Author’s note: 9 Pedro Characters. 9 Birthday Smooches. These are very lightly edited because they're supposed to be quick. Wanted to give all of you a gift to celebrate my birthday - here's Din.
I don't know if anyone even still cares about this pairing, but ... if you remember Magnetic, this one's for you.
You liked being on Mandalore, because it allowed you to learn more about Din and his people.
On Mandalore, you had no real responsibilities outside of helping to look after Grogu and doing what was necessary to keep the facility operating smoothly. It allowed you to hang back and observe, using your ability to get a read on the others around you, though many of them were covered head to toe in armor at all times.
Thanks to your time spent at the Academy with the Younglings, you didn’t mind when the Mandalorian children gravitated toward you because they wanted to be near Grogu. And since Din’s responsibilities kept him busy for much of the day every day, having something to do on your own was a relief for the hours you were apart.
But that didn’t mean that you were content to stay inside the compound.
You missed the thrill of being in hyperspace. You missed not knowing what the next day would bring. You missed interacting with people while you helped Din. But most of all, you missed Din, and the man you’d gotten to know during the months you spent with him before returning to Mandalore.
Things on Mandalore were no different than he’d warned you they would be, but you still hoped that after more time had passed, it would change. You hadn’t left the planet since you’d gone back to the Academy to get the rest of your belongings, and that short trip had been the last time you were truly alone with Din and Grogu - and it was tough to handle.
On your way back from one of the training rooms, Koska stopped you in the hallway, calling your name just before you rounded the corner. “I’m supposed to tell you that the Mand’alor is looking for you.”
“He is?” Taking a breath and hoping your expression didn’t give anything away, you crossed your arms over your chest, staring at her. “Where is he?”
“He’s with the kid by his ship. He said to get the bag from their quarters and then go meet him there.”
“What is -”
“I have no idea.” She shrugged. “Sorry.”
It only took you a few minutes to do as she’d asked, unlocking Din’s door and hefting the bag on his bed over one shoulder before you headed to the docking bay, nodding at a few people as you passed.
You tried not to get your hopes up - after all, he hadn’t told you to pack, and he hadn’t said a word about going anywhere that morning when he’d said goodbye.
But the ramp on the Razor II was down when you got there, the interior lights glowing in the fading daylight… and you knew that that wouldn’t have been the case if he wasn’t planning on leaving.
“Mando?” You called out for him as you got closer, searching for any sign of him near the ship. “Are you here?”
You caught a brief flash of Grogu’s thoughts, but it was mostly excitement and nothing more, which disheartened you further, because if Grogu was excited, then there was a reason.
And when you entered the cargo bay, you saw neatly stacked crates of supplies along one wall, along with a small bag - most likely Grogu’s - already sitting on the cot. You frowned at that, realizing that it meant Grogu was likely going with him.
Instead of dwelling on that, though, you secured the bag over your shoulder and climbed up to the top level of the ship, since it was the only other place he could have been.
You saw Grogu immediately, the kid sitting in the second cockpit chair and raising one clawed hand to wave at you. Before you could speak again, though, he turned away and you heard the sound of the ramp closing, the whirr of it vibrating the ship’s frame gently. Surprise. “Grogu? What -”
“We’re leaving.” You sucked in a breath at the sound of his unmodulated voice, and when you turned to see Din standing in the doorway of the sleeping quarters, beskar-covered arms crossed over his chest, your jaw dropped. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“Where are we going?” It didn’t really matter, so as you spoke you stepped toward him, shock turning into relief. “And how long are -”
“A few weeks.” His smile widened the second your palm made contact with his armored chest, Din using both arms to pull you flush against him. “And we’re going to visit some friends.”
You didn’t know who he meant, but that didn’t matter, either. Instead of asking more questions, you used your free hand to pull his face toward yours, your fingers loosely gripping the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. It was unnecessary, but you whispered two words - thank you - against his lips before you kissed him, mindful of the fact that Grogu was only a few feet away. His presence meant that you couldn’t get too carried away, so when you broke apart from Din seconds later you smiled, nodding twice. “I thought you were going without me.”
He raised an eyebrow and shook his head slowly, staring at you. “Never. Especially not so close to your birthday.”
“How -”
“Checked your chain code. The Mand’alor can never be too careful about who he’s spending time with” He leaned in again, the man’s mouth meeting yours again briefly. “Now go take those controls. They’re yours today. I already programmed coordinates for you.”
With a delighted laugh, you turned away from him, but before you got too far, Din’s hands were on your hips, the man following you through the small room, though he hung back when you sat down next to Grogu. “Alright, kid.” Tilting your head down to look at him once your hands were in place on the yoke, your smile grew. “You ready?”
You knew he was - you could feel it, along with Din’s excitement, emotions pulsing through the small space as the three of you prepped to take off. It was only a few weeks - but it was a good place to start.
Pairing: Din x Force Sensitive Reader (female reader insert; no ‘Y/N’)
Word Count: 10,991
Rating: Full citrus. This is a zesty one.
Summary: Waking up next to Din will never get old, but only a few minutes after opening your eyes, you’re faced with the need to explain.
Both of you know that that how things are on the ship isn’t how things will always be, but you’re determined to enjoy every moment you can before your arrival on Mandalore.
* Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter BUT DON’T PEEK
Author’s note:
I am the worst. It’s been like 5 months and I understand if people are no longer interested in this story - but I’m still telling it so... Thank you for your patience. Thank you for your understanding and your kind messages in support. Thank you for encouraging me in every way. It’s been about a year since I posted the first chapter of this, and while I didn’t ever intend to drag it out for so long... I appreciate all of you for sticking around. I hope you enjoy reading this one - because I certainly enjoyed writing it.
Do you need to catch up? Read the full story!
(Banner by @malionnes )
When you woke up the following morning, Din was still in bed next to you. For the first time, you opened your eyes and saw his face, one cheek pressed against the pillow, half of his mouth and one eye hidden, too. This is just the first morning. It was impossible to keep from reaching over and brushing your thumb over the stubble that covered his visible cheek and jaw, fingers trailing back toward his hairline. I don’t have to. You felt the moment he woke up, his body going rigid, and so you stopped, leaving your hand in place and holding your breath. Give him a second.
You knew what the issue was - you’d fallen asleep with the light on, the two of you moving from the cockpit into the bedroom, and there was nothing hiding the man from you. This is the first time he’s … except with Grogu. “Good morning, Din.” You spoke quietly, finally daring to breathe, and to your surprise, he relaxed after a few seconds, turning his head slightly more toward the pillow, the lower part of his jaw moving as he yawned. As you pulled your hand away, you pressed your lips together, readying yourself to roll away from him, but Din stopped you with the tightening of his hold on your hip, fingers digging in.
“It’s going to… take me some time.” He sighed, head once again in the position you’d woken up to see, one of the man’s eyes staring intently at you. “I’m not used to -”
“I know.” You let your hand fall back onto his arm, squeezing the skin over his tattoo. “Don’t worry about it, Din. I don’t … I should have turned the light off before we fell asleep.” At that, he laughed, rolling onto his back and reaching up to rub at his eyes with the ends of his fingers. Why is he laughing?
“No, you shouldn’t have.” He grinned at you when he met your eyes again, the dimple present - a deep divot in his cheek. “There isn’t… a reason to anymore.” It was the truth, but it was also something that you’d need time to adjust to. It still hadn’t sunk in that you no longer had to worry about closing your eyes when the man turned on the light to walk into the fresher, or backing away when he was in the cockpit without his helmet on. I get to look at him whenever I … whenever I want. It would take just as much getting used to for you as it would for him, but the man had already reacted better than you’d thought he would.
“So it wasn’t a dream?” Propping yourself up on one elbow, you watched as he raised an eyebrow. “We’re actually doing this?”
“We are.” Din wet his lower lip, the drag of his tongue slow. “We did.” Your heart swelled within your chest, but before you could answer him, Din moved, still lightning fast even from flat on his back. You were pinned beneath him in no time, the man balancing above you on one knee, which was slotted between your legs. Oh, shit. Instead of lowering his face toward yours right away, he just gazed down at you, unblinking. You’d never seen - or felt anything so gentle from the man, and had you not seen the way he acted with Grogu, you would have thought it entirely impossible, something you were imagining. “It can’t be like this all the time.”
You saw the lines appearing between his brows again, lips pushed out into the same pout you’d noticed the previous night when he was deep in thought. “I know.” You whispered the words, head nodding up and down. “I don’t expect it to be.” You knew what he meant - that things on Mandalore wouldn’t be as carefree, that he’d have responsibilities that he’d need to attend to, that you wouldn’t wake up next to him every single morning in a bed that you’d shared the night before. “You’re the Mand’alor, Din. You have -” He cut you off with a kiss, lips warm and firm against yours, and even though you wanted to push him away, telling him to let you go and brush your teeth first, you couldn’t, instead reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair, head cocking to one side as your lips parted for him.
But before either of you could deepen the kiss, you heard a quiet cooing noise from the door, and a single thought was nearly screamed into your mind. WHAT? You sucked in a breath, freezing beneath the man as your hands stilled. Oh, Maker. Grogu. When you pushed on Din’s shoulders, urging the man away from you, you could feel the confusion rolling off of him in waves, but by the time he was settled back on the mattress next to you, you were sitting up, too, both pairs of eyes on the doorway. Ah, kriff.
Grogu stood in it, hands held in front of his body with his fingers locked together, head moving back and forth between the two of you. No helmet? No, buddy. You looked over at Din and saw that his eyes were also wide and focused on Grogu, the man silent. “C’mere, kid.” He spoke before you could, holding a hand up and beckoning for Grogu, but made no move to get out of the bed. “Get up here.” The child moved quickly, toddling across the floor and then using the blankets to pull himself up and onto the bed, but stopped at the foot of it, still looking between you and Din, his ears down and back. Showed you? He did. You didn’t know what else to say, because the situation was awkward - and when Din was right there, it wasn’t your place. Or is it now?
You’d figured that Din would go downstairs first, leaving you to get dressed before you followed him, and the three of you would have some sort of discussion in the lower level of the ship, but that wasn’t an option any longer. “Grogu?” Your voice quiet, you spoke to him the same way you did at the Academy when you were trying to tell him something important. “Your dad and me … we -” Together? Chewing on your lip, you turned your head toward Din. “He asked if we were together, Din.” You watched Din’s chest rise, watched him lift both arms and reach for Grogu.
“I guess the Lothcat’s out of the bag, kid.” He nodded. “Yeah, we’re … it’s what we talked about, pal.” Talked about? What does that mean? With a squeal, Grogu launched himself into the man’s arms, Din smoothly catching him and pulling the child to his chest. Family. After a few seconds of excited babble, Grogu backed his head away from Din and looked up, raising one hand to the man’s chin, his clawed fingers brushing the skin there. “Want me to tell her, or do you?”
“Someone better tell me.” You blinked quickly, letting out your breath in a quiet huff. “I feel like I’m -”
“I told you I talked to Fett.” Din shifted Grogu from both arms to one, cradling him at the bend of his elbow so that he was facing your direction. “But I also… asked Grogu if…” Din trailed off, his free hand rubbing the top of Grogu’s head. Asked what? Grogu? Want to be family. You felt the tears welling up again, but you were beaming, reaching for the man in the same motion as you scooted closer to the pair of them.
“You asked him if he wanted us to be a family, Din?” Placing one hand on top of the one that Din had wrapped around Grogu’s body, you reached for his face with the other, palm flat against it. “So Grogu knew? He -”
“No.” Clearing his throat, Din finally looked away from the kid and back at you, the expression on his face serious. “I… I asked him if he’d ever be able to choose between staying with me and going back with you.” You what? “He… can’t talk, but I …” Din closed his eyes briefly. “I could feel that he didn’t want to pick, that it … wouldn’t be easy for him.” Grogu? Can’t pick. He reached for you, then, Din letting him crawl into your lap and snuggle into your chest, one hand gripping the material of the shirt you wore. “I couldn’t tell him too much because I didn’t want to risk him thinking too hard and you … Dank Farrik, the way he looked at me... ” He wanted to be the one to tell me, not … not let it be Grogu.
“When?” The tears were leaking down your face slowly, but you were still smiling, heart filled with love for the man and the child. “When did you -”
“Nevarro. When we were camping. I had to know.” He didn’t say anything else, glancing down at Grogu and then saying your name quietly. “Aliit ori’shya tal’din.” What? You met his eyes, Din’s were boring into you, begging you to not only listen but to understand, too. “Family is more than blood.” He reached for Grogu, the child’s fingers curling around one of the man’s outstretched ones. Before he spoke again, he took a long, deep breath and settled his hand against the side of your neck. “I had the Tribe and my covert. You had the Jedi. Grogu … had someone that was able to save him once.” Din blinked, and you watched as he straightened his shoulders. “Now we have each other.”
If someone had told you on your first night in Nevarro that within the span of a few months, you’d be sitting in the position you were with the Mandalorian and Grogu, you would have bet every credit to your name that they would have been wrong. But I would have been wrong instead. “We do.” Leaning forward, you kissed Din quickly, then dropped your head down to kiss the top of Grogu’s, eyes closing as you made contact with it. You’d considered the kid family for a while, even though it wasn’t something that you’d admitted out loud to yourself or to him. “I love you, Grogu.” You whispered the words. “You and your dad.” I know. You bit back a laugh, kissing him again and then straightening up. Love both too. We’d make terrible Jedi, kid. He giggled at that, and you looked at Din again, drinking in the appearance of his features - the way there were still lines from the blanket on his chest, the way his hair stuck out in unruly curls, the patchiness of his beard and the way it was threaded with gray. I’m the only person sees these things.
“We should go eat.” Din sniffed, the color rising in his cheeks as you eyed him. “I’m sure the kid’s hungry, because I know I am.” Your eyes widened as you realized that whatever meal came next would be the first one you truly shared with Din. And maybe the first real one he’s had with an adult in … You knew that he’d had drinks with Cara and others, but figured that his time with them without the helmet had been short and only when necessary. Even though he said having it off with them was … But you realized that it was different with those people. Every time he took the helmet off with them, it was because he’d had to say goodbye to Grogu in the first place. They saw him because he … had to let them. Despite that, Din never seemed to hesitate when it came to the child and taking the helmet off. Because that’s his kid. It’s not the same.
You realized that you’d been silent for too long when Grogu began tugging on your shirt sleeve. Hungry. “Of course you’re hungry.” You rolled your eyes, scooping him up and swinging out of the bed in one movement, stepping toward the door before you looked back over your shoulder at Din. “You better not chew with your mouth open like your kid does, Mando.”
He barely concealed his snort as he got out of the bed and followed you, his hands finding your waist before you’d even made it out of the bedroom. I like not having to hide this with him.
