"Are you okay?"
Wren hesitated, wanting to say no. Wanting to be prideful, to pretend she wasn't hurting. To do the thing she'd done for her entire life, it felt, before settling here. Before people knew . Knew to expect it, knew to automatically offer help. Just as importantly, she'd learned to accept it. To let go of the shame she'd been conditioned to feel. Both of her hands were pressed against the stove, shoving it aggressively, frustration making her movements jagged.
Her whole body ached. She'd not worn the weight of the armour in so long, and sometimes it was a double edged sword - the supportive nature helping her stability but causing stiffness. Preventing sprains but causing aches.
"Do you need me to do it?"
His voice was level, even through her mask speakers, through the comm link that usually gave so much away compared to his modulator.
She pressed once more, glad for the wrist braces before shaking her head and stepping away. She'd re-grease the mechanisms tomorrow, clean them off and lube them up. She needed to be able to do it by herself, but right now…needed to let herself accept help.
She stepped back, leaning back against the other counter, watching as he stepped forwards and moved it with almost ease, a short grunt through her ear piece the only indication that he'd struggled with the weight a little. He looked back at her, head tilted slightly in the questioning way you needed to when your facial features were hidden. It felt wrong to imagine how he'd looked when they were younger, but she tried, remembering only tan skin and dark curls. What colour had his eyes been? What shape was his nose? After becoming an adult, how would they have changed? Would he be more angular, or thicker set? He was waiting, she realised, and she grimaced at being caught, glad her own expression was hidden.
"I'm sore, the adrenalin's wearing off". She chuckled, but it was shaky - weak. As weak as she was feeling, now she was back to safety with him. Beeps came through the radio behind them, and she paused to count them, marking the beeps on a wall chart that to anyone else, looked like a cleaning checklist.
"Each location has its own beep pattern?" he guessed, and she nodded, the helmet feeling both wrong and so, so right on her head. The armour heavy, but comforting. Like a weighted blanket, but on too hot a day. She moved through the routine, glad for the auto-pilot her body could go onto with the familiar motions. Flipping the lights on, turning the music low. Dimming the lights so they weren't quite so blinding. Locking the doors, lowering the blinds. They needed the cantina's soft glow to show through, but no silhouettes, no sign of how many, of who was inside.
He watched her silently before stepping forward and lowering himself into one of the chairs in the centre of the Cantina. Good views of both doors, she realised. A practiced action.
"Do you need a medpac?" His words were slow, tentative. Uncertain.
She shook her head, chuckling as she slumped into the chair opposite him. "I need a massage, not a med-pac. Maybe a stiff drink"
"I can do that"
She snorted beneath the mask, hating how the modulator made the laugh sound. "Don't worry, I won't ask you to give me a massage, but the good booze is under the sink, if you want to grab it and 2 glasses.
"I ca-"
"Straws are in the draw beside it" she cut him off; not wanting to think about those large, strong hands against her scarred skin, her tense, sore muscles. "They're made to go under helmets. Molly got them when I used to go into the school for a drink after helping the town with repairs and tasks and…infestations and stuff"
He was quiet as he moved over - no uncertainty in his steps. "School?"
"Oh, the cantina was half rotten when I took it over, we had to rebuild it from the bones. Everyone used to pile into the school after dark and drink in the dining hall. Punishable by death if you didn't clean up after yourself. Lets just say they were glad when I got this place sorted out"
"Wren…" he asked, switching to Mando'a. "You mentioned your hip before, your joints…Are you okay?"
She clucked, "Mother hen". Why had he brought it up? She wanted to go back to the safety of talking about the history of the cantina; instead of fielding offers of massages and probing personal questions.
