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Your first interaction with the infamous Mandalorian lasts less than a minute, and he speaks one word.
You had been a member of the Guild for years, and with the end of the war, there was an influx of clients, ready to pay handsomely for the capture of ex-Imperial officers and other scum.
“Come on, Karga,” you sat in the booth at the cantina in Nevarro, trying to negotiate with the older man. “Don’t hold out on me, you know you owe me more.”
Karga grimaces, but digs through his pocket and adds a few more credits to the measley stack he had laid out in front of you. “Now, are you going to keep strongarming me or can we talk about your next job?” He lays out several pucks in front of you, tapping one in particular. “I think you’ll like this one. Some ex-convict that skipped parole.”
“I’ll take three,” you chose three from the lot and went to stand. Karga stood, shaking your hand when something caught his eye over your shoulder.
“Ah, Mando!”
Curiosity flooded your veins as you turned to see who he was calling. You had heard of him before, through reputation and endless rumors from other hunters. Those who envied him, hated him for his spot as one of the Guild’s best. They spoke of him as a man of few expressions and even fewer words.
He was certainly intimidating. He lumbered over you, clad head to toe in slightly-dented beskar with a blaster holstered at his hip. People seemed to quiet down as he walked past. “Karga.” he greets the other man briefly, and even through his helmet’s modulator, you can make out a clipped tone. Impatient.
He doesn’t spare a greeting for you.
“It’s good to see you again so soon, my friend,” Karga smiles, patting Mando’s pauldron and gesturing for him to take a seat in his booth. “You should have arrived earlier, I would have loved to introduce you two. This is the hunter I was telling you about, Mando. One of my finest, right after you of course.”
The Mandalorian turns to look at you, and you offer him a short smile and an acknowledging nod. He’s obviously not interested in getting to know you, and in your line of work, coworkers don’t always make the best friends. “Stay and have a drink with us,” Karga implores you, calling for some spotchka. “This one’s as antisocial as you are.”
“Not antisocial, Karga, just busy.” You gesture to the tracking fobs in your hands. “I’ll be back in a week, and don’t try to short change me next time.” Karga gives an overly exaggerated disappointed shake of his head, then laughingly bids you adieu. You spare his guest another smile, before turning to go, still able to see him and Karga in the corner of your eye.
The Mandalorian watches as you leave. As you reach the door of the cantina, you wonder if he’s still watching.
+++
Many months passed. You hadn’t seen the Mandalorian since that brief meeting in the cantina, but boy- did Greef Karga love to talk about him. Actually, the entire cantina loved to talk about him, so it was strange that you hadn’t bumped into him prior. Karga was mostly just fawning over him, continually talking about how you and Mando were his finest hunters.
Your latest hunt brought you to Coruscant, on a transport. God, you really had to get a ship. Well, this newest quarry was worth a lot to many people, and depending on who Karga decided to turn him over to, you might just get enough credits to buy a ship.
It hadn’t taken you long to find the quarry, the tracking fob leading you to the Collective Commerce District. Even on the packed streets, you had been able to spot him, pushing past people and making his way through the crowd, shooting wary glances over his shoulder from time to time. As if he could tell people were going to be after him.
It was too risky to apprehend him right here. You were a good shot, but you didn’t want to risk it if he had a blaster. If he managed to get a shot off, odds were that it would hit someone.
So you followed him, keeping your distance and hoping that he might lead you to wherever he had been hiding out. If you got him alone, you were much more confident in your ability to capture him.
But honestly, you should have known it wasn’t going to be that simple.
When you feel the touch of cool leather against your arm, a hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you aside, your first reaction is to grab for your blaster, pushing your assailant up against the wall of the alley they drag you into and pressing your blaster against their jaw. “You?”
The Mandalorian knocks your blaster aside with little effort, spinning you around and pressing you up against the same wall. “What are you doing here, why are you following my quarry?”
You glare at his rude tone. Man, you got why people called him an asshole. “My quarry, you mean,” you hiss through your teeth, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the tracking fob. “Mind telling me what warrants you assaulting me?”
He groans, his head falling back as he lets out an exasperated sigh, and lets go of you. Stepping back, he produces his own fob out of a pocket in his pants. “Karga must have given more fobs out.”
“Should have known,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Whoever this guy is, he’s apparently too important to trust just one person.” You feel a sting in your chest. You were good, but Mando- Mando was legendary. “There goes my plans for a ship.”
“Hold on,” Mando grabs your arm again as you move to leave. “You’re leaving?”
“Well yeah, I’m good at what I do, but whoever this guy is, he’s not worth getting shot by you.” He looks like he had expected you to fight him for the quarry.
“Wait,” he stops you once again. “Look, Karga’s probably handed out more fobs.”
“Yeah?”
“So, if we work together, we have a better chance of getting the quarry. And the credits. We work together, grab the quarry, split the commission.”
