more din because i'm in love and because Melonhead15 requested this; 2.3k+ words

(just a reminder that you can request right now :-))

/ / /

You had never known true fear like you did the moment you watched the blaster shot meet the back of Din's head. Although his beskar offered protection from hits like that, the shot that fired was too close. The moment he collapsed and didn't get back up was the moment you knew that something was very, very wrong.

All you could do was stare at the sight of the single person that meant the entire galaxy to you, helpless on the ground, unable to defend you or the kid from the blaster-fire that followed. As a trained assassin, you trusted your instincts to immediately take cover behind the curve of the wall, pressing you back against a grate and ignoring the pinch of it, pausing to let them fire until their fingers grew too tired. When there was a lull in their shots, you stepped out of cover, both of your guns in hands, a baby strapped to your back. You didn't hold back.

Din was at your feet, slowly turning himself over and then crawling into cover. He was alive, but he was hurting badly. You ducked back into cover and looked at him across the corridor, sitting up weakly against the wall. His trembling hand touched the back of his head, where his helmet met the neckline of his shirt. When he pulled his gloved fingers back, blood dripped from them.

You clenched your teeth, anger flaring inside of you, and stepped out of cover once again. You killed the rest of them in record time. As you slipped your guns back into their places on your belt, you darted across the corridor and knelt in front of Din.

"Back to the ship," he grunted. "Can't... can't look here."

You nodded, lips pressed together tightly. You moved your hands underneath his arms and then wrapped them around him. He was weak and hanging onto your shoulder as you pulled him to his feet and started out of the wreckage of the ship the two of you had just forced to land. With every body of the stormtrooper you had to step over, Din groaned in pain. You could only wonder how bad his injury was.

He was barely able to hold his own when you made it back to the Razor Crest. He collapsed on the floor as you closed the hatch.

"The kid---" he started.

"He's fine," you said quickly. You pulled the straps of the carrier off your shoulders and pulled the baby out of them. He whined when you placed him on the ground. Giving him a quick glance-over, you determined that he was unharmed and turned your attention back to Din.

He was on his back, groaning loudly, head turned to the side. You flipped him slowly onto his stomach and you could only get a glimpse of the burned skin of his neck, so torn and bright red that you didn't even know what the color was supposed to be. The beskar had bent slightly with the closeness of the shot and had punctured the skin just to the side of the burn. Blood seeped out of it in never-ending pulses.

"Din," you said, your voice breaking. He was breathing so heavily beneath you. "I-I have to remove your helmet to look at it."

"Not an option."

"Din---"

"Not an option," he said. "Just let me die. Leave me here and take the kid and go. You know how to take care of him. He'll be... he'll be fine with you. He trusts you."

Your voice was firm and strained. "No."

But his voice was just a soft whisper. "Princess, I trust you."

Tears filled your eyes and you turned him back on his back. He was looking right at you, you knew he was. "If you trust me, then trust me. I won't look. You have my word. I wouldn't... I wouldn't break your Creed like that, Din. I couldn't stand myself if I did. But I can't just leave you here to die knowing that I have full capability of helping you."

"It's an honorable death," he argued. "Dying protecting my clan."

"Honorable or not, it's a terrible thing to place on my shoulders. And the kid's. You're everything to him. Everything to me. Where would I be without you? Still trapped in that palace, being trained to kill Mandalorians like you."

"You're different now," he said. "You've been freed. You can... you can do this on your own."

"No," you whispered. "I can't."

He hissed in pain. You moved your hand quickly to lift him slightly off the ground. As you partly held him, you started to cry.

"I can't stand to see you in pain and I can't stand to see you so willing to give your life up like this. Please. I won't look." He was silent and you were afraid you were losing him. You clutched him tighter against you. "Din. Do you trust me or not?"

Barely audible, he said, "I trust you."

You wasted no time. You helped him sit up, pushing a crate in front of him so that he would have something to lean his body on. It took only a minute to rummage through the supplies and pull out everything you needed. Bandages and bacta spray and a canteen of water. You lined it all up and then hid the Child away in Din's bunk. When the door of it was sealed and you were knelt behind Din, you shut your eyes.

"My eyes are closed," you said. You moved your hands forward and hooked your fingers on the underside of his helmet. You could hear him take in a sharp breath as you moved it upward, carefully pulling it over his head. You could feel the scruffiness of his facial hair on your knuckles.

As you gently placed in on the ground, you nervously situated yourself. Your hands blindly searched for the water. He laid his head with his forehead down against the crate. You gently poured the water over his injury. He hissed and stiffened and you froze and panicked.

"No, no," he said quickly. He sounded so wonderfully different without his helmet. His hand found yours and closed around it. "I'm fine. Feels good."

"Doesn't sound like it feels good," you said.

"It didn't at first," he said, and he sighed. "Does now."

After you cleaned the wound, you moved to the bacta spray. He was still now, breathing in deeply as you covered the area of his wound in the spray. To make sure you had the right place, you felt along the line of his hair. You could feel the frizzy, messy curls that ended at the nape of his neck and couldn't help but smile. You always knew that his hair was curly.

