Author's Note
I didn't die, I swear! Though I felt like I wanted to for a while there. I had the unfortunate pleasure of catching covid, and I wasn't one of the lucky people to have mild symptoms. Wasn't enought to put me in the hospital, but still, definitely not a fun experience. And I'm still dealing with an ear infection from the whole thing. But I'm finally starting to feel more like myself and I've gotten back to writing.
So now I give you a very fluffy and adorable chapter! Go onward and enjoy!
Night Sky
Mahin's fingers work tirelessly with the plastic needle, threading yarn through her collection of granny squares to stitch them together. Her stomach flutters with giddy anticipation. Finally, she has enough of the squares crocheted for her project. Well, both of her projects. Really, she considers it all the same project since one of them is simply a smaller version of the other.
The squares come together one by one, row by row, as Mahin sits cross-legged on her bed in the dead of night, child long since put to bed. No longer can she work on this in front of Mando. He'll take one look at it and know what she's working on. Really, it's not hard to guess, especially at this stage of construction.
Mahin reaches for another square to add to the ones already put together in her lap, the blanket slowly coming together.
The child's blanket already lays complete at the foot of her bed, squares neatly stitched together with a border crocheted around it to even out the edges. She could give it to him now but she really wants to present both blankets at the same time. She's almost done with Mando's. Just a few more squares and then the border. He's currently out on a hunt, stalking through the jungle that covers the entirety of this planet in search of his prey. He only started a few hours ago. He shouldn't return for a while yet.
Just enough time, she thinks as she stitches on the last square. She should have just enough time to finish his blanket before he returns or before her eyelids lose their fight with exhaustion. Whichever comes first.
She ties off the last stitch and then reaches for her crochet hook and yarn to get working on the border. So close. So close.
Her fingers know the moves even as her eyes grow heavy. Her body runs on autopilot without missing a stitch, determination fueling the fire that steadily wanes. It's late, she's not sure how late, but she keeps the hook going, round and around and around the outside of the blanket. She made it big—Mahin herself likes to wrap blankets around her in a cocoon and wanted to be sure this blanket was big enough for Mando to do the same—but she kind of regrets making it so large now that she struggles to keep herself going.
But she makes it. It takes her over an hour, but she makes it.
Just as she slips her hook into the final stitch the Crest vibrates with the grumble of the rear ramp opening. Excitement stokes her fire back into a steady flame. Mando's back. Her fingers move in a flurry, securing the last of the yarn and cutting off any excess threads with her knife. She hears Mando's boots clomp against the grating outside, the hiss of the carbonite freezer, the clunk and woosh of the weapon's cabinet as Mando puts his gear away, the sleep bunk sliding open to check on the child.
She stills, completed blanket clutched tightly in her hands as she listens for where Mando goes next. To get food? The refresher for a shower? Straight to bed and forcing her to wait until morning?
Kriff, maybe he'll check on her. She hears him do it sometimes when he gets back from a hunt this late at night. He assumes she's asleep and he just watches her for a few moments before heading up to the cockpit to get them back in hyperspace.
One of these days she'll gather the nerve to open her eyes when he does that. See what he does next when she catches him.
A door slides open then closed, the sound of the sonic shower turning on a few seconds later. Mahin grins, hastily standing to fold up both blankets into a neat little pile. He'll be a bit in the shower. Mahin just needs a moment.
Quickly, she darts out her bedroom door and places both blankets on the floor in front of Mando's sleep compartment. She then darts back into her room and slowly closes the door until only a sliver remains open. She crouches on the floor, eye pressed to the crack to watch.
She bites her lip, excitement and nervousness playing a game of tag in her stomach. Will he like her gift? Will he hate it? Will he think it's stupid? He has blankets, after all. Perfectly good blankets. He doesn't need another one. But she worked so hard on this one and it's nice, really nice if she says so herself. Despite the lacy holes in the granny squares' design, yarn keeps in heat really well, so it'll be great for when the ship gets cold while in space.
The shower turns off. Her breath catches in her throat, waiting. After what feels like forever, Mando finally steps out of the refresher in full armor, takes one step, and then stops right in front of the blankets, staring down at them. She watches him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction, but the man's entire body might as well be made of beskar for all that she can read his body language.
He crouches, picking up the top blanket and unfolding it. The child's blanket, only twelve squares big. Squares Mando surely recognizes since he's watched her make enough of them. He drapes the small blanket over his arm and picks up the other one as he stands, unfolding it to hold up in front of him. Obviously for him.
"Mahin," Mando calls out, head turning to stare at her door with an accusing tilt. He definitely sees her peeking out. She meeps in surprise at getting caught. She thought he'd just silently accept her gift and go to bed. Instead, it looks like he wants an explanation. She scrambles to her feet, debating on diving into bed to pretend to be asleep but, no, it's a little late for that already.
She sighs to herself. Really, she wants to know how he likes it. Why avoid it? It's not like he'll be mad at her for it.
Still, she exits her room to stand in front of Mando like a chastised child, scuffing her socked toe against the metal floor.