That- was a much better plan than what you had come up with. “You- you want to work with me? Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Well, Karga- and practically everyone- tells me you like to work alone. So why pick a partner when your good enough to get the quarry yourself?”
He shrugs. “Karga said you’re one of the best, maybe I just want to see how right he is.”
His response is unexpected, and probably not the entire truth, and elicits a soft laugh from you as you shake your head. “You know, now I get why people say you’re an asshole.”
“You’re not exactly little miss sunshine, princess. So, we have a deal?”
You bite your lip, eyes flickering from his helmet to his extended hand. “Alright,” you nod, shaking his hand. “Alright, we have a deal. You better not try to kill me, or I’m gonna be fucking pissed.”
He snorts, and it catches you off guard. You didn’t even know he could smile. “You’d be dead, but you don’t have to worry about that. Now come on, let’s go make a plan.”
The two of you make your way back into the marketplace, and you realize that the attention Mando attracted on Nevarro translates perfectly over to Coruscant, where people stare warily at him as he passes. “So much for not attracting attention,” you grumble, glaring at a Cerean who lets his eyes drag very slowly from you to Mando. He blushes red and looks away quickly.
“Let them stare,” Mando shrugs, walking so fast that you have to double your stride to keep up with him. His hand settles on your lower back for less than a moment to guide you through an especially packed part of the crowd, and you hate how your stomach erupts into buterflies at the feeling. “I found the place where he’s hiding out, but it’s protected.”
“Troopers?” You ask. For such a high bounty, it would make sense if he was affiliated with the Empire.
Mando shakes his head. “Droids. Reprogrammed IG-88′s, probably meant to kill anyone who tries to get near him.” You notice the slight change in his voice, the smallest drop of venom, when he mentions the droids.
You don’t ask about it. He doesn’t seem like one for questions. “So what’s our plan?”
“How good are you with a rifle?”
“Probably better than you,” you jest, and he scoffs.
“Yeah, well let’s see about that. There are two droids guarding the outside of the safe house. They have access cards that open the door. We take them out first.”
“And if more come?”
“I’m gonna have to trust you to cover me,” he sighs, and you can tell that trusting you with his life is not something he’d like to do. “If you’re as good a shot as you say you are. We can make our way through the safe house to find the quarry, and between the two of us, we should be able to handle any droids that try to attack.”
“And we leave the way we came?”
“Whatever way gets us out the fastest,” he shrugs. “I can provide you passage back to Nevarro on my ship.”
“Beats catching a ride on a food transport,” you shrug jokingly. “So when do we do it?”
“Streets should be empty enough by nightfall. There’s a nearby rooftop that should provide us a good enough view.”
“Lead the way, then.”
***
You take a deep breath as you reach the top of the ladder, stepping onto the small rooftop. “Huh,” you sigh, staring out at the Coruscant skyline. Looks different than last time.
Mando’s already stretched out by the edge of the rooftop, producing a small scope from his pocket and peering through it at the safehouse. You settle next to him and he offers the scope to you. Just as he had said, two IG-88 droids, armed with blasters. “Should be easy enough to take them out from this range,” you murmur.
“No,” Mando shakes his head. “We don’t want to risk giving more droids time to come out by the time it takes from us to get from here to there-”
“-or risk giving the quarry time to get away, got it.”
He nods, pleased that you can keep up. “We keep watch here until nightfall, I can take first watch. Then we take them by surprise. You should get some rest.”
“Is this your way of telling me I look tired, Mando?” You joke, scooting away from the edge of the rooftop and staying low, taking your jacket off and rolling it up to use as a pillow.
“Yes,” he says bluntly, turning back to the scope.
So sarcasm might just be lost on Mandalorians.
***
You wake up much later, but the Coruscant sun has just reached the horizon, scattering an array of purples, pinks, and oranges over the sky. You groan, sitting up and stretching before scooting back to the edge of the rooftop. “You should have woken me up.”
“You looked tired,” he says simply, and for a second there, you almost swear that he’s smirking under that fucking helmet. But that would imply that he had a sense of humor, something you’re not too prone to believing.
“Any movement?”
“No, and before you ask, I already checked for other entrances. This is the only way out.”
“How’d you know I was going to ask?” You arch an eyebrow at him, equal parts amused and miffed.
“Because it’s the sort of question I would ask,” he shrugs. “You ready for this?”
“Totally,” you sigh, grabbing your blaster rifle and giving it one last once over. “So have you just been laying there? Isn’t it uncomfortable?”
He just gives you another shrug. You sigh, settling back in your previous position. You’ve already gotten more words out of him than most people have in a year, so you’ll be lenient with his silence.