She could see the glare through the bescar if she imagined it hard enough. "I'm okay, the armour is holding me in place for now. I have padding beneath it against my joints, elastic bandages built into the undersuit. I'll need a nice bath later, but I'll settle for a drink now"
She clicked the side of the helmet, and his hand was on hers before she could remove it. Covering it completely, pressed against the side of the helmet. "Please, just a little longer"
She sighed, voice resigned, quiet. "This isn't me anymore, Din"
"I know"
She lowered her hand from beneath the wide expanse of his, and allowed him to press the button that sealed the helmet back in place. "You've always been a man of many words" she chuckled, gesturing for one of the two straws he'd brought over and placing it in the tall glass, pouring them both a healthy serving and sliding the flexible straw inside the helmet and to her lips. She'd leave it on, indulge him for now. "Just for a little while. Just whilst you tell me about what you've been doing these last few years"
"Bounty hunting"
She sighed. "Come on, Din. I know you've been bounty hunting, I've been in your ship - I've seen the carbonite freezer in there. But where have you been, what friends have you made, what adventures have you had? I've missed you, and you've seen so much of my life. Let me into yours. Stars knows there's not much of the original crowd left"
He looked up from the glass at that, quickly, shocked. She could see herself reflected in that too-shiny beskar; distorted. Looking as wrong in that reflection as she now felt in the armour itself. A fraud.
"Much?"
"Oh Din, did you not know" she gasped, hating her big mouth. She sipped the drink, hating herself for just bringing up such bad news so unthinkingly. "Tril…Tril passed a few years ago now. I hadn't heard from him in years anyway…but it was still a shock. I mean, I wouldn't have known if it wasn't for Lourthe but-"
"Lourthe is alive?"
Wren's lips parted beneath the helmet. "Yeah. She and Gaina came through here…Kriff it must have been a year ago. They tend to try and pop in once a year or so, bring through treats from their travels. I've not seen Samson in a long time, not since I took the helmet off, but I think he stays away on purpose. I know Lou told the others about me, let them make up their own minds whether they visit or not"
"I've only seen Paz, and the Armourer"
She choked. "Paz? Din, Stars, you've only seen the literal worst person we ever grew up with in all this time?"
"The armourer isn't-"
Wren cut him off, shaking her head. "She's hardly warm and fuzzy! So you've not seen Tril or Lou or Gaina or Samson or any of the others in our little group?"
"No"
She didn't understand. They came through for her, little broken Wren, no helmet, no armour…but not for the Golden Boy of the group? "Why? Did they never contact you or did you never run into them?"
He was quiet, drink sitting ignored in front of him out of habit. "I didn't really hear much about others, bar the Tribe"
Her hands found his across the table, gloves abandoned after trying to move the counter. She reached beneath his, roughly pulling the fabric from his golden skin and wrapping her hands around his. She needed to feel his skin against hers, and if he'd only seen Paz and the Armourer…lord knew he likely needed skin to skin contact too. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Lou and Gaina said they'd been looking for you, but only found tales, stories. Missing you every time. They do a lot of transporting now, medical goods. I'll give them your details, once we get you set up with new un-traceable ones that is... How long has it been since you saw your friends?"
"...a long time"
She brought her head down, ignoring the spike of pain in her back and rested the cold metal of it against his scarred, tan hands.
He was silent for a moment, face downturned, focused on the shine of the back of her helmet. "I thought they were all gone. The attacks, the Tribe having to hide…"
"Everyone is careful, but I know those three are out there. I replied to a message to Gaina just last week, asking for hazelnut biscuits when they next visit. Some frozen Filberries"
"So they know, about…"
"Me? Yes. They were shocked, but understood. They'd seen my bruises, knew I'd been going to the healer every week. Knew when my pairing petition was turned down, and why"
"And they stuck together?"
"Of course" wren laughed, shaking her head. "I think them being together as they are is the reason they're so fine with me breaking the creed. What did the creed ever do for them?"
He was quiet, waiting.
"Din?"
He looked up.
"Do you have…any idea what I'm talking about?"
He was quiet once more, and wren couldn't keep the helmet on for a moment longer, letting go of his hands to remove the metal and shake her sweaty hair out. Self conscious for a moment before deciding it didn't matter.
She blinked at him in shock. "You cannot tell me that you didn't realise how…close they are"
"They were always good friends"
She choked back laughter, shotting her drink and pouring another one. Topping his up to the brim with a meaningful look, smiling widely when he slipped the straw under his chin, up towards his lips. She'd felt so bad telling him about Tril, but this…this was amazing .
Until she realised his gaze was firmly on the drink, rather than her open, happy face. He wouldn't look at her; and slipped the helmet back on, sad that it took the physical barrier for him to lift his gaze. She re-activated the comm-link, letting the small bit of static feed through before continuing to talk.
"Is this when I find out it was Gaina you petitioned for? Is that why you left, unmarried?"
"It wasn't" He answered, tone measured, humourless.
