The Armourer
It was late when Din finally got the chance to tell their buir about his new friend. After the forge had been banked into a warm homey glow. Buir had kept her ever watchful gaze on her boys as they spent the evening helping her do chores around the forge.
The Tribe had scattered their separate ways for the evening. Parents gathering their children up and headed in the direction each aliit called home. Older siblings calling their younger ones to their sides as they were told to. The youngest were often times cuffed upside the head for taking such a long time to respond and making their parents worry, but such was the ways of their people.
The Forgemaster gathered her younglings up, just like the rest and headed past the forge to their quarters. Paz is excitedly asking her when he can finally begin his Rising Phoenix training, his head reaching her upper arm. Din is trailing behind her just slightly on her other side, the smaller boy normally this reserved. It worried the mother that her youngest was so self-reliant and didn't seek friends to play Hunters or Tag among their Tribe. But she understood it ultimately, that was just Din's way. He seemed to enjoy Paz's affection in the tussles and the rough housing.
Din was the quieter one, had been since Jarik had found him and lifted him away from the droid massacre. The day her riduur had walked into her forge carrying the small trembling fragile boy was one she would not soon forget. She had gained a second child that day. She chose Din as the child of her heart that night as she had held him in her arms. It would take them many years before Din was fully comfortable with the three of them, but it was not without its struggles. Those among their Tribe knew that rescuing Younglings in such a way had a lot of obstacles. But they were Mando'ade. In the aftermath of the Sieges, it wasn't just the You glints that they rescued that were hurting and in pain. They had lost much in the Siege, verda had fallen in countless numbers.
If it hadn't been for Bo-Katan Kryze and her leadership, countless more would have been wiped out. Kryze was a crafty leader, she would give her that single compliment. She had made sure that the previous outposts scattered throughout the Rim were stocked for emergencies, siphoning out the artisans and the younglings as the war progressed. Trying to save what could be saved of their home and their culture. It was a debt that Forgemeaster could not repay to their Leader.
It was only later, during the Siege of their home world when Kryze had demanded that the fighting Corps that were away stay away and to go dark. That was when those not on their home soil had found out the terrible news.
Mandalore had fallen.
Only a sole regiment of Kyr'stad had survived.
That was the legacy of Mandalore. A sole regiment of verda that had survived the Siege. Jarik and the Forgemaster had once been part of that regiment. They had taken their wounds and hidden away from the world, tending to their own for such a while. It was later, after Paz had gained some age and height to him, that Jarik had convinced her that they needed to help other worlds. She didn't like him to leave, yet the Forgemaster knew her riduur had made his mind up as it were.
So she picked up her tongs again.
She had lit a fire in an old abandoned workshop and put hammer to anvil. She had laid them down ages ago to pick up a blaster and to protect her home world. The Forgemaster had originally been trained to such skills, but hands that had grasped blasters and knives and rifles were now forced to relearn the skills that she had forgotten. Skills she had learned as a child at her ba'buir's side were relearned as she sought to protect her family. She chose tools, not weapons, to protect with now. She made armour that would withstand and guard the fragile flesh underneath. Armour made from the toughest of beskar and forged through countless fires to be as durable as it could be.
They called her the Armourer now. Only her husband called her by her birth name. A name that held no more weight these days because those that gave it to her lay in unmarked graves ona ruined world far from where their Tribe called home these days.
In mando'a literature, it is the forge that was the heart of the home.
Aliit gathered around the fires to be warm, to mend their weapons and to repair their armour. Mothers made food by the fires, crafting meals that fed their young. It is where the young gathered to be warm in the nights of blizzards as the elders would spin their tales of grander.
Those that worked the forge were special. They were the matriarchs of the families. Entrusted to create the family signet and to craft the helms that would cover their faces from the world.
She had become the Tribe's.
The glow of the forge flickered off her helm, reflecting off the golden plates as her hammer clanged against metal. Beginning to shape the metal into something new for a member of their Tribe.
~* THE LITTLEST GENERAL *~
It is later when Buir is almost done tucking Din into bed that he finally gets to tell her. The room is nothing special. It has two beds crammed into a previous supply closet. The rooms they call home lay close by the Forge.