Soon the mesmerizing arrays of pinks, oranges, and yellows fade away, and the Coruscant sky becomes a single shade of dark purple, the only light being provided by the stars and moon. You’ve taken Mando’s position on the edge of the rooftop, and as darkness overtakes the city, you scoot back to where he’s leaning against a spare crate on the roof. You honestly can’t tell if he’s sleeping or just sitting, so you nudge his pauldron lightly. “Hey, Mando,” you whisper, wondering what to do when he moves abruptly, making you jump. “Maker, were you awake?”
“Yup,” he says, offering no elaboration as he heads for the ladder that leads to the street. Definitely an enigma, that one. You just sigh, following him. As you approach the safe house, the IG-88 bots immediately turn towards you, blasters ready.
“Unidentified persons, identify yourselves immediately-”
They both crumple to the ground as two blasts from your rifle come into contact with their heads. Mando grabs one of their access cards and opens the door. “The commotion’s going to bring more out, so we should work fast,” he whispers, and you nod. You move through the safe house side by side, watching each others backs. Your rifle is raised, but as you move through the house, you’re put slightly off edge as you don’t see any droids.
Until you hear a slight whirring sound and a flash of red, right behind you, on your left. Whirling around, you fire a clean shot that strikes the droid in its head, but there’s another in its place, quickly. Mando makes even quicker work of him. “C’mon,” you urge, and you begin jogging through the house.
More and more droids descend upon the two of you, but between your rifle and Mando’s blaster, none of them even come close to you. You’re almost done sweeping the house when a droid steps out from behind a wall unexpectedly. You don’t see him, but Mando does, and immediately pushes you out of the way, firing a shot that sends the droid to the ground. But the droid’s already fired, and his blaster soars through the empty space where you had just been. You almost tumble to the ground, but Mando catches you, a secure arm around your waist pulling you back to your feet. “Are you okay?”
“Y-Yeah,” you nod, and he immediately drops his hand. “This is the last room.” Mando jimmies the doorknob, but the door doesn’t open. “Maybe we need the access-” He pushes you back gently, kicking the door open. “-Nevermind, then.”
The quarry is cowering in a corner of the room, holding a blaster of its own, but his hand is shaking so much that you doubt he could even hit the wall behind you and Mando. “P-please, don’t kill me! I’ll give you whatever you want! Credits, b-beskar, anything!”
Mando crosses the room in two quick strides, knocking the man’s blaster out of his hand and holding his own right under his jaw, just like you had done to him. “We’re not here to kill you. But whoever we turn you over to might just have that in mind.” He slaps a pair of binders on the quarry, and turns to look at you. A momentary silence as the two of you catch your breaths, reeling in the aftermath of success.
“So what do you think?” You grin, setting your rifle down. “Karga’s right?”
“Yeah,” he sighs, shaking his head lightly, almost as if out of amusement. “I’d say he was pretty accurate.”
***
It’s a quiet ride to Nevarro.
The quarry was blubbering for almost half of the way there, scared of what was going to happen to him, until Mando had let out a grumbling curse of “dank ferrik” and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him to the hold of his ship and freezing him in carbonite. You sat quietly in your seat in the cockpit, watching him from the corner of your eyes. “You okay?” you ask as he returns, punching some buttons and switches on the Crest’s dashboard with a little too much aggressiveness as he plops back down into his seat.
You almost cower back as he turns to look at you, but you hold your gaze. “What do you mean?”
“You’ve been acting moody. Ever since that guy offered you beskar, you kinda went off on him.”
He’s silent, staring at you for only a moment longer before looking back at the starry expanse before you. You have a feeling he’s clenching his jaw under that helmet. Punching a few more buttons on the navcomp, he launches the ship into hyperspace.
You’re resigned with not getting an answer to your question, but he takes you by surprise by sighing. “Beskar belongs to Mandalorians. It’s our armor, our weapons. During the Great Purge, after the Empire killed Mandalorians, they took a lot of beskar. So to hear that sack of shit trying to bribe me with it, think he could get me to break the code…”
He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, and you nod silently, understanding. That guy was associated somehow to the Empire, and it was an insult to Mando, to his code, to try to bribe him. “What about you?”
“What about me?” The question takes you off guard. He had sounded almost hesitant to answer your question, so you hadn’t expected him to ask his own.
“You looked…nostalgic, when we were up on that rooftop. And when we were pulling out of the atmosphere, you were staring at the planet. Are you from Coruscant?”
“No,” you shook your head lightly, staring at your lap and rubbing the ring on your middle finger. “I’m from Alderaan.”
“Oh.” The implications of your words rings throughout the cockpit. “I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s okay. My parents left Alderaan with me when I was just a teenager, took me to Coruscant. I always wanted to go back, but then the Empire…” you trail off, remembering the day you had received news about the fate of Alderaan. “I haven’t been back to Coruscant for years, not since my parents died.”
“I- I’m sorry for your loss.” It’s almost laughable that you don’t know which loss he’s talking about. Your home planet, your parents, your sense of belonging.
