then.ā
Now Paz is the one whoās taken aback. āIs thatā¦a yes?ā
Din stands in front of the large mandalorian, and looks up at his visor. āYes.ā
He hears a soft gasp, and he chuckles behind the helmet. It feels ridiculous, yet more serious than almost anything else. Marriage is one of the most sacred commitments in mandalorian culture.
Paz tentatively takes a hold of his arm, arms, both sides this time. Din holds his breath, leaning in slightly. He feels like he should do something with his hands too, but not sure what. Theyāve never touched like this before.
He never touched anyone like this before.
He relaxes his body and closes his eyes.
The sound is almost inaudible as their helmets gently touch. He can hear Pazās breathing mixed with his own, feel the rise and fall of Pazās chest behind the armor. His hands find their way to the sides of Pazās broad waist, the parts where armors donāt cover, sensing the heat over layers of clothing.
The strangest thing is that it doesnāt feel strange at all, to be wanted like this, to find peace in someone elseās arms.
He feels safe and accepted.
He feels worthy.
P.S. This is the end of their story, but if thereās a high interest, I can consider writing a bonus chapter for the wedding night. Let me know if you want itā¤ļø
@mandaloria314 @theydjarin @vanishedangels @cheesybadgers @bellinitini @anunhealthydoseofangst @lithdraug @ragnarvizsla (Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list)
Din watches Paz train with the Darksaber for the first time, and reminisces about his own journey with the legendary weapon.
Rating: General Audience
Paring: Paz/Din
Words: 3,167
For the first time in almost two decades, Din and Paz settle into a routine of peaceful coexistence.
He wakes up late in the morning, puts on his helmet and opens the door. Shortly after, Paz would come in to help him change his bandage. They donāt talk much, both focusing on the task at hand, so Paz can leave him alone to get dressed as soon as possible. He canāt put on any upper body armor yet, but he can wear his flight suit, thigh armor, boots, gloves and helmet. He likes to throw on the cloak too, just to feel more covered.
He spends most of the day sitting by the forge, helping the armorer with whatever she asks him to do. She never lets him lift anything too heavy, insisting that itās important for him to fully recover first. It feels vaguely patronizing, especially when he watches Paz move these heavy equipment around with ease.
However, he canāt blame them for their caution. His wounds have been healing, but for some reason he still feels exhausted everyday. Maybe thereās some internal damage he doesnāt know of, or maybe everything else he put his body through has finally caught up. He often gets sleepy soon after dinner, and Paz would silently help him with his bandage again before he goes to bed. He falls asleep fast, and wakes up late again the next morning.
*
Din understands resting is necessary in the recovery process, but he canāt help the sense of uselessness gradually building up, growing heavier each day in his chest, spreading to all muscles with every heartbeat.
Slowly, frustration grows into restlessness, and then a dangerous impulsiveness. Thatās when he knows he has to do something other than sitting purposelessly by the forge. But what? He canāt resume his regular training yet, not when his right arm hasnāt even gained back half of its mobility and strength. Even if he tries, heās pretty sure Paz will physically drag him back to his room.
āYou still havenāt trained with the Darksaber.ā The armorerās voice snaps him back to reality. He looks up confused, and realizes sheās talking to Paz whoās walking out from the training space.
Paz stops a few steps from the forge. Thereās an uncommon tension in his deep voice. āNo, I havenāt.ā
āWhat? Why?ā
Din bites his lower lip. Interrupting a conversation between the armorer and someone else is rude, but he was too surprised to stop the words from coming out of his mouth. Based on Pazās enthusiasm during their duel, Din assumed that he must have been playing with the sword everyday since he won it. But Paz hasnāt tried to wield it? Not even once?
The armorer gives him a brief look, silent and calm, but itās more than enough to make him stop whatever else he might say. Then she turns off the forge, takes her hammer and tongs, and gives Paz a little nod. āCome. Itās time to start.ā
*
For the first time, Din is neither defending himself against the Darksaber nor trying to wield it. Itās simply fascinating to watch the legendary sword in action from a bystanderās perspective.
Paz activates the Darksaber. Like most swords, it looks disproportionately small in Pazās hands, but size doesnāt diminish its commanding presence. Its glowing edge ignites the air around it, creating a deceptively soft halo around the deadly weapon.
āSolus.ā
The armorer gives her command. Paz lifts the saber with both hands and strikes. The blade comes straight at the armorerās helmet, powerful but too slow. She blocks it easily with her hammer.
Sparks fly into the air, each one can easily cause a nasty burn on naked skin. The sheer impact sends waves down the metal floor. He can feel vibration under his feet even from where heās standing.
