A/N: Please keep in mind that this is very much an A.U. just like the rest of this universe. I also know that there are already many similar stories about these two, and it probably qualifies as unlikely, OOC, and romantic drivel, but I don't care. I hope you enjoy it anyway. :D

You can safely assume that all events from Chapters 1-3 in season one of 'The Mandalorian' series also took place here. I'm not going to rehash them at this time so I hope you watched them first. As for Chapter 4, I'm taking liberties with it and changing things up to suit me, but the main events, like the battle with the AT-ST, are going to be exactly the same and I won't be describing it much. Chapter 5 and onwards will also take place exactly as they happened. At the moment, Omera doesn't come with a last name, so I have invented a fun one for her that would make sense to Twilight fans. I'll change it if she ever receives a real one.

The Mandalorian Finds His Cyar'ika:

D114/9 ABY, Sorgan

The first time Omera Blackwolf saw the armoured Mandalorian, she had all of the village children gathered around her as she taught them their daily lessons. His arrival understandably caused instant chaos.

They all jumped to their feet with cries of joy at the excuse to abandon their schooling for the day as the village astromech brought the community speeder sled to a halt in the middle of the village. She opened her mouth to admonish their bad manners but all sound died on her lips as she got her first good look at the people in the sled. The children immediately swarmed around the newcomers while Omera stood frozen, several feet away, and gazed at only one of the three strangers Stoke and Caben had brought back. Her eyes were wide and unblinking, and she was barely breathing as her heart pounded in her chest.

It was the faceless man from her dreaming fantasies.

The man who loved her until she woke up shaking with the memory of sweet orgasms and crying because there was never anyone there when she opened her eyes in the dark of her hut.

She didn't know how she knew it was the one who had visited her like a phantasm for the last two years, considering the lover in her dreams most certainly wasn't armoured in them, but she did. And she didn't even think to question her instinct.

He hopped off the speeder sled with agile ease, helmeted head slowly turning from left to right and back again as he looked at their quaint village. Despite not being able to see his face, she didn't sense any disdain from him at their lack of grandeur and that made her like him right from the start.

He wasn't the tallest man she'd ever seen, but he was big in his silver armour. She also happened to know that he would be big without it as well, having run her mental fingers over every one of his mouthwatering muscles a hundred times or more. The armour reflected the sunlight and sent glinting reflections all around him. The stunned widow breathed in a sigh of relieved awe. He's like a knight in shining armour come to save us. All that's missing is a proud steed.

But the Mandalorian didn't have a steed.

What he did have was a big gun, a tough looking but very beautiful female companion in teal blue and black leather and armour who introduced herself as Cara Dune, a sled full of containers, and a tiny green toddler of unknown species that her daughter, Winta, was absolutely in love with after about point zero five seconds.

Somehow, Omera shook herself out of her shock and stepped forward, only registering the other people around them in a vague fashion as her heart beat frantically in her chest and thundered in her ears. It's him. It's him. It's him. It's him, her heart seemed to say with every ker-thump. She walked up to him on trembling legs and came to a stop directly in front of him in what could only be called his personal space because it took that long to get her legs to stop moving.

Her first instinct was to throw her arms around him and rest her head on his chest while blabbering about how happy she was to finally see him in real life even though she knew that was a ridiculous idea. Her arms rose slightly anyway, so she commanded them to do something else slightly less stupid. Nervously playing with a lock of her waist length, dark chocolate coloured hair was the best she could come up with.

His helmeted head lowered and she stared up into the black visor that only showed her a reflection of her own face. "Can I help you?" he rumbled out in a slightly mechanical voice that was still deep and sexy and turned her stomach to instant butterflies as she recognized the voice from her dreams despite the fact that it came from the speakers of his helmet. Oh stars, it IS him!

Her mouth opened to answer him, but nothing came out for the longest time. Only her fluttering fingers on her hair gave proof to the fact that she was still a (barely) functioning human being. Kriff! I must look like a simpering idiot. Shut your mouth, let go of your hair, and answer the man, you pathetic, lovestruck, flitterhead. That other woman is probably his lover or wife and you're making a fool of yourself!

She dropped her hands, snapped her jaw shut, and took a deep breath. And then she gave him a pathetic version of her best smile. "Sorry. It's just… well… just." Get it together, girl! "Thank you for coming," she gushed out. "My name's Omera and I occasionally pass for the leader of our little village when one is needed. If you want to come with me, I can show you were you can put your things." Relieved to have said what was needed without stuttering further, she turned towards the old barn that suddenly didn't seem like a worthy enough place for him to stay.