“It’s alright, Mando,” you smile softly, shrugging. “It’s not like you knew, we’re not- friends, or anything.”
He’s silent for another second, before looking back forward. “Yeah,” he nods slightly, and silence overtakes the cockpit again. He doesn’t look back at you again, and you stare at your hands, in your lap.
It’s a quiet ride to Nevarro.
***
Karga laughs, clapping you both on the shoulder as you walk into the cantina together, earning envious stares. You’re not used to the attention, but Mando seems impervious to it. “Who would’ve thought? My two best hunters, working together. I’ll say, you make quite a team.”
Not a team, you think, as Mando takes his share of the credits and leaves the cantina without another word. Just two strangers on similar path.
+++
You don’t see him again for almost a year. To be honest, you hadn’t expected to see him again at all. Your past interactions didn’t indicate that he would be a significant part of your life, or you of his. But still, sometimes when you were in the cantina, talking with Karga, you found your eyes flitting around, looking for that familiar beskar helmet. Sometimes you found your head turning around, as if of its own accord, your ears certain that they had heard that familiar deep timbre of his voice.
It was never him.
You had gotten a ship. A small little thing, but it flew just fine and you had enough room to sleep and store everything you needed, so you were just fine. It wasn’t a home, but in your life you had come to be fine with the idea that maybe having a home just wasn’t for you. Maybe.
A quarry had taken you to Takodana, the planet being one of the more beautiful places of the small parts of the galaxy that you had visited. Walking through the forests, you were so tempted to just drop your blaster and take a dip into the clear rivers, let the water swallow you whole and block you from the rest of the world.
But you didn’t have that luxury, especially on a time crunch. You had to find your next quarry before meeting with Karga, and he was expecting you in a few days. The hunt had gone fine, and you had the quarry in carbonite. With the extra time on your hands, you were contemplating sleeping or taking a walk when you heard a noise. Something moving heavily against metal.
Your hand went straight to your blaster. Someone- something- was in your ship. Peering down the hatch of the cockpit, you couldn’t see anything, but you could hear soft groans. You dropped down the ladder slowly, keeping your blaster ready the entire time as you rounded a corner, ready to shoot.
You almost dropped it at the sight presented to you.
Mando. His armor was slightly more dented than it had been last time, though a year of bounty hunting must do that to beskar, no matter how strong the metal is. He turns to look at you, silently, and your initial reaction should be to ask him what the fuck he’s doing in your ship.
But then you see his hand clutching his side. The blood dripping onto the floor. “S-sorry,” he apologizes, biting back a groan as you immediately holster your blaster. “I don’t- don’t think I can make it back to my ship, and you’re the only person on this- fuck, planet that I can trust-” You rush to his side as his legs almost give out under him, helping him lean his weight against you.
“It’s okay,” you say, trying your best to get him over to your cot without hurting him any more. It takes some maneuvering and it’s a bit slow, but you help him lie down. You stare down at the blood on your hands. His blood.
Stop fucking panicking.
“I need you to take your armor off, so I can see how bad it is.” He tenses up immediately, and you backtrack, realizing how it sounds. “No, not your helmet, of course, but I need to be able to get to the wound.”
He nods and moves to undo his breastplate, but a heavy groan leaves his lips. He’s in a lot of pain. “Lay down, lay down,” you urge him, forcing him back down gently and removing it yourself. Grabbing some scissors, you cut his shirt away around the wound. It’s thankfully not too deep, but still enough to scare you. “God, Mando, what did this?”
“Vibroblade,” he groans, still obviously in a lot of pain. You take to cleaning the wound, pausing whenever his breath hitches or he gives any signs of being in pain. Talk, talk, you need to do something to keep his mind off of this.
“How- how did you know this was my ship? That I was on Takodana?”
“I saw you, a couple months back,” he exhales forcefully through his nose, obviously thankful for the distraction. “Leaving the cantina, with Karga. Was gonna- gonna say hi, but you left pretty quick. Saw- saw your ship- fuck- saw your ship leaving.”
“And it didn’t strike you that this could have been someone else’s ship? I have a pretty common model, Mando,” you smile.
He chuckles. “Wasn’t thinking, I guess.”
“What’s new?” You smile teasingly. “The bleeding’s stopped, but I’m going to have to cauterize this. Then we can put bacta on it, and you’ll be good as new in the morning.” You grab the cauterizer, and you’re about to start when you realize how much he’s tensed up. As if by reflex, an instant reaction, you grab his hand. “Squeeze when it gets to be too much, okay? And- I’ll try to keep talking, to distract you from it.”
He nods, so slightly you think you’ve imagined it, but then he takes your hand in his. “Alright,” you swallow, and turn the cauterizer on. As you begin, his hand squeezes your own gently, but so far it’s not too much for him. “Maker, I don’t fucking know what to say.”
