Suggested Listening:
Temptation - Natalie Holt (from Loki) | …awake
Ravona's Mission - Natalie Holt (from Loki) | …thoss
Ohio, 2018 - Natalie Holt (from Loki) | …vibrations in the floor
Marion's Theme - John Williams (from Raiders of the Lost Ark, the Vienna Philharmonic version) | … back in hyperspace
Ok listen lol I'm on a big Loki kick because the score is incredible, and I'm sorry, but you're just NOT gonna get more romantic than Marion's Theme! That being said, I found it rather hard to find exactly the right score for this moment, so pls let me know your suggestions in the comments!
The first thing I felt was intense, almost painful thirst.
My eyes felt glued shut and I couldn't tell whether I was vertical or horizontal, but I knew that my mouth was desperately dry. I coughed and slowly began trying to activate my muscles — my fingers moved first, then my feet, until finally I could drag my palms to the cold concrete I was laying on and push myself up to a sitting position.
My head spun. I took a reeling look around me and could only make out that I was in a large, dark room. There were figures in the corners. They were blurry forms, but I could assess that they were holding long weapons.
But the smell was what made it clear. I knew that smell — I couldn't even describe what it was, it wasn't any specific odor in particular, but it was as familiar to me as my own skin. I was home. My old home. My family's compound.
Instantly, my heart began to race as I swallowed and rubbed my eyes, trying to get my wits about me. As I moved, I saw one of the shadowy figures leave his post and exit through a sliding cement door. It slammed shut with an echoing thrum that caused my head to ache.
It was becoming clear, now. I leaned back on my hands and surveyed the guards surrounding me. I didn't recognize any of them — Well, of course, I thought bitterly. None of the lower-level men from six years ago are still alive. They're expendable.
I eyed them warily and clambered to my feet. When I took one step toward the door, all of them raised their weapons and trained them directly at my head. I froze, lifting my hands in cautious acquiescence. Raising my gaze, I spied a platform second level wrapping around the edge of the room, atop which stood six more guards.
After a moment, the door scraped open again. I squinted against the white light that poured into the dark room. In walked a tall, imposing silhouette, flanked by the guard that had left us only moments ago.
"Hello, daughter."
His icy voice lifted the hair on the back of my neck. My jaw set as the door closed and my father's face was visible in the dim light.
He looked older than when I'd last seen him. I supposed that was a given — I knew I looked older, too — and yet, just now, I felt my independence and wisdom and pride in my own abilities crumbling away. It was like being in front of him again stripped me of the last six years, leaving me a frightened child once again.
"It's funny, isn't it?" His pale eyes flashed with danger. "Home again?"
"This isn't home," I muttered, but my voice had a detectable waver.
His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head.
"That isn't very nice to hear," he said. "Is it, Thoss?"
My brother emerged from behind him, and my heart stopped. I had seen him back on Tatooine, from afar, but this was the first time in so long that I'd actually been able to look at him properly. He was towering, now — like our father — and his face no longer looked boyish and round. Instead, his copper curls hung over an angular freckled face, with a man's jaw and older-looking blue eyes. A painful lump appeared in my throat, and despite everything, I had to fight the urge to reach out to him. I realized that that poor little boy had been left behind, not once, but twice — and the latter by his own sister.
"You got tall," I ventured, my voice high and skating on breaking.
He didn't respond, in any way. He just looked at me, his eyes cold and his jaw clenched.
I looked back at my father.
"What do you want with me?"
He considered the question, looking confused and almost amused.
"What do I want with you?" He echoed, taking slow steps toward. As though activated, two guards strode forward from the corners and took my arms roughly, holding me in place. "You're my daughter. I want you home, where you belong."
He came to a stop in front of me. I looked up at him, my brow furrowed, trying to search for any shred of empathy in his eyes.
"You don't want me," I whimpered, shaking my head. "I'm no use to you. And I'm no threat to you. Just let me go back to my life and you'll never need to worry about me again."
He met my gaze and his expression softened. He examined my face and took in the tear spilling down my cheek. For a moment, I could have sworn I saw a glimmer of possibility.