"Oh Din, it was Lou, wasn't it. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't laugh, but you were always bloody oblivious"
He stared, unmoving. Leaning back slightly.
"Din they've been together for over fifteen years!"
His modulator crackled for a second, and then he leaned forwards. "What?"
Wren slid down in her seat, laughing. Glad the mirth covered the heartbreak at figuring out his childhood crush, the coupling petition that was of course turned down. Because only Din Djarin, oblivious idiot, wouldn't realise Lou was a lesbian. Wouldn't realise Wren had been holding a torch for him their entire lives. She was suddenly glad for the helmet - that he couldn't see her expression.
"I didn't realise-"
"Of course you didn't" wren interrupted, standing and moving towards the kitchen, stretching out as she did. Grabbing a bowl and some snacks, the armour polish and cloth. "You were always amazing at missions and terrible with the um… finer details "
"I cannot be the only person-"
She turned back to face him, wishing he could see her expression, see how much she was enjoying this. She leaned back, ankles crossed, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. "Well our combat trainer caught them about 40 times, I used to choose to sleep in the library or with you lot rather than try and ignore their…horniness. Everyone knew. Take that in, Din. I chose to come sleep with the boys and try to ignore Paz's explosive masterbating than listen to those two fuck each other nightly"
He sounded disgusted as he finally replied. "I forgot about that…He was so loud "
She chuckled at the memory as she turned, pointing to the bottle in the cupboard above her head and hopping, arm outstretched to try and reach the bottle.
"I drink to try and forget. I could never quite figure out if the show was for my sake"
She heard Din's chair move, the creak of his armour as he stood. "No, he was just as bad when you weren't there. We were glad for the helmets, so we could shut off his comm-link and not have to hear him.
She couldn't quite reach it, and cursed the day those months ago that she'd relocated the good stuff so high up. If he'd only drink a small amount, at least she could share the bottle she'd been saving.
"I can't believe you've only seen him , out of everyone. Is he still built like an industrial fridge? How that man put muscle on so much, I've got no idea. And that weapon ; I've no idea if he insisted on using the heaviest, most obnoxious weapon we had out of some sense of pride or just a need to be the biggest…or an overcompensation" she chuckled. "But if he kept going the way he was when we were young, it's a wonder he fits through doors…"
She heard Din approach but didn't turn. "He still uses the weapon, and is as…large as ever"
"Personally, I think him wearing those thick soled boots was obnoxious. He was already 6ft 3, adding those was just insult to injury if you ask me" she sighed, stepping back, jumping slightly when she realised how close he was. Her voice caught in her throat. "Can you reach it?"
"Which shelf?"
Even modulated, he sounded like sin - and she could remember how he sounded before, his honeyed voice travelling straight into her ears like a whispered secret. They didn't have the com link open- there was no point, as close to each other as they were. He crowded behind her, reaching up to wrap a large hand around the bottle, his front pressed to her rear as soon as she relaxed back, no longer resting on her toes to try and reach.
She hated the armour, in that moment. Hated that she couldn't feel the warmth of him, the shape of his muscle. They were both all hard edges, metal against metal as their bodies collided.
He said nothing, but she could hear his breathing, rough as her own. Loud against the soft music of the jukebox, drowned out by her own heart as it hammered within her chest. He dropped his arm, slowly - so slowly, the sound of the bottle against the worktop echoing around them. It felt odd, juxtaposed against the chatter from before. It made the cantina feel empty, empty and so, so private.
She leaned back, chasing those metallic planes of him. Pressing herself back until the space between them was nonexistent. Neither of them moved, just breathing- both muffled by their helmets, hers reedy and thin from the close proximity; the number it was doing on her nerves. What was he doing? Why wasn't he moving?
"You"
She blinked, confused, eyes focused on the bottle, on his large hand wrapped around it. He smelt of armour polish and… man, not of sweat, rancid and foul, but of warmth, of the fight. Of musk and metal and the soap from her own shower. Their intertwined scents was almost intoxicating, and she realised he'd either said the worlds smallest sentence or she hadn't even registered that he was speaking.
"Pardon?"
His voice was gruff, almost uncertain. "It was you. That I requested. Not Lourthe or Gaina or any other women in the group. Only you"
Wren's breath caught in her throat.
"It had…only ever been you" he quietly admitted, the words almost a whisper as his helmet pressed against the top of her head.