---
“Grogu, seriously.” You covered your eyes with one hand, sighing. “It’s bedtime.” The child paid you no attention, though, continuing his journey back and forth up the long corridor that spanned the length of the ship’s hull. “You’re going to have to -” Not tired. Of course you aren’t. You sighed again, dropping onto one of the crates and staying silent, eyes on the small green head as it bobbed away and into the darkness.
The previous hours had been filled with the three of you spending time together. It started with breakfast - you and Din on separate crates while Grogu settled onto the cot between you, head moving back and forth. It was new for all of you - the feeling of eating together, the ability to have a conversation while looking at each other - the way the muscles in Din’s jaw and throat worked as he chewed and swallowed - but you ate heartily, enjoying the feeling of being together, and you could feel that Din and Grogu did, too.
Grogu hadn’t napped at all, following you and Din into the cockpit for a while and moving between your laps, reaching up to touch Din’s face every now and then while he thought things at you. Happy. Family. Stay. He’d made his choice - and you knew it, meaning that the only thing left to do would be to call Luke. Gotta wait to see what happens on Mandalore, kid. I know you want to stay, but we need to make sure it’s safe. He’d only blinked at you then in response, but you knew he understood.
Din wouldn’t let you or Grogu get into trouble, and if he perceived anyone or anything on Mandalore as an immediate threat, you knew that he’d want to send you away until it could be neutralized. Including Goscall. But you weren’t worried; a planet full of Mandalorians wouldn’t be a good place for anyone looking for revenge to head to, and despite the fact that he’d been a relatively big name in the criminal circle, you didn’t think that his men were stupid. But you never know.
After the cockpit, you and the kid had made your way back down to the main floor of the ship, getting in your daily practice session. Din wandered down halfway through, dropping cross-legged onto the thin mattress, chin resting on one hand as he braced his elbow on his knee. You focused on Grogu - as always - but were very aware of Din, too, and finally getting to see the expressions on his face as he watched you and Grogu made your chest feel tight. He’s so proud. You’d seen it in his body language before, heard it in his modulated voice, but actually seeing the way he corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way his dimple deepened when he laughed along with the way it looked when his lips parted as he grinned, showing off straight, white teeth was eye opening for you.
His reactions were no different than any other human man, and even though he was still imposing, you knew that you’d likely never look at him the same way again, never be able to forget the way things changed when he showed you his true self. I wonder what this feels like for him.
It made you almost certain that all Mandalorians that remained hidden did so more for the image it allowed them to project than because they truly believed that anonymity was necessary. But it’s what they know and what they believe. You’d kept your eyes on Din while he was interacting with Grogu, the man’s smile genuine, his eyes warm and focused on the child at his feet. It was the same as it was when he was covered head to toe in beskar, but it was also different, and you realized just how much you appreciated every moment you had with them. Like this. I know it can’t be like this all the time, but this is … exactly what I wanted.
You and Din took turns in the fresher - him offering to let you go first after you’d all eaten dinner, giving you the chance to clean yourself up while he spent some time with Grogu. You’d done just that, taking a few extra minutes to ensure that you were as clean from head to toe as possible, ready for whatever happened that night, excited to be with Din in the light for the first time. But we have to get this kid to sleep first. You sighed as you watched him run, the soft patter of his feet punctuated by a rapid click click click as his clawed toes hit the floor. Din was behind the closed fresher door, the sound of the water quiet but still audible, and you hummed softly, thinking.
How do I get him to sleep? You followed with your eyes as he began to climb one of the cargo nets attached to the curved interior wall of the ship, a few grunts of exertion reaching your ears. Maybe he’ll tire himself out this way. But you knew that it was just excitement for him - you could feel it, Grogu thrilled that the three of you were together, and could stay that way, that he would get to see Din’s face whenever the three of you were in private and not only when it was the two of them. “He’s usually settled down by now.” Turning your head at the sound of the man’s voice, you let yourself stare, Din dressed in a pair of loose pants and one of his light colored undershirts, a few damp spots visible on his torso. “Why is he -”
“He’s just excited, Din.” Fighting back a smile, you turned your head to look back at Grogu, who was swinging back and forth, grip on the net tight. “Today’s a big day for him.” The mattress creaked as Din lowered himself down and onto it, and after a few seconds you looked over, grinning as you watched him follow the child’s movement. “He’ll probably be up until -”
“He better not be.” Din said your name and then motioned with one hand for you to stand. “Come here.” You felt the pull at his words, strengthened by the tone he used and were moving almost immediately, rising from your seat on the crate to stand in front of him, but Din turned you so that your back was toward him and then urged you to sit, spreading his legs so that you could sit between them on the edge of the cot. “We have … plans.” We do. Swallowing hard at the shiver of excitement that ran through you, you leaned against his chest, taking a deep breath as you closed your eyes.
He smelled like he usually did, though there was an added scent that you were unfamiliar with, and as you felt him hug you from behind, you realized that it was his skin, specifically his face. He must have … Turning just enough to eye the man, you realized that he hadn’t shaved, though his cheeks looked ruddy, like he’d spent extra time scrubbing them. “Cleaned up for me, Din?” You couldn’t help teasing him, angling your head back and tilting it so that you could kiss his cheek. “You didn’t need to -”
“Wanted to.” His words were quiet, arms tightening around your waist. “While I can.” Heart slamming into your ribs, you closed your eyes. Because it won’t always be like this. “But it’s not going to matter if this little -”
“Grogu.” Speaking more sternly than you usually did, your gaze snapped to the child, his head turning and eyes focusing on the two of you. What? “It’s almost time for bed.” Not tired. “You are.” Raising an eyebrow, you stared at him. “You’re hiding the fact that you’re blinking more than usual by facing away from us.” No. Din barely contained his laugh from behind you, chest rumbling against your back. “You were running around to try to -” Not tired. “Grogu, come on.” Blowing out a breath, you lifted both hands, holding them out to him. “Come here.”
He slowly climbed down and made his way back to where you sat, pausing at your feet. Din loosened his hold on you enough so that you could lean forward and pick him up, straightening the child’s robes as you settled him onto your lap. I think I know what’s wrong, kid. What? “That’s not fair.” Din covered one of your hands with his own. “The two of you … talking so I can’t hear.”
“I’m sorry.” You were, and you knew Grogu was, too. “It’s just habit, Din. We -”
“I know, you did it at the Academy.” He sounded like he understood, and so you nodded, eyes flicking back down to Grogu. “But you’re not -”
“No, we’re not there anymore.” Sighing, you used the hand that wasn’t covered by Din’s to touch the tip of Grogu’s ear. “And I was just telling him that I think I know what’s wrong.” Without waiting for him to ask, you continued. “I think Grogu’s … unwilling to go to sleep because he likes the way things were today.” Yes. “He thinks that if he goes to sleep, he’s going to wake up and things are going to go back to how they were before. This he won’t -”
“Not gonna change, kid.” Din rested his chin on your shoulder, peering down at the child. “Helmet stays off when it’s just the three of us, as long as it’s safe.” Really? He looked between the two of you, and when you’d translated his question, Din nodded solemnly. “I mean it. But you can’t stay awake forever, pal. We’re going to get to Mandalore whether you sleep or not.” Promise? Stay?
“I promise, Grogu.” You felt his fingers encircle one of yours, squeezing. “And he’s right. You need to sleep. Why stay awake? There’s not much to do on the ship.” Right. Grogu blinked, shifting his gaze back to the man behind you. Sleep too? “We might sit in the cockpit for a little while, but yeah. We’re going to sleep, too.” You didn’t look away, and didn’t let any other thoughts into your mind as you answered him. “All of us.”
You thought that he was going to argue, but instead of doing that, Grogu closed his eyes, leaned forward and hugged you, one cheek pressed against your shirt - the fingers around yours tightening, and his other hand reaching out. You were surprised to feel Din’s arms go around you again, glancing down to see one of his large hands splayed out against Grogu’s back, the other one cradling his head. He murmured a word into the side of your head, lips moving through your hair, and at the sound of it, Grogu cooed loudly. Family.
Turning your head toward Din, you caught his eye, the man’s face just far enough away from yours to make it possible. “You’re stuck with us now, Din Djarin.” As you spoke, you covered the hand on Grogu’s back with your free one, feeling the heat of Din’s skin against your palm. It felt right, sitting in the hull of the ship with the two of them, strengthening the bond between the three of you so that it was closer in nature to the bonds you’d built as pairs. It’ll take time. Din’s eyes searched your face, and even though he kept the rest of his body almost entirely still, you felt the twitch of his fingers and saw the slight tremble of his lower lip.
“Good.” He leaned in slowly, but instead of kissing you, let his forehead rest against yours before he spoke again, the man’s warm breath against your lips. “I don’t want anything else.” The three of you stayed like that for long moments, creaks and quiet blips from the ship along with your breathing the only noises you could hear. This is perfect, you thought, hoping that Grogu could hear you. He’s gonna need to get used to this, kid. We’re gonna have to be patient. I will. “It’s bedtime, pal.” Din cleared his throat and straightened up, eyes on the child you held. “You’re falling asleep in her lap.”
He didn’t argue, and after a brief readjustment of your positions, you pulled out of Din’s arms and stood, Grogu held tightly to your chest. “Where are you sleeping tonight, Grogu? Your cubby? The pod? On the cot?” The bed creaked behind you as Din moved around, and a few seconds later, you heard the almost silent whoosh of the pod descending from upstairs .”Guess your dad decided for you.” Grogu wrinkled his nose but didn’t fight with you, and when Din asked you if he could hold the child, you handed him over wordlessly after pressing a kiss to his wrinkled forehead. Goodnight, pal.
“Go upstairs. I’ll be up when he’s asleep.” The difference between that night and other nights was that as Din said those words to you, there was no modulation - and you could see the look in his eyes as they left his mouth. He was holding it together, and you were thankful that he was able to keep his tone even. But he couldn’t hide the emotion on his face; the way that the light caught the deep brown of his eyes - or the way that they raked over your body, only stopping when they were focused on yours again. “Don’t fall asleep yet.” That made you laugh, jolting you into motion and as you stepped by the man and the child, you took a deep breath, finally allowing yourself a grin when you knew neither of them could see. Wouldn’t dream of it.
---
You hadn’t lied to the child - you did end up in the cockpit after a detour to brush your teeth, but instead of taking one of the side chairs, you lowered yourself onto the center one, getting comfortable in the relative darkness of the space. There were overhead lights, but you didn’t turn them on, preferring the way the starlight came in through the filtered screen in front of you, mixing with the muted glow of the control panel’s various buttons and monitors.
For you, the cockpit would have much more significance after the events of the previous night. So many firsts here. Reaching forward, you ran your hands gently over the buttons and dials, still smiling. First time I helped him out, with the lights and the Charnoq. First time someone else got to fly her. First time I saw his face. Marrying him. The last thought stopped your movements, breath catching in your throat as you thought back to the words you’d exchanged, the significance of the previous night. Not just firsts for me, but for him, too.
Since Mandalorian commitments weren’t typically large events, nor were they officiated with the usual fanfare, the only people who would know the truth were the two of you. And Grogu, but he can’t tell anyone… except Luke. You wondered what the man would say when he found out, wondered how he’d feel about the union of someone as connected to the Force as you were and a Mandalorian, but you had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t be as judgemental as some of the other Jedi Masters. At least I hope so.
You’d find out soon enough, you rationalized as you got settled in the chair, tilting your head back to rest it against the curved headrest. You figured it would take a few weeks to get a good read on the planet and on the other Mandalorians, to see if you and Grogu were a good fit as a unit, or if it would result in hardship between your Mandalorian and his people.
You expected some problems - especially with Bo-Katan, and potentially with those that were loyal to her, but since she’d been the only one that he’d mentioned by name, you dodn’t want to make things more difficult for yourself before you even know what the truth of the situation was.”You look good in that chair.”
At the sound of his voice, you bit down on your lower lip, spinning slowly so that you could see him. Din stood in the doorway, both arms crossed over his chest, head tilted slightly to one side. “Do I?” You couldn’t help teasing the man, crossing your legs and raising one eyebrow. “Bet you tell that to -”
“You’re the only other person that’s ever been in that seat since I’ve had this ship, so whatever you’re going to say, don’t.” Widening your eyes, you watched as Din fully entered the cockpit, the doors closing behind him with the press of a single button on the wall beside his shoulder. I knew no one had ever … but he let me … I flew it weeks ago. “The kid’s finally asleep.” Din took a seat where you usually ended up, leaning back and spreading his legs slightly before resting his hands on his thighs. “Did he really think that I was going to just … put the helmet back on around you?”
Though you were distracted by his posture and the way he was keeping his eyes on you, you let your breath out and then replied. “I think so. You’ve gotta remember, Din, he understands what it means for you to wear your helmet, and to take it off. He’s still just a kid, so it’s hard for him to …” You gestured at him, spinning your finger in a circle to let him know you were talking about his face. “Go from you being covered unless the two of you are alone to it being … like this.” He gave you a thoughtful nod, brow slightly furrowed, and it made you wonder just how many of the his facial expressions you were going to get to learn over the following years. All of them. I get to learn all of them, and -
“Why are you looking at me like that?” He leaned closer, keeping his legs apart, but digging his fingers into them. “You’re looking at me like -”
“Like I’ve never seen your face before?” Closing your eyes briefly, you shook your head. “Because, Din, this is how I’m going to look at you every time I see you, because every single way you look at me? Every expression on your face? They’re all new.” He looked shocked at your words, and you scrambled to backtrack, edging closer to the man without leaving your seat. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, Din, I’ll … try to not do it.” He laughed at that after a few seconds, lifting his hand and holding it out to you. “Din? What -”
“Don’t stop.” You heard his voice catch, the man glancing down and then back up. “It’s different, without the helmet?” He leaned in closer, lifting his free hand to your face and letting his fingers glance off of your cheek. “It’s … a relief to know that someone isn’t just … guessing what I’m feeling or where I’m looking.” I’m sure it is. “And to know that it’s you doing it?” It was his turn to raise an eyebrow, a grateful smile on his lips. “Even better.”