Then, with a loud crash, the back of his fist flew across my face. I cried out, my skin stinging and the bones around my eye instantly becoming more painful every second. That's gonna be blue in a couple minutes, I thought bitterly.
"You've gotten soft, Thalen." My father looked down at me with disgust and began to circle me. "That isn't how I raised you."
I caught my breath, squinting against the radiating pain.
"Go get her," I heard him toss carelessly to a guard, who immediately left the room. Then, he circled around and came to face me again. "No one leaves. You know better."
I leveled my eyes with his, too weary to answer back.
"You understand that we can't let you leave again," He said with a condescending eyebrow raise. "Don't you."
"Because I know you," I muttered.
"Because you're a liability, daughter." He turned to address the rest of the room, elevating his voice. "And now, what to do with her?"
The door scraped open again and the room was suddenly filled with echoes of my aunt's voice, grunting and protesting as she was "escorted" in roughly by the guard.
"What the hell do you think you're playing at?" She barked at my father, her face harsh and her eyes manic with anger. "I brought you your daughter! I did that for you! And you can't let go of the past?"
My heart dropped into my stomach. My father pointed at her and looked back at me.
"Observe, Thalen. This is what betrayal looks like. How does it feel?"
I could barely look at her. It felt like my stomach was being degraded by acid.
"How," he murmured, coming closer to me. "…does it feel?"
I stared at the floor and stayed silent. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a cruel smile stretched across his face.
"Not good, hmm?"
"Thalus," pled my aunt. "I made a mistake years ago. I made it right as soon as I saw the opportunity. Surely it shows integrity and loyalty that I came back to you, praying for forgiveness."
He didn't look at her. Instead, he kept his gaze on me.
"What should we do with her?" His voice had a tempting lilt. "What would you do with her — after what she did to you?"
I squeezed my eyes closed — wincing as my left eye ached — and shook my head, my jaw clenched.
I'm not him, I repeated to myself in my head. I'm. Not. Him.
"Hmm," my father mused. After a moment, I looked back up at him, enough defiance in me to square off. He searched my eyes, then looked away, disappointed. "Kill her."
My aunt screamed and wailed as two guards carried her back out of the room. Her shrieks echoed, even through the stone wall. Hot tears erupted and I began to sob in horror, unable to bear the reality of what was happening.
My father began slowly circling me again.
"Your mother's sister was a disappointment," he said, loud enough for the whole room to listen. "She sealed her fate long, long ago. But you…"
He came to a stop and his voice became almost pleasant.
"…You're my flesh and blood. You're special, Thalen. You always have been."
My eyes instinctually flicked to Thoss, who was still staring daggers at me. My father stepped in front of me again.
"We could kill you… but I think it would be wiser to remind you who you are." He took my face roughly in his hand, squeezing my cheeks painfully. "You still have it in you, I can see it. That rage. That power. You're one of us, and it doesn't matter if you run to the other edge of the galaxy… you'll always be one of us."
I felt the loathing and fury bubbling up inside me and shooting out of my eyes at him. I hated him. I hated him for putting me in this impossible paradox — making me despise him so much, but reminding me that my despising him was a weakness that would forever be tied to the person he spent my whole life trying to make me become.
Suddenly, somewhere that sounded far away, there was a low rumble. I felt the floor beneath me vibrate, and the guards around me glanced at one another. My father dropped his hand from my face and he whipped around, glancing at the door. Within seconds, there were shouts and blasts, distant but unmistakeable.
My father looked annoyed but unimpressed.
"Go," he grumbled to Thoss, who pointed to several of the guards and took them with him out of the room. When the door slammed behind them, he let out an irked sigh and looked back at me. "Make no mistake. I could kill you. I've killed plenty of things that I've loved if it was necessary."
My mind flashed to my mother and I felt a renewed surge of rage. For the first time, I wrenched my arms away from their captors and struggled against their brute strength. The guards tightened their grips painfully on my arms, shoving them further behind my back. I cried out in pain as my shoulder bent at a sickly angle. My father shook his head and chuckled, mirthlessly.