Paz insisted that he get his own space, but there was none to be had, so they improvised. Paz had his tiny half and Din now has his half as well. Both had a bath, washing the day's oil and gunk and dirt off their bodies. Buir tsk-ing in that manner of her that said she was displeased and worried but they will talk later when their father had returned. But the day's adventures had been washed away, and new night clothes were soon gathered and put on. Boys were gathered for bed, blankets draped over slim tired out bodies as the night gathered.
Buir was used to Din's quiet nature, it was just another trait most Foundlings commonly shared. It was when her children were loud in an angry way that she began to worry. Often times it was Paz and Din at the center of the tribe's disturbance.
"I made a friend today, Buir!" The scraggly limbed child told her, eyes catching hers in the dim lighting.
How he was able to see through the helm and always look straight into her gaze, she would never understand.
"Ah." The woman''s work roughened hands cradled her youngest's face as she applied a healing salve."Is that how this happened then, ad?"
Her voice held a glimmer of reproach as her fingers pointedly grazed the yellowing and purpling skin.
"Uhuh." Din nodded, leaning forward, words beginning to come out of him in an unusual story. "Her name's Leia Skywalker. She's really something, Buir. I like her."
"Oh?" This was new and curious to her. Din had never before tried to interact with the other Foundlings his age. "Tell me about this Leia, Din?"
Paz, her eldest chimed in from his bed a few feet away. He lay on his side, eyes watching his Buir and vod. "She's aruetii. Her uncles live out in the crashed ship outside of town."
"And you got into a fight with this dala'ika?" Buir glanced downwards to Din's wide proud smile.
"She speaks Mando'a, buir!"
"Do tell, ad'ika." Buir prompted her youngest to talk. Din's eyes were lighting up in ways she had never seen. It was almost like her child was looking at her from the far side with the reflection of her forge between them.
This.
This was new, indeed.
New and curious to her in ways the Forgemaster never thought to be curious about. Yes, her children often clashed with each other like beskar'gam piecesglancing off each other. Such was the way life was when raising stubborn Mando'ade verda. Her boys were stubborn and hot headed in ways that often evolved to settling their differences with fists.
They were unyielding the same way good beskar could only be tempered by the heat of the forge.
She couldn't help but be quietly proud of her boys as she was yet again forced to make them do chores, attempting just one more time to make them get along and work out their differences. It was often times, hard grilling work raising her boys. Similar to metalwork, one does not simply stop when the metal refuses to shape properly. You just had to find the right application and use the right flames to work with.
So she listened to Din as he talked about his aruetii friend, acting for once like a normal youngling. She was inexplicably glad that her boys met such a girl. If this was the result, then maybe it wouldn't hurt to have her come around.
"Alright, you womp rats. To bed with you!" Her hands gathered her child's face and pulled him closer as she leaned down. The soft warm child's skin bumped reassuringly against the cold metal of her crafted helm in a hard cold kiss. Din's eyes closed, hands reaching up to grasp the wrists alongside his face. Holding her there, to make sure that while he wasn't looking his mother wouldn't suddenly vanish.
"You too, Paz." She called, knowing the fuss the elder would make if she were to try to give him the same affection as his brother. Paz always insisted that because he was older, he got to be treated like he was.
So grown up, that one.
It made her smile, how grown up Paz thought himself but looking at him, she was faced to realize how exactly young the boy truly was. So in response, she ruffled both boys' hair as she left the small bare bedroom. Flicking the light completely out as she went.
"Buir?"
"Yes, Din?" The woman stopped in the doorway. Her back facing the boys, light glinting off metal plates as she slowly faced him over her shoulder.
"Can Leia come visit the Tribe?" Din's words were laced with a sleepiness that softened her words almost instinctively as she made her reply.
"Of course she can. Leia will always be welcomed in our halls, my child." The golden helm lowered a fraction as she nodded. "Now to bed, you devil. Unless you want to do more chores for me of course?"
"No buir." Din's tired growl was her reply as he rolled over and finally went to sleep.
~* THE LITTLEST GENERAL *~
The day that Leia is introduced to the Mandalorian Tribe is the day that the Forgemaster realized how quiet things were Before. The very first thing she is introduced to when Leia comes through the door of her forge is deja vu.
Leia stands in a way that reminds her achingly of days before the Siege. Of when she first met a young Padawan of the Jetii. Of a girl who had become a sister on the battlefield and who had the same fire in her soul. It hurts in ways she thought she had healed.
The Forgemaster's second thought is that she is small.
