Today I found out about the artist behind SSSS and A Redtail's Dream converting to Christianity and all of that ordeal. I have to say I'm deeply disappointed. It's not because she's a christian now, if faith is something that truly improves her life then I'm happy for her. I read her two completed new comics and some supplemental material. I still deeply love her earlier works and had thought about purchasing the books, so I wanted to see if she held beliefs I couldn't support. There's a lot I could say about those works themselves, and plenty of other people have.
The thing that most upsets me is her renouncement of her previous work. On her website she says she cannot wholeheartedly recommend them anymore. In her comic about converting she calls those works empty, meaningless entertainment. This is deeply saddening to me. Those beautiful works of art she made, loved by so many people, are worthless to her. Her illustrations had an effect on my personal art, and more importantly it was deeply meaningful to me to read a modern, thoughtful depiction of Finnish mythology. It mattered to me to see this on the page, to see it treated with dignity and interest. It mattered to me that people cared, that they found it interesting and compelling.
Then there is what this all says about her view of art. Is it all meaningless if it is not serving Christ? Does joy, discovery or reflection have no meaning? There's a funny anecdote that comes to my mind about all of this. When I was a child, a peer once asked me how I could be moral without believing in god. My answer was stories. Because we have stories that can teach us. They don't need to be true to be learned from. I don't think this is a perfect answer now of course, but I do still believe it holds some merit. Stories do hold a lot of weight. They shape us in ways we don't necessarily even acknowledge. They can make us feel understood and understand others in kind.
Minna's work inspired me in a number of ways, as it has many others. That impact doesn't end despite her change in beliefs, I don't believe it could even if everyone who read her works tried to forget them. Her work mattered, and it continues to matter.
I won't purchase her books or read her future works, but I hope Minna is happy. I hope she is kinder to herself than her biographical comic made me believe she is.
The beach was still littered with the bodies of injured Mandalorians and the giant-sized insides of the sea creature as you caught your breath. You went to stand up and let out a short gasp at the pain that rippled through your leg. Upon looking down, your visor found the gash on the side of your left leg, left behind by the creature’s claw.
You tightened your jaw and tried to stand again, but before you could, an outstretched hand offered to help you. Paz stood over you, the sight of him a relief as you accepted his help and stood on your feet as best as you could. Your gloved hands tightened into fists at your sides as you gave a quick glance around the shore.
“Is Ragnar okay?” Your modulated voice was more breathless than you wanted it to be.
“He’s fine.” Paz’s voice was lower than you expected, and his visor was fixed on something in the distance with hardly concealed hostility.
You followed his gaze to see the N-1 starfighter that had been the covert’s savior landing on the beach. Dread washed over you much like the water that continued to lap at the sand. You hadn’t gotten a chance to see the pilot, but the chances were the covert would have to relocate once again.
Then, the N-1 landed, and you clearly saw the person within it. The sight made you lose your breath even more than you had before, with only one thought—one name—able to come to mind.
“Din,” you gasped to yourself, your voice barely a breath as you attempted to walk forward.
Paz grabbed your armored shoulder without looking back at you. “No.”
You fought his grasp without hesitation. This was the first time you had seen Din since he was forced to leave you on Nevarro, and you weren’t sacrificing your reunion for Paz’s bitter feelings towards him. “Let me go.” Your voice bordered on a growl, even as your gaze softened at the sight of Din with the small, green child he had told you about so long ago.
“No.” Paz used his entire arm to keep you from advancing. “He is no longer one of us.”
Your helmet whipped towards his own. “What the hell do you mean?”
Paz’s visor finally met your own. “He’s an apostate.”
The words hit you harder than any weapon could’ve. Still, you remained skeptical, tilting your helmet at him. “How is that possible?”
“He removed his helmet.” You gaped beneath your own helmet at that, unable to believe Din could ever do such a thing. In your silence, Paz scoffed with cruel amusement and took a step away from you. “Let him tell you the truth himself.”
In moving away from you, the path between you and Din was completely cleared. Din had stepped out of his ship and set the tiny green child beside his boot on the sand. His attention was still fixed on the Armorer, who stood the closest to him. “I would like to request a brief audience with you,” Din announced to the Armorer, though everyone still standing on the beach remained silent enough to hear him.
You wanted to cry out his name again at the mere sound of his voice. Cycles spent dreaming of it, his final words to you wrapped around your mind like the cruelest broken promise, and now, you were finally hearing it again. But you can’t enjoy it, not with the knowledge of what Paz has revealed to you.