"See?" He said, walking past me to circle me yet again. "There it is. That Brui blood. I'm glad to see it still runs red in your veins."
Suddenly, six loud blasts rang out, and there were rapid flashes of light. The guards on either side of me instantly dropped to the floor, limp. All of the guards on the platform above us slumped lifelessly to the ground, some slipping through the bars and tumbling to the floor beneath us. My father instantly whipped a long knife out of its sheath and within a second he was behind me, the blade pressed against my throat. My ragged breath echoed in the silence as I tried to stay as still as possible, afraid to even swallow.
"You have a friend, daughter?" He muttered in my ear with a tone of dark amusement. "Show yourself!"
I winced as his shout pierced my ear, and I frantically scanned the platforms for the hidden new element. Directly ahead of and above us, Din prowled out of the shadows, his blaster trained precisely. My breath caught in my chest at the sight of him.
"She dies, you die," Din growled slowly. "She bleeds, you die. She bruises, you die."
I felt a low, rumbling snicker rattle my father's chest against my back.
"You're… Din Djarin, aren't you?" He smiled. I felt my pulse quicken at the recognition. "So, that's where my daughter's been all these years — the whore of a bounty hunter."
I saw Din's free fist clench, and he took a step forward, gripping the gun tighter.
"That was my fault," muttered Din through gritted teeth. "I didn't specify: You insult her, you die."
"Or, in another view," my father replied. "I die, she dies."
He pressed the blade even further against my skin, and I winced.
"You have a reputation, Mandalorian," he continued. "You're known to be one of the best bounty hunters in the business. I have colleagues — men I respect and consider friends — who have told me themselves what excellent work you've done for them. My daughter has a ransom… it could be yours…"
His voice lilted, temptingly. I couldn't imagine Din selling me out for any amount of money — not after everything we'd been through — but the tension in the air felt oppressive, nonetheless.
"Say you brought her to me. My men died in an accident, and you delivered Thalen back to us, like a bounty. How much?" My father posited. "What is she worth to you?"
I looked at Din, holding my breath. He didn't move. Finally he spoke, his voice a low growl.
"Everything."
An unseen door behind him flew open and bolts began flying indiscriminately into the room, bouncing off of Din's armor and illuminating the walls. He grunted, crouching against the onslaught for a moment, before vaulting over the railing and dropping hard onto the floor in front of us — right in time for the primary door to slide open and even more guards to begin spilling in. Din placed himself in front of me, fielding the brunt of the blasts as he unloaded the two guns in his hands, only breaking to throw flames into the crowd.
My father tightened his grip on me, his human shield, and seemed to be frozen in place.
"Don't hit me, you morons!" He shouted past my ear.
Seizing the moment of chaos, I threw my elbow back into his stomach and tried to pry my hand underneath the one currently threatening my neck. He exclaimed in pain, but his grip remained firm. He roared with anger and pulled the blade in, fully intending to slit my throat. I wrestled with his arm, trying with all my might to push it away. Din dodged a blast and it flew into my father's leg. This time, he fell to the ground screaming in pain. I stumbled away from him, dropping to the floor to avoid being hit. Din crouched over me, grasping my forearm.
"Get up the stairs," he ordered. "There's an exit up there, the way should be clear."
"What about you?"
"I'll be fine, I'll be right behind you, just go!"
He handed me one of his blasters and stood, continuing his defense. I clambered to my feet and ran as fast as I could, dodging bolts of light and firing once or twice into the fray, but my arm was shaking from being wrenched by the guard. Din was fighting with expertise, but I felt gripped by fear as I slipped through the door — what if he didn't make it out?
I obeyed his order and ran as fast as I could down the narrow corridor, following the emerging light from an exit.
I was just about to round the corner out into the fresh air when I felt the force of a body come down on me, toppling me to the ground. I rolled over onto my back to see the face of my brother — so similar to mine, and at the same time, so unrecognizable — twisted in rage. I saw in his cold, blue eyes a piercing hatred — as though by getting out myself, I had condemned him even further to live out this hateful fate as my father's enabler and enforcer.