He feels his heart racing, matching the throbbing rhythm on the floor. His breath gets hotter, as if some of those fire sparks flew under his helmet.
He wonders if this was what Paz felt that day, watching him train with the armorer, wielding the most formidable weapon known to mandalorian history.
He wonders if that was what made Paz decide to challenge him at that moment.
āTāad.ā āSolus.ā āEhn.ā āCuir.ā
Din listens to the armorer giving out familiar commands to Paz, and watches Paz increasingly struggle with each strike just like he did.
If he were to be honest, there is a hint of amusement in his heart. Itās nothing new. Over the years, he's always had a small desire to gloat whenever Paz was in trouble, although he rarely acted on it.
But right now, that tiny sense of mischievous joy is drowned by sadness.
Itās hard enough to know you are not enough, and itās cruel to hold the proof of that in your own hands.
Din watches in awe as the armorer counters another attack with her tongs, and strikes Paz hard on the chest with her hammer, knocking him off balance.
āYou are a lot stronger than this.ā She stands over the larger mandalorian on his knees. āYou are distracted.ā
Paz looks up from the ground, but not at the armorer whoās speaking to him. He glances past her, meeting Dinās visor across the long metal bridge.
Din feels his eyes widen. He canāt meet Paz in the eye behind their helmets, yet somehow he feels connected, seen, exposed in a way that he isnāt prepared for.
After a moment of peculiar silence, the armorer also turns to look at him. She doesnāt say a word, but thereās something extremely perceptive with the way she tilts her helmet.
Suddenly he wants to hide.
Din gives her a respectful nod and turns around. Behind him, the training soon resumes, somehow getting louder with each step he takes to walk away.
*
The best word to describe the structure of Glavis Ringworld would be polarizing. On one hand, if youāre on the top surface, you get perpetual sunlight from the small star in the middle. On the other hand, the substrata area faces the vast empty space, hidden within the boundless darkness of the universe.
Din hears heavy footsteps approaching from behind. He sighs and shifts his attention away from the stars.
Paz sits down next to him, close enough to have a private conversation, but far enough that they wonāt accidentally brush shoulders.
āShe wasnāt asking you to leave, you know.ā
āI know. I didnāt want to distract you.ā
āThatās not on you. Itās our own responsibility to ignore distractions in combat.ā
āThatās fair.ā He tries to make the conversation flow, but isnāt sure where this is going. āSo? How did it go?ā
āYou saw how it went.ā Paz gives him a little shrug. āAlor said I needed to learn to control it with my mind, not my strength.ā
āShe told me the same thing. Itās easier said than done, isnāt it?ā Din huffs, feeling truly amused. Now that the pressure isnāt on him, he can finally laugh about it. āBut who knows? Maybe youāll have an easier time. The sword was forged by your ancestors after all.ā
Din thought Paz would take the chance to talk more about Tarre Vizsla, but surprisingly, the often prideful mandalorian doesnāt seem interested to talk about his glorious family history today.
āShe said something else too, after you left.ā Pazās deep voice sounds even heavier than usual, almost like a sigh. āIf you know whatās distracting you, you need to resolve it.ā
Din feels the collar of his cloak getting tighter. He pulls on it and takes a deep breath. āLook, you won it from me in fair combat, and I have no interest in challenging you again.ā
He turns to look at Paz, trying to show how much he means it when he speaks his next words. If he isnāt worthy, someone else must be.
āThe Darksaber is yours. I support your claim.ā
āI appreciate that.ā Thereās a long pause. He can see Pazās broad shoulders tense up under thick beskar armor. āBut thatās not whatās distracting me.ā
āItās not?ā Now heās really confused. What else could it be?
āWhen I fought you for itā¦ā Paz stops mid sentence like he doesnāt know what to say, which has never happened before. If anything, Paz usually has the opposite problem.
āWhat about it?ā
āYou still remember what I said.ā
āOh, that.ā Din slowly inhales. The wound on his shoulder aches as his chest expands. āAre you trying to say you didnāt mean it?ā
Thereās a long silence, then a heavy sigh. āI did, at the time.ā
The dull ache turns into excruciating pain, like someone tore his wound open and stabbed him again at the same spot. He feels the air leaving his lungs, his blood turning cold, cold as the words he just heard.