You didn’t want to believe him, but here it was, playing out in front of you. Whispers had already started to carry throughout the group, as if you had purposely been left on the outside of a deep, dark secret for much too long.
The Armorer at last responded with a nod. “When you are ready, you may join me in the forge.” Her visor found you with ease.
Din’s followed. You knew him well enough to understand how severe his reaction was to the sight of you, but even those who didn’t know him the way you did would have been able to tell. His entire body froze, even his cuirass stalling as his visor locked on your own. Your name came breathless from his modulator the same way yours had with his.
You let Din close the gap between you with steps that were both quick and hesitant, as if he was in a dream. You understood the feeling all too well, and you wished you could grasp onto it. Before he could get too close, you held out a single gloved hand, instantly stopping him in his tracks. Din’s visor looked between your hand and your helmet.
You willed your voice to be firm, but it was an impossible task. “Is it true?”
Din’s cuirass stalled again. He shifted his weight, a heartbreaking habit of his that made you want to drop your guard and reach out for him immediately. Still, the unspoken truth between the two of you overpowered your urge.
Your gloved hand was trembling as you continued to hold it up between the two of you. “Did you remove your helmet?”
Din took a deep, trembling breath. You were close enough to hear the way it shook as it entered and exited his corrupted lungs. All you ever wanted for longer than you even knew was to have this proximity to him again, but now, it was like a punishment. It was only made worse by the shame and pure ache in Din’s voice as he spoke. “I did.”
Your throat closed up upon hearing the truth from his lips. “You’re an apostate, then.”
Din’s helmet fell to his boots at that. “I am.” His voice was an inch from broken at the confession.
The little child at his side cooed in distress. It only worsened your own heartbreak. You exhaled and lowered your hand, giving your helmet an aimless shake. You lowered your voice as you spoke again. “Damn it, Din.”
The quivering in your voice was Din’s breaking point. He took another step closer to you. “I can explain.”
“Don’t.” You went to take a step back, forgetting the injury on your leg. It nearly gave out on you, causing you to trip a few steps around yourself. Din didn’t hesitate to reach out and steady you, but as soon as you had better footing, you pulled yourself away from him.
“You’re hurt.” Din sounded more pained than you, the one who actually bore the physical wound. He respected your silent wishes for him to stay away, his gloved hands tightening into fists as he struggled to do so. “Can I help?”
You raised your chin higher than usual. “I can take care of it myself.” You clenched your jaw as you turned your back to him, stopping to glance over your armored shoulder as you added one more thing quietly. “But you can come with me.”
Din nodded at that, clearly more than satisfied with your offer. He and the child followed you as you managed to limp all the way to your private barracks. You were grateful for the fact everyone had given you both some semblance of privacy, though you didn’t miss the glares thrown Din’s way as he followed you into the caves. It made you angry on his behalf, but even you were still disillusioned by the revelation.
It was like everyone knew except for you, and no one bothered to fill you in.
You led Din into your private room, and he drew the makeshift curtain closed for you. You managed to grab your medpac before collapsing on your bed. Din stood nearby, shifting his weight again as you began to tend to your own wound.
“I thought you would come back.” You made your voice stronger than before as you stole a look at Din. “Like you promised me.”
“I did.” Din’s quick response was desperate, not defensive. “After I completed my quest and reunited the kid with his own kind, I took all the jobs I could to get information on the covert. I found the Armorer and Paz on the Glavis Ringworld, and I…” Din shook his helmet. “I thought that was all that was left. That’s what I was told.”
You remained tough in your interrogation, no matter how your instincts of longing screamed at you. “Was that before or after you removed your helmet?”
“After.” Din never hesitated once in revealing each truth to you. “I had no choice, cyare. I promise, I swear.”
It was hard to remain calm when Din was so close to fracturing in front of you, but you maintained your composure nonetheless. “How did it happen?”
For the first time yet, Din hesitated. You stopped the work you were doing on your leg and glanced up, watching as Din bent down and held the child in his arms. You couldn’t help smiling to yourself at the sight of them. “The kid got captured by Moff Gideon.”
Your eyes widened underneath your visor. “Moff Gideon?”
Din nodded. “I… can tell you more about him later.” His voice was low, casting a shadow over the future conversation. “The only way I could get the kid back was to find the coordinates to Gideon’s light cruiser.” Din’s visor fell to the child tucked in his arm. “The Imperial terminal I used required a facial scan.”