"Thoss, let me go," I hissed, trying to pull his hands off of my shoulders.
"You knew what would happen if you left," he said through gritted teeth, his voice so much deeper than the last time I'd heard him speak. "You have to answer for what you did!"
We wrestled, fighting for control — he tried to yank me up, I tried to kick him off — until with a loud grunt, I swung my free fist at his face, smashing my knuckles into his jaw. He recoiled in shock for a moment, feeling the pain. Then he turned his face back to me and it was darker than I'd ever seen it. With a roar, he clamped his hands around my neck and pressed. I scratched at his hands frantically — I couldn't get even the smallest whisper of air. I was completely suffocating, unable to scream.
Suddenly, he was wrenched back and I was freed. I coughed and gasped, sitting up to see Din standing menacingly over Thoss, blaster drawn and pointed directly at his stomach.
"She doesn't want me to kill you," he growled. "But that doesn't mean I won't leave you permanently damaged."
"Din," I pled through ragged gasps.
"Leave now and I'll let you," He said in a low, perilous voice.
Thoss wiped his nose, spat at the ground near Din's boots, and frantically crawled to his feet before sprinting in the opposite direction and disappearing back into the building.
Din wheeled around and reached down, lifting me to my feet, his hands around my waist protectively.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice stripped of the danger it had just held.
I nodded, still trying to catch my breath. He pulled his gloves off and touched the tips of his fingers against my cheekbone, gently tracing the outline of my black eye.
"They're out there!" Thoss' voice echoed from the compound.
"Come on," instructed Din. He took my hand and we started running. Angry voices crashed together behind us, and more of my father's men began spilling out of the compound. Din grabbed me around the waist and held me close to him, his jetpack sending us into the air. I gripped my arms around his neck and clung to him as we soared away from the complex. Below us, I saw speeder bikes keeping pace with us. Suddenly, a bolt of light flew past us — they had begun firing. Din zig zagged through the sky, dodging blasts. One made contact with one of his legs, and he grunted in pain as it forcefully compressed his armor, but we swooped ahead.
Finally, he brought us down and we landed heavily on the grass. My knees buckled, painfully, but Din's hand locked on mine and he pulled me forward toward the Arrowhead, parked on a wide grassy hill. My heart leapt when I saw it — Home, I thought desperately.
"Go, go, go!" I shouted for him to run ahead. He obliged and made it up to the cockpit quickly. Before the rear door was even closed, we were swooping up into the air at top speed. I gripped the handle in the hallway and tried to pull myself from the cargo hold to the cockpit, fighting against gravity. "Are you alright?" Mando called from the front. "I'm okay!" The door secured and the air stopped whooshing. "Just get us off planet!" The Arrowhead sliced through the sky, ripping through the clouds as the atmosphere became dimmer and deeper, until finally we were among the stars. Mando plunged us into a hyperspace lane, then hurriedly spun out of his chair and ran back to where I had collapsed onto the floor, in a reckoning with the quickly-changing gravity.
"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice frantic with worry, gripping my hands and pulling me up to stand. His rough fingers moved up to my chin, and he cupped my face in his hands, his thumbs absent-mindedly stroking my cheeks. "What hurts?"
I stumbled back against the wall for support as my hands found his forearms.
"I'm alright, I think I'm alright—"
"Your eye—"
"It's okay, I promise— it doesn't matter."
None of it mattered. My pain was insignificant to everything else whirling around in my heart, seeing him again.
"I'm sorry," He said in a wretched voice. "I'm so sorry, I should never have left you with her."
"I'm sorry for getting you into this mess in the first place!"
I gazed into his T-visor, confident for once that we were making fierce eye contact, and my face broke out in a wild grin. Together again. Just like that, every feeling I had collected over the past few months came crashing to the surface. With a giddy laugh of relief, I threw my arms around his neck. His arms snaked around my waist and he gripped me tightly. One hand swept up my back and neck, and his fingers clutched my hair. We held each other intently — I willed my hands to be able to dissolve Beskar so that I could reach his bodily warmth. I realized that I was crying.