“Din, I …” You were overwhelmed - again - by the man in front of you and the way he was saying so much in so few words. Deciding to follow his lead, you closed the distance between yourselves, but instead of kissing him on the mouth, your lips landed on his cheek, finding the bare patch in his beard. His fingers moved to your hair but he didn’t try to guide you, instead, he let you linger there before your head turned inward, mouth finding his. Din had taken the time to brush his teeth, too; you tasted the mint on his lips though they remained closed. “You said we had plans, Din… is that still -”
“Oh, we definitely have plans.” He said your name at the end, voice dropping low. “And we have plenty of time, too.” You hadn’t looked at the clock, hadn’t even worried about wether or not it was earlier than it had been the previous night. Because I know it is. “Stand up.” You moved, rising to your feet and Din followed, pulling you closer to him with one hand against your hip, the other still in your hair. “I was waiting for -”
“You’ve been waiting for years, Din.” Looking up, you reached for the hair hanging over his forehead, fingers moving through it as you pushed it back, exposing his entire face to you. “No more.” He nodded once at your words, but you could see the change in his expression, the shift in the look in his eyes. Exactly, Din. “The bed’s waiting for us, riduur.” He growled at that, blindly reaching behind himself to open the door and pull you into the hallway, though he didn’t kiss you again. What is he… But Din didn’t stop or explain, walking backwards across the small space and using the same hand to open the door to your room, waiting until you were both inside to shut it behind you - and then lock it. That wouldn’t stop Grogu, but … You didn’t want to ruin the moment, so you chose not to remind Din of that fact, instead twisting away from him to turn the lights up, casting the room in a brighter glow. “I -”
“You’re alright with the lights?” He was watching you closely, amusement clear on his face. “I know a lot of -”
“This is a special occasion.” Deciding to take the lead, you reached out with both hands, grasping the hem of his shirt. “I want to see everything, Din. All of you.” And if that means you can see me, then that’s fine, too. “Not every time, but … this time, Din. This time, I…” You inched the shirt up, exposing his stomach and then his chest, the man letting you move without interfering, his arms rising too. When you managed to pull the shirt over his head, you tossed it to the side without looking away from Din, feeling the shudder travel through your body as you saw him with nothing covering any part of the top half of his body for the first time. “Din, you…” Hands raised, you waited for him to give you a nod to touch him, fingers skimming over his skin. “Maker, you’re …”
It wasn’t enough to tell him that you found him attractive - the same way it hadn’t been earlier, but you didn’t know what else to say. “I’m what?” He was touching you, too, both hands on your hips, his fingers pushed just beneath the material of your shirt, thumbs against your lower abdomen.
“It’s stupid, Din. I -”
“Tell me.” Even without the modulator, he commanded the room when he spoke, the tone of voice he used leaving nothing to chance. “Please.” But that’s new. Din didn’t say please, and he very rarely said thank you, either. Except to me.
“You…” You were still running your hands over his skin - the muscles of his upper chest taut beneath your touch. He began to work his hands up, too, bringing the shirt you wore with them - but slowly. “You’re so much more than your beskar, Din. But you’re just as intimidating without it, and …” Crooking your finger, you trailed your knuckle up the side of his neck and it was Din’s turn to react, a slightly strangled sound leaving his lips. “I’m just so thankful that I get to know it.”
“You do.” He’d gotten the shirt up to the center of your ribcage, pausing there. “Only you do.” The man cleared his throat. “Irude laam. Arms up.” You did as he asked, and your shirt joined his on the floor seconds later, followed almost immediately by your undershirt - leaving your entire top half exposed. You couldn’t hold yourself back any longer and stepped closer to the man, winding your arms around his neck and urging his face toward yours.
You wanted to take things slow, to savor the night with him, but knew that you wouldn’t be able to. There’s time for that. Plenty of it. He kissed you hard, the man’s grip on your waist tight, and instead of both of his hands working their way up, the left one stayed in place, the edges of the short nails on his other hand running up the center of your back almost agonizingly slowly.
Groaning into his mouth, you gave him the go ahead; lips parting enough for his tongue, the taste of his tooth gel slightly different from yours - somehow heavier. Din kissed you like it was the first time, barely giving you a chance to process it before he’d pulled away, chest rising and falling as he caught his breath. “Stars, Din. You’ve never -” His lips twitched, but he kept quiet. That’s the point, isn’t it. He’d never been in this scenario with anyone else, and so he was just as off-balance as you were. “Tell me what you want, Din. Tell me what to -”
He looked hungry, the man’s dark eyes on your face and then moving down to where his hand was. “Everything.” You gasped at that, feeling as he pulled you flush against his body, his head ducking down so that he could kiss the side of your neck. You let him move at his own pace; taking his time to thoroughly cover your skin with his kisses over one shoulder and then the other. You didn’t stop touching him, though, fingers buried in his hair and the other hand roaming over the broad expanse of his back, mapping out the muscles there along with the way they moved.
He began to work his way down your body, trailing openmouthed kisses across your chest and lingering in the valley between your breasts - the man’s nose running along the inside curve of one and then the other as he moved his head up and down. You couldn’t see much aside from the top of his head, but you felt as both hands traveled up your sides, pausing so that he could extend his thumbs toward the center of your chest, using both of them to support the weight above them.
Arching your back slightly, you heard him sigh as he flicked his tongue over one nipple and then closed his teeth around the sensitive bud, drawing it into his mouth. When he moved to the other side, you realized that he wasn’t only giving you something to watch, he was taking his time because he could finally see what he was doing in the moment he peeked through his lashes, glancing up only briefly enough to lock eyes with you and wink before he encircled the hardened point of the other nipple with his lips and then sucked, his eyes squeezing shut at the same time yours did, a flash of heat spiking through your body. Maker, that feels good.
Without warning, the man pulled away, lowering himself onto his knees in front of you, his hands moving back down your body and settling in near your waist. “What are you doing?” You whispered the words, one of your hands cradling the hair at the back of his head, and when Din looked back up at you, you saw something in his eyes that you didn’t think anyone else ever had - desire. “Din, you -”
“I’ve never done this before.” He wet his lower lip, taking a deep breath. “But you… you tasted so…” He groaned, his eyes closing as your grip on his hair tightened. “... so good, and I want …” He wants me, like this, he… You’d figured that at some point, it would come up with him, but you hadn’t thought that one of the first things Din would want to do was explore that particular part of your body in such an unknown way. “You’re gonna have to tell me what -”
“Just don’t bite me, Din.” Both of his eyebrows shot up, but before he could reply, you continued. “Well… you can bite, but just not…there.” His eyes darkened even further - you saw it clearly, but he nodded instead of speaking, and you kept your attention focused on him as he began to push your pants down and over your hips, the elastic waistband making it easy for him to remove them.
You were concerned - of course - because you didn’t know how the man would respond to the newly bared places of your body, but Din only took a deep breath and leaned in, mouth pressed to the scar on your abdomen. “I will never let anything like this happen again.” He looked up at you, resolve in his expression without letting his eyes lose any of their warmth. “Ever.”
“I know.” You let out a shaky breath as he moved lower, lips warm and plush against your skin. “Just… Din, just do what feels…oh, Maker!” You couldn’t help the rise in volume of your voice as he exhaled against your already damp skin, followed immediately by his parted lips, the lip of his tongue moving slowly against you. “What feels right, Din, you -” It’s pointless to even… You moved one hand to his shoulder, the fingers of the other still tangled in his hair, and watched as he moved; the tiny changes in the way he held his head giving him a new angle, his eyes closed.
He was holding onto the backs of your legs; gripping the flesh in both hands, and as he lengthened the strokes of his tongue against you, you felt your knees shake slightly, your hold on his shoulder changing. “Wouldn’t this work better if I…” He murmured without pulling his mouth away from you, the scrape of his beard on the inside of your thigh even more distracting than it had been moments earlier. Din took a breath, settling down so that his thighs were pressed against his calves, and you could see how turned on he was; the length of him clearly visible through his pants. “Lift your leg.” You stared down as he licked his lips, swallowing, and urged one of your legs up so that you could hook it over his shoulder. “I won’t let you fall over,” he continued, finally looking up at you again. Oh, Din.
“You sure you haven’t done this before?” It was your turn to whisper and you saw the flush rising in his cheeks, the way his eyes briefly shut at the compliment. “Because it seems like -”
“I haven’t participated before, but that doesn’t mean I’ve never watched.” Wait, what? “Lots of hours alone on my ship.” He shrugged and then looked away, eyes focused back on you. “Do… you like to be touched, too? When someone’s -” The idea of answering that question - of the man even asking it was unexpected, but instead of letting him sit in silence and waiting, you said his name, cradling his jaw in both hands to force him to look at you again.
“I like it when you touch me. I told you, do what feels right. If I don’t like something, or if you don’t … we’ll figure it out together.” He nodded once and then let out another breath. “Don’t overthink it, Din. There’s no reason to.” You didn’t know what else to say, and after a few moments of him watching you, his eyes darting over your face, you were about to lower your foot back to the floor - but he moved, bringing his face back toward your body, this time with his head turned.
He kissed the inside of your thigh tenderly, lips lingering in each place before he moved closer to the apex of your thigh and did it again. Chest rising and falling rapidly at the sensation, you watched as he moved, the new position opening you up almost completely to him. But the man paid no attention to what was waiting for him; instead focusing on the inside of your leg - fingers digging deep into the very top portion of the back of your thigh. He’s running out of skin, you realized as you felt his nose brush against the crease of your leg. He -
You couldn’t help letting out a shaky moan as he grazed your sensitiive skin with his teeth and then bit down - not hard enough to be truly painful, but hard enough to make you wobble on your foot again, though his grip on you never wavered. I did tell him not to - Before you could finish the thought, he’d released your skin and turned his head again, foregoing any of the tentative kisses that he’d started with and returning his lips to your glistening skin, tongue moving over it with purpose.
It caught you off guard, but as he continued, delving into you with slow and deliberate thrusts, you realized that that had been the point - the man wanting you to be as off-kilter as he was. It worked, you admitted to yourself as you closed your eyes and let your chin drop toward your chest. He… it… it feels… You hummed out in appreciation as he sped his movements up, long strokes shortening and then turning into quick flicks, and Din groaned into you as you flexed your leg muscles, widening the gap between them - and opening yourself up more for his waiting mouth. “Keep going, Din. You -” Biting down on your lip, you sucked in a breath, fighting not to roll your hips toward him, but it was a losing battle, the subtle motion dragging your skin down and over his lower lip and chin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -”
“Don’t. Apologize.” He growled out the words, eyes flicking back up. “Do it again.” He resumed the motion of his tongue and lips, and you threw your head back, eyes closed and letting yourself react. He wants to hear me, you realized as he changed pace with every sound that left your lips - sighs and single word affirmations, the mumble of his name and the tug on his hair as his tongue flicked over a new and particularly sensitive spot. Din was used to silence - used to sex in the dark, used to hiding, and he didn’t want that with you. No more.
“Like that, Din.” You paused, a breathy moan escaping from the back of your throat as you ran both hands through his hair. “Just li-” He let go of your leg, hand moving over your curves and then in, and when you realized what he was doing - that he was going to put the partial conversation you had to the test, you urged him on, pulling one hand away from his head and closing your fingers around his arm.
There was no resistance from your body as he pushed a single finger into you, and you couldn’t stop your slight downward thrust to meet it, your mouth hanging open at the feeling of it. Curling the digit as he pulled it out and then straightening it again before repeating the motion, you felt him pull his mouth away from you, the man taking a deep breath only a few seconds later. Look at him. Opening your eyes, you looked down and saw that Din was watching his hand, focused on the way his slick finger looked as it entered and left your body. “More?”
“More.” You barely heard yourself answer - but he heard you clearly, another finger added the next time he thrust into you, the man’s thumb tucked against his palm. “If you keep doing that, Din, I’m going -”
“That’s what I want.” He met your eyes again - but only for a moment, the man’s attention returning to what he was doing after mere seconds. “If… you do.” Do I? He’s really going for it, he’s…
“Yeah.” You hummed again, nearly panting at the way what he was doing with his hand felt. “If you … yes, Din.” It was all the encouragement he needed, mouth returning to its prior position, the man’s attention back on what he’d been doing. The combination of his mouth and fingers on you was more than you’d expected; the gentle suction of his lips offset by the flick of his tongue while he worked you with both fingers - spreading them apart just enough to stretch before dragging them out slowly. You were making noise - not words, nothing comprehensible, but it didn’t matter to either of you. We needed this. Needed to … The sounds ended at once as you managed to speak his name, the heat building in your belly and beginning to spread.
You were close, and you wondered if he knew it - wondered what he could feel as he moved against and within you, but your question was answered when you forced your eyes open and saw that Din was watching you, the tilted angle of his head and the arch of your back making it possible to meet his eye, though his lids were half-lowered. He’s enjoying this. He likes it, he -
Without warning, Din twisted his wrist, changing the pressure he was using slightly, and it was enough - one hand leaving his head to drop to your side, covering his fingers with your own, the other falling to his shoulder and squeezing, the edges of your nails surely leaving half-moon imprints in his skin. True to his word, he held you firmly upright even when you began to tremble, the man withdrawing his fingers one last time and then using only his tongue to bring you all the way over the edge.
It was intense - different than coming that way had ever felt before, and your pleasure lasted for what seemed like endless moments; muscles contracting and your toes curling as you squeezed your eyes tightly shut. You were saying his name over and over, the syllables running together, voice strained.
Though your thoughts were hazy at best, you realized that he hadn’t stopped when you came, continuing to run his tongue over your skin, though he’d stopped focusing so much on one area. “H…hey.” You let go of his shoulder, taking a deep breath and opening your eyes as you pushed him away from you. “Din, hey.”
He took a deep breath, and you let your eyes wander over his face - lips and chin and even some of his beard slick with you - and then you looked down for the first time since before he’d started, taking note of the still-straining material of his pants. All that time and he didn’t even touch himself, he was … Legs still somewhat shaky, you dropped to your knees in front of him, reaching out to touch his face again. “Hmm?” He blinked slowly, the corners of his mouth quirking up slightly. “Did I -”
“You did, Din. That was …” You didn’t know what to say, so you trailed off, rubbing at one of his cheek with the pad of your thumb and then doing the same over his lips, the man taking your finger into his mouth without hesitation. Ok, I didn’t … that … alright. “Now I’m going to take care of you, Din. Get off the floor.”
The hand that wasn’t on his face was resting on the material of his pants, fingers curled slightly around him while you spoke. He grunted at your touch, looking down and then back at you. “Let me rinse my… I want to kiss you, I -”
“So stand up and kiss me, riduur.” You said it without thinking and at the sound of the Mando’a he nearly shot to his feet, hauling you up with him and kissing you in a fluid motion. The momentum carried both of you backwards, your knees hitting the end of the bed, but once again he kept you upright, his kiss urgent. The taste of yourself on his tongue was something that you weren’t used to - but you didn’t want to stop, your only thought of Din and the way he was touching you, almost claiming you the only way he could on the ship - taking advantage of every moment the two of you had together and indulging in your body. “Take these off, Din. I want to -”
You wanted to taste him, too - to use your mouth and hands on him, to return the pleasure that he’d just given you; not because you felt obligated or because you assumed he expected it, but because he was yours, and you wanted him to know it. “There’s another Mandalorian custom, and it…” He was rubbing the back of his neck, completely alert. “And even though we’re not …” He sighed. What is he trying to say? “The first time Mandalorians are together after their commitment ceremonies is supposed to be a chance to…” His eyes moved down, settling on your abdomen for a few seconds before they moved back up. “To grow a clan.” Oh. Oh, that makes sense. “That isn’t true or possible for us, but I still…” He reached for you again, hands settling at your hips. “I’d like to keep that tradition, if -”
“Of course, Din.” You undid the button at his waist, both hands easing the material over his hips. “We’ll have plenty of time for everything else.” He nodded back, the uneasy look leaving his eyes and once his pants were off, the two of you climbed into the bed together, the man kissing you again. He didn’t stop you when you encircled him with your fingers, hard and smooth against your palm as you stroked along his length. You urged him to continue when he thrust into your hand, increasing the pressure of your grip to make up for the long minutes he’d gone untouched while taking care of you, but before too long, Din pulled away, nearly panting, and you could tell that he was trying to rein himself in. “How do you -”
“I want to look at you.” He didn’t blink. “I want you to see my face.” With that, you had no more questions, tongue darting out to wet your lips as you agreed. “Lay back.” You did as he asked, settling down on the blankets and pillows, and waited, Din taking himself in hand and continuing what you’d started. It was the most physically vulnerable that you’d seen him - but as you watched him watch you, you realized that it wasn’t just physical; he’d committed to you verbally the night before - and emotionally as well, the removal of the helmet breaking down the last real barrier between you.