āWhat do you need from me then?ā Din hates his own voice in his ears, hurt and ugly, distorted by the helmet. āTo tell you itās alright, so you can have your peace of mind?ā
āDin, thatās not what I meant. Let me finish.ā
āNo, you donāt need to finish.ā He interrupts Paz. Itās been almost two decades. Today is the day heās finally had enough. āJust tell me, what do you really want me to do? To disappear for good, so I can stop giving you problems? Stop distracting you?ā
āNo! What the kark are you talking about?!ā
āYou tried to kill me.ā Thereās a strange numbness on his tongue, his face, his fingertips. āThereās not much else to talk about.ā
āI wasnāt trying to kill you. I saved you from the Darksaber!ā
*
Din feels his throat tighten on its own, swallowing back all the vicious words heās about to say. His mouth hangs open but thereās no sound coming out. He would certainly look ridiculous now without the helmet.
From a short distance, the forge is burning with a low humming sound. There is no chance that the armorer didnāt just hear them yelling, but she doesnāt acknowledge it, and he really appreciates that.
He clears his throat and turns back to Paz, āwhat do you mean?ā
Paz scoffs, ānow you are letting me finish.ā
āDonāt push it.ā
For a moment, when silence falls upon them again, Din thinks this might be the end of their conversation. No answer, no closure, just another dead end added to their unresolved tension.
But then Paz begins to speak.
āThere isnāt much left of my house. I know some survived the purge, but I donāt know where they are. I knew the Darksaber was taken by the Empire, but didnāt know who had it, or where it went.ā
For some reason, that reminds him of his first time meeting Bo-Katan. āIām the last of my line,ā she said.
Every mandalorian understands loss, whether they come from a big house like Vizsla or Kryze, or from nowhere like him. But when loss is certain, at least it comes with closure, just like how he knows his parents died protecting him from the Empire, and his buir also died years later for the same purpose. He will always carry their lives with him, for as long as he lives.
Whatās worse is an uncertain hope, like back in Nevarro when the armorer told him maybe some of his vods survived, while he was staring down at a pile of empty helmets.
āSo when I saw the sword in your hands that day, and you couldnāt even honor it properlyā¦ā Paz keeps talking, pulling him back from his own thoughts. āMy mind slipped into a dark place when I looked at you. But it was a brief impulse, nothing more.ā
Din doesnāt know how to respond. To be fair, he is a little touched by this rare honesty between them. But what can he possibly say to a heartfelt explanation of why Paz had an impulse to kill him?
āCome on, Din. Donāt tell me youāve never felt that way.ā
āLike I want to kill you?ā He snorts, āsure, I got pretty close to it just now.ā
Paz lets out a frustrated grunt. āFine, so you know what I meant.ā
āOr that time in Nevarro when you tried to take off my helmet.ā Paz probably doesnāt need another example, but he just has to mention it. āBut no, itās not the same. I never acted on it.ā
Even with their hostile relationship, Din still sees Paz as a brother. Before Grogu, their covert had been his only family. He canāt ever imagine killing one of his own.
āMe neither, never wanted to.ā Paz reaches for the Darksaber on his belt, closing his fingers around it. āUntil I picked it up.ā
Din watches Paz clench and unclench his grip around the saber several times before finally taking a solid hold.
āWhen I turned it on for the first time, it feltā¦alive. It was connected to me, knew what I wanted, how I felt, like it wasā¦ā
āLike it was consuming you.ā He whispers to himself, before Paz could finish the sentence.
āYeah, like that.ā Paz ignites the Darksaber, but then quickly turns it back off. āAll I could feel was this intense rage, and hatred, like nothing else existed. Then the sword started moving on its own, coming for your neck.ā
Paz is drowned in the dark, stressful memory, but Din canāt help but feel a warmness spreading in his chest. It all makes sense now.
āYou tried to stop it.ā
āYes, but I couldnāt. It still hurt you.ā Heās never heard such heavy guilt in Pazās voice. āI let it hurt you.ā
āNo, you stopped it from doing something worse.ā Din moves in closer, and now their shoulders can almost brush. āYou said it yourself. It was coming for my neck. You moved it away.ā
āNot completely.ā
āFine, you stopped it partially. At least you didnāt hurt yourself with it like I did. Your family sword probably hated me before you even touched it.ā
From the way Paz gives him a blank stare, he knows the other man didnāt find the joke funny. Thatās fine, humor has never been the strong suit for either of them.
āLook, what I mean isā¦I understand.ā Din reaches into his pocket and takes out the little red and white package. āIāve missed him since he left with the Jedi, but when I held the Darksaber, it became unbearable.ā
āGrogu, is it? Your foundlingās name.ā Paz says gently, and Din loves how the name sounds in the larger mandalorianās deep voice.
āYeah, Grogu. I tried not to use the blade after a while. It wasā¦too much.ā
The Darksaber flooded his mind with beautiful memories, drowning him in longingness and sorrow. At some point, he caught himself starting to feel hatred towards the Jedi, towards himself. Then he stopped practicing with the blade altogether, and only used it in battles a few times when he had no other options.