"How did you find me?" I murmured against his shoulder. He pulled out of the embrace to look down at me once again, and his hand moved up to my collarbone. With his middle two fingers, he traced the chain of my necklace slowly down and pulled it gently out from under my shirt.
"You kept it on."
I looked up at him and nodded as a tear slid over my cheek.
He lifted his hand to caress my face once more, wiping the tear away with his thumb with an urgent tenderness that threw me off balance. Our breath was ragged now as he gently tilted his head down to rest his helmet against my forehead. I'm sure my eyes crossed as they flicked back and forth, searching in his T-visor for his, but as always, I couldn't see them.
If he wasn't clad in insurmountable armor we would be kissing, I was sure of it.
We stood like that for a moment, laying our hands on each other and trying to catch our breath. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. Desperate to do something, I grabbed his hand that was stroking my cheek. Firmly, and a little nervously, I pressed my lips against his knuckles — the one part of him unburdened by armor — in an earnest kiss. I cradled his hand and held it against my chest, looking cautiously back up at him. I lay my head back against the wall, feeling vulnerable and exposed, but I told him with my eyes that I couldn't not have done it.
For a moment, he was still. Then, with a sharp, slightly shaky intake of breath, he snaked his other hand under my jacket and grasped my waist, sensually pulling me to him. I felt the fabric of my shirt slip a little under his hand, and an involuntary gasp escaped my lips. I looked back up at him, eager to find out what in the Force's name would happen next. The possibilities hung in the air with an electric tension, interrupted when he finally spoke.
"Strap in," he said in a gravely voice, and abruptly strode over to the drivers seat.
Um… I beg your pardon? I stood against the wall, hands still hanging in the air where he had been only moments before, and tried to catch up. After a beat, he looked back from the wheel.
"Strap in, Kyra."
Clear instructions if I've ever heard them. Wordlessly I obliged, planting myself in the copilot's seat and buckling my seatbelt. When I was secured, Mando put in some coordinates and we swiftly changed directions.
We didn't speak. A planet on our left side emerged as our destination and he brought The Arrowhead down into its orbit, passing through its atmosphere, and before I knew it, we were soaring over what looked like a beach. The bright white light from the full moon shimmered on the waves as they lapped against the shore. Seamlessly, he landed the craft on a bed of soft pink sand, and the glittering stars and sparkling ocean stretched out in front of us through the viewport.
I cautiously unbuckled my seatbelt. I was almost afraid to look at him. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him unstrap and come to stand over me. Finally, I peered up to meet his gaze. While looking down at me, he reached his hands down in invitation for mine. I took them and let him pull me up to standing.
"I just…" His voice was a low, tender rumble as his thumb stroked over the back of my hand. "I wanted to bring you somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe."
I looked out again at the beautiful, tropical night scene in front of the ship.
"Come with me?" He asked quietly.
I nodded. He led me by the hand into my quarters. He turned back to look at me, and his hand gently pushed some fallen hair behind my ear, letting his thumb linger, whispering across the scar above my eyebrow.
Looking down at me, he slowly unhooked his cloak and let it fall to the floor. I watched as he gently and methodically shed pieces of his armor, until he was just standing in front of me in a dark shirt, dark pants and boots — his helmet remained. I swallowed hard and slowly put a shaking hand on his chest. The warmth of his body radiated through my fingers and I closed my eyes, feeling slightly overwhelmed. I had imagined what it would be like to touch him so many times — so many nights falling asleep in the same room, my mind wandering with curiosity and yearning. And now here he was, in front of me, unobscured. He was a man. Not an enigma, not a suit of armor… just a man.
With a short exhale of relief, I placed both hands on him and swept them out, tracing the feel of his collarbone and his wide, broad shoulders, before returning to the center of his chest — his heart was hammering.