Din Djarin looked around the little village that he hoped would become a long-term sanctuary for The Child and himself and found it to be just about perfect. There were other children who already seemed enamored with The Child and the little green womp rat seemed just as excited to see them. The huts were simple but looked like better shelter than many of the places he'd spent the night. The people were all dressed in grey and teal clothes of a comfortable looking linen-like cloth. And best of all, they were surrounded by beautiful green forests and tranquil ponds with a meandering river nearby that looked perfect for swimming. Not a bad place to stop for a while at all.

And then his eyes settled on The Woman.

The woman who was staring at him with big eyes and a hand to her chest as if to hold in her heart.

She was beautiful in a simple, earthy way that far exceeded the overly painted woman of the upper classes of planets like Coruscant and Hosnian Prime. Her hair was long and brown and wavy and fell down to a narrow waist that flared out to nicely rounded hips. Her equally attractive looking chest heaved under her hand as she sucked in a breath. She had a beautiful mouth that looked made for kissing. An adorable nose. Elegant cheekbones. Stunning slanted dark brown eyes.

He knew those eyes.

He knew that figure.

The rest of her face was new, but he'd seen her eyes in his dreams. He'd seen her beautiful naked body in his arms and underneath him. He'd heard echoes of her cries of completion in his mind every time he woke up for the last two years. He knew how she felt on the inside.

Incredible. Perfect. The Woman was everything.

She was the reason he hadn't sought out another female to ease his needs for years; because he had no urge left to do so after his dreams left him feeling satisfied and complete (if a bit messy). The only downside was that they came with an aftertaste of feeling depressingly lonely.

Thanks to The Child, he wasn't lonely anymore, but in that case, he hadn't been entirely convinced that was a good thing. He'd already blown his standing with the Guild for the green menace that had somehow attached himself to his heart, and now he was forced to hide for who knows how long to keep his self-inflicted charge safe.

As Din laid eyes on The Woman, he finally made up his mind about whether or not The Child's needy companionship was worth it.

It was.

For The Child had brought him to the woman of his dreams.

Thank the Manda.

(Two seconds of deep thought later.)

Or not.

How he was going to make a relationship with her work while still keeping his helmet on was another matter entirely.

For what woman in their right mind would want to love a man that she could never see or even touch the face of?

In the past, there'd always been women who'd gotten off on the idea of having a Mandalorian warrior frag them senseless, not caring that he didn't bother to do more than move the necessary clothing aside. But for this woman, Din didn't want that. He wanted what they had in his dreams. What he'd ONLY ever experienced in his dreams.

Naked, sweaty, long, hard, sweet, and absolutely perfect lovemaking. Lovemaking that included delicious kisses all over her delicious body.

But that meant giving up the only way of life he knew, and he wasn't sure if he could do that.

Not even for her.

So Din shoved his emotions back into the box in his mind where he usually kept them and did his best to seem indifferent as The Woman walked up to him. She couldn't know it was him. She couldn't possibly share the sex dreams too, could she?

The way she walked right into his space and proceeded to lose all semblance of intelligence as she stared up at him with wonder in her eyes tore his emotions right back out of their box and sent his wishful thinking right down the garbage chute.

Play it cool, Din. She can't know that you know that she knows.

Shabla, that was convoluted.

Just pretend she's just another annoying being to deal with. You can do it. You do it all the time.

"Can I help you?"

Yeah. That was good. Impersonal. Not too nerfherderish.

The Woman opened her mouth to answer but nothing came out.

He knew exactly how she felt.

He waited patiently for her to pull herself together, happily drinking in her beautiful features, grateful that his helmet hid the melting look his face must be wearing. The Child was also good at inspiring the same look of utter devotion. But The Child also inspired just as many looks of complete exasperation. I hope this woman doesn't also. I might go mad.

She finally got her act together enough to talk but he missed nearly all of it because his brain had become otherwise occupied while he was waiting for her. His eyes had been drawn back down to those soft looking lips that were parted just so and he'd started imagining how it felt to kiss them. He just caught the name Omera, and his mind got stuck on that next. Omera. That's really pretty. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Omera. Omera. Omera. Omera.