It was hard to believe what Din was telling you, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Din was a man of honor, the most honorable you had ever known, but it was his love for and loyalty to the people closest to him that took precedence over all else. He had shown you so himself.
“You said you completed your quest.” You paused to grit your teeth as you administered bacta spray to your wound. Din nearly made the motion to lunge towards you in your peripheral vision, but he stopped himself. “But the child is still with you.”
“Grogu.” Your visor found Din again at the word. The way the child’s long ears had risen on his head answered the question you were about to ask, though Din also beat you to it. “His name is Grogu.” You simply nodded and continued to tend to your wound, allowing Din to continue. “I did complete my quest, but he came back to me.”
You spoke without diverting your attention away from your work. “Why?”
Din’s visor fell to the child, Grogu, once again. “I’m… not sure.” Your chest warmed underneath your cuirass as you watched Din’s forefinger and thumb hold Grogu’s hold. “I guess he wants to be a Mandalorian.”
“Or…” you smiled as you reached for the dark-colored gauze and began to unravel it, “he just wants to be with you.” You forced your visor to remain fixed on your work as you went on. “I know the feeling well.”
Din dared to take a step closer to you. His modulated voice was low and haunted as he spoke. “Have I ruined it?”
You took a deep breath, your armored shoulders rising and falling with you as you secured the gauze around your leg. You stopped and reached for your cuisse, holding the metal between your gloved hands and giving your helmet an aimless shake. “I just…” You raised your helmet to face Din. He continued to stand just a single step or two away from you, restless in his poorly concealed desperation as he shifted his weight once again. “I don’t understand.”
Din’s helmet tilted as he nodded. “I can explain.” His voice was hopeful, and softer than it had been ever since he arrived. “Whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you.”
“I know you will.” You packed up the medical supplies, securing the medpac closed and heaving another breath. “But I don’t think this is something you can explain.”
Din’s helmet straightened in confusion as you tried to stand. You groaned and stopped yourself, closing your eyes beneath your visor at the way the movement pained your healing leg. Din froze, his visor intently watching your every move. You held out your hand towards him.
“Can you help me?”
Din nodded, setting Grogu back onto the floor before taking a firm step towards you. He held your gloved hand and used the other to steady your back, helping you to stand and assisting you over to where your medpac belonged.
You resumed your earlier thoughts as Din kept you close to his side. It was a welcome feeling akin to that of a home. “Nobody told me.” Your visor found his. “I searched for a new location for the covert. I helped to bring everyone here, including the Armorer and Paz from Glavis. And what have I gotten in return?”
You shook your helmet, letting Din help you sit on your bed once again. That time, you were regretful to let go of his hand.
“Lies. Half-hearted truths.” You scoffed and tightened your gloved hands around your cuisses. “No one told me you were alive. Neither the Armorer nor Paz told me they had even seen you.” You lifted a hand to gesture behind Din at the curtain serving as your door. “They’ve all known about us for cycles, and yet no one decided to tell me what happened to you.”
Din helped a visible breath. Your visor never strayed from his as you sat in the silence for a long moment.
“But you haven’t hesitated to be honest with me.” You lifted your chin. “I’m not taking the side of those who refused to do the same.”
The tension that fled from Din’s armored shoulders at your words was practically visible. It was almost as if his weight gave out altogether as he knelt down in front of you. “Thank you.” His modulated voice was quiet, strained by an emotion you struggled to identify. “But…” he shook his helmet, his visor falling to the floor, “they’re still right.” Din found the faith to face you again. “I’m an apostate. I broke the Creed.” Din nodded, as dutiful as ever. “You deserve better than to be associated with me.”
You leaned forward and held his helmet between your gloved hands. It was a position that catapulted you to the sweet nostalgia of the past, when holding his beskar face was an everyday routine rather than a long-lost privilege. “Din.” It was hard to miss the small inhale Din took at your gentle utterance of his name. “You may have removed your helmet, but you did not break the Creed.” You nodded at him. “In my eyes, you upheld the most important vows we swore ourselves to: Honor. Loyalty. Solidarity.”
You paused, your visor finding the little one who stood patiently by Din’s boot. He cooed at you, nodding to agree with your words as he encouraged you to go on. You smiled at the child and looked at Din again.
“You completed the highest honor of our people.” Your helmet gestured to Grogu. “You rescued a foundling.” The front part of your helmet found his own as you brought Din closer to you. “This is the Way.”
Din’s gloved hands found your wrists, the touch slow yet secure as he wrapped them around you. His repetition of the phrase crackled through his modulator in his disbelief. “This is the Way.”