"And you left immediately afterwards"
It wasn't a question, but a statement. She'd put hers in for him, it had been declined, and then she'd had to watch him abandon them all, abandon her.
"I was a hurt kid"
Wren felt the tears as they raised in her throat, gripping her voice like a vice. Six words, and she could barely speak, barely get out her response. It had only ever been you .
They'd told her she'd had no requests, that she wasn't even an eligible choice. And she'd been a hurt kid too, and had believed them. Had worked herself to the bone to prove herself, and had felt like an unwanted, broken weapon once she'd found out.
But it was a lie.
Her voice cracked, fine as ancient china, splintering after a fall. The pressure of the bescar against her tired body was grounding, as were the strong arms that bracketed her. He could hear her tears, and left the bottle on the counter, arms coming to wrap around her almost protectively. The words came from her almost unbidden, quiet. "I requested you, too"
Turning, she felt pathetic for her own desperation, but felt it from him, too. Wincing at the scraping of their beskar
"Din?"
He bent at the waist, the forehead of his helmet pressing against her own - damp with sweat and feeling trapped inside the metal.
"Why didn't they tell me? Tell you?"
"I told you" she answered, breath catching as his ungloved hand found her own. He didn't lace her fingers, just brushing the warm skin of his hand against hers. She took the initiative instead, turning his hand with hers and pressing their palms together. "They wouldn't allow it. Wouldn't allow me to pair, to…have even the chance of accidentally breeding. They wouldn't…sully the gene pool in that way"
He stepped back quickly, violently, and pressed the side of his helmet to activate the comlink. She did the same, and could hear the depth of his emotions. "You're incredible, Wren. You fought rings around us all in training. Stars, watching you…how could they think that? How could they not tell you…tell me"
"I don't know. So you left…because of me?"
He stalked around the cantina, pacing. She could hear him properly, hear the pain in his voice. He was usually a man of few words, but they seemed to flow from him now, unbidden. "No. I left because of them. Because I knew I couldn't watch the woman I'd been in love with my entire adolescence be paired off with anyone else. I didn't want to run into any of our old friends and see you working alongside them. And then when I came here and you were alone, and unmasked…"
She didn't chase him, choosing instead to let him work this through. "It was too much for you"
His silence was all the answer she needed. Breath ragged, heating her from within through the com-link. She sighed, then laughed a little. "I'd tease you for it, for still feeling this way, if I didn't feel the same. Stars ever since you arrived back I've felt like a teenager again, sneaking out after dark to watch you train, hoping you'd take your shirt plate off"
"I was trying to catch up with you"
"You've surpassed me Din. Watching you today, you were incredible"
"I still don't have your strength"
She laughed again, taking the bottle back to the table and re-filling their glasses. "Din, unless you've got a lot of padding under there, I think you've got me beat for strength"
"You're in pain, but fight past it. You always did, though I didn't see it at the time…didn't understand it at the time" He stepped behind her, ignoring the glass once more and turned his attention instead to the clasps of her armour. Knowing where they were without having to look. She groaned as the backplate released - both pleasure and pain. It was keeping her supported, her posture, her joints - removing it was a relief and allowed some of the ache to settle more deeply. His bare fingertips ghosted over her undersuit, hesitating over the built in bandages that supported her joints further, at the patches she'd sewn in over the years. Padding and more padding.
"You always did have the best under suits"
"The thickest, you mean. I'm pretty sure I only stayed slim because I sweated out half my body weight"
He didn't answer, removing her shoulders, her upper arms, her forearms; meticulously stacking them on an empty chair with a reverence that made her breath catch. The suit was zipped up the back, traditionally, though hers zipped at the front, and she saw the hesitation in his hands as he realised.
She moved instead, pulling the zip down slowly. She wasn't nude, but barely, and his groan was all she could hear - piped straight into her ears. It almost made her forget her slightly mortification at her choice of underthings.
The sports bra was not built for sex appeal.
It was an old one, chosen and maintained purely to go under the armour - it was supportive, with thick straps; discoloured from years of wear and washing.
It had been pale blue, once.
He didn't seem to care though, and his touch didn't actually feel sexual. Instead, his large hands pressed into her shoulders, thumbs circling the nerves at the base of her neck.
"Tell me if it hurts"
"I will" she replied, relaxing immediately into his touch. He kneaded her flesh, hands strong and capable but oh so soft in that moment, easing the deep ache in her bones.