Din's scraggly limbed height towers over the girl, dwarfing her in ways that are both adorable and wistful. Her boy was not tall for his age, years of unnecessary neglected nourishment forcing his body to be small and wiry. But the way Leia barely reaches his shoulder is another thing.
Leia is a small compact thing with entirely too much spirit for her tiny frame. She has all of that steadfastness to her that her boys have and more. Leia burns like a sun going nova. She is flames and heat and the child expresses it in a way that forges people around her.
Din leads her through the maze of underground tunnels with a smile she has never seen. It is wholesome in its wide carefree shape. There is no reservation to her boy as he drags his friend to meet her.
"Leia, I'd like for you to be introduced to my Buir." Din excitedly tells her, pulling his friend closer with a hand around her wrist.
Brown brilliant amber eyes that are too wise for one so small look uncannily into her helm, meeting her eyes underneath. Her eyes are not the only thing to make the Forgemaster halt as she turns to face the children. Her smile is warm and wide and it's gentle and playful the same way a lothcat can be when being tamed. Her soul shines bright through her smile, and it is like a blazing hearth fire. She did not know whether to be afraid that this child may one day be capable of burning down the galaxy or to embrace her for her warmth.
"You must be the aruetii my ad have so fondly told me about." The tall woman settled her tools back in their places on the rack. "You may call me, the Armourer or Forgemaster."
Leia smiles even wider, if such a thing were even possible. "It is an honor to meet you, ma'am." Leia inclined her head seriously before popping back up to talk to her. Such was the manner of Younglings. "My aunt used to tell me stories about the great forgemasters of Mandalore."
"Did she now?" This was curious indeed. This aruetii girl who knew some of their culture but had never claimed to be one of them. "And how did your ba'vodu know of our great masters, Leia?"
Leia's face fills with sadness, the older woman is all but familiar with. It is the same way a storm will suddenly appear out of nowhere before dumping its' burden on the land with it's soggy sorrow. "She fought in the Siege with my uncles. She's been missing ever since the Empire found us on Randon-III."
Leia struggled with her sadness, finally locking it behind shields once more before she shrugged her shoulders. "That was nearly four years ago."
"I am sorry if I brought up memories you do not find pleasant, little one. Perhaps she has joined the Manda, yes?"
"Rex says that if she survived she'll find us one day. If not, then maybe she's watching out for my father now. Jesse says if anyone needs watching over it's him, even if he's dead."
Oh.
Oh the poor thing.
~* THE LITTLEST GENERAL *~
The Forgemaster walked towards the children before kneeling in front of the children. Her deft hands pulled a small silver beskar pendant out of a pocket, loops of black twine braided together dangling from it.
"Do you know what this means, dala'ika?" Seeing Leia's wide eyed gaze and nod, she continued. A smile hidden behind her helm, but not the cant of her head. "This is a symbol of Mando'ade. Children are given this to wear when they join our Tribe. It is now yours, Leia'ika."
Deft hands untangled the length of the rope, slipping the necklace over the child's head and letting it rest on the girl's chest.
"Your aunt may not come back, but you will always be welcomed here among us."
"Thank you, Armourer." Leia's Hands grasp the pendant with a reverence that speaks more than words.
"You are most welcome, Leia'ika." The Forgemaster hefted herself good her feet, looking down at the two younglings. "Now, why don"t you two go find Paz and explore. I have much work to complete before this day is over with."
Author's note: whelp I originally didn't plan on getting too heavy with the backstory in this one but, oh well. I may have to separate out all of Din's and Leia's separate adventures into another story for you guys, but I can promise you at least several! I love the reviews and the kudos and favorites and subscribes! It's honestly kept me from putting this whole universe away in a box, so thank you
Translations:
Aruetii- outsider
Di'kut- idiot
Jaro- death wish
Gar shuk meh kyrayc- literally; you're no use dead.
Staab gaanymir- right punch, to- basically right hook.
K'atini- suck it up OR it's only pain
Mando'a- Mandalorian language
Bavodu'e- plural for aunt/uncle.
Dala-woman. 'Ika- little. Basically little girl or woman.
Jetii-Jedi
Aliit-family
Vod-brother
Mando'ade-children of Mandalore
Buir- father/mother. Basically parent
Beskar'gam; Mandalorian armour that they wear.
Riduur; spouse, husband or wife, partner.
Verda; plural for soldiers
Kyr'tsad; Death Watch.