You smiled and brushed your gloved hands over his beskar cheeks. “If your allegiance to the Creed makes you an apostate, then…” you freed your hands from Din, holding your own helmet and lifting it before Din could stop you, “I suppose it makes me one, too.”
Din froze, his visor scanning your face in disbelief. His gloved hands were stuck as they reached out in front of him, a statue of his thwarted attempt to keep you from removing your helmet. He spoke in a trembling, disbelieving breath. “Cyare…”
You set your helmet aside and held his once more. “Loyalty and solidarity are the Way.”
Din finally began to move, one of his gloved hands returning to your wrist as the other cupped the side of your face. You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes to prove to him just how meaningful it truly is to you. “I’ve… only been able to dream of this.” Din’s confession was quiet, each modulated word strained as he spoke. “Of you.” He forced himself to take a deep breath, his gloved thumb running over the skin under your eye over and over again. “Of upholding my promise.”
You smiled at him. “As have I.” You held a hand over his. “It’s been hard, but…” you looked at Grogu and grinned wider, “I’m glad you put the foundling first.”
Grogu cooed at that before Din could even respond. You watched as the little one toddled his way over to you, wrapping his arms around your boot and closing his eyes as he hugged it. You chuckled lightheartedly, your gaze returning to Din’s visor.
You were shocked to see his true gaze just a moment later—a brown sea of warmth and pure affection.
Your gloved hands held his untrimmed jaw as the warmth of your forehead met his for the first time. You couldn’t resist the urge to study him up close over and over again, making your smile remain as you spoke to him in a soft breath. “Being an apostate isn’t so bad.”
Din huffed with amusement at that. His own gaze was studying you, but his eyes had started to focus on your lips. “We can make it worth our while.”
His natural voice was a gift as sweet as the first kiss he gave you, a breathtakingly beautiful display of affection that was many cycles in the making. Pure warmth that rivaled anything the galaxy had ever offered you blossomed from his lips onto your own, setting your chest aflame with the same sweet heat. For the sake of the child in the room, the two of you separated more quickly than either one of you would have liked, your smiles brightening up the space between you.
“So,” you began, running your gloved fingers over his cheek, “where are we headed next, cyare?”
Din grimaced for a moment, making you furrow your brow in concern. “Mandalore.”
You lifted your head from his. “The planet’s cursed, Din. We can’t go there.”
Din broke away from you for a moment to reach for something on his belt. He lifted it and offered it to you. “That’s Mandalorian writing.” He said the words as soon as you read them on the green slab of glass. “A traveler acquired this from the planet’s surface.”
Your gaze of disbelief found his. “Is it breathable?”
Din shrugged, taking the fused glass back from you. “That’s what I’m going to find out.” He nodded and looked down at his helmet. “The Armorer has told me redemption is only possible in the Living Waters beneath the mines.”
You tightened your jaw in resolution. “Then that’s where we’re headed.” You prepared to force yourself to stand once again. “I’ll get my things together.”
Din shook his head, his brown eyes dark with worry as his brow furrowed. “You’re still hurt.”
“One night’s rest will be enough to heal it.” You nodded in further reassurance. “The trip through hyperspace will take care of it.”
Din hesitated, but ultimately he nodded to agree with you. “And you still have your ship?”
“I do. Speaking of which…” you raised your brow at him, “you’ve got quite the ship, now.”
Din huffed, though his gaze averted yours. “The Crest was destroyed by Gideon.” You set a hand on his cheek for comfort. “This ship’s turning out to be a fairly decent replacement, though.”
“Sure.” You grinned at him. “Knowing you, this ship’s much more your speed.”
Din chuckled, his attention turning to Grogu. “What do you think, buddy?”
The foundling let out a long coo, making both you and Din laugh before he helped you to stand. He supported you with one hand and used the other to grab your helmet, though he hesitated before he put it back on for you.
“Thank you, cyare.” The genuine nature of Din’s words were even more evident without the filter of his helmet, his brown eyes telling you the very same truth.
You brought yourself closer to him. “You don’t have to thank me, Din.” You nodded, your next words a whispered breath upon his lips. “I did it because I love you.”
You kissed him, a quick yet meaningful gesture that kept a small smile on his lips as you pulled away. His response was still just as meaningful as before, if not more so. “I love you, too.” He nodded as he began to set your helmet over your head. “Once we find our redemption,” the helmet lowered, “then I’ll follow through on my promise.”
You helped Din with his own helmet before leaning it against your own in one more Keldabe kiss. “I know you will.”
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