āYou can still spend time with him. He will always be a mandalorian foundling.ā
āHeās with his own kind now, where he belongs.ā The shape of the small bag reminds him of Groguās large ears. Din brushes them softly with gloved fingertips. āAnd apparently, Jedis donāt allow attachments.ā
āI used to think that was nonsense, but maybe they have a good reason.ā Paz turns the Darksaber in his large palms. āThat was how the Empire started, right? Some Jedis couldnāt handle their emotions and went mad.ā
āWhat do you mean?ā
āā¦You donāt know?ā Paz manages to give him an incredulous look, even with the helmet on. āWhen a force sensitive gives into their attachments, they start to seek power from their emotions: fear, anger, hatred, until they lose themselves to the dark side.ā
āSo if we can feelā¦these emotions when we touch the Darksaber, are we force sensitive? Like the Jedi?ā
āI donāt know.ā Pazās visor meets his, a resigned agreement. āBut maybe we are both too weak to wield it.ā
āWell, if thatās true, now itās your responsibility to hold onto it until someone else wins it from you.ā Din shrugs, āitāll probably be Bo-Katan.ā
āOh, kark no!ā
āWhatās your problem with her?ā He laughs out, āshe is a very strong warrior from what I can tell.ā
āTheir House has fallen from the Way.ā Paz tucks the Darksaber back to his belt. āSheās not a mandalorian anymore, according to our creed.ā
The smile fades from his face.
Bo-Katan doesnāt hide her face, so sheās not a true mandalorian in their eyes.
And neither is he, not anymore.
āIs she your friend?ā
āMaybe not.ā Din answers honestly. Heās pretty sure she doesnāt like him very much, especially not after he took the Darksaber. āBut she saved me and my foundling once on Trask, and also joined me to rescue him from Moff Gideon.ā
āAnything for the foundlings.ā Paz sits straight. āMaybe she is a better mandalorian than I thought.ā
āThis is the Way.ā
āThis is the Way.ā
*
Usually this would mark the end of a conversation between mandalorians, but it doesnāt feel the same today. Thereās no conclusion or consolation.
āWhen I got my signet, alor said we are a clan of two.ā Heās not wearing the pauldrons now, but he can vividly picture the mudhorn shape when he closes his eyes. āHow is it still a clan if only one person is left?ā
āYour foundling isnāt dead, Din.ā A large hand claps his shoulder. āA clan remains, even when its members are scattered. You should know this.ā
āLike the creed?ā
āLike the creed.ā
Din leans into the hand, just a little, just enough to feel the warmth over layers of clothing.
Heās not ready to lose this too. The creed is all he has.
āYouāre right.ā He says, pretending that he still has a right to the creed, like he still belongs. āThank you.ā
To his surprise, the hand on this shoulder doesnāt immediately move away. Rather, it slowly moves along his back, until it gently stops at his injured right shoulder.
Din holds his breath, doesnāt dare to move. He can feel Pazās arm touching his back, like itās holding him from the side. Theyāve never been this close before in a non-confrontational manner.
āIs it time to change your bandage again?ā
āYeah, I think so.ā He responds quickly, hoping that will make Paz move his arm away.
āCome on then.ā
Paz stands up first, the arm slipping from his shoulder. He exhales. Then a gloved hand appears again, this time in front of him, ready to be taken.
He looks up at Paz, thinking back to the few times he received this nice gesture, when they were sparring in front of the foundlings as a demonstration, so they had to keep some basic decency.
No oneās watching now. Maybe the armorer is, but she is no stranger. Thereās no reason to pretend.
Din smiles and takes Pazās hand, letting himself be pulled up.
At least he still has this, for now.
@mandaloria314 @theydjarin @vanishedangels @cheesybadgers @bellinitini @anunhealthydoseofangst @lithdraug @ragnarvizsla (Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list)
Din reluctantly accepts Pazās help again when he needs to redress his wounds.
Rating: General Audience
Paring: Paz/Din
Words: 1,967
The pain doesnāt get much better when Din wakes up again, and to make it worse, now heās also starving. He pushes himself up with his left hand, and takes the arm sling off his neck, carefully putting down his right arm.
Several red dots scatter on the neatly wrapped bandage on his shoulder. They look dark and dry, but he feels sticky underneath, which means itās time to redress the wound.
With an easy pull on the side of his waist, layers of white gauze fall apart, simple and efficient, like theyāve all been taught since they were children.
Din grabs a piece of clean cotton from the nightstand and gently wipes off leaked blood and old medicine. The stitch underneath is perfectly done. Manual stitches pretty much disappeared decades ago. Every standard med pack has automatic sutures for all kinds of injuries. Heās not sure if those count as mini droids. He tries not to think about it.