He wasn’t anxious; though you still couldn’t read his thoughts in the same way that you could others, you could feel that he was at ease - comfortable in his decisions and the position you were in, and that was good. He didn’t regret his decision, wasn’t letting his lack of experience in similar situations color his behavior. He wanted you to see him - and you wanted to look - every minute of every day, even though you knew it wasn’t possible.
“C’mon, Din.” You reached for him, pleased to see that the man moved closer to you on both knees, crawling between your legs and using one arm to brace himself as he leaned down, mouth landing on your throat. Once again pulling on his hair, you guided his head up, wanting to kiss him again, and when he did, you let go, reaching between your bodies to touch him again, Din’s large hand settling over yours a few seconds later.
He pulled away from you in the moments before he entered your body, eyes locked with yours, and at the feeling of him, you exhaled, the sound half breath, half moan. But Din’s eyes closed only seconds later, followed by his mouth falling open, a grunt escaping as he sunk into you as far as the angle would allow. Without your earlier orgasm, it wouldn’t have been possible - but the motion was fluid, Din whispering your name as he opened his eyes again, waiting until he had control over his emotions to begin moving in earnest.
That was different too - seeing his face and watching the way his muscles moved - the tic in his jaw, a slight curl of his lip as you began to meet his thrusts with movement of your hips, the way his sweat-damp hair curled and fell over one eye - those things were for you and you alone to see and love, the same way you were his - the reactions he drew out of you with each motion of his hips possible only because it was him in the bed with you. I love you, Din. So kriffing much. There were tears in your eyes as he lowered his head again, mouth next to your ear and various words in Mando’a little more than broken whispers. Copad gar. Linibar gar. Ratiin.
It was almost enough to push you over the edge again, but you were determined not to come before he did; It’s only right, you thought as you scratched your nails down his back, Din’s thrusts growing longer. “I want to see you come, Din.” Turning your head, you forced the words out, hearing the shudder as you fought to keep quiet - the thought of Grogu sleeping downstairs never far from your mind. “Want to -”
“Too. Soon.” He grunted the words out, head shaking back and forth. “Too fast.” It’s not. He pushed an arm under your body, palm cradling the back of your head, and braced himself with the other, staring down at you. “Too -”
“No.” Shifting beneath him, you bent one leg, winding the other around the back of his thigh. But it was the movement of your hands that surprised him, fingers gripping his ass and pulling him toward you, forcing him even deeper. “It’s not.” He quickened his pace, lowering his head again so that he could rest his forehead against your chest, both of you sticky with sweat, despite the earlier trips to the fresher. “Look at me, Din. Come on.” Letting go with one hand, you trailed your fingers up the center of his back, the muscles flexing beneath your touch.
You weren’t prepared for the intensity of his stare as he opened his eyes again, meeting yours briefly before he closed them. His hips stuttered once, and then the man began moving faster - thrusts short and quick, his eyes still squeezed shut. He cried out when he came, his entire body going rigid for long moments, and Din’s lips parted as he spilled inside of you. You closed your eyes then, too, urging him to press his chest to yours, to rest his cheek on your shoulder as he slowed the movement of his hips.
It didn’t matter if you came again - you were content to enjoy the feeling of Din above you, his weight comforting, but when the two of you shifted, the short, coarse hair at his base rubbed against your skin and made you hiss in pleasure, unconsciously circling your hips and chasing the feeling. Despite the fact that he was tired, Din picked up on your movement, rolling his hips into yours slowly without pulling completely out of you. It only took a few movements and then you came, too - the high not as intense as earlier, but still just as fulfilling.
You felt yourself tighten around him, Din groaning at the feeling of you drawing him back in slightly, and when you finally let your hands drop from him and onto the bed, he took a deep breath, nuzzling against the side of your face and saying your name. “You alright?”
You tried to answer, but no words came out; instead, you just nodded, sighing as he pulled himself off of you and then lowered himself onto his back beside you. It took a few seconds of searching through the wrinkled blankets, but you found his hand, linking your fingers together and squeezing, the man’s grip tightening in reply. You were both catching your breath, the bright light of the room almost too much after so long of it being what you needed.
“You know …” You cleared your throat, turning your head toward him. “Being able to use the Force to move things right now would be really nice for that light switch.”
He chuckled in response, rolling onto his side and using his free hand to cup your cheek, kissing you quickly. “You’ll learn. Grogu can teach you.” At that, you laughed, the man’s quiet reply joining yours only seconds later. Maybe he can. And maybe I’ll just get better on my own. “I’m gonna go check on the kid, get something to clean us up with.”
He disappeared shortly after, only pulling on his pants before he left the room, and you watched him go, still laying on the bed. You knew that it wouldn’t always be the way it was on the ship - that the Razor II was an insulated bubble - the confines affording you closeness and privacy that a lot of other people would have hated as more time passed. But you didn’t - and you didn’t think Din did, either, especially when it meant that he could walk around without worrying who could and couldn’t see him. We’ll make it work.
With a sigh and a stretch, you sat up, already feeling slightly sore and overtired, but instead of letting the fatigue win out, you redressed in the shirt you’d been wearing, pulling the top blanket off of the bed and replacing it with a different one, giving yourselves a clean place to sleep. By the time Din got back, you were ready for him, taking the damp cloth from his hands and wiping yourself down, his eyes never leaving you as you did. That done, you traded the shirt for pants, your outfit similar to his - and then took the bottle of water from his hand, taking a long drink. “Thank you.” He nodded, flipping the light off, and when both of you were comfortable in the bed again, you asked about Grogu.
“Sound asleep. I opened the pod and he was snoring. I know when he’s faking it, and he was out.” That made you happy - knowing that even though you and Din hadn’t exactly been quiet, the kid hadn’t woken up. That means that we don’t have to … wait until he stays with Peli or Cara or … “We should sleep for a few hours.” He held you against his chest, fingers running idly down your side. “And then when we wake up -”
“Sounds like a plan, Din.” You moved closer, breathing deeply. “Because I’m kinda tired.”
—
He woke up a few hours later, as did you, and the two of you didn’t turn the light on that time, instead shedding the pants you wore and barely moving from the positions you were in. Din took you from behind, his movement slow and much more controlled, the man’s mouth roving between the back of your shoulder and your throat as he murmured to you in a mix of Basic and Mando’a, your quiet replies urging him to keep going. You heard familiar words - like jate’kara - and phrases, like ner vencuyot, a shiver running through your entire body at the way he referred to you as his future - and when you finished, both of you drifted off to sleep again, not even bothering to get redressed.
He was gone when you woke up, but you expected that, knowing how early Grogu had probably gotten up, and once you’d pulled on new clothes and tied your hair back, you went looking for them.
You didn’t look far - the two of them in the cockpit, Grogu settled into one of the extra chairs and Din in the pilot’s seat. Hi. You waved at the kid, giving him and smile and then leaned over the back of Din’s seat to press a kiss to his cheek. But instead, you found his upturned face waiting, the man grinning. “Good morning.” He hadn’t bothered to smooth out his hair, the curls wild and fluffy, sticking out at all angles, and you wasted no time kissing him, biting your lip as you straightened up and moved to the empty seat.
“Have you been up long? I don’t even know what time it is.”
“Only an hour.” He gestured to the nav screen in front of him. “Got a message from Mandalore, and one from Fett. He wanted to know how things went, and they were wondering when we’d be back.” Too soon. “Sent a message back to Mandalore, but I haven’t gotten back to -”
“Well I’m here now. We can send a message together, and he’ll know how it went.” Din nodded, leaning forward to push a few buttons. Oh. “And, Din?” Glancing over, you cocked your head to one side. “You didn’t flinch this morning when I walked in. No helmet, and -”
“No, I didn’t.” He smirked at you, ducking his head. “We’ll call Fett. And then … then we need to talk more about Mandalore.” Great. You sighed, swallowing hard. At least there’s one thing to look forward to today.
—
Copad gar = want you
Linibar gar = need you
Ratiin = always
Ner vencuyot = my future
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Pairing: The Mandalorian x You (just getting to know each other. nothing serious.) (female reader insert; no ‘Y/N’)
Word count: 6,234
Rating: None necessary. Maybe some language? Mentions of canon-typical violence
Summary: Taking off from Nevarro and entering hyperspace for the first time with Mando and Grogu, you’ve got a lot to learn. Is the man going to welcome you onto the ship, or will it be much different than you imagine?
Author’s note:
Check out the earlier parts of this story by visiting my Masterlist
Thank you for coming back and reading! I hope you enjoy this one. It’s a lot more setup, but there are a couple very important conversations in here.
If you want to be added or removed from my tag list, please let me know!
(banner made by @malionnes)
The following day, Karga and Cara walked with the four of you back toward the ships, Grogu floating next to the Mandalorian. You caught Terys still giving the man looks every now and then, a blush rising in her cheeks when he spoke, even though you knew she was regretting her behavior from the previous night. It’s her own fault. She’s embarrassed, and he’s acting like nothing happened.
You knew in the grand scheme of things, it didn’t matter; Terys likely wouldn’t be your pilot when it came time to go back to the Academy, and she’d probably never see the Mandalorian again - unless she looked on purpose. I wonder how many women try to … and how many he takes up on it. You glanced over at the man as he walked, the beskar glinting in the early morning sun, and couldn’t help smiling. “So this is it, Mando.” Karga spoke as you stopped in front of a ship - something that looked to be a pre-empire gunship - and looked up at it, eyes narrowed. “Heading out with some help this time?” Terys continued walking, leaving your group behind, and Karga turned, his back to the ships and his eyes on the taller man in front of him. “Not like -”
“You act like this is the first time he’s taken off from Nevarro with the kid, Karga.” Cara’s arms were crossed over her chest and she eyed you before she looked at him, lips twitching into a smirk. She said your name and you swiveled your head, waiting. “Don’t let him or the kid lie to you, he flies much better when there’s someone with more than three fingers in the co-pilot’s seat.” You caught Grogu’s thoughts at that, a loud “hey!”, and immediately began to laugh, one hand rising to cover your face. “What’s he thinking?”
“He’s a little upset, Cara.” You raised an eyebrow, seeing the look on Grogu’s face, his tiny teeth bared and eyes screwed almost shut. “He -” You laughed again, even as the gangway of the ship began to lower, the Mandalorian pressing buttons at his wrist. “I think he believes that he’s the best co-pilot that this ship has ever seen.” You heard a noise that could have been considered a snort from the Mandalorian’s modulator, but he didn’t say anything else, even though Cara and Karga joined you in quiet laughter. That’s good to know. I made him laugh. “Let me say goodbye to Terys, and and make sure I didn’t forget anything. Then …” You took a breath. “Then I’m ready.”
“Five minutes.” The Mandalorian spoke directly to you, and with a single nod you turned away, headed back to the ship you’d flown to Nevarro on. It was quiet in the hold, and you knew that she was in the cockpit, prepping for takeoff. Quick goodbye, a quick thank you, and a …
“I made a fool of myself, didn’t I?” You heard her voice as you stepped through the doorway, the woman busy flipping switches on the console. “I threw myself at -” Yeah, you did.
“No.” You leaned against the seat, watching her. “You just had a few too many after a couple days in hyperspace, and you … it happens. I’m sure he’s dealt with it before, and you … you won’t be the last, but I wouldn’t …” You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m sure I’ll say something really stupid to him while I’m on board, so there’s that to look forward to…” I do always end up running my mouth.
“Doesn’t help.” But she finally laughed, rubbing a hand over her face. “The ale here is strong, so I …” If that makes you feel better. “Take care of that kid, alright? I don’t know him well, but this is a pretty … this isn’t a small thing, and I know …” She looked over at you. “He could be the future.” I know. So do Luke and all of the … “You’re supposed to check in every few weeks, unless something goes wrong. You know how to send the -” We’ve gone over this.
“Encrypted if possible, yes. Not from our… his ship, and only right before we leave one planet for the next, unless there’s an emergency. There’s…. There’s no current threat, but we can’t be too careful.” Not with Grogu. Not with Mando. Not with a … “Thank you, Terys. For getting us here. For getting him back to his family.” The woman waved you off with one hand, but you saw that she was smiling, too.
“Yeah, yeah.” She took a deep breath. “Hope you have better luck with him than I did.” What does that mean? “It’d be a pretty long couple months if he only says ten words to you.” You laughed at that, agreeing, and then pushed away from the seat, turning toward the cockpit doorway. “Take care of yourself.” You murmured the same to her and stepped out of the room, back toward the lowered ramp. With one final look around the hold, you set your shoulders and nodded to the empty room. Alright, I guess it’s time to go.
Karga and Cara were gone, and it only took you a few steps to reach the Mandalorian’s ship, your feet light on the ramp as you climbed it. The cargo hold wasn’t quite spacious, but it was larger than the ship you’d flown in on, and it had two levels. Where you at, kid? Up. You lowered your bag to the floor and then climbed the ladder to the cockpit entrance, seeing that Mando was already seated, Grogu in one of the extra chairs. Pretty far back for a copilot, but… “Hey, pal.” You swiped at the top of his head with one hand, lowering yourself onto the other seat, but before you got comfortable, Grogu was climbing down from where he sat and toddling toward you. “No, kid, co-” But you bent down to grab him nonetheless, shifting him into one arm while you buckled up. “Sorry that took so long, I -” The ship. The ship.
Grogu struggled in your arm, twisting his head to look up at you and whining quietly, paying no attention to your frown. Calm down. “What’s he saying?” You were still at least a few minutes from taking off, and he turned his head toward the two of you. “If he’s -” Different. Different ship. Not home. You stared down at him, blinking. What? Do you want me to say that? Yes.
Gritting your teeth, you closed your eyes. “He… he says it’s different. The ship.” Not home. “He says it’s not home.” You winced as the words came out, but the Mandalorian didn’t even move. “I don’t know what that means, I’m -”
“It’s not the same ship.” Huh? He spoke quietly. “I … he wouldn’t have …” The Mandalorian’s head lowered briefly and then he pressed another button before you heard the ramp closing, the cockpit doors sliding shut. “Let’s get out of here, and then I’ll explain.” You tightened your hold on Grogu, eyes on the window in front of you. I don’t know what any of this means.