“Am I- that hard to talk to?” He squeezes your hand tight and you stop instantly.
“Well, I haven’t seen you in almost a year and now you’re bleeding out on my ship Mando,” you laugh disbelievingly. “This is a pretty weird friendship we’ve got.”
“Funny, I thought we weren’t friends,” he laughs, and the reminder of your words from the last time you saw him instantly sober you up. “Hey,” he squeezes your hand as you start the cauterizer again. “Tell me the story about this,” one gloved finger rubs the ring that rests on your middle finger.
You nod, sighing and starting the cauterizer up again. “It was my mother’s ring. My dad gave it to her, when they got married, on Alderaan. They were both pretty poor, and he couldn’t afford to buy her anything too pretty, but she loved the beach more than anything. He used to take her to any planets that had oceans- any that weren’t destroyed by the Empire, whenever they had the money.”
You try not to choke up at the memory, realizing that Mando hasn’t squeezed your hand. But he’s listening intently, still rubbing the ring. “On one of their trips, she said she wished she could have the beach with her forever. So he took a piece of sea glass with him, and took it home. My uncle was a blacksmith, so he made the ring, and made the sea glass look like a diamond, and he gave it to mom, and they got married. I was born a year later, and she always told me that story.”
“It stuck with you.” Not a question, an observation.
“Yeah,” you nod. “I guess- it just showed me that love doesn’t always have to be flashy gifts and all that. When someone loves you, they know you. And- sometimes love can be shown, not told, if you get what I mean.”
Mando nods, and you sigh as you finish up the cauterizing. Reaching for the bacta, you spread a generous amount on the wound. You don’t take your hand from him, and he doesnt’ drop it. Probably too delirious to realize he’s still holding it. He lets out a soft groan of relief as you apply the bacta. “You should get some rest,” you cough. “You’ll feel better in the morning.”
“Can…” He grabs onto your hand as you move to stand, and you can hear thick exhaustion in his voice. “Can you stay?” You nod, falling back into your place next to the bed. “Thank you,” he says, fighting off a yawn.
“Anytime, Mando. Just try not to make this a regular occurence.” This time, you actually get a soft laugh out of him. So maybe your sense of humor is rubbing off on him.
“Cyar’ika…” The word rolls off his tongue as his head tilts to the side, his breaths evening out as exhaustion finally overtakes him. This time, you’re certain he’s asleep. Not taking your hand from his, you rest your cheek on the mattress, watching him.
You think back to what he said when he first saw you. That you were the only person he could trust. It filled you with a strange sense of pride, but it was also strange to be the only person he trusted, when you were barely acquaintances.
Then again, there must not be many people he trusts in general.
As sleep comes and your eyes droop closed, you wonder what cyar’ika means.
***
Din Djarin, even with a healing vibroblade wound and barely any sleep, wakes up at the crack of dawn. He groans, feeling a dull ache in his side as he blinks sleep away rapidly. When he’s fully awake, he realizes a couple things that are very wrong.
One, he’s not wearing his armor. Thankfully, the helmet is still on. But two, this isn’t the Razor Crest. He sits up quickly, but falls back as he feels that ache in his side come back. Looking down, he sees the faint scar on his gut, and the memories of last night come flooding back.
Getting slashed with the vibroblade. Finding your ship, you healing him and the story about your mother’s ring. Calling you cyar’ika…
He really hopes that you don’t know Mando’a.
Gathering his bearings, he looks down and realizes that your hand is still in his own. You’re asleep next to the bed, your head resting on the mattress and hair strewn wildly around your face, lips parted barely as you’re snoring softly.
His heart squeezes. Not a bad way to wake up- Stop it, Djarin.
He groans and sits up again, and apparently his noises are enough to wake you up, as your eyes flutter open, and you smile softly at him, rubbing your eyes. “Hey,” you greet him, and your voice is so soft that it makes that ache in his chest grow. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” he coughs, taking his hand from yours and pretending to busy himself with getting his armor back on. “Thank you.” He hates taking his hand from yours, he wants to hold it again, never let go, take his gloves off and feel your skin against his own.
He hates himself for it.
You frown softly at his change in attitude, coughing and standing up, cleaning up the medical supplies strewn around the ship. “No problem. Do you want to stay for breakfast? I can check on your scar before you head back to your ship.”
“No.” It comes off colder than he intentioned, and you flinch a bit. “I’m sorry, I mean that-”
“It’s okay,” you smile, pushing away any hurt that you feel from his cold attitude. Stupid, stupid, stupid girl, what did you think was going to happen? He was injured and you helped him out, that doesn’t change shit. “You’re busy, Mando, I get it.” He looks like he wants to say something else, but you just yawn, turning away. “I have some repairs I was working on in the cockpit, if you need anything before you leave, just call for me.”