He missed the rest of her words, but something in her body language indicated he was supposed to follow her, so he did. (After checking that The Child was all right with his ring of young admirers.) His heart (and manhood) jumped around happily as he followed her gently swaying hair and hips, exclaiming that he should always follow her anywhere she wished to go. A step later, as he nearly tripped on a wooden stair into the building she was leading him into, his mind finally kicked back into logical mode and he told his heart (and manhood) to shush. The Woman is not for us. She doesn't need a broken man with a bounty on his head taking up space in her life. Besides… What if she's already married? A beautiful woman like that? Surely someone has already claimed her?

He wasn't sure if wanted to know the answer to that question. On the one hand, if she wasn't taken, he'd have to live with a fight between his conscience and his heart (and his frisky manhood) that might tear him in two. But if she WAS taken, he'd have to suffer with knowing that someone else was sharing a bed with the one woman he instinctively knew was his stars given cyar'ika.

A beloved soulmate was not easy to find and his was standing right in front of him but was also completely inaccessible.

No matter how I look at it, this situation sucks nerf balls. Great, big, disgusting, hairy ones.

The Woman... Omera, her name is Omera… had led him into a largish hut only a few metres from the speeder.

"I'm sorry this is the best we can offer you. It used to be a livestock barn, but no one's had anything alive in it for years. Now it's just a storage space and a place to brew the spotchka. I hope this is all right for you and your family?"

Din had been looking around the space at the dusty crates, the big tubs, the basically see-through walls made of closely placed sticks, and the hard plank floor when her words registered. He spun around and was quick to shake his head. "They're not my family. I just met Ms. Dune yesterday in town and hired her to help with your raider problem." The look of relief on her face made him ridiculously happy. "And the little green child… thing, well, I picked it up as a job and somehow it stuck."

Omera smiled sweetly, laughing like a bell. "I can see that. He is adorable."

Din glanced out the doorway at said child thing and saw him looking a little overwhelmed. Cara seemed to be having her own problems as she was surrounded by a small horde of men, from teens to mature adults who seemed to find her badass figure fascinating. "Speaking of The Child, I think he could use a little quiet time after such a long ride. I'll just…"

He didn't bother explaining himself in further words as he left the barn and strode over to the speeder. The children naturally parted for him, in awe of his large and intimidating form. Din picked up The Child from the container he was sitting on, receiving a relieved coo as thanks. The Child snuggled into his side as he cradled him in an arm. "It's not a toy," he told the children firmly. Their faces fell, but they didn't offer further protest, which he was glad for.

Seeing that he'd caught the attention of everyone else present, Din stared coldly at the men surrounding Cara. "My comrade is not a toy either."

The men groaned.

Cara laughed. "They're just curious, Mando. Don't get your panties in a twist."

Din glared, wishing she could see through his helmet at that instant.

"Besides," she continued, planting a fist on a hip. "I can handle myself." All eyes shot to her thick, tattooed bicep clearly on display and Din could just see the men mentally measuring it against their own and watched their faces freeze as they realized she was most definitely stronger than the entire lot of them. One or two got past the crushing blow to their male pride and gave her looks of adoration that just inspired the buff woman to smile sweetly at them in return. I'll eat my boot if even a single one of these wimps wins their way into her bed while we're here.

Leaving Cara to take care of herself and entertain the villagers with her war stories, Din scooped up his bag that contained his and The Child's personal effects with his free hand and then headed back into the barn. There, he found Omera had pulled a cradle out of somewhere and was dusting it off with a corner of her apron. She turned her head and smiled as he entered. He found himself smiling in return, but she would never see it under his helmet.

"I hope this is acceptable for the little one," she said softly, eyes falling to the child in question before digging out a blue blanket from a crate and folding it carefully into the cradle.

"That will be fine, I'm sure." Din put The Child in the cradle and watched as it took in its new surroundings with those irresistible big eyes. The Child then looked back up at him and smiled, cooing happily. "It has spoken; the cradle is fine." Thank you, Kuill. Now you have me saying it.

Omera laughed her bell-like laugh again, reaching out a finger for The Child to grab with his tiny, three fingered hands. "What is it?"

"I don't know. But an Imperial seemed to know well enough to want it very badly. It must be very rare."

"I meant is it male or female," she said, turning her head and laughing up at him.

"Oh. It is male."

"If you know that, then why do you call him an it?" Her face only showed curiosity and no judgment, which he was more than grateful for, since he suddenly felt like an insensitive lout.

"I… I did not want to get attached to it… him."

"It didn't work, did it?"

"No."

"Does he have a name?"

"No. I call it The Child in my head. That's seems stupid now that I think about it, but I don't feel like I have the right to name it." She gave him a look. "Him. Sorry. Habit."