It only took seconds for you to feel the gentle vibration of the ship beneath you as you lifted off from the surface of the planet. Calming slightly, Grogu cooed in your lap as he watched the Mandalorian. The man’s gloved fingers wrapped around the shifter, his other hand firmly on the knob to his left as he faced forward. It was different than being in the cockpit with Terys; you could tell the man was comfortable in his ship, like he’d been flying in it for years - even though, according to him, it was new to him.
You left the atmosphere of Nevarro, and instead of setting a course for one of the puck destinations, he set the ship to drift, fingers tightening around the controls. “The kid… Grogu is right. This isn’t the same ship he was last in.” Why?
“He asked why.” You spoke quietly, feeling Grogu’s tension, his entire weight settled against your side. “He’s -”
“The day that he got … that he reached out to the Jedi on Tython, Moff Gideon, he …” The Mandalorian turned toward you and Grogu, finally reaching out for the kid. “He blew it up, pal. It’s gone.” The cooing turned into a low whine, and as you transferred his weight to the man’s hands, you felt your heart beating faster. Oh, no. The Mandalorian looked down at Grogu, whose eyes were wide, mouth hanging open. “Had to come get you with some new friends on a different ship, and it took me a while to find another one like this.” His helmet tilted up and toward you. “It’s the same design. Same … era, same ship, but it’s not the Crest.” He cleared his throat. “Nothing ever will be, but at least it’s familiar.” Sorry.
“He apologized.” You whispered the words, fingers curling into tight fists as you felt the tension in the room rise. “I think he’s sorry for -” The Mandalorian moved quickly, lifting Grogu and tucking him against the beskar on his chest.
“No. No, no, no, pal. Don’t be sorry.” He hugged Grogu tightly, head ducking all the way down. “Lost almost everything - weapons, supplies, ammo… I’m just glad we weren’t on it.” He shifted, using his free hand to reach down and into a pouch on his belt, and when he brought it back up, you saw something round and metal held between his fingers. “Not all gone, though. I k-” Both of the kid’s hands reached up, fingers grabbing for the object. It’s the thing I saw in his memories, the thing he dreams about. “Whoa, kid, it -” Ball! As soon as it was in his hands, Grogu turned toward you, holding it up proudly between his fingers. Mine!
“He showed that to me a lot, Mando. In his thoughts, and even in his … in his dreams, too.”
“You can … see dreams?” He sounded curious and a little afraid, but he didn’t waste time, spinning away from you to settle Grogu down onto the third seat, and then facing you again. “Is that … are all Jedi -”
“No.” You closed your eyes. “Again, like I said to you before, I’m not a Jedi, but …” You lifted a hand and chewed on the tip of your thumb. “People use the Force differently, depending on …” How do I explain this? “It’s like you.” You licked your lips, leaning slightly closer to him. “You’re good at tracking - it’s a skill that you’ve improved over time, right?” He nodded once. “You can sense people, sense what they’ll do, and where they’ll be - how they’ll act, because you’ve been around different kinds of people enough to see the patterns.” Taking a breath, you glanced down at Grogu, who’d climbed from the seat back onto Mando’s lap, and then back up at the Mandalorian. “I know those things about other people after meeting them once, because I can focus in on what’s in their heads. I don’t need the patterns or the experience, I just need to concentrate. It’s nowhere near as useful as the Jedi and others that are one with the Force that can actually see the future, because I can’t do that. I just see now… or in the past, I guess. And it helps me to predict how people will act in the future, or to know how I should act around them.”
“Then how did you see his dreams?” You bit your lip, thinking about how much to tell him, and decided to go with as much as you knew. Why not?
“The kid’s really smart, and really strong. He’s …” You reached out, taking one of Grogu’s outstretched hands between your thumb and forefinger. “He’s very powerful, and he’s still learning to control it, which means he’s different than other people, other … beings.” I am? You nodded at him. You are. “So his dreams are more like thoughts because there’s so much power within him, and when he sleeps? He can’t control what he dreams.” You squeezed Grogu’s hand, then let it go. “I felt him. When he called to Master Skywalker? To Luke?” The Mandalorian barely moved, but you heard him take a quick breath. “Even from so far away, I felt him, and there was no reason for it to be that way. So I think we’re … connected somehow, but no one knows … why.” The cockpit was silent, and even Grogu looked down, returning his attention to the metal sphere. “Most, um, most Force … users?” You shrugged. “They speak to each other with thoughts. It’s a way to communicate without giving anything away, and it’s helpful in combat or in negotiations.” At that, the Mandalorian nodded multiple times. Of course he understands that. “But usually, those abilities come with others, too. Strength. Agility. The ability to move things, like he did with you and the mudhorn.”
“You know about that?” Your eyes moved to the Mandalorian’s shoulder, the signet on his pauldron gleaming in the low light and reminding you of their connection. “About how -”
“Yes.” Swallowing, you clasped your hands together. “He protected you for the first time that day. And it’s a good thing, because he …” Grogu had the ball near his mouth, paying no obvious attention to the two of you, even though you knew he was listening. “You needed each other.”
“We did. We do.” You watched as he tweaked the end of one large, green ear, his visor turning back to face forward. “Can you do that? Move things?” At his question, you froze.
“No,” you whispered. “And I won’t try.” Grogu’s whine surprised you, the child struggling in the arms that held him, twisting toward you. Won’t hurt anyone. “I -”
“Hey.” The Mandalorian loosened his hold on Grogu and then held him out toward your lap, letting him go only once he’d made his way onto your legs. “I didn’t mean to -”
“No, it’s fine.” You swallowed hard, letting out a shuddering breath. “You didn’t …” He didn’t know about my sister. He didn’t know about my … “I did that once, the first time I realized that I could … that something was …” You felt the tears rising in your eyes, Grogu pressing himself tightly against your body, cheek against your chest. “I ended up hurting someone, and so I … even at the Academy, I …” Raising your gaze to meet the visor, you didn’t bother trying to wipe your tears away. “That’s one of the reasons I ended my training. The fear that I couldn’t control it? It’s dangerous. Being too emotional is …”
“I understand.” It went quiet again, and though you thought that the Mandalorian was looking at you, you had no way of knowing for sure. Not dangerous. You looked down, seeing that Grogu was staring up at you, the ball in your lap and both of his hands gripping your shirt. Not to us. Us? Do you mean you and me, kid, or ...Your eyes flicked to the man in the pilot’s chair and then back down. You’ll see. His belief in you slightly comforting, you finally reached up, swiping beneath both eyes. Enough.
“So, Mando.” You tried to lighten the mood, settling back into your chair. “It looks like you don’t have to worry about me in your head or in your dreams. The kid and I have a connection, so that’s why I … plus, you’ve got that helmet on, so -”
“I sleep with it off.” The casual admission stunned you into silence, breath catching in your throat. “If it will make you more comfortable I -”
“This is your ship.” You felt your heartbeat hammering behind your ribs. “You can sleep however you -” Just the helmet, or all of the armor? I don’t know why I … You blinked furiously, glad he was looking away from you. “Don’t change your routine just for me, it isn’t -”
“I won’t.” There was a finality to the statement, but it wasn’t unkind. “And you shouldn’t either.” With that, he leaned forward and began pressing buttons with one hand, reaching into his pouch with the other. What does he mean? I don’t have a routine, I … He thumbed through the pucks, setting one onto the flat surface of the console and pushed a button, a pale blue glow reflecting off of the beskar he wore - and off of the glass in front of him. “We’ll start with most difficult one.”
You didn’t know why he was announcing his plans - if it was for his benefit or yours, or even Grogu’s, but you didn’t say anything, just watching as he moved. He do this before? Yes. You smiled, finally feeling your heart rate dropping back to normal. Good.
“It’s going to take a few days to get out to Ryloth, and then from there, we’ll head to…” You listened as the man spoke, but somehow knew that he didn’t want - or need - you to answer. He’s just … he’s happy to have someone here to listen. You looked down, watching Grogu as he continued to play with the ball, sitting on your lap and once again facing forward. Well, two someones.
---
In the days that followed, the three of you settled in to life on the ship, the Mandalorian calling it simply Razor II. Grogu still kept to a schedule as if he was at the Academy, the two of you taking time each day to continue practicing with his abilities, you keeping a log of what you did so that you had something to report back in each check-in.
Sometimes the Mandalorian watched, perched on a crate in the corner of the cargo hold, asking questions as you and Grogu worked together, getting involved himself when necessary. You had a sneaking suspicion that the kid got him involved on purpose a few times; forcing the items he was lifting and moving off in the man’s direction and faking fatigue instead of retrieving them himself, perking back up at the man’s numerous praises.
When they would begin that, you gracefully bowed out, giving them time together and retreating to your sleeping quarters, which were on the top level of the ship. The Mandalorian - Mando, you reminded yourself each time - had explained that after finding the replacement ship, he’d made some adjustments to it and to the layout. He made it more comfortable. More of a … a home.
On the first night, while Grogu slept in his carriage in the corner of the cockpit, the man showed you around, pointing out the fresher and telling you you could leave your personal things there if you wanted, showed you the weapons locker, a small, deep compartment that he’d said had been the sleeping quarters on the Razor Crest. It was filled nearly from top to bottom with a stockpile of weapons that you’d never even imagined before; guns and ammo, rockets, spare fuel for his jetpack - there were even canisters of gas packed neatly into crates; the charge for his blaster and pulse rifle.
The Mandalorian spent a great deal of time showing you the weapons and explaining how they worked, voice catching as he touched the stock of the longest gun in the space, explaining that of all the things he’d lost when Moff Gideon blew up his original ship, that specific weapon had been the most difficult to replace, since it had been passed down from another Mandalorian, not simply bought. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was sentimental about it. You couldn’t help the small smile as he talked about the need for such an armory - his words weapons are a part of my religion echoing in your ears, even as he closed and locked the door.
His bunk was against the wall between the where the weapons locker and the fresher were, and where the carbonite system near the back of the ship was located; a tiny, narrow cot that could be folded up and out of the way when he wasn’t using it. That would be better off for me. He’s way too big for it. You’d wondered where Grogu would sleep, but before asking, your eyes fell on a large cubby just above the man’s pillow. It was essentially a blanket nest, and you knew the kid would love it, especially since it meant that when he opened his eyes, he’d see the man sleeping right in front of him. Good. Perfect.
The last thing he’d shown you was where you’d be sleeping, and it was on the second level - a larger space just in front of the short hallway that led to both the escape pod and the ship’s reactor. The bed was small - larger and wider than the cot, but definitely not huge, though it looked comfortable. That room was the actual sleeping quarters, and you knew it, but before you could raise that point, Mando had cut you off, both arms crossed over his chest, one shoulder leaning against the doorway.
“I thought you’d want some privacy. I don’t usually have women on the ship with me, except Cara, and she’s … she’s used to sleeping in uncomfortable places, so it’s never bothered her.” Not wanting to offend him, you’d just thanked the man, setting your bag down on the mattress and looking around. “It gets loud sometimes, especially during takeoff and landing, but I wouldn’t do either of those things if I knew you were sleeping here, unless it was an emergency.”
He was considerate, despite his no-nonsense reputation and his penchant for silence, and as the days passed, you became comfortable with him. He’d called the bounty on Ryloth the most difficult, but it still took him less than a day after you landed to bring his prisoner back, the man roughly forcing a Twi’lek he’d caught in Nabat through the ship’s door and directly into the carbonite chamber without a word to either you or Grogu.
Instead of taking a break, he immediately plotted a course for your next destination - Cadevine, and then to the next after that, a nondescript place called Kothlis. He’d collected three of the five bounties in just over a week and a half, sleeping in short shifts as you traveled between locations.
You spent time with Grogu, wrote in your journal, and spoke to the Mandalorian whenever possible, but true to your word, you kept out of his way as much as you could. It wasn’t because you didn’t want to talk to him; you just didn’t want to talk too much. It wasn’t what you were used to - the isolation, the quiet - but you couldn’t complain, because it gave you plenty of time to think.
Grogu spent his time sleeping near Mando as expected and you’d been right about that too, the child not once attempting to sneak into your room, even though you could still sometimes hear his thoughts, catching flashes of his dreams. You were happy for him. He seemed more focused than he’d been at the Academy, but when it was the three of you in the same room - cargo hold or cockpit - you were constantly answering questions for Mando, acting as the mediator between him and Grogu. That was when the man was more talkative, never hesitating to ask you to intervene and include yourself in the conversation.
They communicated fine without you - they had for the time they’d been together before, but you being there changed things, giving them an easier method for speaking to each other, even though it tired you out after a while. On the way between the third and fourth bounties - a four day trip to Neimoidia - you waited until Grogu had fallen asleep before returning to the cockpit, where Mando was leaning back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest. He’s sleeping. I - “I’m awake.” It surprised you, but you took the admission as an invitation, entering the room and taking a seat in the chair Grogu typically sat in, the one closer to the man. “I heard you coming up the ladder.”
“The kid’s asleep.” You sighed, eyes on the window ahead of you. “He was a handful today.”
“He was.” I don’t know what I… “It’s hard, on the ship to -”
“Maybe after Neimoidia, Mando? We could stop for a day or so, and land somewhere. There’s so much I’m sure he wants to show you that he can’t do on the ship.” Your words were met with silence, but you continued. That’s a good sign. “I don’t know that sector well, but there must be a safe planet where landing won’t attract too much attention. We can stay near the ship, but … open space. Fresh air. Time for the two of you -”
“Where will you be?” He turned his chair to face you, arms dropping and his hands resting on his thighs. “If Grogu and I are -” I … “You’re not here to babysit him, you know. You’re here with him, and …”
“Bari … My fr…” You swallowed. “Someone at the Academy said that that’s what I’d be doing here, with him. Acting as a nurse droid, basically, but it’s never …” You looked up, lips pressed together. “I’ve never felt like that’s what I was doing with him. You know how he is - he looks helpless, but he isn’t. He can get his own food if he’s not on the ship or stuck in a building, he can protect himself when it matters most, and he’s smart.” You laughed. “Well, most of the time. I mean he’s -”
“When we were together before?” The Mandalorian shifted in his chair, his armor clinking softly as the edges of the plates on his thigh and chest met. “He’d help me around the ship sometimes. Tried to do some electrical work with him once, but it -”
“Mando!” You were laughing, one hand reaching up to cover your mouth. “He’s just a kid, he can’t - “
“No, he couldn’t.” You heard him clear his throat. Did he just tell me something … funny? “But you’re right. Grogu’s … capable. And after spending time with you and the Jedi, he seems …” Trailing off, the man cocked his head to the side. “More.” You understood without him going into detail. He is. I’m glad you see it.