He watches, regret gnawing at his bones as you climb the cockpit, disappearing from sight.
You sit idly in the cockpit, fiddling with the navcomp, listening intently to the noises he makes moving around in the hull of your ship. Wondering, waiting for him to climb up the ladder.
Your hopes-which you’re unsure why you have in the first place- vanish when you hear the soft hiss of the hatch opening, and the sound of boots hitting grass before it closes again.
+++
If you felt like your interaction on Coruscant lessened the odds of ever seeing Mando again, you had a feeling like the events that transpired on Takodana eliminated them completely. Of course, you weren’t being entirely realistic: at one point or another, you were bound to run into the bounty hunter again, the two of you were bound by the same occupation.
But if he spotted you at the cantina, or on a planet, or even just anywhere, he never said hi, and you didn’t catch sight of him. This went on for months, and you were once again confused by your disappointment at his disappearance.
Had you really caught feelings for him? An enigmatic man whose moods changed quicker than you could keep up with and who you barely ever saw? Maker, you had never even seen his face, not that you would ever ask. You respected his Creed, respected him.
But as you thought about it, thought about the way your heart fluttered when he admitted his admiration of your skills on Coruscant, and when he showed up out of nowhere on Takodana, and how you trusted him enough to tell him the story of your parents…the answer was probably yes.
But it didn’t matter. You- apart from your jobs, you didn’t have anything in common. Dank ferrik, the only reason the two of you ran into each other was because of your job. And how he had brushed you off that morning on Takodana only assured you that any feelings you had- now that you admitted that feelings did exist- were not returned on his half.
Many, many months passed between then and your last meeting with the Mandalorian. You still thought about him often, and getting him off your mind was definitely going to be impossible when Karga continued to sing his praises, lament the fact that you two hadn’t teamed up again after your Coruscant venture.
“More bone broth, honey?” You snapped out of your thoughts, realizing you had drifted off. You were in a cantina on Kijimi, trying to warm yourself up with broth and the roaring fire nearby. Of course you just had to show up in the middle of a snowfall. You hated the cold in general, so missions on Kijimi were always a pain.
But hey, this quarry was worth a lot. And after some soup and rest, you’d be ready. “Yes, please,” you nodded politely at the waitress, who smiles and takes your bowl back into the kitchen. You drift off back into your thoughts again, thinking about the way Mando held your hand, rubbing your ring.
You think about that word he called you. Cyar’ika. Probably something that just slipped out, he was delirious from pain, anyway.
“Hey,” you almost don’t register the voice, but after a moment, you recognize it, the modulated sound, and the shape of the body in your peripheral vision. Turning around, you see him, sure enough. The fire reflects in the visor of his helmet, casting an orange glow over his armor.
“Hey,” it comes off almost breathless, as if the sight of him has snatched every molecule of oxygen from your lungs.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” He gestures to the seat next to you and you shake your head.
“We wouldn’t be after the same quarry again this time, would we?” You haven’t seen him in months and you’re not even sure where the two of you stand, but the joke just rolls off of your tongue naturally. Poking fun at him, it seems normal.
He snorts, shaking his head. “No, I’m just passing through, my ship needs to refuel.”
“Oh.” You hide the disappointment that he’s not staying longer, nodding understandingly. “Where are you heading off to?”
“N-”
“Here’s your broth, honey,” the waitress comes back, her smile wiping off her face slowly as she sees Mando seated next to you. “Oh, uh…anything for your friend here?”
You open your mouth, but Mando beats you to it. “No, thank you.” She looks surprised that he even answered her, but nods and disappears. “I’m heading back to Nevarro,” Mando finishes when the door to the kitchen shuts behind her. “I have a meeting with Karga tomorrow.” You nod, taking a sip from your broth, and it falls quiet again before he coughs. “I wanted to apologize. I never really thanked you for what you did for me, on Takodana.”
“Mando, it’s alright,” you shrug. “You were busy, and that stupid scar probably wasn’t making your job any easier-”
“-Still. I didn’t mean to be rude to you. I didn’t know how to…you terrify me.”
Just the thought of it makes you laugh, it sounds so ridiculous. “I- I scare you? Mando, you make people shit their pants just by walking past them, and I scare you?”
He laughs, as if he understands how baffling it sounds. “I never know what to say around you.”
“How about the truth?” You smile, nudging him with your elbow. “Except for when I look tired, you can lie to me then.”
He lets out an amused huff, shaking his head as you continue sipping your soup. Maker, he missed you. “I was really out of it that night that I found you, I was worried that I might have said or done something to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Mando, apart from the pain in my neck from sleeping on the floor, I wasn’t uncomfortable.” You think back to the events of that night, biting your lip as you remember that question that was on your mind. “You um, you called me something, I think it was in Mando’a. cya- cyar’ika? Did I say that right?”
Mando coughs, nodding. His heart is beating quickly in his chest. “Yeah, um- you pronounced it right.”