"You made this for m…you made these for us?" Mando asks, voice sounding so quiet. Vulnerable, almost, if she didn't know any better.
She looks up at him through the sweep of her bangs and nods.
"You didn't have to."
"I wanted to," she says, practically a whisper. "You've done so much for me. Opened your home to me. I wanted to show you how much I appreciate it. Y-You and the kid."
"You do that already. You take care of the ship. Take care of the kid. Kriff, take care of both of us, really. You don't owe us anything else."
Mahin shakes her head with a huff, struggling to find the words to make him understand. To make him understand how much all of this has meant to her. She reaches out, fingering the blanket in Mando's hands. She came up with the pattern almost instantly, buying up yarn in shades of blue on almost every planet she's visited since boarding the ship. From bottom to top, the squares transition from light blue to dark blue—so dark it almost looks black—with white stars stitched in randomly so the blanket resembles a night sky.
"I've told you a little about what my life's been like," she mumbles, keeping her eyes on her hands as she runs her thumb along the yarn. "I've always been running from the Empire. Hopping from planet to planet, keeping my head down, never feeling safe. Alone. Always alone, after my parents were…gone."
She swallows heavily, a weight settling on her chest every time she so much as thinks about her parents. She pushes the feeling away, determined not to let herself get lost in the ache they left behind. Not now. Not with Mando.
"In all of that traveling, I never saw the stars. Not really. I flew through them without seeing. Without caring. My life was only running, fighting, surviving. Even when I finally stopped running on Ulta-7, it was only ever surviving. But then you came along." A small smile pulls at her lips as she traces one of the stitched stars with her finger. "These last couple of months have been wonderful. You've given me the galaxy, Mando, and I've been able to actually take the time to see it—truly see it—without worry or fear of the Empire."
"They're still out there," Mando says—feels obligated to say, she suspects, because it is true. The Empire is still out there. Wanting her. And even though she's terrified of ending up in their hands, especially since it seems they want to do more than just kill Force users anymore, the fear doesn't feel as big with Mando near.
"I have you here with me this time, though. I have you at my back. I feel safe, with you. You've given me something I've never been able to have before. Not since my parents died. I have safety, and security, and I feel…I feel home. I've traveled the stars but now you're giving me the night sky." She spreads the blanket out between their hands, digging up the courage to drag her eyes up to look him in the visor, because something so big and so important hangs on the end of her tongue. Something she's held back. But the inevitability can't be held back forever, she's known that, and she's tired of holding it back anymore. So she takes a deep breath and confesses, "You're my night sky. Ner ca'tra. And I want you to know how important you are to me."
Mando stands there for a moment. Unmoving. Unblinking—even though she can't see his face, she can still tell, somehow. Holding her heart in his hands.
Then he steps forward. He pulls the blanket away and she lets it slip from her fingers so he can drape it over his left arm with the kid's. He raises his free hand. Slowly. Giving her time to pull away if she doesn't want it.
But she wants. Mahin wants.
His hand cups the side of her face, heat seeping into her through the soft leather of his glove. Her eyes remain transfixed on his visor as his head lowers. His forehead brushes against hers and then settles, both of their heads resting together.
Mahin's breath hitches.
She knows this. Knows what it means.
The Keldable kiss.
With Mandalorians almost always wearing their helmets, this is the only way they can show true affection. The closest they can get to an actual kiss while wearing beskar. She saw Mandalorians do this while on Ulta-7. They taught her the significance.
She knows.
Does Mando know she knows? After all, there's still so much of his culture she doesn't know yet. Still so much for her to learn.
But the way he holds her. The way the heat crackles between them. He knows exactly what he's doing, and that his intentions are understood.
So she steps closer, closing her eyes as she presses her forehead against his. Enjoying this new closeness. His left arm wraps around her waist to keep her there, other hand sliding from her cheek to bury his fingers in her hair at the back of her head.
"Ner ka'ra," he whispers, so quietly the modulator doesn't pick it up at all. She only hears because she stands close enough to hear it slip out from under the lip of his helmet. She still doesn't know what the word means but she knows—she knows—now that it must be some sort of term of endearment. A sign that he cares. A sign of this warmth growing between them.
She smiles, hands raising so her fingers can curl into his shirt at his sides not covered in armor. "Ner ca'tra."
Neither of them knows where this is going. They're not ready, yet, to put it into words. But they do know one thing.
They're home.
Author's Note
All the feels! We have presents and almost-love-confessions and hugs and Mandalorian kisses and Mahin giving him a Mando'a nickname. Choosing something for her to call him was difficult, I have to admit. But I wanted something unique and special to them, and I wanted it to be closely related to ka'ra, even though Mahin doesn't know that yet, of course.
Next chapter is more fluff! And a little bit more of Mahin's background, but not too much! I'm not doing any major reveals for quite a few chapters yet.
Hope you enjoyed, PLEASE REVIEW, and see you all next time!
Translations
Ner ca'tra - my nigth sky
Ner ka'ra - my star