“We don’t know much about how he ages, because there are only two other confirmed … well, sort of confirmed beings like him, and they’re both gone now, but the best we can tell…” You leaned in, using your hand to prop your chin up, elbow resting on the console next to your chair. “In some ways, he’s like a five or six year old child. But in others?” You shook your head. “He’s seen and done so much. Survived so much, and he understands way more than…”
“Do you know more about what happened to him? Before?”
“No.” Your answer was fast - almost too fast, and you saw the way that the man stiffened. “No, and every time anyone tries to ...see? Or to ask? It… it isn’t …” You lowered your head. “He doesn’t even think about it. I think he’s blocked it out, because even when I tried to …”
“They asked you?” He sounded surprised, the stiffness leaving his body. “To look -” I didn’t think I’d have to tell this story so soon, but …
“Yeah.” You rubbed at your lower lip with one finger. “Like I said, for some reason, he and I get along better than … they thought that I’d be…” You thought back to the day you’d tried to access the memories in Grogu’s head, the way he’d actively worked to keep you from seeing anything, despite your persistence, the way it felt when your back hit the wall, limbs held in place with almost no effort on his part. “It was the only time he’s ever used his ability to … not hurt anyone, because he wasn’t trying to …”
“What did he do to you?” There was concern in the man’s voice, and you could feel it too, his posture changing as he moved to the edge of his chair. “Grogu. Did he -”
“He kept me out.” You shrugged. “Knocked the wind out of me, but I can’t blame him. He’s kept it to himself for so many years, and it was so soon after he came to the Academy. He was still missing you, he was still upset, he was still …” You took a deep breath. “In any other kid, I’d call it a temper tantrum, but with him? He was telling us no, absolutely not, and so … I never pushed again. I don’t know if the other Masters have, but I …”
“You care about him.” You nodded without pause, eyes focused on the t-shaped visor of the Mandalorian’s mask. “Even after -” Of course.
“He’s a kid, Mando. He doesn’t realize how strong he is, and back then he had no idea who to trust… I still don’t think he does, sometimes, to be honest, so how can I blame him?”
“I guess … You can’t.” Crossing your legs beneath you, you watched the stars for a few minutes. “Why haven’t you asked more about me?” Here we go. You had questions - hundreds of them - but didn’t know where to begin. “About the bounties, about my past, about my armor… or Mandalore?”
“Do you want me to?” Turning your head toward him, you narrowed your eyes. “I’ve heard you’re not … that you don’t talk much. Keeps things mysterious.” You tried to lighten the mood, but when he didn’t reply, you continued. “I guess… like I said on that first transmission, I’m at an unfair advantage, because there are things about you that I know that I’m sure a lot of people don’t, because of the kid.”
“Like what?” He was curious, but didn’t pry. Where to start? You flipped through the information you had, trying to pick out some of the more important things. See, Terys? I knew this would happen.
“Your profession requires you to be brutal most of the time, but you’re always gentle with Grogu, so I think you … stars I can’t believe I’m going to say this to you.” Taking a deep breath, you locked your eyes on his visor again. “I think that’s one of the things you missed most when he was gone, getting to separate parts of your life like that.” He didn’t acknowledge your words, and you chose something much less pointed next. “I know that you believe in your creed, and would only even consider compromising it if it was absolutely worth it.” That got a small nod. “I know that you considered the Guild your clan at first, but didn’t hesitate to do what you needed to get Grogu to a Jedi once he … was yours.”
“That’s not true.” There was regret in his tone, even the modulator couldn’t hide it. “At first, yes. But by the time I … when I realized I’d have to say goodbye? I questioned it. I didn’t want to -”
“Well he was your family by then. Your … aliit.”
“You know Mando’a?” The regret turned to surprise. “There aren’t -”
“I know a few words. We have historical texts at the Academy, I’ve read some of them, but I can’t … I can’t speak it. I’m not fluent.”
“Neither can I.” There was a pause and then you heard him laugh, the sound short but infectious, and after a few seconds, you were laughing with him, the mood shifting. “I know more than you, but it’s … not many people are know it well. On Mandalore, there are more that can speak it, but …” He went silent, taking a deep breath, and you watched his shoulders rise and fall. “What else do you know about me?” Maybe this isn’t as disastrous as I thought it would be.
“I know how he sees you. I know what he feels about you. I know that your armor is a symbol of your success and your skill. I know that you didn’t want what happened on that light cruiser, but you’ve accepted it.” Licking your lips, you continued. “I know that this past year has probably been really damn hard for you, because he’s not my kid, and even the thought of having to say goodbye to him has kept me at the Academy for much longer than I would have stayed there otherwise.”
It was the first time you’d admitted it out loud in such clarity, and you clapped a hand over your mouth in surprise. I shouldn’t have said that. “You stayed… for him?”
“I did.” Your words quiet, you looked down at the console, focusing on the shifter in front of you. “Before he came? I was considering leaving, just because I wasn’t doing any good there. I wasn’t training, I didn’t have a Master, I couldn’t advance … and then he called out, and I… it made me reconsider. And here I am, a year later, on your ship with that kid.”
“Why don’t you call him by his name? After Ahsoka told me what it is, and I started using it...he changed. He seemed to like it.” Rubbing at your eyes, you swore under your breath.
“Asking all of the big questions tonight, aren’t you?” You rubbed the back of your neck. “Everyone else at the Academy calls him by his name. But one of the first memories I saw… well… heard was of you calling him “kid” and “pal” … and it just slipped out. I remember my sister had a nickname that she liked, too, and I thought that…”
“And it stuck.” You nodded, still focused on the control panel. “So you called him that because of … me?” I did. “I… knowing his name made it harder to let him go.” You had a feeling that the conversation was the most talkative that the man had been in months - if not longer - but even though the topic was difficult, you weren’t in any hurry for it to end.
“I slipped sometimes, and called him Grogu, and he… he didn’t like it much. I think he wanted to be reminded of you, even though you weren’t there. And I’m not you. I never will be, but I like to think that I made it easier for him to …” You searched for the word. “Adjust.”
“So what should I call him? Grogu? Kid? Pal?” He shifted in the chair, moving closer to you. “Can you ask him?”
“I don’t think it matters, Mando.” You lifted your eyes and turned toward him, the chair creaking softly beneath you. Hesitantly, you reached out, your hand hovering over his knee, but at the last second, you lost your nerve, pulling it back and settling it in your lap. “You’re his father. You can call him anything, and he’ll be happy about it because you’re doing it in person.” Why did you do that? You know he doesn’t like to be touched without permission, you shouldn’t have even … The cockpit was silent, and then the Mandalorian abruptly stood, causing you to take a surprised breath and straighten up in your chair. Oh, damn. I made him -
But before your thoughts ran away, you felt his hand settle in against your shoulder, his gloved fingers curling slightly. “What does he call me?” The weight of his hand on your shoulder was a shock, but you were determined to not let him know how much it affected you - or the way it made the way he was feeling that much easier to read. Just because I wasn’t expecting it, nothing else. “The kid, wh-”
“His father.” You saw his fingers flex out of the corner of your eye; the yellow material at the tips curling inward against the dark material of your shirt as his surprise and curiosity changed to anxiety. “Sometimes it’s Mando, but not … not often.” Why lie? “That’s how I… what I call you to him, too. His dad.” He squeezed your shoulder once more, fingers lingering and then the weight was gone, the cockpit doors opening. Oh, Maker. Frozen in your seat, you waited until they slid shut again to lean forward, resting your head on your forearms and taking deep breaths. I didn’t touch him, but he … it was just … what does that mean?
You took a few minutes to collect your thoughts and then stood, too. I should sleep. It’s late, and I don’t think he’ll come back unless… You exited the cockpit and paused at the top of the ladder, glancing down into the darkness. You couldn’t see, but heard the sound of water running in the fresher, your fingers gripping the metal railing tightly. Don’t.
But it was too late, your mind already focused on the cargo hold - and the only conscious mind present. Things were still mostly undefined, emotion the strongest takeaway, but just as you opened your eyes again, determined to go into the bedroom and get to sleep immediately, you caught one clear thought - your name.
Magnetic: Introduction - It’s All Very Complicated
Pairing: None, yet.
Word count: 3,565
Rating: None, really. Yet. Some mentions of sex, general angst. This is truly an introduction.
Summary: Welcome to the Academy, where trained and capable Jedi work to teach the Force-sensitive how to best manage and utilize their abilities. Though you live there, you’re no longer training, and one of your main responsibilities is providing companionship and understanding to the newest Padawan: Grogu.
You’ve got a past, sure ... but is that past going to shape your future?
Author’s note:
This is the “sequel” to T’ad nac or’atu (Two No More) - and takes place about a year after Grogu left with Luke, featuring a female reader insert. There will be spoilers from seasons 1 and two of The Mandalorian throughout. If you didn’t watch the show, this won’t make much sense to you.
I’m terrified to post this, I’m gonna be honest. Even though this is a general introduction to this series, and I’m well into writing it ... it’s still scary. I’m very thankful to the people that have provided me with feedback, honesty, support and have offered to read parts of this for me.
This is going to be the shortest part by far, but I didn’t think that an 8,000 word introduction was the right call.
I hope you enjoy it. Feedback - both positive and critical - is always welcome.
(banner made by the absolutely talented @malionnes)
Before your eyes had even opened, and even though you were still half asleep, you sensed that someone was in the room with you. Again? Blinking, you let out a slow breath, giving your eyes time to adjust to the dim glow from the panel next to the door as the dream you’d been having slipped away, dark brown eyes and a cautious smile the only things you could remember. The room was silent, aside from the low hiss of cooled air through the vent, but then after a few seconds, you heard a quiet thud at the foot of your bed followed by a nearly inaudible whine. Again. “C’mere, Gr - kid.”
The blankets shifted with the added weight as he tugged on them, and you clutched the top edge to keep them from slipping off of you entirely while he climbed. Too cold for that. In the low light, you saw the curved top of his head and his sloping ears appear first, quiet coos accompanying them. Hey kid.
It didn’t happen every night, but at least three times a week, the little guy found his way into your room and into your bed, nesting right next to your upper body, your arm curled loosely around him as you both nodded off. “Couldn’t sleep again?” He moved more swiftly over the blankets, and it didn’t take long for his face to pop up right next to yours, mouth opened slightly, his massive eyes focused on you. No.
Lifting the corner of the blanket with one hand and groaning at the slight chill of air it allowed to enter the previously covered space, you paused as the kid dove beneath it, letting the material fall again as you felt him lay down next to you, more babbling noises a sign that while you were still on the edge of sleep, he was wide awake. “You could just knock, bud. It would be…” No knock. Too loud. “Fine.” You weren’t annoyed with him - not really - and despite the numerous ongoing middle of the night intrusions, you knew you’d never tell him to stop coming into your room. Keeping me from being lonely, little guy. Hope I’m doing the same for you.
It had been happening since shortly after the youngling arrived at the Academy and you were introduced. The first few times, you’d been quick to scoop him up, carrying him back to his room and tucking him into his bed before telling him that he had to stay put. While you didn’t have all the details about Grogu’s past, you knew that it had been a lot more unconventional than that of the other students and Masters, and that he wasn’t used to such a routine - or being alone at night. None of us were before we got here.
But he’d been subjected to more difficult times than you could imagine, and although you got glimpses of them through his thoughts, much of it was still hazy - as if he was trying to keep his early years a secret, hidden from everyone - even himself, but especially you and the other adults at the Academy. And you’re gonna make sure it stays that way, aren’t you. Absently, you stroked the back of his head, feeling the wrinkled skin beneath your fingers, along with the soft edge of the top of his sleeping robe.
He’d come back with Master Skywalker, straight from a dangerous confrontation with Imperial remnants on a light cruiser, and you’d quickly learned first hand that he was powerful with the Force - although uneducated and undisciplined in the ways of the Jedi. Prior to his rescue, a Mandalorian bounty hunter was responsible for his care, and that had been the case for almost a year, which added to the child’s lack of control and discipline. But it’s not his fault, it had to be that way.
The Mandalorian had done his best, keeping the kid as safe and as secure as possible for as long as possible. But the Empire finally caught up with them, leading to the kid’s current situation - separated from the people he’d spent a great deal of time with and studying under capable and trained Jedi. It had to be… hard. Yes. You glanced down, but could only see the side of Grogu’s face, his ear folded against the pillow beneath his large head. It is.
At the unusually candid response to your thoughts of his previous life, your tired mind turned back to the Mandalorian, eyes drooping shut. You’d also caught glimpses of him through Grogu’s thoughts; a tall and broad-shouldered man, covered nearly head to toe in gleaming beskar and a flowing cape, a sizeable helmet perched atop his shoulders and obscuring his features completely. Through Grogu’s eyes, you saw the man as imposing and to be feared, dangerous, though Grogu himself hadn’t ever been afraid, even in the beginning. You saw the weapons he carried; a huge rifle, a weighty blaster, even a flamethrower attached to his wrist along with a sleek, shining spear made of the same material as his armor. Not only could you see them in your mind, you felt the same sense of pride that Grogu felt when he watched the man wield them in the memories. He was the right person to protect you, kid.
You’d never met a Mandalorian before, but had researched them in the Jedi texts and other history books, learning of their ferocity and belief systems, which differed depending on their specific clans and Tribes. “It’s all very complicated, hmm?” You whispered the words, a smile on your lips as you pressed them gently to the back of the child’s head. He cooed again in response, but you felt that his mind was beginning to settle, his three-fingered grip on your forearm loosening. “It had to be a lot for you to understand, right kid?” The Way.
You felt the weight of the words from his thoughts, another slow, heavy breath leaving you, but the sadness Grogu knew when thinking of the man quickly changed into a happier emotion, and you closed your eyes, too, concentrating on his shifting thoughts. He was nearly twice your age, but Grogu was - for lack of a better description - still a child, and although he’d grown much stronger in the months he’d spent training at the Academy, his emotions were still much more volatile than the Masters would have liked. But it happens differently for everyone.
That volatility made it easier to read him even when he wasn’t focused on communicating with you, and while you knew that some of the other students seemed to fear the little green creature and the strength he radiated, you’d never felt the same, even though you knew that he knew when you were prodding at his thoughts - and he was more than capable of making you stop.
It wasn’t because you were prying; in fact, it was the exact opposite, and you’d spent countless nights like this one before, connecting with the kid as a way to calm him, giving him a chance to remember and share his earlier life with someone that was willing to listen. You helped him drift off to sleep by sharing space in your own mind with him, despite the fact that even the most untrained Padawans could tell that Grogu’s mind was often troubled - and that he’d seen and been a part of things that most of them couldn’t begin to imagine. “Sleep well, kid.” You murmured the words, feeling Grogu’s fingers tighten once more before they relaxed almost completely.
He fell asleep before you, and the last thought that you had before you followed him into sleep was of yellow-gloved fingers curled around a smooth silver ball, one of Grogu’s small hands outstretched toward it.
