Mandalorian Lost

Chapter 8

I smile as I watch the children playing in the grass, all surrounding a giggling Grogu. It's been two days since I woke up, and the ache in my stomach has become more of a dull nuisance than anything else. I swallow against the fading pain, savoring the cool liquid from my drink as it travels down my throat.

Sitting here on the porch of Cara's hut with happy children playing at my feet and various creatures humming from the forest around us, I feel at peace. And peace is something I've never known before.

"Thank you," Cara mumbles from her seat beside me, interrupting the quiet. I glance up to see Omera handing her a mug of the same drink I have. Mando stands above us, leaning against the doorframe.

"Of course," Omera says softly. Her motherly gaze falls on me and I send her a smile in return. "It's good to see you up and moving around." I nod, pulling my cup away from my lips as I look up at her.

"Thank you for taking care of me while I was out," I say. I never did get to properly thank her before now. "Mando told me it was you that stayed by my side through most of it."

Omera smiles at the ground, nodding at me once before her eyes pull over to the looming Mandalorian. "It was a joint effort," she says. I watch as she inches closer to his side. "Can I set you something in the house?" She offers, mercifully not mentioning the helmet that prevented him from drinking with us. I narrow my eyes as I watch him squirm under her gaze. They must've really grown closer during our stay.

"Uh, thank you. Maybe later." He shifts, resting his hand on the blaster at his side. I'd come to realize that it's a nervous habit for him more often than an actual threat. It's like he doesn't know what else to do with his hands. After all, weapons and fighting are at the very core of a Mandalorian's life. Peaceful scenes like this one are foreign to him.

Omera lingers, her gaze settling on the playing children as she shifts to stand in front of him. She seems to have no qualms with being close to him. "He's very happy here," she says, nodding at Grogu. I tilt my head at her, wondering what she's getting at.

"He is." His voice is as stiff as his shoulders as Omera turns to face him again. She smiles, though this time there is something more behind it than simple kindness.

She looks him up and down. "Fits right in."

My eyebrows shoot up at the flirtatious comment as she strolls away, leaving us in peace. Cara catches my gaze and we both snicker. Mando squirms even more, an exasperated sigh escaping his lips.

"So, what happens if you take that thing off?" Cara asks, catching his attention. I tense up, trying my best to look uninterested as I wait for Mando's reply. "They come after you and kill you?"

"No," Mando says with a shrug. "You just can't ever put it back on."

Cara laughs, but I can't bring myself to join in. I know it's something she will never understand. It's about honor, however misplaced his is. The Children of the Watch are a tribe that reverted to the ways of ancient Mandalore, refusing to accept any other way. Keeping that helmet on is Mando's way of honoring everything that gives his life meaning.

"That's it? So you can slip off the helmet, and settle down with that beautiful young widow, and raise your kid sitting here, sipping spotchka?" She asks, a careless smirk still staining her lips. I look up at Mando, sensing flickers of something from him through the force.

I'd only been able to sense his thoughts one other time, and that was when I convinced him to share the bed with me. He'd been so exhausted from endless nights tending to an unconscious patient, a child, and sleeping in a chair. His walls had chipped enough to let me see the exhaustion. I haven't felt anything from him since then, but I suppose that had more to do with the fact that we'd shared the bed a couple nights now and he'd had a chance to sleep.