His hands slid up my hips, gathering the fabric of my shirt in bunches, and held my waist. I gently moved my hands up around his neck and pulled him into a close hug again, this time our bodily warmth fusing. His arms tightened around me and he breathed in, murmuring a soft moan — not of euphoric pleasure, but of relief — like he had been holding every muscle in his body tense for ages, and could finally rest. The sound sent a wave of feeling through my body. His hands were flush against my lower back, ever so gently reaching up underneath the hem of my shirt — his skin against mine felt electric. We loosened our grip, moving slightly apart, and leaned our foreheads together again. I closed my eyes and listened to his breath through his vocoder — hoping mine wasn't too embarrassingly ragged.
Without thinking, I reached up and placed one hand on the side of his helmet — my version of touching his cheek. His hand flew up, almost involuntarily, and wrapped around mine.
"I can't," he breathed. "I can't take off my helmet."
"I know. I'm sorry, I didn't mean — I wouldn't ask you to."
"Cyarika…" His thumb gently traced my bottom lip. I tilted my face into his hand and rested my cheek against his palm, wanting to bury my face in it.
How could we possibly make this work? If he wanted me half as badly as I wanted him — and I was beginning to believe he did — this was about to become very difficult very quickly.
"Wait here."
He left me alone in the quarters, and I took a deep breath. A million things were happening at once, and my mind was buzzing — but my path to him felt perfectly clear.
He returned, holding a thin, soft piece of fabric. I recognized it as a piece of one of the travel blankets, torn into a strip. Immediately I understood.
"Would you—"
"Of course," I cut him off.
Nothing else needed explaining. I took the strip of fabric and tied it around my head, completely covering my eyes. My heart leapt for a moment while my senses adjusted — I couldn't see a thing.
I heard rustling movement… I understood with a gasp that it was his helmet lifting. Memories of his face, still clear as day, appeared in my mind. Then, his hand met my cheek again, and I realized I could feel his warm breath on my face.
"Can I…?" I asked, tentatively. He took my hands in his and slowly placed them on his face. My breath caught in my throat — I could feel his warm skin, his cheeks, the scruff dappled across his chin, his lips, gently parted. A small sound of delight escaped me as my fingers made their way up into his hair.
He let his forehead meet mine — his actual forehead this time — and our breath mingled.
"I've imagined this," I confessed, grazing his nose with mine.
"So have I," he breathed, his voice gravelly — and without the filter of the vocoder.
His lips met mine, cautiously at first, then almost immediately overtaken by a fierce, passionate hunger.
Finally, finally, we were kissing, and I knew right away that months of aching, months of wanting this was erupting within us both.
A moan escaped my mouth as he slipped my jacket off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He grasped my waist and steered me until my back was up against the wall. As he pressed his body against mine, I could feel what he was wanting — and I wanted the same thing.
His hands found their way up underneath my shirt, pushing the fabric up just enough to expose my stomach. He stopped kissing me for a moment, as though asking silent permission. I nodded, breathing heavily, and lifted my arms over my head. He slid my top off in one smooth movement and returned his large, strong hands to my bare waist, relishing the slow caress against my skin. He kissed my neck and dragged his lips up to my ear, and I felt a surge of pleasure. I grasped at his shirt, eagerly. He pulled it off and I heard it fall to the ground. I found his bare chest with my hands and skimmed the ridges and lines of his muscular torso. We came together in an embrace, his arms locking tightly around my waist.
"Kyra," he breathed into my ear, and I smiled softly into his neck.
I noted the hair on his strong forearms sweeping against my back. I could've stayed like that forever — clinging to each other, encircling each other, finding bliss in the hot sensation of our skin meeting for the first time — but he pulled me away from the wall and led me toward where I knew the bed was.
"Is this what you want?" He whispered against my mouth.
"Yes," I replied, sliding my fingers into his hair. "I want you, Din."
His hands tightened around my waist and I heard him take another sharp intake of breath.
"Say that again," he rumbled. My lips curled in a playful, eager smile.
"I want you, Din," I repeated slowly, softly, earnestly, relishing how good it felt to finally say it.
A hungry growl rumbled in his chest and he snatched me off the ground, lifting me with ease and lowering me onto my bunk in one smooth movement. As he crawled over me, his lips tenderly kissing every inch of my stomach, I knew there was no going back — after this, nothing was ever going to be the same.
Author's Note: watch?v=0qgET1Zhpb8