He tends the cut next to his arm with ease. Thereās nothing new, nothing different from what heās done by himself countless times. But the exit wound on his back is giving him a hard time. Itās an awkward angle to reach with his left hand, and when he finally touches it, he inevitably pulls the muscles around the wound in the front.
Itās been forever since he got stabbed all the way through.
Din drops the dirty cotton on the floor with a heavy sigh. He thinks both wounds are cleaned more or less, but dressing them will only be an even more annoying task. Besides, heās on the verge of passing out again if he doesnāt get something in his stomach right now.
Putting on a shirt and both boots with only his left hand is frustrating, but at least his pants are intact. Of course they are. He doubts Paz will take off his pants to save him even if he has a life-threatening injury on his thigh.
Tying up his shoes, Din stands up and walks to the door.
He opens the door, and immediately comes face to face with a familiar blue helmet.
Din almost jumps back out of instinct. Even Paz seems startled from the way his shoulders tense up.
They stare at each other in silence, only a few steps between them.
He clears his throat, āwhat are you doing here?ā
āTo check if youāre still alive. Itās been another day.ā
āā¦What?ā
Paz tilts his helmet slightly. āI warned you about the pills.ā
Dank Farrik! What are these green pills?! And why did Paz give him two?
āWell, Iām clearly alive.ā Din tries to push past him, but Paz moves in closer, completely blocking his way out.
āYou shouldnāt be up.ā Paz puts a hand on his good shoulder. āYou look like shit.ā
Din forces himself to take a deep breath, and then slowly exhale. Heās in no condition to fight.
āLook, Iām just going to get something to eat, alright? Get out of the way.ā
āGo back to bed. Iāll get it for you.ā The grip on his shoulder is unwavering, leading him back inside the room. āIf you pass out somewhere else, Iām not carrying you back again.ā
That actually makes Din think twice before protesting more. He still doesnāt want to acknowledge what happened when he was unconscious. Paz carrying him, undressing him, stitching him upā¦all of these feel out of place. They give him a weird feeling, like the tingling sensation on his fingertips before entering a difficult fight, an automatic bodily reaction to uncertainty.
āIāll be right back.ā Paz walks out into the hallway after seeing him sit down on the bed. This couldnāt be more embarrassing. He feels like a small kid being parented.
At least Paz didnāt ask him what he wanted to eat. He isnāt sure if he could handle the awkwardness of that. Itās unlikely that they have anything other than rations anyway.
Thatās why heās quite surprised when Paz comes back later with a sandwich.
*
It looks freshly made, or as fresh as they can manage. The meat smells nice, the bread feels warm, and even the vegetables look irresistible although they likely came out of a can.
Din can feel his mouth water. Every part of his body screams with craving, and all he wants is to bite into it right now. But he canāt do that with Paz still standing here.
āThank you. Now can you leave me alone?ā That came out ruder than he intended, but heās not ungrateful. Heās just really hungry.
āYou took off your bandage.ā
āYeah? I needed to change it.ā
Paz glances at his right arm. āLooks like you didnāt finish.ā
āIāll finish later!ā Din doesnāt remember the last time he felt so exasperated. He really doesnāt know if Paz is genuinely concerned about his injury or intentionally doing this to torture him. āNow can you please leave, so I can take off my helmet to eat?ā
āYou canāt leave it open for too long. You can wait for a few more minutes.ā Paz takes the plate from his hand, puts it on the nightstand and starts gathering medical supplies.
Din watches the larger mandalorian from behind. Maybe he should feel something nice and warm inside, being taken care of by someone, but he doesnāt. It literally takes all his willpower to not punch the man right in the helmet.
Over the years, decades at this point, there were times when Din wondered if they could be friendlier with each other. He had tried to make efforts, but whatever he did, it always ended up backfiring. He used to believe it was all Pazās fault, but what if it wasnāt?
Maybe they just naturally donāt know how to be nice to each other. Maybe some people are destined to never get along.
āWhat are you waiting for?ā Paz sits down next to him on the bed and nods at his shirt. āI thought you wanted to be done with it quickly.ā
Knowing thereās no way to get out of it, Din sighs and starts to unbutton his shirt with his left hand. As each clip opens, he feels a wave of heat gradually spread across his body, from chest to stomach, extending to his neck and face, safely hidden under the helmet.
They are warriors. Exposing their bodies when tending to each otherās injuries isnāt forbidden by the creed, but itās still a rare occasion for him. Besides, there is something extremely inappropriate and humiliating about revealing his vulnerable flesh to Paz, who was responsible for his injury in the first place.