---
He was gone when you woke up the following morning, and despite the middle of the night interruption, you felt refreshed and awake as soon as you opened your eyes. I usually do after he’s here.
It was a strange relationship you had with the kid, but it worked, and you knew that along with being good for Grogu, it helped others focus elsewhere, so you were happy to continue. At least until his training’s done, and he rises in the ranks. Or… until I leave.
You blinked into the mirror, brushing your teeth. Him becoming a Knight was a looming possibility; every Padawan’s training lasted a different amount of time, and one of the other things that you knew about Grogu was that he’d had prior training - meaning that even with his lack of constant focus, he was far more capable of using the Force than most of the others within the Academy at his classification level. He was strong and smart - but still learning to control himself. Just a kid.
That didn’t mean that he was good at it all the time, or that it didn’t tire him out immensely when he overdid things, but the Masters spoke of him as though they already knew that when he became a Master himself, he’d be a formidable adversary when and if it became necessary. We’re still a while off from that, though. He’s still little, he’s … Spitting your tooth gel out, you straightened up, adjusting your shirt over your shoulders and glancing back at the door of your room as a new set of thoughts made themselves known to you. Bari’s coming.
You couldn’t help it sometimes, finding yourself unable to block out the thoughts around you - especially when emotions ran high, and it was the reason that your training had been halted. One of them, anyway. Rubbing a hand over your face, you turned away from the mirror and slipped your shoes on, striding to the door and opening it before the young man had a chance to knock. “Morning, Bari.” He looked shocked at your greeting but quickly recovered, nodding his head and greeting you by name, lips curving upward into a large smile. He’s happy to see me… as always.
“Hey. Can I walk you to breakfast?” Nodding in agreement, you stepped into the hallway and stayed next to the man, turning toward the dining hall. “You look like you slept well.”
“Yeah, I did.” You nodded in greeting as you passed others in the hall, taking a deep breath. “The kid ended up in my room again, and once he was there, I was out.”
“Grogu? Isn’t he a little old to -” Stiffening, you glanced over, watching as Bari eyed you. “I mean he’s been here for a year, he should have let go of -”
“They… his kind age different, Bari. And since there’s no record of what he is, we don’t know …” You bit your lip. “He’s a kid that had to leave his dad, and it’s only been a year. He might be fifty human years old, but who knows what that equals out to in his species.” You swallowed as you reached the dining hall, eyes sweeping over the room as you looked for Grogu. I bet he’s not here. I bet he’s with … “Besides, it’s not like he’s interrupting anything, so if it makes him feel better to sleep in a room with someone?” You reached for a tray, once again looking at the man next to you. “It’s fine with me.”
He was silent for a few minutes as the two of you loaded up your trays with food, and you could tell that he was conflicted. Say it, whatever it is. “What if there was someone else in your room? Would he -”
“I think he’d understand, Bari.” You slid into a seat at an empty table, reaching for a piece of fruit. “He’s not stupid, just … young.” You chewed thoughtfully, feeling as Bari’s emotions raced. He’s going to do it again. Ask me … “Why, who do you think that he’s going to -”
“You know that since you’re no longer training that the rules technically don’t apply to you, right?” He leaned in, eyes locked on yours. “You’re allowed to… I could … we could.”
“Bari.” You closed your eyes. “I know that you …” You glanced up. “It was my decision to stop training, and the Masters were generous enough to let me stay here anyway because they thought I could help.” You knew that it was rare, but also knew that any sensitivity toward the Force was looked at as an asset post-Empire, and turning you away wasn’t anyone’s first option. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m going to do anything to -”
“I know, I know.” You felt the frustration from him, and understood it. Bari had befriended you almost immediately upon your arrival to the Academy years earlier before it was even a shadow of its current self. You’d met him in the town a few miles away from the building, the young man providing a friendly face when you felt lonely at first, and then someone to talk to during breaks and on days off after you officially began your education. He was simply employed within the building, and despite it being unconventional for Padawans to closely befriend those not in the program, you were drawn to the boy, his honesty and openness welcome after separating from your family in the manner that you had. “But maybe just -”
“Bari, come on.” You shrugged, lifting your fork and using it to cut into a piece of your omelette. “We’ve talked about this. Us… It’s better to keep it the -” You felt it - for the first time in him, anger at your rebuff, but it quickly changed to forced nonchalance, and you were able to keep your expression even, too. That’s interesting.
“Someday, you’re going to leave the Academy. Even if it’s only to settle somewhere close by.” Bari leaned in, his eyes wide. “You won’t have to follow their rules all the time, and then you can … maybe you won’t still feel…” Not with you. Not … I’m sorry, Bari. We’ve talked about it. “You came here to make a life for yourself, and now that you’ve chosen not to follow the path of … their path? You’re free to follow your own, and that means…”
“Not until I decide to leave here.” You beamed at him, lips twitching upward as you glanced past him at the doorway. “And Bari? That’s not going to be for a while, especially with this little guy here.” He turned away from you after a few seconds and the two of you watched as Grogu floated through the room in a small pod, his head peeking up over the edge of it. Morning, kid. He looked in your direction as he passed by, eyes widening and mouth opening in greeting, one hand waving slowly. “Come on, Bari. How could I just leave him behind?”
“Yeah, I guess you couldn’t.” The man’s attention went back to his food, fingers holding his own fork loosely. “”I guess I just wonder …” His words trailed off and he raised his eyes to yours, forehead wrinkled. He wants me to see what he’s… His thoughts hit you full force and you couldn’t help the wince, looking away from the man across from you as he replayed in his mind the night the two of you - along with a few others from the nearby town - had spent an evening playing Sabacc and drinking too much Gizer ale and spice beer.
“Bari, come on.” You whispered the words, shaking your head. “That’s not fair.” But he kept thinking, the sadness in his gray eyes growing more pronounced. “We were barely old enough to drink, and we both agreed that things shouldn’t have gone that far that night.” And I meant it, even though you didn’t.
“But they did.” He shrugged. “You knew how I felt then, and how I …” He didn’t need to finish his sentence - he was right. You knew that the man liked you, that he hoped that after you’d chosen to stop training at the Academy, you wouldn’t go far - that you’d be free to be with him in every way. He said your name, giving you a small smile. “It’s not going to change. I’m sorry that I just threw all of those memories at you, but it … I think about it a lot. About you a lot.” You had too, for a while. It wasn’t the first time you’d fooled around with someone, and Bari knew it, but since leaving your home, he’d been the only one to even come close to getting you alone in a room with a bed.
You liked him - you really did - but you didn’t feel anything when you’d been with him - not anything that mattered anyway. Even after what had happened with your parents, their story was one that you admired; the spark between them, the defiance of both of their families to up and leave with only a small number of credits to their names, starting a family with little support. Because they believed in each other, in their future. Because they loved each other.
Bari had been the first regular person you’d met that wasn’t afraid of you after you’d realized that you were attuned to the Force, that you could do things that other people couldn’t, and his acceptance had been a large part of the reason you’d gotten so close to him in the first place. That was part of it. You sighed, looking down at your tray, suddenly much less hungry than you had been. Why we got close. It was nice to … He wasn’t attracted to you because of the Force, you knew that from his thoughts, and that was appealing to you, too, but as time had passed and you’d grown into true adulthood, the size and number of students in the Academy growing as well, it hadn’t been enough. It never was. It never would have been.
After that first and only night together - fumbling in the dark, hands moving over each other’s bodies and your thoughts mercifully blank for the first time in months - you’d made it a point to never let things go that far again; not with Bari and not with anyone else, either. Not while I’m here. Not while I’m setting an example. Not … As you thought, you closed your eyes again, seeing a flash of the deep brown from the dream the night before. “I’m sorry, Bari. That’s not what I want. That’s not why I’m still here.” Not to settle.
He grumbled in disappointment, but he didn’t have long to stew, as you heard a quiet mechanical whirring noise and Grogu’s levitating carriage pulled up next to you. Very hungry. You grinned at him and reached over, pulling the tray off the top of it and setting it onto the table before you turned toward him, holding out both hands. Happily cooing, he reached for you, ears perking up, and you lifted him from the nest of blankets, setting him on the table beside his plate. “Morning, Grogu.” Bari was making an attempt - for your sake - but you knew that the kid didn’t buy it for one second, only nodding once at the man before turning his focus back to his food. “Soup, again?”
“It’s easy for him to lift the bowl.” You raised an eyebrow, absently reaching over to straighten Grogu’s robe across the back of his neck. “Utensils are kinda hard with three fingers, right kid?” Right. You heard a quiet slurp as he raised the bowl to his mouth, turning your attention back to Bari and hoping that Grogu wasn’t listening - or thinking - too hard. “We can talk later, if you want.” You tried to smile, but it came out strained. “I have a full day today, and then tomorrow this little guy and I are …” You lifted your hands, miming covering Grogu’s ears as you mouthed the next sentence, voice barely louder than a whisper. “Leaving the Academy for a little while.”
It was meant to make him smile, but Bari only shrugged, eyes still on you. “If you want.” He stood, pushing away from the table, tray in his hands. “Doesn’t matter.” Before you could respond, Bari was walking away, his back the only thing you could see. Damn. You picked up your fork again, sighing as you returned to your breakfast. He’s mad.
“Nah, little guy.” You chewed on your eggs, glancing down. “You’ll understand when -” But you laughed as you saw him holding a spoon in one hand, leaning over a second bowl of food, the surface rippling as something moved within it. Yuck. But Grogu paid no mind to that thought, poking at the top of the liquid, his tiny body nearly vibrating in anticipation. “C’mon, kid. Don’t play with your food.” At that, he froze for a second before turning his head toward you, ears lowered and eyes wide, his emotion changing swiftly to sadness. “No, I wasn’t… I’m not mad, but it…” What did I say?
He blinked slowly and you saw his grip on the spoon tighten, another flash of his thoughts filling your head briefly. But this time it wasn’t a man’s eyes - it was the Mandalorian, hunched over and staring in your direction from the middle of a dimly lit room.
---
Tag list is OPEN. Please feel free to ask to be added!
Rating: None, really. This is pretty general. Din’s thinking about women, but it’s not graphic in any way.
Summary: Din’s adjusting to life on Mandalore as the Mand’alor, but his mind is constantly elsewhere. After a year, he receives a transmission from Luke Skywalker that changes everything.
Author’s note:
Hello friends! As I’ve been writing Magnetic, I’ve realized that I want to take a look at things from Din’s perspective. I’m not sure that I’ll cover everything in the story this way, but there are certain moments (especially ones coming up) that you’ll definitely benefit from being in the man’s head while reading.
These will always come after the corresponding parts of the story, because I want you, as a reader to experience things first ... but I promise, these will make things that happen in the main storyline make more sense.
IDK. Maybe this is dumb. Maybe no one cares ... but I do. And I think that since Din spends so much time in his own head, we should too.
If you want to be added or removed from my tag list, please let me know - it’s open.
His favorite part of the day was returning to his quarters and locking the door behind him. Even though his schedule wasn’t exactly full, the Mandalorian was usually exhausted by the end of the day - especially when those days extended well into the nighttime hours. And when she’s here? It’s worse.
He stood at the foot of his bed, carefully removing his armor piece by piece and stacking it on the shelving that was built into the wall behind him. Working his way down his body - beginning with the pauldrons on his shoulders, the man saved his helmet for last - as he always did - hesitating before removing it, but not because he didn’t want to. Did I forget anything? He sighed, pressing the button on the bottom edge and lifting the beskar from his head, taking two steps and setting it down on the the table next to his pillow without looking down. No.
After the reluctant removal on Morak and the no-hesitation answer to Grogu’s silent request on the light cruiser, the man found that taking his helmet off came easier for him both in private and in front of those that had previously seen his face. Though that number was still small enough to count on two hands, it was more people than he’d ever thought would see him for who he was: not the stoic, beskar encased warrior he presented to the galaxy, but the emotional man that he’d pretended didn’t exist for the better part of his life. But it was for the kid. All of it.
Undoing the closures on his flight suit, he stepped out of it and tossed it into the bin full of clothing leaning against the wall and raised both arms, stretching. There was no reason for him to spend each day fully armored, but for him, it was as much a habit as reciting the four most important words of his creed had become. This is the Way.
The area of Mandalore they occupied wasn’t dangerous, at least in the sense that they had to worry about an attack from others. Despite the fact that there were Mandalorians and residents of the planet’s larger cities that were still sympathetic to the Imperial remnants, no one paid any mind to their small group taking over an outpost hours by ship or speeder from the capital city of Sundari.
It was an arrangement that worked for him, but he knew that others in his group were growing tired of the waiting and planning, Bo-Katan included. Mandalorians were few in number, but he’d met many more of them than he ever thought could exist in the months spent on the planet’s surface. Some were like him, keeping their faces covered at all times; a few of them had even been members of the Nevarro covert. Others were like Bo-Katan and Koska and Axe; they’d sworn the Creed but still showed their faces. It was a lot for the man to come to terms with, but as he too had removed his helmet and exposed his face to other living things, he knew that it wasn’t his place to judge the way that they lived their lives. After all, under the beskar, we’re all just …
He sighed, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes and then dragging one hand down over his mouth and chin, stroking the short beard he’d allowed to grow. It was new for him, like most things on Mandalore were, but with no worry of unending fighting and constantly chasing bounties, there was no need for him to worry as much about the comfort level of spending long, difficult hours beneath the helmet. He’d let his hair grow, too, the ends curling down and around his ears and against his neck. Even Cara had commented on it the last time she’d visited the planet to update them on Nevarro’s progress, and he hadn’t been able to hold back the quiet laugh or keep the blush from rising to his cheeks at her words - the surprisingly positive reaction to his ‘new look’. Just a man. He sighed. Even though I hate it.
In the year since Grogu had left with the Jedi, the Mandalorian had learned many things about himself and about the galaxy, but he was still coming to terms with the way it felt for others to see his reactions to their words. Used to hiding behind the visor, each day was another learning experience for him - but they were also the reason he hadn’t committed to taking the helmet off for good. No one was pressuring him to, and it wasn’t even true that the other Mandalorians needed to see his face to trust him, to believe in him, but he knew that it would have helped. I’m not ready yet.
Closing his eyes, he bit down on his lower lip, drawing it into his mouth. For the first few months, he’d dealt with the raging loneliness he felt by hunting more bounties, Karga hesitant but in the end willing to give him more pucks. He’d also found ways to keep busy that had nothing to do with bounties and everything to do with the most basic human needs and desires.
He’d spent countless hours in the company of women - other Mandalorians, a Twi’lek that had reminded him too much of Xi’an for him to go through with anything, Morganians, Kiffar, a few human women on Coruscant and Naboo … but none of them filled the empty spaces in his chest or his mind in quite the same way the Child had. They were distractions - nothing more - and even though they sought him out more frequently and warmed up to him more easily when they knew he was the Mand’alor, it still meant nothing to him.