“What does it mean?” That little feeling of hope returns for barely a moment as Mando gulps.
“It’s just a nickname,” he lies through his teeth. “Something we call our friends.”
“Oh,” you nod, hating yourself for feeling disappointed. It made sense, you had already settled in your mind that Mando didn’t have feelings for you, so of course cyar’ika was a term used for friends. Smiling, you remember something he said to you. “Funny, I thought we weren’t friends.”
He sighs, equal parts exasperated and amused. “I guess we have a habit of repeating each others words.”
“Must be because we’re so much alike,” you wink.
He laughs, gulping as he tries to form the right words in his head. The words he can use to ask you to stay longer, have another bowl of soup, talk to him until morning, when he has to leave. But as he opens his mouth, your tracking fob begins to beep. “Fuck” you cuss, pulling it from your pocket and taking a glance around the cantina.
“Is your quarry here?” He asks, looking around even though he doesn’t even know what the guy looks like.
“Not here, but nearby,” you sigh, finishing up your soup and tossing credits onto the counter. “I’ve got to go, but it was nice seeing you again, Mando.”
“You too,” he nods, turning back to the counter and sighing. Time for another few months of not seeing you again-
“Mando.” He turns around, spotting you standing by the door, one arm on the doorknob and the other holding your jacket as you put it on. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” You smile, cocking your head to the side.
“Okay,” he offers, not sure he can get more words out before choking on them. And with one last smile and a wave, you’re gone again, the only proof that you had ever been there being an empty bowl of soup and credits on the counter.
+++
There’s a change in your…relationship after that. Mando sends you a transmission when he reaches Nevarro, telling you he hopes your hunt went okay, and that he’ll probably still be in Nevarro when you get back, if you wanted to get some spotchka.
You had to very briefly scream into your pillow before sending him a transmission back. Since then, you both had met up between hunts, quick talks over spotchka or broth, before you went your separate ways again. Before, you both had just passed by each other without any hesitation when your paths crossed, but now, some change in the universe caused the both of you to be stuck for a bit before continuing on your separate ways.
You received a transmission from him one day, saying he was going to Arvala-7. Some bounty. The part that struck you was that the client was ex-Empire. But the war was over, money was tight, and a quarry was a quarry, no matter who was filling your pockets.
You ran into him afterwards, when news of his victory had spread and everyone had had time to spew venomous words about him. You had sat in your booth with Karga, lips turned upwards in amusement as a hunter at another table swore that Mando had lied about the quarry and stolen the beskar. “Well, I’ve got to go, Karga,” you stood up and turned to leave, immediately running into someone. Something hard. “Ow- Mando.”
Wow, he looked different. Good different. Gone was his tarnished rust red armor, replaced by shiny new beskar, freshly made. The client’s payment had gone to good use. “Hey,” he greets you as if he’s happy to see you, but by his tone you can tell that something’s weighing on his mind.
“Congratulations,” you smile at him, feeling a strange sense of pride. He feels something bitter root in his gut, but casts it aside, remembering that you don’t know the details of the mission. “It looks good on you.”
“Thank you.”
Maybe out of your happiness at seeing him and your happiness for him, you lean up, pressing a quick kiss on the cheek of his helmet. “Watch your back,” you whisper, laughing as you stay on your tip toes and whisper it into his ear. “Basically everyone here wants to rip that armor right off of you.”
Mando chuckles as you step back. “But not you?”
“Not me,” you agree. “You look too nice in it.” Clearing your throat, you take a deep breath, smiling at him. “Want to grab some spotchka tonight?”
“Not tonight, cyare,” he shakes his head. “There’s- something I need to do. But I’ll meet you here tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow works,” you nod, jumping when you hear Karga call Mando with an overly jovial tone. Obvious pride for being associated with the hunter that succeeded in taking down such a large quarry. “I’ll see you?”
“I’ll see you,” he nods, and you go to leave. But when you reach the door, you look back at him, worry settling in the pit of your gut. You could be wrong, everything could be fine, but something felt wrong.
***
Your heart dropped as you looked down at the tracking fob in your hand. Mando, what the hell did you do? you think, looking around the cantina at the other hunters, all with fobs similar to your own, hungry looks on their faces. Officially, they finally had a chance to take him down.
You weren’t about to let that happen.
You reached the shootout just as the Mandalorians arrived, catching a glimpse of Mando and the- the target. Maker, it was only a child. Suddenly, Mando’s odd behavior, his lack of happiness at his success, at your happiness over his success, it all made sense.
You were risking everything, you realized, but Mando was worth it. Sticking to the shadows, you aimed at one of the hunters Mando had yet to notice, taking them down before they could hurt him. The Mandalorians were getting more work done than you, though. There had to be something else-
Karga. You saw him slinking off, confused about why he would be leaving the action- The Razor Crest, fuck. He was going to get Mando there. Karga slunk off, and the other Mandalorians covered Mando as he left.