Thereās nothing more to it. He tells himself. Maybe Paz really is trying to help him. He can get his wounds taken care of quickly, and then he can finally eat that sandwich.
Paz applies a layer of light yellow ointment on both cuts. Din grits his teeth to stop himself from flinching.
āIt would have hurt less if you didnāt almost pull your stitches open.ā
āWell, it wasnāt easy to reach the one on my back without pulling the one at the front.ā
Paz stops what heās doing briefly, but then silently continues. Din watches large gloved hands working skillfully on his wounds, surprisingly gentle.
āLook, about yesterday, I shouldnāt have saidā¦what I said.ā Itās less of an apology than an explanation, but he tries. āYou asked for a duel, I agreed to it. Injury and death were part of the risk. By creed you didnāt do anything wrong.ā
Paz throws away pieces of used cotton. āNever said I did.ā
āRight, so you know thereās nothing toā¦ā He watches Paz take out a syringe, and considers if he should ask about that first, but decides to tackle one issue at a time. āThereās nothing for you to feel bad about, if thatās what this is.ā
āItās not.ā Paz sticks the needle into a small bottle of bacta infusion. āItās our duty to help an injured vod. Thatās also in the creed.ā
The needle goes in his shoulder, right next to the stitches. He tightens his fist.
āThatās right.ā Why did he think there was anything else?
Paz wraps a thin layer of gauze around his torso and ties it at the side of his waist. āAll done. Iāll leave now. You can eat.ā
He watches in slight bewilderment as Paz gets up and starts walking, wasting no time as if a thank you was never expected.
āWait, thank you.ā Din looks up, meeting Pazās visor as he turns around. āThat was very kind of you.ā
Paz just nods and walks out of the door.
*
Din sits alone in the room, somehow doesnāt feel unbearably starving anymore. Eventually he takes off his helmet after a little while, and bites into the still warm sandwich. Itās nothing fancy, yet itās noticeably more flavorful than any ration bars heās had in the past several years. He could have made more simple meals like that for himself. Sometimes he would consider it, but then always ended up grabbing more ration bars.
It feels wrong to be out of his helmet now, even though he is alone. Ever since he revealed his face, he has been trying to keep the helmet on as much as he could, only taking it off very briefly to eat and clean, as if that could undo his transgressions.
At the same time, it also feels wrong to wear it. He has lost that right. He should have stopped wearing it the minute he broke the creed. He should have come back with his bare face and confessed to the armorer.
Whatās done is done. What difference does it make if heās just lying to himself and everyone else?
Only a weak man is unable to bear the consequences of his actions, he knows. But he canāt, not now.
Ever since he became the beroya, his whole life has been dedicated to service. But now the kid, Grogu, is not under his care anymore. He canāt lose whatās left of his covert too. Whatās the point of hunting or fighting if heās only doing it for himself?
*
Din puts down the empty plate. His eyes land on the little package again. The bloodstain has turned dark brown, disrupting the red and white pattern. He gently takes it into his palm, feeling the stainās rough texture on his fingertips.
He knows he probably shouldnāt use the sonic now, at least not on his upper body, but he goes into the small fresher anyway.
Waves of ultrasonic vibration run through his body. Many people say itās not as relaxing as a nice hot shower, but Din actually quite likes it. Something about its simplistic nature is comforting to him.
He feels his skin and hair get smoother as dried sweat gets cleaned off. Then he carefully holds the package close to the cleanser, watching the blood stain gradually disappear from the fabric.
Din waits until he gets out of the fresher to open the package. He prepares a wet cloth and starts wiping away a few small blood stains on the chain mail jacket. He wholeheartedly trusts everything forged by the armorer, but still, unreasonably, heās worried the ultrasonic waves can somehow damage its exquisite structure.
Din wonders what Grogu is doing right now, if heās giving the Jedi just as much trouble, if his training is going well.
Most of all, he wonders if Grogu still thinks of him sometimes.
Soon, heāll go pay him a visit, making sure heās safe and happy with the Jedi.
Then he will come back here to help rebuild their covert, to try fixing the damage heās caused, and hopefully with time, he can atone for all the wrong things heās done.
Soon, he hopes.
@mandaloria314 @theydjarin @vanishedangels @cheesybadgers @hausofmamadas @bellinitini @anunhealthydoseofangst @lithdraug (Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list)
I hope the top picture comes to pass, I saw the new episode where GROGU got his roundal chest piece and I hope GROGU gets more armor.....and a growth spurt XD
The duel for the Darksaber between Paz and Din takes an unexpected turn.
