Author's note: Sorry, short update this time. I haven't had the brain cells to write much lately, so I'm trying to ease myself back into it.
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Chapter Four:
The Blonde
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The next time Din Djarin met his imminent wife was at a cantina on Ryloth. He was there for a bounty and had good intel that they'd be here tonight. The Mandalorian had been waiting there for a while, having hidden himself away in a back corner where he could see every exit. He'd been there long enough for the other patrons to forget the novelty of a Mandalorian, and so he was thoroughly camouflaged by the colorful press of bodies, chatter, and flashing lights.
Or at least that's what he thought.
Suddenly, she was there at his elbow. He hadn't seen her approach, and was so startled by her appearance and proximity that he'd instinctively tried to draw his blaster. But she was faster, smacking it flat against the tabletop with her palm and pinning it there before it was raised high enough to catch the attention of the half-drunken patrons and cause a scene.
She was disguised again - differently to the other two personas he'd seen. She was blonde now, her hair long and piled up on the top of her head in an intricately braided bun. Her eyes were a dazzling shade of blue that was made electric by the neon lights of the cantina.
In truth, it wasn't until she flashed him a broad grin and spoke with her distinct Movetian accent that he saw past the potential threat she presented to the shape of her face and olfdo glint in her eyes.
"Up for another deal, Mando?"
She released her hold on his blaster and Din relaxed back into his seat, tucking it back into the holster. He tilted his helmet to the seat opposite of him.
"You sure? You overpaid last time," he informed her, keeping his voice light and conversational.
She chuckled, sliding into the other side of the booth. "Overpaying is a kinder mistake than underpaying, I've learned."
He grunted his understanding. "It worked out, I take it?"
She grinned mischievously. "A little too well."
"That's good." He meant it. A deep, inexplicable part of him had worried for her, but he didn't like to dwell on it. "How did you find me?"
"You're a Mandalorian. Anonymity doesn't equal discretion."
"Suppose not." He forced his attention back to the room, having to remind himself of the real reason he was in the cantina. "What's the deal?"
"Similar to the last one." Instead of her usual leathers and furs, she wore dark robes lined with deep red and gold. From her cloak, she withdrew a sack of credits similar to the one she'd given him last time. It clinked when she sat it on the table between them. "15,000 now, because it requires more effort on your part. Plus what you receive for the commission, which alone would be worth your time."
She had his attention. "Who's the contact?"
"Another loose end in need of cutting." She pushed up her sleeve and cast a glance at the watch hidden beneath. "But we can discuss details later. Bernar Dens will be here shortly."
Bernar Dens was the name of the bounty he intended to capture tonight. He glared at her warily as she slid out of the booth and stood. "How do you know that?"
She sniffed. "I don't make a habit of walking into a situation without knowing all the variables." She nodded to the bag of credits still on the table. "That's half of the payment. You'll get the other half when we establish the details."
Fair enough. She turned to leave, but paused when he asked after her, "How do I find you?"
She quirked an eyebrow at him. "You don't. I'll find you."
She melted into the crowd; there one moment, gone the next. Although he was watching the exits, he never saw her leave. Maybe she didn't. Maybe she still lurked in the shadows, waiting for him to finish this job so they could get on with the next. He imagined that she was trying to not distract him, but distract him she did.
Bernar Dens walked in a few minutes later, and suddenly he couldn't afford to be distracted. He was a professional, after all.
And really, he hoped that she stayed; that she was hidden away, watching him work with the efficiency and skill that had earned his people their reputation.
He hoped she liked what she saw.
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