You followed them, trying to make your way through the fighting. You saw one of the Mandalorians getting attacked by a hunter and you fired without thinking, taking the hunter down.
The Mandalorian looked confused, after all, you bore the insignia of the Guild on your shirt. But he nodded at you, and you nodded back, making your way to the Razor Crest. To Mando.
The hatch is open, and you can hear Karga talking. Slowly, you approach the ship, blaster in your hand. None of them notice you, but Karga has a blaster aimed at Mando. At the kid.
Your heart is beating in your throat. Maker, you were risking your livelihood, your freedom, your dedication to the Guild. This was insane. You- you loved Mando, that was a truth. But could you give up everything-
It only took a moment to learn that the answer was yes. When Karga raised his blaster, just a second too fast, and you fired without hesitation.
Karga groaned, stumbling back and falling out of the hatch of the Crest. For what felt like forever, you and Mando stood there, breathing heavy breaths. Your blaster was still raised, eyes wide, coming to terms with what you had done. “You need to leave,” you holster your blaster quickly, jumping out of the Crest and going to Karga. Pressing two fingers to his neck, you sigh in relief when you find a pulse.
“Cyar’ika-”
“Mando, I’m not fucking around, you need to leave. More of the Guild will be coming. I can convince Karga that you shot him when he wakes up-”
“Come with me.” He plants his hands firmly on your shoulders, turning you away from Karga and lifting you to your feet to look at him.
“W-what?” Definitely not the response you had expected.
“Come with me, we can leave together.”
“Mando, I can’t, the Guild and-”
“Cyar’ika doesn’t mean ‘friend’,” he swallows thickly, taking a deep breath. But he’s spent too long lying to you. “It mean darling. Sweetheart.”
You blink, your mind going at hyperspeed to try to process this information. You weren’t Mando’s acquaintance. You weren’t a friend.
Darling. Sweetheart.
“Mando, I- I care about you. As more than a friend. In that way,” you nod, and he visibly relaxes, drawing you closer. “But I don’t know if I can come with you.”
“Cyar’ika…We keep meeting and you keep slipping away from me. Maybe- Maybe there’s a reason we keep meeting.” And stars, he’s never been one to believe in fate, but he’d gladly believe in the universe if it was pushing the two of you together.
“And that is?”
“That we’re better off when we’re together.”
You understand what he’s trying to say. The implication of his words, how he uses them as a substitute for those three little words that a Mandalorian, that this one in particular, hasn’t any familiarity with saying.
“Okay,” you nod, closing the space between the two of you by leaning in, pressing your forehead against his. “Yes, I’ll come with you, Mando. Maker knows we’ve spent too much time just passing by each other.”
One of Mando’s hands leaves your hip, cupping your face gently and tracing his thumb over your cheek. It’s such a tender gesture, one you’ve never felt from him that it catches you off guard, but you practically just melt into him. Even if it’s just a glove against your skin, you never want him to stop touching you like this.
For so long, you and Mando had been like two planets of a star system, following your own orbits around a common sun, your commitment to the Guild. Every so often, when the timing was just right, your orbits lined up just right and brought you into contact with each other, but only momentarily, a brief alignment before you continued on your merry ways. But now? It felt like there was a change in your gravitational force, your orbits lining up in such a way that he completely eclipsed the sun, pulling you off course.
“Din.”
“What?” The moment of silence is destroyed when he speaks, but it’s a singular word and for a second you think that you’ve just imagined him saying it.
“Din. Din Djarin, that’s- that’s my name. It’s what I want you to call me.”
“Din.” Your smile grows, and you nod. It’s so- him. It’s fitting. “We should probably go, before the rest of the Guild catches up.”
“Come on,” Pressing his lips to your forehead, he pulls away, leading you onto the Crest. It feels strange, you’ve been on the Crest before, but this time was different.
It felt like coming home.
He closed the hatch quickly behind you, leading you into the cockpit, where the target- the child, was sitting. “How did that womp rat get into the cockpit?” Din grumbles, but you only laugh, taking a seat and pulling the kid onto your lap as Din settled into the pilot’s seat, starting up the Crest with ease. “Are you going to miss your ship?” He asks over his shoulder as you pull out of the atmosphere quickly.
“No,” you shake your head, with full conviction. “It was nice, but it wasn’t home.”
“And this is? The Crest?” He turns to look at you, and you lean forward in your seat, taking your hand in his and rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.
“Yeah,” you nod, smiling softly. “With you, it is.”
You had never expected to find a home. Not when you left Alderaan, or Coruscant, or when you joined the Guild. But now, sitting in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, Din’s hand in your own and your heart beating a mile a minute as you started this new journey, you knew that this was the only one you ever wanted.