Rating: Mature (Canon Typical Violence)
Paring: Paz/Din
Words: 1,832
Din feels heat radiating from the Darksaber as it crashes into the metal pillar behind him, barely missing his shoulder. He pulls out his vibroblade and carefully circles the pillar, using it as cover. His muscles cramp when he moves, still hurting from Paz throwing him like a ragdoll earlier.
Another powerful blow comes right at his head. Din quickly ducks, the Darksaber brushing his helmet, sending fire sparks flying. He grunts, taking the chance to quickly go behind Paz and slash the back of his leg, throwing Paz off balance for a brief moment.
Din canāt compete with the heavy infantrymanās strength, but heās faster and more precise. That has always been his advantage.
Lucky for him, the Darksaber is giving Paz a hard time too. Every time Paz wields it, the larger mandalorian seems to struggle with it just the same. This tiny delay in action might be unperceivable to untrained eyes, but it gives Din just enough time to anticipate the swordās exact trajectory.
Paz lifts the saber again, aiming for Dinās left side, which leaves his own right side open. Din holds his breath. He can dodge it and get behind Paz again, and this time, if heās as fast as he thinks, he can hold the vibroblade to Pazās neck.
Tightening his grip on the small knife, Din makes his move. Then he notices somethingās wrong almost immediately. The Darksaber shakes. Not caused by the faltering of the hand wielding it, but more like the sword is suddenly moving on its own, twisting itself into a different direction to chase him.
Din stops mid-motion, awkwardly trying to adjust his steps to dodge the relentless blade.
You canāt fight against the blade. It will win.
The armorer is always right. He should have known.
The Darksaber goes through the delicate spot on his right shoulder, between the pauldron and chest plate, nailing him to the pillar behind. Din has been stabbed before, but thisā¦this is different.
Itās not like the sharp pain from a regular knife, but an excruciating burning sensation. It paralyzes him, seizing his body from inside, all his muscles incapacitated in an instant by some mysterious force.
He canāt move, canāt think, consumed in a state of utter helplessness.
The vibroblade slips from his numb fingers, making a brisk sound as it drops on the metal ground.
Across from him, Paz also seems stunned, holding the Darksaber in place at a weird angle, like heās also unable to move.
Din suddenly feels suffocated and opens his mouth to breath. A pained choking sound escapes his throat, and for some reason, that snaps Paz out of whatever shocked state heās in.
The Darksaber deactivates. His legs give out.
The world becomes hazy. Thereās a growing warm wetness spreading under his cuirass, some dripping down his arm. He doesnāt feel the burn anymore, just a dull pressure from gloved hands.
He sees Pazās blue helmet right in front of his visor, and then the armorerās golden one joins in. He hears them talking, but their words are slowly losing meaning.
āGroguā¦ā He grabs the hand on his shoulder. His voice sounds strained in his own ears, almost like a sob. āThe gift, make sure he gets itā¦ā
āStop talking, youāre fine! Give it to him yourself.ā
He wants to sit up and scream at Paz to kriffing listen to him just this once, but his grip is getting weaker, his vision is fading, and his words come out as a whipster.
āMake sure heāsā¦safeā¦pleaseā¦ā
The pressure on his shoulder is gone, replaced by a coolness. Is Paz yelling something?
He feels his hand slide down to the ground as he succumbs to darkness.
*
The first sense that comes back to Din is an unusual softness against his back. Itās not his undershirt. He knows that because he rarely takes off the undershirt, so he remembers what exactly the fabric feels like. That means heās not wearing it now.
He snaps his eyes open. Before he can even look around, the pain comes back. Waves of throbbing agony spread from his right shoulder, rushing through his entire body. He groans miserably, struggling to move, which only makes it worse.
āHey, easy.ā A hand gently presses on his chest. Din turns to the sound, facing Pazās blue helmet. Has Paz been watching him while he was unconscious? How long was he out?
āYou were lucky. The Darksaber cauterized the wound, so you didnāt lose a lot of blood.ā Paz slides a hand behind his back to help him sit up, and then hands him a cup of water with a straw in it.
Din glances at the straw, not sure what itās for. If this is about not taking off his helmet, he can lift it halfway to drink straight from the cup. Heās thirsty as hell.
His right arm is hanging off his neck, wrapped in an arm sling, so he reaches for the cup with his left hand, which he only notices now, is hooked up to an IV.
Hand still a little shaky, it takes him a few tries to stick the small straw into the bottom of his helmet and align it with his mouth. Paz has the decency not to mock him.
The cool liquid slides down his throat smoothly, alleviating the dry, burning sensation. Din clears his throat, finally feeling like he can talk.