"To think" she sighed. "Years, separated. We could have had this the entire time"
"Back rubs?" He chuckled, the sound distorted through the comm-link.
She'd meant to just say yes, but as he hit a particularly good spot it came out as a pure moan, and his hands stilled behind her. She heard nothing but his breath catching, and then measured breaths, echoing through the helmet.
His hands lifted, and she leaned back, chasing the sensation. "I…"
She didn't turn, recognising the hesitation in his tone, in that simple word. He swallowed, and tried again. "I…I pictured us travelling together. Missions and bounties. So many times over the years, when I was alone, I wondered what it would have been like if my request had been accepted"
She stayed quiet, even as he stepped back, and she heard him sit down on one of the seats from the table behind them.
"I'm sorry, I…"
—
His hands shook as he reached up, Bokatans words going around and around in his head. That sound . The domesticity of it. In all his years imagining, he'd thought of moments like this more than x-rated ones. Of course…he'd thought of those kinds of things, but it was more the idea of having another person to talk to, to discussion missions with, ideas with, to touch, casually. And their rules, the council's decision…it had kept him from this. This potential happiness. The simple pleasure of having another person to talk to, one who knew him, understood him. So many years alone in the cockpit of his ship, talking to the stars, when he could have happily discussed his thoughts, the events of the day, with her. Not just another person, another mandatory an, but Wren.
Seeing her today, battling by his side…there was no doubt in his mind that she was Mandalorian to her core. She fought with honour, treated her weapons with utmost respect, carried herself tall. She had the strength of a Mandalorian, helmet…or none. He'd been a fool to consider her otherwise. And if Wren was still a Mandalorian, regardless of her creed…
He wanted to show himself to her, as she had to him. If there was another person in the entire galaxy to see his face…then the Kid or the woman in front of him should be the ones. And not just because of what he'd said all those years ago or the fight today; but the missed opportunity all those years ago. Her laughter, her movements around the Cantina, they brought him back to being a hormonal teenager again, pining after her. Watching her every move, heart in his throat as he put in his application for a clan joining, hopeful.
Broken as the rejection came back.
She heard the clasp from behind him and turned with a speed he didn't expect, chair falling to the floor as she raced to reach him. She repeated the request for him to stop like a mantra, low and faint - but it echoed through the empty room nonetheless, through their shared helmet links.
Her hands covered his, and she refastened the strap. An echo of his movement to hers, earlier.
"Don't, Din"
He said nothing, watching her face through his helmet.
"Don't break the creed. You can still go back with your head held high. You can answer the oath truthfully, if they ask it"
He remained silent, and she crouched between his open knees, hands sliding up to stroke along the metal. He wanted to feel them on his skin, instead. To know the calluses pads of her fingers, the soft warmth of her palm against his face, as he'd felt them against his hands.
He switched back to Mando'a. "I… you are still a Mandalorian, Wren"
"I know that, in my heart" she replied, head falling and landing against his armoured chest. "But there are so many days where I wish I'd never taken it off. I can never go back, never undo what's been done. I love my life here, and can see the rotten elements of our culture now that I'm outside it, but I'm an outcast"
"Not to me"
"That's not what you said before, but it's okay. I love my life, and I'm alive. But I can never go back, and I don't want that for you"
He could feel the lump in his throat. The stress of watching the ship slowly break, of trying to raise the Kid, of being hunted, and tracked, and knowing how much lay on his shoulders.
"I want you to see me"
Wren but her lip, and he could see the wobble there. "I do see you, Din. I see a proud warrior, a wonderful father. Someone who does his best to make his people proud. You've always been that, to me"
His hands reached back up, and she rushed up, covering the helmet clasps with her hands completely. He could beat her off, if he wanted - they both knew that, but he didn't.
"If you want to, truly, then I would be honoured to see you. But it isn't something you can take back, or undo. And if you regretted it, I…you can't put a life choice like that on my shoulders, Din"
He clasped her in his arms, tight. "I'll come back, once my mission is complete. Once I've taken the Kid back to his people"
"You're welcome here whenever. In every room, every space"
She lifted her helmet, and pressed a kiss to the forehead of his helmet.
"We lost our chance so many years ago. But if you'd like to explore it now…"
His voice was a gasp, a whisper. "Yes"