Omera smiled with warm approval, which sent his heart into palpitations. "Then you should start thinking of names for him. He's clearly your boy now. You should give him a name."

Din's emotions recoiled in fear at being permanently responsible for something so small and helpless. Fear that his affection for The Child would get them both killed. "I'll think about it." He sighed audibly as The Child looked up at him with those eyes as if he knew what they were saying and eagerly approved of the idea. Din hadn't seen any proof that The Child understood Basic, though, since he had yet to obey a single one of his orders. "It seems strange to be naming him, though. According to the Imperial client, this child is fifty standard years old. He's older than me by more than a decade. He must have a name already. Wouldn't you think?"

Omera raised a surprised brow at that, but then shrugged. "The galaxy is a massive place with many unknowns still; a species that ages slower than molasses isn't that weird, all things considered. And if he has a name, it's been lost. Something tells me he would love to be named by you. He clearly loves you."

Din nearly squirmed with unease at her words, reinforced by The Child's big eyes that watched him endlessly. But I'm not worthy of love. "I suppose I can think about it." The unease settled a little at his concession and he breathed easier as if he'd just allowed himself to think of The Child as his. Din contemplated the gurgling toddler. "What do you think, womp rat? Should I come up with a name for you?"

The Child cooed happily and then jumped right out of the cradle and into his hastily raised arms in a move that had nearly started the osik out of him a week ago the first time he'd done it.

"I'll take that as a yes," Din said dryly even as he cuddled The Child to his chest armour. I haven't got the foggiest idea what to call you, though, my little womp rat.

I suppose Wompie would be a bad idea.

"Speaking of names…" Omera said as she pulled a window shutter open by a string. Din grimaced at where this was going before she even finished her sentence. "…You haven't told me yours."

He stifled the urge to sigh as he cuddled The Child a little tighter for comfort. "That's because I can't tell you. Most people call me Mando. You can also, if you wish."

Omera was now the one grimacing. "That's so… impersonal."

"It's meant to be."

"Can you at least take your helmet off?"

"No." He felt terrible as her expression dropped from hopeful to disappointed with only one curt word from him.

"I see."

This time, he let the sigh out. Din put The Child back in the old wooden cradle and stepped over to Omera, who'd turned her back to him, fussing needlessly with the knot in the window string. Knowing he shouldn't, he touched her shoulder lightly. "I'm sorry. I can't go against my beliefs, not even for you."

She turned around, looking into his visor as if reading his eyes, a glimmer of hope appearing in hers again. "You say 'not even for me'. What do you mean be that?"

He shook his head slowly. "I can't…"

A sound at the doorway had him spinning, blaster palmed and pointed at the threat in less than an instant.

Omera gasped behind him, and the young girl in the doorway ducked back out of sight. Omera rushed past him and held out her hand for the girl. Mortified that he'd pointed a blaster at a child, he holstered it and vowed to himself to look before he pointed while he was here; this peaceful place was a far cry from the usual dives he inhabited and needed to be treated as such.

The woman gently pulled the child into his line of sight again and the little girl who looked about eight years old wrapped her arms around Omera's waist and peaked at him shyly. The girl's facial features were a little different from Omera's but she had the same slanted brown eyes and the same skin tone and hair. With a sinking feeling, he knew what Omera was going to say before she said it. "This is my daughter Winta. We don't get a lot of visitors around here. She's not used to strangers."

With those words, his heart finished its drop down to the region of his stomach. Of course she's married. Didn't I already assume so? Why do I care so much? I can't pursue a relationship with her anyway.

Omera continued on, oblivious to his pain as she addressed her daughter. "This nice man is going to protect us from the bad ones."

Winta squeaked out a, "Thank you," as she looked at him from the safety of her mother's arms.

All he could manage was a simple nod as he replayed Omera's words in his mind. Nice man. No one's ever called me a nice man before. Bastard and scumbag are much more common.

Omera smiled that soft smile at him that never failed to melt his insides and then she looked down at her daughter with the same expression. "Come on Winta, let's give our guest some room."

As they walked away, every atom in his body begged him to call for her to come back.

He didn't.

A/N: If you're curious, yes this storyline will tie into the Spectres' storyline. :P And yes, just like the rest of planet Earth, I am VERY much googoo gagaing over Baby Yoda, and thus, Din and Omera are coming along for the ride as I write a HEA for the three of them that I can almost guarantee Disney is NOT going to give us.