Chapter 40

-gift-

Omera had just come from checking on one of the older women when the Armorer found her. She had been with them for almost a month and Omera hadn't had much cause to speak to her. She had built a forge in one of the better ventilated side caverns and Winta helped her occasionally but Omera couldn't stand the heat and fumes. If she was being honest, on the few times she had interacted with the mysterious woman, she had found her rather intimidating.

Din was off world at the moment visiting a smaller covert Bo-Katan had found with Paz and Asta, so if the Armorer was approaching her, she must actually want to speak to her. At first she thought maybe Winta had done something but her daughter wasn't anywhere to be seen. Then she noticed the parcel she carried. Curious, she let out a rushed breath and, hoping she didn't come off as flustered as she felt, smiled.

"Hello, Armorer."

As she always did, she inclined her helmet once before speaking. "Omera, I would like to speak with you a moment if you are not otherwise occupied."

Hiding her surprise, Omera nodded and looked at her expectantly.

"Perhaps we could speak in your apartment. I have something for you."

"Oh." The Armorer held up the parcel in her hands and Omera suddenly felt a bit wrong footed. "Of course. Certainly…" She held her smile in place as she gestured in the direction of their door. They walked together in what she felt was awkward silence through the section of apartments before finally reaching theirs. Letting them in, Omera sat on the low sofa and after a moment's hesitation, the Armorer sat beside her.

"You are intimidated by me, you should not be."

Sighing, Omera met what she assumed was her gaze. "You are a bit intimidating, even to Din I think." A small smile at a memory lightened her tense face. "You talk about as much as he did when I first met him only without the incongruous charm and small adorable child. And…" The smile dropped and she suddenly felt a bit sad. She looked away. "And you know and understand the parts of his past he doesn't like to share with me."

"Hmm." Omera's eyes flicked back to her guest. She too seemed to be looking off at nothing, though with the helmet she couldn't know for sure. "I have known Din Djarin as long as he has been a part of our tribe. He was as quiet a child as he is now as a man. More than other foundlings, he held himself apart from the rest of the tribe, with few exceptions." She sighed and to Omera, it sounded sad. "After his buir was killed he traveled down a dark path for a time… dark even for a Mandalorian. I am not surprised he doesn't want you to know who he was then. It pleases me to see the man that he has become as a father, as your husband."

Nodding, the Armorer looked back at Omera. "I have made something for you." Vaguely confused at the rapid change in subject and still trying to process what she thought may have been a compliment, she looked down at the leather-wrapped parcel in the other woman's lap. "You may not have taken vows to the Resol'nare... yet, but you are the riduur of the Mand'alor. As such you hold certain station. When you go to Chandrila you will stand beside him as a representative for our people to the rest of the galaxy."

Unfolding the leather, she revealed a four piece, polished beskar breastplate. It was similar to Din's, only much shorter and clearly made for a woman: one curved slender section, two large, convex plates that would cover her chest, and the oblong crystal shaped piece that every Mandalorian breastplate had in the center. On the left section that would protect her heart, was a mud horn, the signet of their clan. Omera gasped softly at the sight and reached out to run her finger over the animal.

"It is fitting that you should wear this."

Picking up the two larger pieces, she examined them closely. "These are beautiful, but can I really wear this?"

The Armorer nodded. "Yes. Perhaps one day I will form you a full cuirass, but for now…"

Touched and not sure what else to say, Omera smiled at the Armorer. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Omera."

After a visit with Vismay to shorten a flak vest, two things occurred to Omera. First, she wanted to ask Din what he thought about her swearing vows to the Resol'nare, like he had, like the rest of their people. She had thought about it before, but the obvious suggestion in the Armorer's words had made her consider it more seriously. Would he want her to do it? It didn't make sense for her not to. Their children would one day: why shouldn't she?

Secondly, she had also been right about Chandrila. They would be representing their people to the Galactic Senate. Omera remembered what it had been like at the social and political gatherings her diplomat father had taken her too. No matter the regime, politicians were the same. As much as she would have preferred to wear her faded, stretched pants and a comfortable top as she had for the last month, that wouldn't be good enough for the New Republic halls of power and influence.

Frustrated to have to worry about her outfit of all things, she decided to rope Cara into taking a short trip with her as soon as Din got back. They could have something simple made that she could wear with her new breastplate. As practical as it was, there was only so much that could be done with duraweave.