"Almost done," you said. "I just need to bandage it up."

"You shouldn't bandage a burn," he said.

"I know that," you said, "but you have a cut from your helmet. And I'm not letting it get infected."

Locating it was a complete guessing game. You let your left hand trail over his hair until your fingers met the soft skin underneath. You gently guided them over to touch until you could feel where the cut was. You placed it gently over it.

As you pulled back your hands and leaned back, you said, "Are you okay?"

"More than okay." He reached behind him and his hand found yours again. You held it tightly, shifting forward on your knees so that you were kneeling next to him. Your free hand went back to his hair and you felt as he turned his head to face you. His cheek pressed against the top of the crate. "Thank you."

You nodded. "Let me know when you put your helmet back on so I can open my eyes again."

"Just a minute," he said.

"Okay." You gently moved your fingers through his curls.

"I'll tell you what, princess," he said, and he let out a scratchy laugh. "I won't put it back on if you keep doing that."

You laughed too, more in relief that he was being himself than what he was saying. The tears that threatened to spill out of your closed eyes were those of happiness. All you could see in your mind, projected on the darkness of your eyelids, was the image of him getting shot and falling over, right in front of you. From where he stood in front of you to protect you. From where he had looked behind to make sure you were still alive when there were more stormtroopers than expected.

The thought of losing him in that moment was so real and so painful. But you were so grateful that he was in front of you, holding your hand and laughing with you. You leaned down and pressed your lips against the corner of his mouth and he quieted. For the first time since he could remember, someone's lips touched his face.

As you pulled back, he slowly sat up. His hand left yours and moved to cup your face. Knowing what he was about to do, you kept your eyes closed and let him lean in. Your eyes shut even tighter as the softness of his lips met yours for the very first time and the love poured out of you.

And after your first kiss, you sat in the same spot, letting yourself blindly trace the features of your beloved Mandalorian.

one decade later

"You've told them that story a thousand times," you said, rolling your eyes as you lowered yourself on the foot of the bed.

The night was settling over your tiny home. As the sun set and the stars began to shine, you and your husband were busy trying to round up the kids for bedtime. Between Grogu, your four year old son, and your three year old daughter, this time of the day was somehow the most hectic.

"That means it's a good story," Din said. "If it wasn't, they wouldn't want to hear it every single night."

Din sat in the middle of the bed, squeezed between Grogu and Alder. His son looked like a spitting image of him. They had the same beautiful brown eyes and every movement Din made, Alder made. Grogu seemed to follow the movements of his father and brother, too. The three had been inseparable, much to your little girl's dismay.

Willow, the youngest of the three, was eager to catch up with her brothers and her father. She wanted to do everything they did. She looked up to them so much, clinging to every story Din told and everything he taught her with a look of determination. She was so small and you were terrified of her growing up too quickly, but she was ready to.

Willow leaned against his chest, settled between his legs. He wrapped his arms around all three of his children as he started to tell the story they had all heard a thousand times: the story of the princess that fell in love with the Mandalorian without seeing his face.

It was true, your children clung to that story. It was the fairytale they needed to restore hope into their dreams. Though peace was never restored fully into the galaxy, it was found in their home. In their family.

As the story ended, you and Din put the kids to bed. They all shared one room; each with their own tiny bed in the corners. Grogu put himself in his bed and you tucked him in, kissing him on the top of his head and pulling the blanket snug underneath his chin.

"I love you," you whispered to him, taking in the sight of his wide, innocent brown eyes. "Sleep well."

Din carried Willow and Alder to their beds and gave them each a kiss. The two of you switched places, stopping at each bed to wish your children sweet dreams and tuck them in and give them sweet kisses on the top of their heads.

Shutting their bedroom door and wishing them goodnight one final time, Din's hands found yours. You laughed softly as he pulled you into the warm light of the living room. Standing in front of him, he moved your hands so that they rested on his chest. He wrapped his arms around you.

"You don't really hate me telling them that story every night, do you?"

"Oh, of course not," you said. Your voice was a soft whisper. "It's my favorite story."

"It's the only story worth retelling," he said with a smile. He leaned down and kissed you.

To him, it was the only story worth retelling. It was the story of how someone had come into his life and rescued him in ways he didn't know he needed to be rescued. He was a man trapped in his religion, unable to find a way to anchor himself to the galaxy, unable to survive past the grief that haunted him. You and Grogu gave him something to fight for. Grogu gave him someone to leave a legacy to. And you gave him the ability to feel human again.

You had fallen in love with him without seeing his face. You had fallen in love with him like it was easy. You told him time and time again that it was. He would never understand just how easy it was for you. You weren't falling in love blindly. You knew him as the man that was willing to lay down his life for you and the Child before he even knew the two of you. Of course you loved him. It was as easy as breathing.

And your love created a fairytale that would be your legacy, shared by your children to theirs and onward, even long after the two of you had gone.