āHow long was I out for?ā
āNot that long, about a day.ā
Din tries to put the empty cup on the small nightstand next to the bed, grunting as another wave of sharp pain shoots across his body.
āIs the pain bad?ā
āWhat do you think?ā
Paz fixes his gaze on him for a few seconds, and then silently takes the cup and walks across the room, opening a storage cabin on the wall.
āYou should go easy on those.ā Paz opens a bottle and takes out two eerily green pills heās never seen before. āOnce I took three, got knocked for almost a day.ā
Paz walks back to the bedside and hands him the pills. He swallows them dry before Paz could pour him another cup of water.
Paz holds the cup awkwardly for a little while, and then sets it down on the nightstand within his reach.
āDid youā¦do this?ā Carry me back? Patch me up? Stay here while I slept?
There are so many specific things he wants to ask about, and none of them makes sense.
āWho else could it be?ā Paz leans against the wall. āThere are only three of us here.ā
Technically it could also be the armorer, but Din would much rather have Paz take off his armor and dress his wound. The thought of their alor doing these things, seeing him vulnerable, a failure, a pretenderā¦ He doesnāt know if he can handle that.
Suddenly Pazās presence also feels stifling.
āThank you. Iām good now.ā Din says, a lie heās gotten incredibly good at telling over the years. āYou can leave if you want. You didnāt have to stay here this whole time.ā
āYouāre good? Is that so?ā Paz takes a few steps towards him, finally starting to look irritated. āDo you remember what you said? You were spilling out your last words, Djarin.ā
Din snaps to look at the nightstand where all his belongings are layed out. Thankfully, the neatly wrapped present is still here, now tainted with blood stains.
āSo? What is it to you, Vizsla?ā The fresh red color hurts his eyes. He looks up, aiming his gaze directly at Pazās visor. āI remember what you said too, you know.ā
The way Paz instantly stills sends a thrill down his spine, like the adrenaline rush whenever he draws the first blood in battle.
āFate has brought this blade back to my clan, and now, fate will end yours.ā Din repeats from memory, biting out every word. The viciousness in his voice surprises himself. He knows he shouldnāt be this flappable, usually he isnāt. But between the pain, the bloodstain and the Darksaber on Pazās belt, he feels a dam in his chest break loose, everything pouring out like a long overdue catharsis. He canāt hold it back, not this time.
āWhat, you think I didnāt hear it?ā Why should he hold back anyway? Itās not like Paz has anything to say about controlling his temper.
āYou had no problem killing me to get that karking sword. Stop pretending otherwise.ā
Paz tightens his hands into fists, the large body looming over him, casting a shadow on the bed. For a brief moment, heās certain that Paz will hit him, and heās okay with that. It would only prove him right.
Din can hear increasingly ragged breathing coming out of the blue helmet. He stills himself, facing it head on.
The next second, Paz turns on his heels abruptly and storms out of the room, slamming the door so hard that the entire room shakes.
*
Din suddenly has a strong urge to break something, maybe smash the cup and let the water spill all over the floor. But he wonāt. Thatās meaningless and childish. Heās still better than that.
He falls back into the mattress, biting his lower lip as the pain worsens under soft pressure.
Losing the Darksaber didnāt hurt him. He was willing to yield it to Bo-Katan on Gideonās light cruiser. She had a will to lead their people to take back Mandalore. That was her life goal, her only priority, not his.
But he hasnāt lost to Paz for how many years now? He canāt remember, but the last time had to be when they were children. Ever since he became the beroya, he hadnāt lost to Paz again until now. Why now?
A part of him knows the answer. Itās easy, blatant, right in front of his face and he refuses to see it.
You cannot control it with your strength.
The Darksaber is not any weapon. It chooses the worthy leader. Of course it wouldnāt be him. Heās not even a mandalorian anymore, how can he be the Mandāalor?
He doesnāt know how much Paz deserves it either, but at least Paz has never broken the creed, so Paz does deserve it more than him.
Heās not worthy, and the Darksaber knows.
Itās fair. He shouldnāt have expected anything else.
A beeping sound suddenly interrupts his thoughts. Din turns to the nightstand and sees a small timer blinking. It takes him a few seconds to realize itās alerting him about the IV, now almost finished.
He sighs and removes the needle, pressing a finger on the small wound. Itās not worth it to look for a real bandage. By the time he struggles out of bed, the bleeding would have stopped already.
He lies still and keeps the pressure. Soon enough, he feels his eyelid getting heavy and his mind starts to become fuzzy.
Din closes his eyes, letting a strange numbness take over.
@mandaloria314 @theydjarin @vanishedangels @cheesybadgers @hausofmamadas @bellinitini @anunhealthydoseofangst (Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list)