DO

Din was only a little bitter that Bo-Katan seemed to be so much better than him at finding other Mandalorians. She had mentioned weeks ago that she had connections he did not. Personally he thought she might just be jetting around the galaxy, tagging a standard message about a new Mand'alor in Mando'a in seedy places. No one but a Mandalorian would be able to read it after all. Regardless, whenever she found anyone—individuals or small groups—she sent them to Batuu.

In the last month, another fifty new people had joined them on Batuu, not including the hundred and fifty strong covert he had just visited that would be joining them when they went to Concord Dawn. For some reason he was finally coming to understand, seeing him, seeing the Darksaber again in the hands of a Mand'alor ready to reunite their people gave them something Bo-Katan's word never would.

The last group hadn't been as easy to convince as Skord and his tribe. Most of them had felt honor bound to follow him as Mand'alor but the dangers of revealing themselves were real. In the end, their desire to live freely and go home had won out.

His beautiful wife was waiting for him when he put the Cin Vhetin down in the cavernous hangar. They'd only been gone a few days but he had missed his family. Ignoring the other two Mandalorians that had gone with him, Din slid his helmet off as he walked down the ramp to pull Omera into his arms.

Her laugh at his eagerness became a pleased moan against his lips when he kissed her. "I missed you."

She smiled, amused and just as pleased to have him home as he was to be there. "We missed you too."

As his hands slid down her sides, he noticed something new. His right hand traced across the unmistakable sheen of forged beskar, lingering on the raised mud horn over her heart. Glancing questioningly into her eyes, her smile faltered slightly.

"It was a gift… from the Armorer. She said I should wear it when we go to Chandrila, as your riduur and a representative for our people. What do you think, Din?"

If he was honest, part of him hated the idea of her in armor. He hadn't intended for her to become a Mandalorian, to become a warrior again, when he'd married her. She was the most important person in his life and the mother of his children. That meant he wanted to protect her and keep her far away from that kind of danger.

But… danger had already found them once. They had been extremely lucky that Xi'an had chosen to act rashly upon finding them instead of going with her original plan. Even with Paz's help, he wasn't sure he would have been able to protect them had all seven of her crew shown up to their home in the night. Besides, wearing beskar these days made you a target. At least now they had enough numbers to feel more secure.

Then again, she was his riduur, his partner—the mud horn was evidence enough of that—and he knew that she would be more than capable in a fight. She had been long before he'd ever met her. The image of her in a full set of beskar'gam beside him in battle made him feel an entirely different kind of emotion the longer he thought about it. For some reason he couldn't quite name, there was something extremely arousing about her wearing beskar. Smirking, he dragged a finger from the signet, his signet, down the curved piece below that snugly cupped her breast.

"It looks good on you."

Smile widening again, her arms wrapped around his neck to pull him down for another—much more heated—kiss. After several seconds, someone coughed behind them and he reluctantly pulled back only far enough to see Omera's heated eyes and swollen lips. Oh, they were definitely continuing this when they were alone.

"Honestly, the way they act they could probably re-populate Mandalore all by themselves."

Taking his wife's hand, he tossed a condescending smirk over his shoulder in Paz's direction. He was one to talk.

"Dik'ut! That's rich coming from you. Tell Cara I said hello, I'm sure you'll see her before I will."

Now that he was familiar with his face, it wasn't hard to imagine the shocked look he must have beneath the helmet. Beside him, Asta turned to look up at him, her whole body betraying her surprise. Paz only crossed his arms, his glare obvious to Din even through the visor.

When he turned back to Omera, intending to take her home, she had her hands clasped over her mouth to hold in laughter. Grinning widely and letting a laugh of his own slip out, they left as quickly as she could manage. Finally back in their apartment she stopped holding it in, hardly able to get her words out she was laughing so hard.

"How long… have… you known?"

Din shook his head as he tugged her toward their room. "I accidentally caught them together the day before we left." He shuddered at the memory. "I was looking for Paz. I kept my mouth shut and slipped back out as soon as I realized what I was seeing. More than I ever needed to."

She guffawed and nodded. "Well I suppose that's only fair." He sighed, remembering the only time Cara had entered their home unannounced while Winta was at lessons four days after they were married. Fair was one word for it. "I didn't have to walk in on them, she told me. Apparently it's 'just sex' but she thinks he's starting to catch feelings. She won't admit it but…" Her smile was fond. "I think she is too."

Shaking his head at the very thought, he kissed his wife until the only person on her mind was him.