Mand’alor. He scoffed at the word, laying back on the bed and folding an arm beneath his head. The word still struck him each time he thought or heard it. It was his title - rightful because of the battle he’d fought and won with Gideon, but still not one that he wanted. But the galaxy - and the Way of the Mandalore didn’t care what a single man wanted. So he dutifully spent each day with the blade clipped to his belt, though he’d only ignited it a few times following the light cruiser and wasn’t comfortable using it. I will be. It will happen. He learned more about the planet and the people and their history, and he spent time with Bo-Katan and her crew, took an active part in the planning for their future.
The ultimate goal was to retake Sundari, but that couldn’t happen until they were truly ready, and all corners of the galaxy had been searched for others to join their cause. It was a waiting game, and one thing that the Mandalorian was good at was waiting.
He’d waited for his parents to come back and rescue him from the bunker. He’d waited for bounties to show themselves. Waited for the repercussions of rescuing the kid from the Client and the doctor. Waited for the day when his quest came to an end and he reunited Grogu with his kind.
But the waiting on Mandalore - for whatever would come next - was truly wearing on Din. Maybe if it was my home, then I … But he sighed, turning his head to the side at the sight of a blinking red light reflecting off of the shining surface of his helmet. Who would leave a message?
Din sat up again, reaching for the device on the tabletop and pulling it into his lap. Cara would have tried the ship. I just talked to Bo-Katan. Karga wouldn’t… Frowning into the darkness, he pressed play. There was silence for a few seconds, but then at the sound of the voice coming through the small speaker, the Mandalorian swore under his breath, fatigue all but gone. Skywalker.
“”I’m hoping this message reaches you, Mandalorian. This isn’t an update like the others I’ve sent. This is …” There was a long pause and Din heard a slow exhale. “This is different.” Different? Is the kid… “Grogu’s been struggling. Not physically, but … mentally. We - the other Jedi Masters - have talked about it, and agree that he needs to see you again, to spend time with you. It’s been a year since you’ve seen each other, and we… I think that it’ll help him one way or another.” Luke paused again and Din lowered his face into his hands, the tips of his fingers gripping the ends of his hair tightly. This isn’t … he … the kid… I… “And I don’t mean a few days, either. I’m thinking long term. You know how to reach me, Mandalorian. I’ll be waiting.”
The transmission cut off there, the light going dark. But Din saw none of it, his eyes closed and hands still in place. Seeing … seeing the kid again? Can I? Should I? He raised his head, looking up and into the darkness. He wanted to; there was no question about it. The seed had been planted - if Luke and the other Jedi thought that Grogu needed time away, time spent with him, who was he to say no? But … He looked around the room, sparsely furnished - barely more welcoming than the sleeping quarters on the Razor Crest or the Razor II - and groaned. Can’t bring the kid here right away, can I?
There was too much to consider; Bo-Katan’s plans, Din’s responsibilities, the future of an entire race of people and their planet… but each of those things was no more important to him than the last, especially at the thought of Grogu’s wide eyes looking up at him and his weight settled against the crook of Din’s arm. It’s something to think about, Din admitted to himself as he put the device back onto the table and laid back, the arm back beneath his head. Just to think about it.
Like always, it took him long minutes to fall asleep, and when he finally did, his dreams were filled with the sound of Grogu’s quiet coos.
---
But upon waking up the following morning, Din realized that no matter how much he wanted to see Grogu in person again, he had to do what was right for the kid. Even if it means… He dressed slowly, pulling on his armor piece by piece, saving the helmet for last again. Once dressed, he sat back on the edge of the bed and picked up the device, turning it over in his hands. I need to do this. Switching it from recording audio to a video reply, the man set the device down, squaring his shoulders and spoke out loud, commanding it to begin recording.
“Master Skywalker. My quest was to bring Grogu to his kind, and that’s what I did.” He paused, thankful that his face was hidden, along with the trembling of his upper lip. “When you came and took him from Moff Gideon’s light cruiser, I completed that quest. He was … he is safe with you, with the Jedi. You’ve updated me on his progress, and I thank you for that, but …” His shoulders slumped, and even though he had to fight to get the next words out, he managed. “This is The Way. I don’t want to …dank farrik.” Lowering his helmet toward his chest, he finally continued. “I just want what’s best for the kid. That’s all I …” Say it. You have to say it. “You know how to reach me. I’ll be waiting.”
But he hadn’t said what he needed to.
It wasn’t an answer - Din knew that. It wasn’t an outright refusal - he knew that, too. But it was an out for Skywalker, proof that the Mandalorian wasn’t as selfish as he felt, as willing to drop everything and fly to wherever he needed to be to see the kid again. But I am. I just needed to… He didn’t give himself a chance to second guess the words he’d spoken, instead typing in the necessary information and sending the transmission.
Before the device had beeped to confirm, Din was already heading for the door, needing to face the day and deal with whatever was expected of him, keeping his mind from the device … and any possible response. This is the Way.
---
His resolve only lasted until the middle of the night, Din finally returning to his quarters and beginning the ritual of removing the armor from his body. He didn’t even look at the table until it was time to take the helmet off, and he froze at the sight of another blinking light. Skywalker sent a message back. He hesitated then, hand held above the device, and without speaking, Din turned to the shelving on the far wall, his hand digging into the pouch on his belt, fingers curling around the familiar spherical shape there. Did I ruin everything, kid? Is Skywalker going to tell me that the offer isn’t… The metal cool against his palm, Din once again walked the short distance to the bed, keeping the knob held tightly in one hand and grabbing for the comm device with the other. “Only one way to find out.”
The quiet of the room gave him the ability to hear each of the Jedi’s words clearly, the man not stumbling over them a single time.
Mandalorian. If you’re willing to listen before you make your decision, there’s someone here much more convincing than me. It’ll only take a few minutes, but I know you’ll want to hear it. I don’t know you well, but I know what it sounds like when someone says things that they don’t really believe. It doesn’t even need to be a holo message, just … let me call you.
It was simple; Din knew it, and yet he didn’t want to believe that there was still a chance that he’d be reunited with Grogu in the near future. He’d half expected the man’s response to be in agreement; yes, you did what you were supposed to. The kid might miss you, but he really is better here. You’re right. But instead, there’d been a slight note of surprise in the Jedi’s voice, especially as he’d mentioned the other person he wanted Din to talk to. But who could it be? I haven’t … haven’t talked to the kid this whole time. He wouldn’t…
But Din didn’t know what the Jedi had planned, and that worried him more than he wanted to admit. But why? He squeezed the ball again and then set it down next to the beskar of his helmet, staring at the two pieces of metal. Before the Razor Crest had been blown up, he hadn’t known that Grogu’s favorite toy was made of the same metal that he wore for protection. He’d assumed it was durasteel, but when he’d unearthed it from the ashes, right alongside the new spear, he’d made the connection.
He didn’t know if the kid had been drawn to it because he connected beskar with the man himself, but in the months since he’d last seen the child, the thought comforted Din. At least he has the pendant. Din’s eyes closed, remembering the final moments on the light cruiser’s bridge. Alright, pal. It's time to go. Don't be afraid. He’d been trying to remain strong for the kid, but Din had also been speaking to himself - and the coercion hadn’t worked.
He’d been afraid to lose the child - his child, for good. He’d been afraid of what came next for him and Mandalore. He’d been worried about what it meant to go back to his solo existence, even with the addition of people like Fennec and Cara and Boba Fett - even Peli had crossed his mind then. But mostly, he’d focused on the way it felt to see those huge eyes staring at him until the last possible second. I'll see you again. I promise.
For a few seconds - time that stretched out into an eternity, Din had imagined that he could hear the kid speaking back to him. Don’t want to go. But have to. See you again. They were short, broken sentences, similar to those that children used, but Din later realized that he’d imagined them, because it was what he’d wanted to hear. But if I call him back, I might … The man swallowed hard, reaching for the device before he allowed himself to think about it, and pressed the record button without switching the holo on.
“Skywalker. I’ll listen. I don’t …. I don’t know what the time difference is between where I am and where you are, but if you call within the next eight hours, I’ll answer. Otherwise … we’ll need to figure something else out.” He sighed, running a hand over the back of his head. “I’ll … as long as it’s not the kid you want me to talk to, I’ll listen.” He repeated the direct connection procedure for the device and then sent the message, keeping it switched on while he picked up the ball and laid back, head against the pillow.
Din was nervous, but with the message sent, he was calmer than he had been the entire day, and it gave him a chance to think back to the time he’d spent with Bo-Katan and Koska, the women talking excitedly about a small clan that had made contact, and what it meant. He agreed that the more Mandalorians they knew to exist, the better.
He hadn’t heard from all of the members of the Covert, but surprisingly, many of them had survived Gideon’s attack on Nevarro and the breach of their underground sanctuary. Paz was alive, as was the Armorer. Many of the foundlings were accounted for - and that was something that brought Din relief beyond words.
This was true not only as the Mand’alor, but as someone that had lived and learned side by side with them. They’d lost a great deal of beskar in abandoning the tunnels, but Din had it on good authority that the pieces that had been recovered were slowly being removed from Nevarro a few at a time, transported to the Armorer’s new forge location in secret. She wasn’t the only one skilled with the metal, but she was the only one Din trusted, and as angry as that seemed to make Bo-Katan, he refused to budge on who he allowed to touch the precious metal. It’s the right call. I… know where it is, and I know that she can’t… use it against me.
The woman hadn’t given him any outright reason to mistrust her, but her attitude toward him since he’d shown up with the Moff and Darksaber in tow had made him pause. Din’s circle of trust was small, and though she’d proven helpful, she hadn’t quite worked her way into it in the months they’d known each other. It bothered her much more than it bothered him, but he tried not to think about it. Especially when I could be … thinking about the kid.
Din’s thoughts went to Grogu and Skywalker, the child’s reaction to seeing the droid that the man had with him, the way the doors closing behind the two of them had felt like someone was squeezing his chest, while at the same time, there’d be a small kernel of hope buried there. He’d kept it buried but hadn’t let it die, and with each report from the Jedi, the pressure had decreased slightly. He’s doing well, or … he was. He’s learning, he’s with his own …
But Din’s thoughts were interrupted with the insistent beeping of the device, and he shot up in the bed, fingers still closed around the beskar sphere. He hadn’t expected the reply to come so soon, but knowing that the Jedi was on the other end of the line, he was more excited than nervous. Just want to know what … what he has to say. Din took a deep breath, making sure that the video switch was still off and then answered the call, taking another long, slow breath to calm himself. They’re too many parsecs away, there’s nothing to be worried about.
“Hello? Are -” The Jedi replied, and Din continued, wanting to get the conversation going before he had time to overthink it. “I didn’t think you’d call. I wasn’t -” But Skywalker spoke quickly, too, no pretense before reminding him that he had someone for the Mandalorian to talk to. However, at the revelation that that someone was female, Din felt his eyes narrow, head cocking to one side. What? He was determined to begin the conversation in control, and so without hesitation, he focused his eyes on the comm device, slipping into the voice he used with the people he was trying to get information from. “Tell me your name.”
The first time he heard your voice - even though it was through a tiny speaker - Din was surprised by confidence in it, the way you replied back to him immediately. You answered his questions with honesty, at least as far as he could tell, and the longer the conversation went on, the more certain Din was that Skywalker knew him better than he’d thought. The kid… the kid probably… they must talk too. He smiled at the thought, absently scratching the cheek that Grogu had laid his hand on, but when you revealed that the kid snuck into your room at night, the Mandalorian had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from reacting audibly. Dank farrik.
“I thought he had to complete his training before he leaves the Academy, before he can become a Jedi, so why are you -” You didn’t get to answer that, Skywalker interjecting with similar words to the ones from his initial transmission, and Din began thinking. He wanted to agree to seeing the kid, but instead of saying that, he heard another denial leaving his lips, only cut off by your words.
“If he stays here, his attachment to you might change his life, Mandalorian.” It was another simple, straightforward sentence, but hearing it, another joly passed through Din’s body. Skywalker said something about attachment on the light cruiser. So did Ahsoka on Corvus. Din knew that they were attached to each other, that was more about simply caring for the kid, but hearing someone else - someone that had spent just as much time with Grogu as Din had saying the same thing finally got through to him. That, compounded with the admission that Grogo reenacted bounty hunts with you and the others at the Academy often had Din’s lips pressed tightly together, almost to the point of pain. He misses me. He thinks of me.
But what really impacted him was hearing the word aliit come through the speaker, reaching his ears in your voice. She shouldn’t know Mando’a. Hearing that, it… Instead of replying directly to that, Din voiced another denial, head shaking back and forth and eyes squeezing shut. Seeing him would be … But with the rounded sphere still in his hand, Din’s eyes opened, brow furrowed. No, you know what? I want this. Why shouldn’t I?
If he’d thought about it, there were multiple reasons why reconnecting with Grogu was a bad idea, but he could only turn the Jedi - and you - down so many times before it became impossible - or, even worse, the refusals were accepted. There’s no one chasing him right now. There’s no more danger than usual for me. There’s…
Din blinked again at the revelation that the reunion could last months, asking who’d be escorting Grogu back to the Mandalorian, and another surprised huff left his lips as you admitted that it would be you. But that means… “Are you a Jedi?” He asked the question before he could stop himself, listening intently for your answer, and the following explanation.
She’s not a Jedi, but she does care about the kid. I … I hear it. I believe it. That surprised him, but Din didn’t want to second guess you. You’d been persuasive throughout the conversation, even before the admissions you’d made, honest instead of trying to pretend that you were something that you weren’t. Complicated? I wonder what … Instead of continuing that thought, Din’s attention snapped back to you and Skywalker, the details falling into place as the discussion continued.
He’d have a week to get things in order, to contact Cara and Karga, arranging the arrival on Nevarro. He’d need at least a few days to convince Bo-Katan that leaving Mandalore for months was the right call. It is. He was still speaking to you and the Jedi, but Din’s mind was on everything that he needed to do to get ready to leave. I’ll need to start in the morning. The conversation wound down, and as Din reminded you that you’d need to be ready to leave and meet him in a week, you sighed, the sound loud, even through the speaker. “That’s fine, Mandalorian. More than fine.”
You were being short with him, but it didn’t seem to because you wanted to be; you were doing what was best for the situation. She’s leaving her life there to come … here with him. He blinked, telling you that he looked forward to Nevarro, and then the conversation ended, the room going quiet.
His thoughts were on Grogu - whether or not he’d grown out of his robe, if he was speaking yet, if he was more confident with his power - but they were also on the trip itself, and on the fact that once again, he’d be going from being alone to having others with him. And this time, it’s not … short term.
It was longer than he’d ever hoped for, he realized as he lifted to sphere up and over his face, the smooth surface gleaming as the filtered moonlight coming in through the window hit it. I’ll finally get to give this back. He smiled at the thought, and for the first time in the year that he’d been separated from Grogu, Din fell asleep quickly, no dreams of the kid peering over the Jedi’s shoulder keeping him awake.
