Darasuum // Din Djarin Mandalorian ♠️

Chapter Thirty - Confessions

Word Count: 2,754 words. 

Warnings: None. 

We had kept running, not stopping until our feet were safely inside the Razor Crest. Miggs flew us from the cruiser and Cara covered our backs. I didn't remember Mando mentioning that she was on the ship.

Once we were far enough away to be sure that we weren't followed, we jumped to hyperspace. Din had led me to my room, sitting my down on my bed gently and leaving to get something. When he returned, he took his spot by my side, applying bacta spray to the wound on my side. It was closed up – a remnant of Moff Gideon's handywork – but I could see the crusting infection on its surface.

We sat in silence, Din Djarin and I. It wasn't that there was nothing to say, rather that there was too much to say. Too many arguments to be had that would only cause problems between us. I couldn't help it, I had to say it.

"Why the fuck did you do that?" I asked, his hands faltering at the sound of my voice.

The Mandalorian sighed, still applying the spray to the wound. His hands, gloves shed, pressed into my skin gently. As though he feared that with a single touch I would break.

"Do what Solo?" he questioned.

I turned to him, catching his gaze through the visor. He knew full well what I was taking about. "You were going to take your helmet off."

"He was going to kill you."

Shaking my head, I pulled away from him and stood up with a pained groan. He stood quickly, reaching out to me but I shook his away.

"Don't use me as an excuse. You talk of your Creed and of how it is the most important thing in your life. Of how the Way of the Children of the Watch is your livelihood, of how everything you are and have is theirs. The Din Djarin that I know would never remove his helmet in front of others, not even to save the life of his co-pilot," I argued, clutching my side.

"You are more than just my co-pilot," he shot. I could hear the stern nature of his tone as Mando all but spoke through gritted teeth. As though the thought of his own feelings was something he hated. He spoke again. "You are royalty."

I scoffed at his attempt to turn his sentence around. "I am the daughter of a dead Duchess. Royalty of a planet, of a home, that is destroyed, that does not exist anymore. I am no more royalty than you are a Hutt..." I paused, taking a deep breath. "...the Children of the Watch never followed my mother anyway."

"Can you stop calling me that?" he asked, the frustration clear in his tone.

"What?" I retaliated. "A Child of the Watch. That's what you are Din."

"I... am a Mandalorian," he urged.

"And yet you and your Creed go against everything that Mandalore stood for. Mandalorian's do not hide who they are, they do not cower in the shadows and the sewers. They are loyal to their own but they do not neglect others to save themselves. Mandalorian's are fierce warriors but they are passionate people. I have not seen a single raw emotion out of you the entire time I've known you."

I let out a hiss of pain as my ribs flared, legs involuntarily giving out from underneath me. Din was there within seconds, arms wrapped around me in order to keep my from tumbling away.

"Come on," he tried. "Let's get you back on the bed."

I shook my head in defiance, but followed nonetheless, allowing the armoured man to guide me towards the side of the bed, setting me down gently.